I’m trying to write. I’m trying really hard. This is the first time in weeks (months?) that I allotted time for writing. It’s not that I’m busy; I haven’t been doing anything and I’m not even exaggerating.
I don’t know what to talk about. There are things. But I’m struggling to get the words out.
So, anong ganap? Haha.
I told my parents about my anxiety and depression. Of course, I only told them the partial truth. I left out details that in my opinion would be too much for them to take.
I wouldn’t have told them about my condition had I only pushed through my studies. I skipped school yet again. And really, I don’t have any valid excuse for doing so.
“If the others can do it, you too should be able to do it. You eat what they it. What would make you any different from them?”
No, it’s not.
My parents tried hard to understand my situation, I have to give them that. I do understand where they’re coming from.
They suggested I talk to a relative, him being a health professional (not a mental health professional, though), and even though I knew what he would say, I still went through with it, if only to put my parents’ minds at ease.
Said relative told me that I don’t have a mental disorder. What I have (i.e. depression and anxiety) is normal. It’s just a state of mind, a condition, not a disease.
Said relative told me that I don’t need my medication. He told me to stop taking them at once.
He told me that he too, experiences anxiety and depression. Everybody does. The only difference is the way people cope with it. I apparently just have to deal with it. He implied that it’s a “mind over matter” thing. But I can’t help but think that sometimes, your own mind is your enemy.
I thought then that maybe it was better when all of them didn’t know anything about what’s happening to me.
I cried after the talk with the relative. In front of my mother. I just.. couldn’t keep the tears from falling. And we’re at a mall. With people walking by seeing me break down.
After a half an hour of not talking and just trying to not think of anything, I suddenly thought that maybe, the relative’s right.
Maybe I really should just ignore my symptoms of anxiety and depression.
I hope he’s right.
The talk with the relative happened more than a week ago. I talked to my psychiatrist a few days ago. I talked to him about what happened. I think he’s a bit offended because it looked like I sought another doctor’s opinion (which is a bad thing on some level). And oh, I almost forgot. I went with my brother as per my parents’ request (because “two pairs of ears and two brains are better than one”).
Right now I’m still taking my medication. I will still work with the psych. I will do what he told me to do: exercise (okay, maybe it was my idea to include exercise to my daily activities), make a schedule, and make sure to do the former two.
I will try to do what the relative told me to do: go out, do things, talk, think about the cause of my ‘depression and anxiety’, think about my life in general, and think about what I want (and need) to do with it.
Right now, I’m trying to pick up the pieces of my broken life.
What are you up to right now?