Those Episodes

The Rough Times Are Here

I will make this short, mostly because I merely want to let out everything that comes to mind, and not necessarily be positive about it.

I am having breakdowns and my mind is not working properly, i.e., thinking properly. That I find alarming and with the depression and all, everything goes into a halt. Everything crashes. Everything pulls itself under that I don’t even know how and why things have to be thus.

The depression brought about my bipolar 2 diagnosis is mainly to blame. I have been depressed for two months now, and tried overdosing just so I could not feel the pain anymore. I tell you, whilst physical pain can be searing, emotional pain can be debilitating as it encompasses even the innermost recesses of your soul and spirit. When one is depressed, the entirety of one’s being becomes a conundrum of lows and more lows, and jumpstarts a cycle that no one knows when it would stop. Depression robs a person of his or her own liberty, as they become somehow reliant on people around them as support. But when support does not come…how? One then spirals down to the bottom of the pit—a sort of chasm—until letting go would be the only option. Ever wondered why suicide is constantly correlated to depression? Not because the latter is a state of mind that brings forth the act of suicide itself but that suicide can be merely an outcome of those feelings that one could not take things in that much anymore.

Now if I should translate such into my current situation, I am on a flight of stairs:–nay walking down but zooming to the bottom of it. It is like trying to speed up the transition between life and death but could not because I have this fear of suffering before dying. I am not afraid of death per se; I am afraid of the suffering that suicide causes before death as I have had experiences of such nature before. But with depression taking its toll, what am I going to do? Sit back and relax and pretend that I am alright?

All of the abovementioned are basically ironic in a way because I just saw my therapist’s intern yesterday and we had a long talk about how to address my situation. Of course, I remember everything that has been said; but the emptiness within is so all-encompassing that even as when I walked out of the therapist’s office, I felt my heart breaking because of all my current situation: domestic, faith, career. Wherever I turn to, I don’t see a glimmer of hope somewhere where I could even look forward to and have a goal. The depression takes away the goals and aspirations, and all I see is a decrepit self in the mirror wont to embark nothing more but into a surreal walk of death.

In all these I deem myself tired of all the relationships that I have, that I want to establish, the existence of love, and what I am here for. I don’t see or find any purpose anymore as to why I even try to continue living. My friends told me to “let go of the triggers.” I won’t argue with them for it is not of my fashion to argue with friends. However, the triggers are up there in my head as well: not only physical, tangible ones in my environs but also the voices in my head that constantly speak to me every day and every hour, talking about who I am. Unimaginable, isn’t it? Remarkable even. Thus, happiness is something far-fetched for me (as of the moment), considering that my condition has not become stable in two months, going on three. I want to move past this, yes; but I cannot just do so without hospitalization or other forms of therapy (this, if I don’t choose death).

I am tired. I really am; and to comment as to the end of it all, it would either be of my suffering or my life. With such, I might want to choose both.

Choleric-melancholic, blogger, teacher, mental health advocate, book lover.

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