It has been two months but with all honesty, it's been going on for awhile and forever since I was a kid. This depression has been taking a toll in my life. I remember writing about it last summer of 2014 and more years ago in every season that it visited me. It's a disease that I'm trying to deny yet, still haunting me each time, either triggered with some circumstances or suddenly arrives in my temple just like death. Only that I am suffering while I am still alive and it does not end anything thoroughly nor have someone remember me in my death bed crying or regretting on why they have not showed compassion in me while I am still able to enjoy their company.
The days have been so heavy. It's like waking up is a nightmare and sleeping is a safe haven. Most of the time, I am walking like a zombie. Trying to smile to all the people I meet around me or trying to have an interesting conversation with someone smart or considerate enough to catch up with my oozing and weird ideas. It came to the point that I don't understand myself anymore. What I want and what I really am. Remorse, melancholy or nothing at all, is what I am feeling. I tried crying it all out for a week, a month or so. It doesn't go away. The evil inside me is whispering, full of negative thoughts every time. It is scary to fight my own demons. Telling me to jump off the rooftop building, slash my wrist or take a whole bottle of medicine. Just to give finality to all the unfamiliar feelings that have been bothering me for eternity.
I am trying to get better. At least I wanted to. Each time I feel the joy of people being thoughtful or giving me loving attention either physically or emotionally, it never made me fully happy. There's always something being stuck in my chest. It's like I'm having a heart attack. A panic of anxiety. It is because the feeling of affection is very overwhelming from others and never knowing if it will last long. It's hard to hold on to something that I wanted to feel most of the time, only to realize that it never made up to myself for a longer-term. It unfailingly leave me with some longing and exhausted emotions.
For now, my relapse is all coming back and keeping me in touch with my inner self. This made me think that I have to befriend all these awful creatures inside me. I have to learn to speak within and calm them. Hopefully, we can respect both our boundaries. Call me crazy and yet, I am or I may not. I don't have more ways now to pacify such dangerously peculiar thoughts than making it as my bestfriend. Perhaps, it will make me go further in living my bittersweet life and hoping that it will not betray me in the end.
-Maricar T. Alquizola
11/13/2015 at 3:18pm | MTA ©
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