Welcome to my blog... I suppose I can tell you I got this idea from my psychiatrist he wants me to express my thoughts, feelings and emotions on paper... well instead I started this blog. I'm not here to help anyone, but If I am able to share or understand what you are feeling. I'm glad. This is my outlet to my mind. We are all entitled to our own opinions. Please remember that. Have a wonderful day.
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As I continue this blog, I hope to delve deeper into my experiences and offer a sense of solidarity and understanding to those who might be struggling. Sharing my journey is a way to extend a hand to anyone feeling isolated by their mental health challenges, and perhaps, through this, I can find further hope for myself as well.
Living with depression and anxiety is a daily battle. After my father's death and the subsequent losses, the weight of my grief seemed insurmountable. Each family member I lost took another piece of my heart, leaving me feeling fragmented and perpetually sorrowful. My depression was like a dark cloud that never fully dissipated, always lurking in the background, ready to engulf me at any moment.
Despite the constant internal turmoil, I tried to maintain a façade of normalcy. On the outside, I went to school, interacted with friends, and participated in family events. But inside, I was crumbling. The pressure to appear "okay" was overwhelming. I felt like I was living a double life, one that everyone saw and one that was hidden deep within me.
During high school, my anxiety escalated. Simple tasks became monumental challenges. I dreaded social interactions, fearing judgment and rejection. My anxiety manifested physically, often leaving me breathless, with a racing heart and trembling hands. I remember sitting in class, trying to focus, but all I could think about was how fast my heart was beating and whether anyone could tell I was on the verge of a panic attack.
I sought solace in writing and music, pouring my emotions into journals and finding comfort in lyrics that resonated with my experiences. These outlets became my lifelines, offering a way to express the pain I couldn't articulate verbally. They provided a sense of relief, even if only temporary.
As I transitioned to adulthood, managing my mental health became more complex. I started therapy, which was both a relief and a challenge. Opening up about my deepest fears and traumas was daunting, but it was also liberating. Therapy taught me coping mechanisms and helped me understand the root causes of my depression and anxiety. It was a slow process, filled with setbacks, but each step forward felt like a small victory.
However, not everyone understood my journey. Some people dismissed my struggles, insisting that I just needed to "snap out of it" or "look on the bright side." These comments, though often well-meaning, were deeply hurtful. They trivialized my experiences and made me feel even more isolated. Mental illness isn't something you can simply will away. It's an ongoing battle that requires understanding, patience, and support.
One of the most challenging aspects of my journey has been navigating relationships. Friendships and romantic relationships are complicated by mental illness. There are days when I can't muster the energy to engage, when I cancel plans last minute or withdraw from social interactions. It's difficult to explain that it's not personal, that it's the weight of my depression making it hard to function. I'm grateful for the friends who have stood by me, who understand that my silence isn't a reflection of my feelings towards them, but a symptom of my illness.
In recent years, I've made progress, but the journey is far from over. I've learned to recognize my triggers and manage my symptoms more effectively. Self-care has become a priority, and I've discovered the importance of setting boundaries and giving myself permission to rest.
To anyone reading this who is struggling with their own mental health, know that you are not alone. Your experiences are valid, and it's okay to seek help. It's okay to have bad days, and it's okay to prioritize your well-being. This journey is tough, but you are tougher. Let's continue to support each other and break the stigma surrounding mental illness.
This is what depression does to me, but it doesn't define me. My story is ongoing, and I'm committed to finding light even in the darkest moments. Thank you for being part of this journey with me. Together, we can find hope and healing.
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Prisoner of My Life.
I remain a prisoner of my life. Unable to escape. Unable to scream. The world beyond me. Beyond this sense of forgiveness, unselfishness, thoughtfulness or understanding. I remain at a stance. Very still. Very quite. I question whether your memory is a blessing or a curse. I love you, but I’m trapped by this love. An unconditional love. Perhaps, this ultimate test of my ability to cope and personal resiliences, is too much for me. Those demons within continue to win. A part of me speaks with words of absurdity. I wish not to part from your memory. But still, I remain imprisoned by my thoughts.
Fading. Crying. Disconnecting. Broken. Time does not heal all wounds. Somedays are better than others, I suppose.
I thought of you today. I thought of you yesterday. Nothing new, though. My mind says one thing. My heart speaks another. Have I made you proud Dad? Or did I become the individual who you prayed I wouldn’t be?
I am afraid. Afraid of my feelings. Afraid of my reality. I am afraid of myself I can no longer distinguish the truth within me. or around me.
Muy pronto, allá en el cielo nos reunirá el Señor
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How I Ended Up Here
I want to say that I am starting this blog in hopes of providing others, even, with the tiniest of hope, and optimistically finding hope for myself. I think the one thing I wished for people to understand about depression and anxiety is that everyone suffers differently. I recently read an article tilted “Your Anxiety Isn’t An Excuse To Be An Asshole” by Chelsea Fagan. I am going to point this out now (I will probably sound like a hypocrite at some point. I will completely agree to that) my issues with this article is that it was too generalise, always pointing fingers, with the idea of “If I feel this way you should too”. I felt the article was a bit rough and a bit self-centered dragging everyone down when talking about anxiety without really standing in that other person’s shoes, seeing it from their point of view. I can understand both points of view, though. I feel irritated when my friend who also suffer from depression forgets about our plans, always switches things last minute. She isolates herself from everyone… At one point, she was my ride or die.. any plan was a go. It’s annoying, but I know I have done that too, but it still doesn’t change the fact that it is annoying. In my experience, I find that when it comes to anxiety, and how an individual is handling it might be disclosed as being an asshole, but I feel this is a misunderstanding. Taken the wrong way. Each person deals with their stress and anxiety different... For example, I learnt that when my body feels extremely anxious or stress it shuts off... and I end up fainting and losing feeling in my legs. I have also had a situation where I have lashed out at people (mind you not on purpose), but those are the moments when my depression and anxiety have me at my limit. People regularly throw my mental illnesses as nothing. People around me sometimes act like my illness is all in my head. I always hear things like “just think positive and that feeling will go away”. The reality is that it never does. This is an illness that even haunts me in my dream. One thing that irritates me is when two people with mental illness start comparing to one another to see who has it worse. LIKE THAT IS NOT OK. This is a dangerous thing… You definitely don’t see two people with cancer going at each other to see who has the most cancer. The problem with depression is that people don’t see it and because of that people don’t want to believe it as a serious illness. I was “officially” diagnosed with clinical depression about eight years ago, but in my opinion, I probably had it much longer than that. Let me get something out there now… I have forgotten an episode of my life, to be more exact I have little to no recollection of my childhood. I guess you could say I have retrograde episodic memory loss. I am acutely aware of my memories around when I was 12/13 years old. In other words, I don’t remember anything until I was in grade 7/8. All I know of my childhood is what people have told me. They are the ones who have shaped my childhood. According to them, it wasn’t a very pleasant one either. I was often in trouble with the teacher for acting out too much. For example, I bit my grade 3 teacher… Why? I don’t know. However, I can tell you that I was brutally bullied as a kid. The bullying didn’t stop until I hit high school.
When I was 14 years old I lost my father, who had died of an aortic dissection, which turns out to be a serious condition which kept reoccurring in my family, in the past seven years I have lost two close uncles to me due to this condition. Apparently, my grandma also died of this when my dad was 18 years old. On February 14th, 2009, I was in a car accident that left me with a neck brace for one month and a half. The result of that was the severe neck, knee and back pain that comes and goes. I think this was when my depression became apparently, and eight months later I lost my dad. Since his death, every six months I have lost someone in my family. Last summer, I lost my maternal grandmother and grandfather. That was another hit. Another story.
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