In 2017, the universe conspired to mess up my life, big time.
It was one of my toughest years. It was so ugly that I could no longer find beauty in anything. I lost my gusto to read novels, write blogs, take photographs, perform well in work, and feel genuine feelings. I would brave the thunderstorms of my life every day for several months.
I performed in work poorly and clocking out from office became a relief.
That time, I became unaccustomed to my hobbies. My blog entries became deficient. The photographs I took became lousy. Books became eyesores.
My body became so much acquainted with liquor. I faked countless laughs just for the sake of it. My self-confidence nosedived; it was so low-slung that I would look at myself in the mirror and feel terrible. My temper got WORST. Being angry about a nonsense thing in a split second became a mega-talent that I couldn’t be proud of.
Happy songs made me cry. Sad songs made me weep more. Crying became my favorite go-to thing. I would cry on the bus, on the train, in the Uber/Grab car, in my office cubicle, in restaurants, and almost anywhere. I would let my tears roll whenever and wherever I want to. I didn’t give a damn to what other people would say. Nothing mattered, anyway. I felt pretty useless.
Days crept in and I tried to go out, but the activities, which are fun for all else, made me existentially disabled to enjoy them. I detached myself from friends because I came to accept that, maybe, happiness is not a thing that I will get to experience again.
The self-loathing and self-pitying became habits, and I felt that it was already late to go back to that point where I constantly cherish myself, so I kept going. Like a bully, I bugged myself out with constant beatings.
You know what is the worst part? The worst part was deciding to keep going when life was that hard.
I thought I was just romanticizing my pains. But, I came to several points where I did not want to be alive anymore. No, I don’t necessarily mean killing myself, but I just want to be dead somehow. Dark emotions engulfed me for so long.
For so many days, waking up was rather a cross than a blessing. And for so many days, mornings were for “what the hell?” and “why am I even alive?” monologues.
My friends would tell me that overused and boring hold-on-sunny-days-ahead kind of consolation. And I was like, “Yeah, right. Sunny days ahead, my ass”. I was miserable.
You see, that is the thing about depression. It is not always something that you can battle against with a mere hope. Depression is not something; they say that it is, in fact, a “nothing”. It just sucks the meaning out of everything.
I tried to ask for professional help, but I was so sunken. I did not know what to share as I did not even know what was happening within me.
But, I held onto that cliched consolation by sheer force of will. I would listen to my gay songs, I would write blogs even if my brain would just give me two sentences per entry, I would take ill-looking photos and admire it anyway, and I would cheer myself up and tell myself that “better days ahead” (overused and boring and cliche, I know).
I talked and cried my heart out to my family and closest friends. You see, these same people who saw me at my lowest were the same people who bawled their eyes out while I was telling them my excruciating stories.
And then, one day, the downpour halted and the sun decided to shine. It was glowing too much that I wept because it has been a while since I had a sunny day.
My brain decided to unleash all the positive thoughts and happiness at once.
I have no heartwarming and tear-jerking story to tell on how I survived.
I have only a weird story to tell why I am still here—it is the story of choosing to keep going when life gets rough every goddamned day. In crucial times like this that I had to choose myself every day over and over again.
Now, I am starting to work on my self-esteem again. I am now back to writing blogs (this is my 1st entry since the downfall), taking photos, reading my overdue books, and dancing to my favorite songs. I am starting to see again the beauty in everything.
During my dark days, when I was alone and downhearted but still holding on, I realized these among others:
- The universe botches up each and everyone’s lives at some point (una-unahan lang), so why quit?
- When everyone has poked so many holes to drain you dry; let the wounds bleed and hurt; weep, if you please. Empty yourself out, but never quit. Only when you are empty that there is a room for new fill.
- You can stop depression from eating you up. Your depression happens for a reason. You have to listen intently to it and you have to do something about it.
- You will meet so many people in your lifetime. Many are temporary. Some will stay for a while and leave eventually. But, only a handful will be your constants.
- Never let go of your constants.
- Think of the old times when you thought you could not make it, but you did. You will definitely make it again.
- You need to have a strong support system.
- Prayer gives you an odd strength to keep going.
If there is one thing that really endures forever, it is the immense love and grace of the Big Guy up there. He was, He is, and He will always be my rest because He loves my “all that was”, “all that is” and “all that will be‘s”.
Truthfully, nobody can make you feel really better and can guarantee that everything is going to be okay, that tomorrow is going to be sunny. But—and I don’t know if this will be of any help to you—the possibility exists that you will have your own story to tell—the story that made you keep going when life gets crappy.
When everything becomes shitty, like desperate shitty, or senseless shitty, or does-not-add-up kind of shitty, or shitty-shitty, maybe when you choose to keep going, you will find out one day that everything happens to you is not shitty at all. In His perfect terms and time, everything will make sense, and you will realize that even your darkest times are part of His grace.
I’m still on the battlefield but I am not going back and I will keep going. I hope you too; ❤️