The fact that depression always crawling over and revisiting you once in a while, I think there will nothing ever the same with the fact that you keep on losing what is and who is important to you. Even Ramadan didn’t feel like it is as always, since I losing my dear aunt who has been like my second mother.
I started to feel like not being myself. I signed out from so many social circles, shut myself up in my room, being ill-mannered to people around me, shoved so many people out of my sight while at the same time crying for help.
I guess nothing will ever be the same since this state of mental illness comes to me regularly. Panicking over little things and have a neverending phase of separation anxiety is just a common circumstance nowadays. Last night, I dreamt of having everyone leaving me. I don’t know where they’re gone. What I know is, it left my sight blurred and blackout, and the next thing I know is I wake up crying.
I considered myself is an expert of life surviving through harsh reality and fate. I always had that kind of armor that I always boasting of. I forged it through the arduous years of a cycle of broke down-cried-got up-struggling-broke down again-cried again-got up again. I didn’t even need anyone back then. I was so strong that I could held myself all alone.
But apparently not this time. I still struggling to recover even after months and months and it never gets better. It’s always a constant feeling of stunted, resented, and unwanted. Even a short getaway or a meetup with friends are no longer healing, it merely a little distraction before those demons and toxic feelings caught me again.
“Recovery won’t take a long time.” A friend said to me.
Apparently, not this time.
I wondering why it creeps me in the first time, and I still can’t find the answer myself. I prefer to think that some of us will get caught in this phase called rock bottom for once in a while. Because listening to podcasts and reading about people who cope with depression almost entire time of their life makes me startled and shivering. Just a few months and I can’t seem to bear with it. How it feels like to deal with it for 25 years?
Maybe it’s my bad sleeping habit?
Maybe it’s my even worst food intake?
Maybe I’m too cruel on myself?
Or maybe I just take it the wrong way?
I tried to fix what I can fix. The majority of people doesn’t have their life put together, I’m aware. Hence maybe it just a mid-life crisis starting too early and, definitely, too extreme. I still doesn’t belong anywhere and anyone and I can’t bring myself to trust those mental helpers enough to tell them what exactly my problems are but I guess I have to try.
And I guess I should life longer.
And I guess, there’s business to be grown and taken care of, thesis to be finished, graduation to be attend, people to be fell in love with, and rejections to be winged.
Along with those demons that I should learn how to get along with.