I imagined lots of crying, bashing on pillows and the inability to feel anything but overwhelming sadness. But for me, it was mainly just numbness and the dreaded period before I fall into slumber, the period where darks thoughts consumed my mind, leaving me tossing and turning for hours. I guess that's why I was shocked when my counsellor asked me if I wanted to see a doctor, that medication might be beneficial to me since my problem hasn't alleviated with all the sessions I had with her. It dawned on me at that point that I was in a serious condition. Retrospectively, I find that quite funny because I knew there was something wrong- the inability to motivate myself to study, random burst of crying and feeling deafening numbness, but I didn't manage to connect the dots even though it was laying obviously in front of me.
Terrified, I asked her if she could give me time to think about it. Of course she said yes and she told me I could meet up with the doctor to discuss the options that I have to deal with my situation. I think that session took a lot from me, I felt drained and exhausted after that session. Apparently connecting all the dots and swallowing reality took a lot from me. The doctor printed off information regarding anti-depressants and cognitive behavioural therapy. She looked me with a professionalism that I was surprisingly thankful for, and told me to consider the options that I have. I walked out, palms sweaty and my gaze shifty as I wondered if the people sitting in the waiting room knew what was going on with me, if somehow I missed the part where the doctor branded 'depression' on my forehead.
This is my third chance of pursuing a tertiary education, I could not afford to screw it up again. I wasn't studying at all, only frantically cursing myself and scanning through the lecture notes the day before exams. I know of this isn't an unusual habit for university students but it caused me a lot of stress, often times ending in near tears and making it harder to escape those dark thoughts. I needed immediate help so I chose medication instead of CBT because I didn't feel like I had the time for months of the CBT sessions to start exerting its effects. I felt a little bit off the kilter first two weeks taking that medication. Falling asleep had gotten harder but I felt a bit better, could be the placebo effect though. It wasn't like suddenly one day, everything just got better. For me it was gradual, I didn't even notice it until I met again with my counsellor. I filled in the form like usual and when the scores were added up, that's where I realised I was getting a bit better. I was still numb most of the time but it felt like I was more receptive to happy moments and the dark thoughts didn't invade my mind as often as it would.
I told my brother and my closest friend about it. I didn't want to but at the moment where I told them, it felt like it was the right thing to do. But later on, when I told my other friend about my depression, I felt guilty. I was getting better at that point and exams had just finished so a major stressor had just been lifted. If I was getting better, was I still allowed to tell other people that I have depression? I told her cause I wanted to explain to her why I stopped my contact with her and as she empathised with me, I felt a weird sense of guilt. I was still taking medication but I felt like things were better. I had no major breakdowns before the finals which was really surprising as last minute studying still continued. My thoughts don't really veer off to dark ones before sleeping like it usually does. However, I still feel numb most of the time but that was survivable. I wasn't living but surviving didn't seem as hard as it used to. Maybe it's because the relief that finals are over that I am able to view of situation in an optimistic way for once. I guess time will tell if I am really cured if depression can ever be cured that is.
Sunday, June 12, 2016
Tuesday, January 26, 2016
Decision
Decisions, small or big, they frustrate me. Wondering if I made the wrong one, the right never seemed obvious.
Tuesday, January 5, 2016
Swan song
Every day you wish me a good day,
A good day filled with happiness and God's blessing.
You said you love me as we end our conversation,
Our conversation that was filled with concern and exudes love.
But your love comes with a price,
A price that I fear I cannot pay without losing myself.
The fear of rejection and abandonment consumes my thoughts,
My thoughts fervent and my sanity suffers.
How long will I have to keep up my performance,
My performance as a functional human being you call son.
How much am I willing to lose to keep your love,
Your love that is a double edged sword.
A new sky above did not dry my tears,
My tears no longer visible under the moonlight's shine.
Try as I might to find a solution,
A solution remains absent as the foliage of misery piles up.
Not a day goes by do I not question if I am fighting a lost cause,
A lost cause with no victor and a tragic end.
The weariness inside me years for a swan song,
A swan song that might never be played until my black parade.
A good day filled with happiness and God's blessing.
You said you love me as we end our conversation,
Our conversation that was filled with concern and exudes love.
But your love comes with a price,
A price that I fear I cannot pay without losing myself.
The fear of rejection and abandonment consumes my thoughts,
My thoughts fervent and my sanity suffers.
How long will I have to keep up my performance,
My performance as a functional human being you call son.
How much am I willing to lose to keep your love,
Your love that is a double edged sword.
A new sky above did not dry my tears,
My tears no longer visible under the moonlight's shine.
Try as I might to find a solution,
A solution remains absent as the foliage of misery piles up.
Not a day goes by do I not question if I am fighting a lost cause,
A lost cause with no victor and a tragic end.
The weariness inside me years for a swan song,
A swan song that might never be played until my black parade.
Wednesday, December 16, 2015
struggle to juggle
I feel overwhelmed, like I'm a juggler in a never-ending show. I know balancing aspects of life is not unique to me but what am I doing wrong? It can't be this tiring right?
I'm trying to sort out my mental wellbeing, trying to figure out who I am and what I am going to do in the future. It just feels too much sometimes that I don't even bother trying. I can't just separate them, they come in a package deal. I feel like crap and I want to be alone but at the same time, I want to go out of my comfort zone and not feel lonely. There's this battle in my heart and no matter what I always end up losing. I go out even though I feel like being in my room but I don't socialise enough to gain new friends that I can talk to that isn't limited to time before lecture starts. In the end, I'm still alone but somehow more tired, more alone. I'm trying but it feels like it isn't working.
My future, a big question mark, another thorn among the thorn bush encircling my mind. I have no clue what's going to happen. The infinite possibilities used to excite me but now it just slowly chokes me until I get my numbing agent. Worry is useless since it can't solve anything, sounds reasonable but I can't do it. Just adding another reason in a long list of why I'm angry at myself. What am I going to do? At this point, I don't know, internships are already open to apply but I don't know if it has closed yet and my resumé is just a blank page. I came here to figure out my life but it feels like the only thing I've done is remembering how lost I still am.
I'm trying to sort out my mental wellbeing, trying to figure out who I am and what I am going to do in the future. It just feels too much sometimes that I don't even bother trying. I can't just separate them, they come in a package deal. I feel like crap and I want to be alone but at the same time, I want to go out of my comfort zone and not feel lonely. There's this battle in my heart and no matter what I always end up losing. I go out even though I feel like being in my room but I don't socialise enough to gain new friends that I can talk to that isn't limited to time before lecture starts. In the end, I'm still alone but somehow more tired, more alone. I'm trying but it feels like it isn't working.
My future, a big question mark, another thorn among the thorn bush encircling my mind. I have no clue what's going to happen. The infinite possibilities used to excite me but now it just slowly chokes me until I get my numbing agent. Worry is useless since it can't solve anything, sounds reasonable but I can't do it. Just adding another reason in a long list of why I'm angry at myself. What am I going to do? At this point, I don't know, internships are already open to apply but I don't know if it has closed yet and my resumé is just a blank page. I came here to figure out my life but it feels like the only thing I've done is remembering how lost I still am.
Tuesday, December 15, 2015
New place, same old crap
I knew it wasn't going to be that easy, that I would be able to run away from everything, be halfway around the world and hopefully from my problems.
As the novelty of being in a new place fades away, I'm back at the place where I fled, forever a captive. I am not fleeing anymore, just staying stationary, letting it consume me once again because I realised I can never escape, at least not with physical distance. How do you escape from your shadow while fleeing away from darkness.
Sometimes I feel so alone, so disconnected and it wasn't as if I didn't try, try to initiate conversation, try to be more outgoing but trying to swim when you're so tired just being afloat is difficult. In the end, I'm back at the starting line, more alone than I thought possible and too tired to go on.
I'm seeking help again. Week 5, new record I guess. Took me 6 weeks back in real life to crack again, such a fragile little creature. I wore my bleeding heart on my sleeves for them, hoping for a salve, a cure to make it stop hurting, stop torturing my mind as I lay wide awake at night, to make it better before I become desperate enough to stop its beating altogether. They heard my woes, saw my sleeves stained red, gave me comfort but in the end I left again with a trail of blood.
With kindness in her eyes and empathy oozing from her voice, one of them said, ' I think you're the only one that can truly help yourself, no one can provide you an answer to solve all your problems'. With that I left, with my t-shirt stained red and with my mask put on. I always return to numbing agent, better to feel numb than pain. Oh, I know it doesn't help solve the problem, just leaving the wound to fester but I that was all I could do.It's easier to say I'm fine when I'm numb cause that's the truth, I am as fine as I could be. With the numbing agent, I could get up, eat, shower, dress... appear like a functioning person so no one would ask me questions I don't want to answer.
The other ask me to fill in a form, to rate myself on a couple of aspects, to manifest a numerical score of my pains and problems. I understand the rational behind the test, to give a simplistic but essential introductory view into my mental state. But do they know when I rate that I am able to get up to lectures every day, I do this because if I want to appear like a normal being; When I say I am able to hand in my assignments on time, do they know what it is at the cost of deteriorating my already fragile mental state? But I fill it in anyway because I hope she can help me, help me to become a person that doesn't fluctuate between detesting his life and numbness.
Who can I talk to? The friends that know are going through their own turmoil. I feel like we're all in an alcoholic anonymous meeting, every time we talk, it is about our woes, the crap we have to deal with to live a normal life again, the addiction to victimising ourselves. Once the meeting is over, we go back to our own separate lives, no longer in contact until the next meeting. I see pictures of them having fun, eating good food with other friend, but me, as their 'best friend' only get the sad part of their lives, a meeting/rant once a fortnight then its goodbye until the next one. I'm angry at them but more so myself because even though I want them to be happy, I want them to share the happiness with me, not just all the problems but shouldn't I be content that they are happy regardless whether it is with me or other people?
I don't know what to say in those meetings anymore. How many times I can say'I'm sorry for what you're going through' and how many times can I say I'm freaking depressed in another way. I feel helpless when they tell me what they are going through because I can't say anything comforting because I don't believe it myself and they know it as well. All I hope is that they find comfort in knowing my ears is always there for them but lately, I don't feel like that's the case anymore. I don't think it's a case of me wanting to feel like I'm wanted, it just feels like I'm holding a rope that supports you and vice versa but your grip is loosening up and I'm holding on yours even though it looks like you don't need me to hold onto your top anymore. So why bother?
Woe is me, I'm the victim, poor little me. For once, hate is not too strong a word to describe my feelings toward something which in this case is myself.
As the novelty of being in a new place fades away, I'm back at the place where I fled, forever a captive. I am not fleeing anymore, just staying stationary, letting it consume me once again because I realised I can never escape, at least not with physical distance. How do you escape from your shadow while fleeing away from darkness.
Sometimes I feel so alone, so disconnected and it wasn't as if I didn't try, try to initiate conversation, try to be more outgoing but trying to swim when you're so tired just being afloat is difficult. In the end, I'm back at the starting line, more alone than I thought possible and too tired to go on.
I'm seeking help again. Week 5, new record I guess. Took me 6 weeks back in real life to crack again, such a fragile little creature. I wore my bleeding heart on my sleeves for them, hoping for a salve, a cure to make it stop hurting, stop torturing my mind as I lay wide awake at night, to make it better before I become desperate enough to stop its beating altogether. They heard my woes, saw my sleeves stained red, gave me comfort but in the end I left again with a trail of blood.
With kindness in her eyes and empathy oozing from her voice, one of them said, ' I think you're the only one that can truly help yourself, no one can provide you an answer to solve all your problems'. With that I left, with my t-shirt stained red and with my mask put on. I always return to numbing agent, better to feel numb than pain. Oh, I know it doesn't help solve the problem, just leaving the wound to fester but I that was all I could do.It's easier to say I'm fine when I'm numb cause that's the truth, I am as fine as I could be. With the numbing agent, I could get up, eat, shower, dress... appear like a functioning person so no one would ask me questions I don't want to answer.
The other ask me to fill in a form, to rate myself on a couple of aspects, to manifest a numerical score of my pains and problems. I understand the rational behind the test, to give a simplistic but essential introductory view into my mental state. But do they know when I rate that I am able to get up to lectures every day, I do this because if I want to appear like a normal being; When I say I am able to hand in my assignments on time, do they know what it is at the cost of deteriorating my already fragile mental state? But I fill it in anyway because I hope she can help me, help me to become a person that doesn't fluctuate between detesting his life and numbness.
Who can I talk to? The friends that know are going through their own turmoil. I feel like we're all in an alcoholic anonymous meeting, every time we talk, it is about our woes, the crap we have to deal with to live a normal life again, the addiction to victimising ourselves. Once the meeting is over, we go back to our own separate lives, no longer in contact until the next meeting. I see pictures of them having fun, eating good food with other friend, but me, as their 'best friend' only get the sad part of their lives, a meeting/rant once a fortnight then its goodbye until the next one. I'm angry at them but more so myself because even though I want them to be happy, I want them to share the happiness with me, not just all the problems but shouldn't I be content that they are happy regardless whether it is with me or other people?
I don't know what to say in those meetings anymore. How many times I can say'I'm sorry for what you're going through' and how many times can I say I'm freaking depressed in another way. I feel helpless when they tell me what they are going through because I can't say anything comforting because I don't believe it myself and they know it as well. All I hope is that they find comfort in knowing my ears is always there for them but lately, I don't feel like that's the case anymore. I don't think it's a case of me wanting to feel like I'm wanted, it just feels like I'm holding a rope that supports you and vice versa but your grip is loosening up and I'm holding on yours even though it looks like you don't need me to hold onto your top anymore. So why bother?
Woe is me, I'm the victim, poor little me. For once, hate is not too strong a word to describe my feelings toward something which in this case is myself.
Saturday, April 18, 2015
The naggy one
I really don't understand why I keep trying to correct my dad's behavior. It's not like he actually listens and changes. In the end, I am the one who gets frustrated and become the bad guy, the "naggy" one.
Example scenario from tonight:
After dinner, I saw dad grabbing two apples to peel.
Me: I don't want an apple.
Dad: It's for mom and I.
Me: Mom doesn't like eating apples after dinner. You did this multiple times before and she told you that she doesn't like it.
Dad: If I peeled it then she'll has to eat it. The apples are crunchy and sweet.
Me: It's not about how good the apple taste, she's full after dinner and she doesn't want it.
Dad ignores me and keep on peeling the apple. He gave it to mom after she came downstairs.
Mom: I don't want it. I am full and I just brushed my teeth.
Dad: Eat it, it's crunchy and sweet.
Me: I told dad that you didn't want it.
Mom: Ricky, help me eat half of it.
Me: No.
Then I started to gloat/nag my dad to which he ignores and call me a nag. I started to get frustrated because I told him it would happen but he seldom listens. I vowed to myself more than once that I will not do it again but I still do it every time. The scenario frequently ends with me frustrated and snappy with him ignoring all of what I just said.
Please, I beg of myself, don't do this to yourself anymore. Let him do what he wants.
Example scenario from tonight:
After dinner, I saw dad grabbing two apples to peel.
Me: I don't want an apple.
Dad: It's for mom and I.
Me: Mom doesn't like eating apples after dinner. You did this multiple times before and she told you that she doesn't like it.
Dad: If I peeled it then she'll has to eat it. The apples are crunchy and sweet.
Me: It's not about how good the apple taste, she's full after dinner and she doesn't want it.
Dad ignores me and keep on peeling the apple. He gave it to mom after she came downstairs.
Mom: I don't want it. I am full and I just brushed my teeth.
Dad: Eat it, it's crunchy and sweet.
Me: I told dad that you didn't want it.
Mom: Ricky, help me eat half of it.
Me: No.
Then I started to gloat/nag my dad to which he ignores and call me a nag. I started to get frustrated because I told him it would happen but he seldom listens. I vowed to myself more than once that I will not do it again but I still do it every time. The scenario frequently ends with me frustrated and snappy with him ignoring all of what I just said.
Please, I beg of myself, don't do this to yourself anymore. Let him do what he wants.
Sunday, April 5, 2015
I can't start writing that freaking personal statement. Everytime I want to start it, there's a barrier and my motivations just withers like leaves in autumn. How can I convince someone else to give me a chance when I can't even convince myself to do so.
I can't do it and I'm willing to do pretty much anything else as long as they are not beneficial to avoid this.
What is my life right now? A whinny and ungrateful young adult who has pulled out of two universities. That's the freaking page that I have been stuck on for 3 months and there seems to be no way out.
I keep doubting myself and wishing that this was all a dream, and all will be well once I wake up from my deep slumber. Great, add delusional to the growing list of what's wrong with me.
Positive thoughts, positive thoughts, positive thoughts... I am awesome. I can slay that personal statement. I am a self-aware young man. I have hope. I still have a chance.
I can't do it and I'm willing to do pretty much anything else as long as they are not beneficial to avoid this.
What is my life right now? A whinny and ungrateful young adult who has pulled out of two universities. That's the freaking page that I have been stuck on for 3 months and there seems to be no way out.
I keep doubting myself and wishing that this was all a dream, and all will be well once I wake up from my deep slumber. Great, add delusional to the growing list of what's wrong with me.
Positive thoughts, positive thoughts, positive thoughts... I am awesome. I can slay that personal statement. I am a self-aware young man. I have hope. I still have a chance.
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