Particularly sad today that I was not able, again, to talk.

Yes, talk.

I come to work without talking with anyone except students… and they seem disinteresting. What I want is to talk with someone but it seems everyone is to engrossed with what they do, apparently forgetting that there’s someone out there longing for just a talk.

It can be a lonely life indeed, especially for someone whose life has been peppered with lots of travails to speak of.

I can’t bear the silence anymore. It is as if I have to bear—endure—the mishap of being someone whose presence is not at all overbearing, whose demeanour appears to be weak and demure. I actually long for acceptance, but all I get is a cold shoulder. I engage in conversations every now and then, but for some reason, taking part in such would leave me empty and dry. And my mind begins talking to itself as though with an imaginary friend.

It hurts that I am getting fed up by all these.

Sometimes, I just wish I would die.

I ate yogurt today and I felt good about it. It’s vanilla-flavoured (which diminishes the tangy taste of Greek yogurt); and the first time I tasted it when I bought a cup at one Family Mart store, I got hooked. Of course I did not actually search far and wide for the yogurt in some respects, but I was wondering as to where I could get one ASAP.  Now to my surprise, I found one at a grocery near our place and yes, I was stunned—even elated—that I eventually purchased what I had been looking for the past two weeks already. Yes, two weeks of wondering where I could find vanilla-flavoured yogurt!

Well, obsessive thoughts at play?

I remember one friend who posted on Facebook that when he gets to be obsessed with one thing, it stays with him for days until he gets fully satiated by it. Perhaps I could say I have similar attitudes with him at this point, especially about anything that spells health. Right now, I am obsessed with dragon fruit; but due to how pricey it can be—in a sinister way, that is—I could not buy such a fruit without sacrificing about 200 pesos for it. I dunno… why is that when one desires to keep oneself buff and healthy means spending a lot for it?

Anyway, at least I have the yogurt and it’s fine.

Off to my writing. I haven’t written any poetry in eons, except one piece that I did in my main site, which to my dismay, does not even reflect the lustre of my previous poems. For some reason I now have difficulty stringing together figurative language and translating those into verse form—whether free verse or what-not. I find the desperation a bit triggering to my loneliness because it seems I could not write any more. I have always been proud of what I do; and when one of my interests have been withheld from me by the very brain that churns out all those words that reflect my pride, then it is as if I am horribly vanquished. I could not write anymore…

And it’s depressing.

However, I need to move past this doldrum and start writing again, trying even harder so as I could regain what I might call as my writer’s splendour. And who knows, I might even release another folio… after 7 years!!

Alright, that’s it folks for today’s rant. Tomorrow will be another day to do so; but yes, I try to rant healthily. It’s always a matter of perspective.

Right now, I am not okay… which is rather ironic because I just blogged about reaffirming myself further despite being suicidal in a blog post in another section of this site.

But now I am going down the drain.

You see, I have a lingering pain in my back, then another cropped up at the left side of my rib cage or somewhere there. Then my feet are swelling for unbeknownst reasons, my arms as well. Add to it would be the intense pain I experience whenever I walk or move. I sit down, the pain in the aforementioned rib cage would be so intense, it’d be difficult to maintain a sitting position. I lie down, it goes away. What mystery this could be, confounds me, especially as to the real culprit; the new anti-psychotic meds I have been taking? I don’t know. I hesitate into visiting another doctor specializing in some other illness as they would have me undergo tests equally expensive for me. So what’s the use? I can’t do those tests as I have no money to fund them, so I’ll just remain in this hapless state.

Now we’ll go to the depressive / suicidal aspect of my suffering.

Throughout the months of my supposed convalescing from depression and anxiety (and the intense desire to kill myself), I could not particularly point out whatever wellness I have achieved. For all the days I have been out of work, I had been attempting to make life better by artworks and writing things, as well as resting. Well, at some point, my mind did rest as my doctor prescribed that I don’t think about work-related matters for the meantime. However, the mood swings could get a little tricky: it is as if they are subsumed into a sort of thick layer in my brain within which they hibernate until they try to ease themselves out depending on particular “whims”. The only thing is, there never was a day wherein I did not experience suicidal thoughts. It seems that my everyday was peppered with it, at the most during nighttime and I would have difficulty sleeping, even with Rivotril (Clonazepam) on. All these despite my own “illusions” that I was fine, getting better, just as what I had told colleagues when I paid a short visit to school one Friday when they asked how I had been faring.

It’s all a sham.

Here I am, trying to blog my troubles away. For three days, I have been thinking of overdosing—maybe so as I could prevent myself getting back from work leave, or that because I want my “hiatus” to be permanent, like permanent where people would have a coffin viewing with me inside the coffin, surrounded by flowers courtesy of the municipal hall (that gives flowers away for free as condolences upon the demise of their citizens). But most of these is wracked with the unknown: do I really want to kill myself? And the penultimate question: Why am I so unhappy?

I don’t know. It’s so incorrigibly stationary—this feeling of emptiness where I barely survive the tempests going on in my head ALL THE TIME, EVERY SINGLE DAY.

So it’s not surprising to know that, as of this writing, all I want is to die right now.


Yes, I understand that everyone has their own versions of suffering, and mine is no difference. I bear the brunt of problems like the rest of humankind because I am still a living, breathing complex machine of sorts. However, if this logic were true, why, then, do some people die by suicide? Does their grappling with the same burden they carry everyday account for the idea that everyone has their own problems to boot? That they were not brave enough to weather the storms within? For me, saying such a thing is discriminatory in a way in as much as we don’t know how much they have been struggling; and for us to say that “everyone has their own problems (so do you) thus you must continue fighting” can be a little bit degrading to the efforts of the suicidal person. It is as if imputing upon them a sort of weakness, when, in fact, they have been trying to survive day in and out and act as though there isn’t anything wrong with them.

And that’s why, sometimes, I am tired of the cliche “you can make it.” Truth of the matter is, I’m on the brink of turning all tables upside down. Nothing matters to me anymore as I write this. I can’t find a sense of purpose nor a reason for me to actually rise up every morning and do what I ought to do in a day. I AM TIRED. I AM DONE WITH. There is nothing out there for me anymore; and with this, I am continuously being broken by my very own existence. Moreover, don’t tell me that I don’t believe in the power of prayer, or God being the healer of all maladies, or that I don’t have enough faith, or that I’d go to hell so I need to pray my mental illness away. Saying those things brings me to self-destruct even more! (I have this seething detestation over people, especially my family with an ultra-religious mindset, who drag God into the picture, when it has nothing to do with my own personal faith since it’s my mental health that’s at stake here. Heck they don’t even recognize my desire to have my own kind of religious freedom, to attend a particular church I am drawn to!)

Right now, I am just hoping for the end of two things: my life and my suffering. I have endured for so long and I am impatient (sorry for that) to see the future of how my life would lead. However, this impatience has gone towards discontent and apathy towards how everything, in the form of a vicious cycle, continues to wreak havoc upon the inner core of my world. I am on the brink—on the edge—of letting it all go. I might do so, in a snap of a finger, and it would be just a tiny little spark or movement of a clock’s second hand that I might turn this monster of a self into an entity on perpetual repose.

I am tired. TIRED. I have no dreams anymore. Nothing more. Not much amount of my words can actually concretize what I really experience right now. I.can’t.even.

Pray that I survive this day. If no update comes around, then I you all know what it is.

Thanks for reading.

My palpitations returned today as I had those last Monday. And I have this difficulty breathing, coupled with some chest pains or so. I had not been able to go to work: I was really feeling weak this morning when I woke up, but despite that I prepared myself. It turned out that the symptoms never subsided so I had to stay home and forego work.

And now I’m depressed because of that.

Sometimes I would like things to be over.


Alright. I need to take a break. As the Japanese would say… Ja na.

Will keep this post a little bit shorter than I envision it to be.

It’s official: severe depression is now kicking in.

The more I think of going back to work tomorrow spawns jitters, making me feel entirely uncomfortable to the point of driving up my anxiety. For some reason I just don’t want to go to work tomorrow. I just hate the fact that I have to, but that I have no choice. The feelings of getting burnt out has become a little bit traumatizing for me already that I want to run away from it all. I just want things to be done, to end. I want out of the system I am currently in.

I am not happy.

Why? I can’t do things that I love anymore. Getting swallowed up by everything crushes me to my core, and that’s what my work precisely is like. I don’t have much problem with people surrounding me to date, but it’s the workflow and the workload that triggers me so. I was given another subject to teach, extending my teaching hours to the fullest. Then I end up really, really tired with no one else to cling on, nothing else to relieve me. I suffer in silence;  and yes, I can’t complain! Of course people would have to tell me that no work is ever that easy to which I should wholeheartedly agree. Yet, for some reason I really am not happy with what I do. I just want to scram.

But where would I go? And that is the big question.

I’ve always told myself I would have to finish my Master’s before I proceed yet again to college teaching, and this time, in a reputable university so as not to disappoint those people who contributed much to my entry into the public school system. However, I haven’t even accomplished ALL my prerequisite subjects yet so how dare I look forward to even graduating from graduate school?

No words can express how frustrated, disappointed, and heavily depressed I am at the moment.

And it’s just crazy.

Oh well, I would need to have the mettle to file for that leave. I still want to be alive, if I should echo that Logic song in my playlist. With this convoluted working existence I currently have, my sanity has been dragged to the dregs. I’m so exhausted, exasperated, beleaguered. Wherever I face, I see nothing but myself holding onto a rope that’s about to snap and give way to a journey that knows no return. I am being hurled into oblivion, and unless I do something about this, there shall be no redemption. Am I saying that I could not find myself continuing in this continuum at all? Yes. A resounding yes, in fact. I don’t know how to resolve this anymore.

But of course, for now, I should still take on myself that ever-reliable virtue of patience to get me through each passing day. A little more perseverance, they say. Oh, indeed. Wake me up when skies have transitioned from grey to blue and rivers replenished and rejuvenated.

(You see, I am depressed right now so I daresay, I could not mention anything that could perk up anyone’s dispositions. Everything’s just terrible, so my apologies.)

I had been under the weather since yesterday after coming home from church. Add to this would be the exhaustion experienced during church and after church, and now I am depressed.

This should not be a cause for alarm that much though, as my depression is basically mild. Nothing serious as of this point and I hope it would stay that way. Nonetheless I do feel woozy (and my brain similarly so); and anytime soon I could fall into a breakdown of sorts. That’s why I am keeping my fingers crossed I won’t sink into that eventually.

Now with regard to the exam I need to do (my colleague and I have decided to share exam items amongst ourselves), I don’t feel like doing it as of the moment. All I want is to rest. All my brain wants is to rest. I find that rather annoying in a sense since I don’t have time to dilly dally as much, given that the deadline is fast approaching. In fact, that colleague in question called me up earlier today, presumably so she could converse with me regarding said exam. But since I was feeling so melancholic that I tend to avoid people when I am stricken with episodes, I declined her phone call. In fact, I did not pick up the phone at all!! It can be that bad, especially when I’m that fatigued about so many things. It’s not that I am wishing to die or something; it’s just that I feel entirely incapacitated to be doing anything at all, and what I merely want is to stay right in one corner writing or drawing stuff to keep all troubles at bay.

So here I am typing said troubles away.

I just wish I would file a leave, but just as what I have mentioned in my previous post, I am that reluctant since all I end up thinking about are my students and what they might be doing when I am out. It would cause one hell of a pandemonium! Besides, there are other things such as salary deductions (and I need money that bad) and… well… professional reputation. No one likes someone who’d absent oneself all the time!!

Having thus said, I can’t do anything right now. I hate watching TV, and Facebook has become too boring. The books I read have been eating up space, gathering dust on my table just the same without any inclination on my part to even flip through their pages; I just could not find the disposition to do so. Now what do I want to do, merely? Uh, eat. (Then I’d end up complaining about weight gain). Then blog (well, hence this post? yup).

So much for this day that I eventually had to write in my mood journal. Oh, at last, after all those months. And yes, I signed up for Manila Bulletin’s Sketch Fest to be held in August. Hah, at last I would have a diversion.

Speaking of work, I will have to engage in it by tomorrow /again/ and the mere fact of thinking about it makes me feel rather morose.

I want to have a lengthy vacation, actually. Sometimes I do think of signing up for a leave but have been always reluctant to do it since I end up thinking of who would be substituting for me in case I’m not around. It’s because of the very nature of teaching itself: one day you’re out, everyone goes ballistic. Thus, there are moments wherein I begin mulling over changing careers or moving up a notch higher, i.e., to teach once more in a university. Although the biggest contention to this is on whether I am that ready to leave, given that my current job is categorized as permanent.

Nonetheless, I would feel the brunt of the stress, my choleric self pushed against the wall, contributing much to how unstable my moods can become. I currently handle 50 students, and all those 50 students conjure up some certain negative emotions in me mostly attributed to their dearth of discipline. Not to mention academic challenges on their part… so frustrating!!!

So tomorrow I need to be there, at work, a buffer for every challenge that comes my way. In this dog-eat-dog world (and high school teaching in itself), it is mainly on how I manage to keep myself sane and come out alive still amidst the chaos.

Currently, I am doing my learning log.

And I find it really tedious! Imagine, I have to somehow fill in the shoes of a soothsayer and practice divination, but in this case, on how I should foresee how my lesson goes. It’s like trying to look into a crystal ball in order to view every potential event that might happen (and in this case, my lesson) and put them in place, details and all. Everything has to be structured, the entirety of it following a certain platform if you will. In short, the whole  learning log is supposed to log everything that must be done within a lesson as the teacher foresees it. Yes, it is a plan; but a plan that is somehow too detailed for its kind that it’s freaking me out.

Alright, I won’t go into details but here’s the thing: a teacher has to provide entries to each of the following:

The above are points I need to fill out in the actual document. It’s hard to explain but… yes, it’s a document.

Yeah. I know you’re all nodding your heads in disbelief. Indeed, I have to fill out ALL OF THOSE except on the reflection part!!!

But now here I am, blogging all about it. Anyway, I’ll leave it at this because I still have lots to do about this thing. Wish me luck.

…wait till you really search for it!

There’s this burgeoning trend about ASMR (Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response) where some enthusiasts about this post videos featuring subtle sounds such as whispers, light squishes and the like. Supposedly, ASMR is generated as a tingling response to stimuli (that includes those I specified above) eventually producing the hormone oxytocin, making the person exposed to such stimuli relaxed and placid. Some people might not find it appealing though.

Here’s a video of an example of ASMR. Watch and be intrigued 🙂