I re-read some of the entries in my journal. Almost all (or all; who am I kidding) of the entries were depressing. But then again, I was depressed (I still am, I’m just on break).
Here are excerpts from some of my entries. I pity my younger (technically) self.
“I’m tired of this shit. I’m tired of being tired with this shit.
I don’t know what to do anymore. Where to go. Who to talk to. How to go about life without dying inside every passing day. I don’t even know why I’m still alive.
Damn it. I think I’m starting to have those suicidal thoughts again. I hate this part of depression the most.”
“wasted the day away. I woke up nauseous and dizzy from the medicine I shouldn’t have taken in the first place (taking 300 mg of Tramadol Hydrochloride is never a good idea). It’s a little gratifying yet at the same time terrifying, thoughts of fatal over-dosage slowly coming to my mind as I vomited into a garbage bag. I was sleepy and dizzy as hell, so I opted not to attend my make-up duty at ****.”
“My friend nearly cried while I was telling her my story [of having depression]. I asked her why, and I realized, if I were in her shoes; hearing about a friend wanting to die and being miserable, but having no ability to do something about it, I’d cry too. I’d feel bad.
But I’m not in her shoes. I was the friend who wants to die and is miserable. So I did not feel like crying. I did not feel bad about myself. I felt that I deserved everything that happened to me.”
“To be fair, we also talked about her life. Obviously she had problems of her own. But I was more than willing to be there for her.
Because that’s what friends do, I figured. Friends are there for each other, even when the only thing they can do for each other is cry and feel bad.”
“A relatively fun day, I think. These thesis meetings with my… well, thesis mates are starting to grow on me.”
“Cheers for a happy day today and a dreadful one tomorrow.”
“What a fun day. Relatively fun, compared to the last few weeks I’ve had. Not that our data collection for our study was fun. But I had fun talking to people today. It was nice to see them again, much more talk to them. I was wrong when I thought I’m going to have a bad time today.”
“I have learned a few things. One of them is the word ‘halamang-singaw,’ a Filipino word referring to a fungus, or a plant that has no flower (I have to double check this). That, and that the word ‘ejaculation’ means or is synonymous to ‘a short prayer.’ Yep, weird times.”
“And, well, I listened to Frozen songs almost all day. What could be more fun than that.”
“2 sticks [of cigarettes]. Half a bottle of an alcoholic drink. A small cup of instant noodles. A small pouch of pork and beans. A bunch of match sticks burned. Senate hearing on the television. And a completely fucked up mind.
Oh, and a pathetic life. What a happy human I am.”
Reading these entries again, I remember that I’m feeling better now. Maybe temporarily, but better is better.
You know what else I realized?
I survived. Those entries in my journal are just a small part of what I went through.
But I survived.
So I guess the thing I need to do right now, and in the future, is to continue to survive.