breath of fresh air

 I felt good today. 

"Good" in the sense that "I didn't need my Feel Good Friday! playlist to keep the negative thoughts away." "Good" in the sense that "I didn't have to look up to keep the tears from falling." And "good" in the sense that "my breathing was at a nice, constant pace."

It has been awhile since I felt like this. It usually feels as though there is a dark cloud above my heard. Or a pair of heavy hands around my neck. But today, the sky was clear and I felt like I could breathe. 

I read from a book that I should take notes on good days so that I can recreate them. But I can't seem to find the reasons today. Is it because I thought I might die the night before and this is some sort of rebirth? Or is it because there is a newfound acceptance and a breath of fresh air after each time you hit rock bottom?

I honestly do not know. But in the meanwhile, let me enjoy this fleeting moment of reprieve before the demons start dancing again.

come back, mel

why does sanity feel so fragile? is the human mind that weak, or is it just mine? 

i’m standing on a lake of ice, about to crumble at any moment and leave me sinking into the abyss.

 

or perhaps i am already in the abyss.

 

the to-do-list piles up quicker than i can check them off. the waking moments are getting fewer and fewer. 

 

i don’t mean to say that i’m in slumber. but i might as well be.

 

i don’t remember what i ate. i don’t remember what i said to you. i don’t remember how my face feels, when i’m out at sea and the wind carries my personality. 

 

i keep shrinking deeper and deeper. and it feels as though i might really disappear one day. 

 

i don’t want to, though. i look at the people around me, full of vitality in their eyes. and i keep begging myself, “come back, mel, please come back.” i don’t remember now, but i’m sure i was in their shoes a long, long time ago. when my mind was in full control of my body, and i wasn’t just a walking zombie.

 

i hope i’ll see the light the one day. but in the meanwhile, i’ll keep swimming in the abyss. and hope that even as this empty shell of a human that i am, you will still love me.

 

will you please hold my hand, and make me feel alive once again?

anger.

a racing heart. deep breaths. clenched fists. nausea. and an overwhelming urge to destroy something- anything. left unchecked, it will spiral into an unbridled monster that consumes your every passing thought and moment.

that all too familiar feeling. hello, anxiety? no, my therapist said, “it’s not anxiety, it’s anger.”

i think there’s a thin line between anger and anxiety. the physical symptoms feel almost identical. and they both make you feel that perhaps numbness is better. perhaps feeling nothing at all is better. perhaps depression is better.

but one is directed at the past (something that has already happened) and the other at the future (a crippling fear that the past repeats itself). 

i always ask myself, though - what am i angry or anxious about? am i angry at the people who hurt me or the situations that drove me to the brink of insanity? am i anxious that similar things would happen and i might lose my mind one day? 

i don’t think so. 

i think my anger is directed at myself. for bearing the pain again, and again, and again until there was nothing left of me. for losing myself in the pursuit of something so fleeting. for not loving myself as i should have. 

and my anxiety is triggered by the fear that i’ll make the same mistakes again. that i’ll allow myself to become that unrecognisable person that i was once again. and that at the end of the day, it was because i brought it upon myself. 

no, never again.

all is vanity and a striving after wind. 

there are so many emotions to untangle. i should probably see my therapist soon. 

my mental health journey

I wrote this in my drafts two years ago, in January 2021. 

Dear Diary,

Last night was a very difficult night and I felt like putting an end to it over and over again. In my desperation, I called out to Him - the one person who claims to understand me completely - saying, "If you are real, please help me." Silence. Even at my wits end, silence. 

This morning as I sit in bed typing this, I think about all the people I love and who love me. I think about how sad they would be if I were gone. How kind they have been to me. How tolerating. And how they don't understand me. I realised, clearer than ever, that I'm alone in this world. We all are. No one person truly understands another.

Looking back at the past few years, I'm amused by how far I've come in my mental health journey. There were countless times that I genuinely believed that I would not make it past the age of 30; but here I am, celebrating yet another year with my family and friends, and another year closer to 30. 

If there's anything I have learned in 2022, it is that you don't have to suffer alone. 

In the past few years, my mind was in a very dark place. There were days I would lie in bed till 3p.m. in the afternoon before finding that tiny bit of motivation to get up and face the day. There were days when the brain fog got so bad that simple administrative tasks seemed impossible to complete. 

For those who have not experienced it before, anxiety (from my perspective) feels like...

8a.m. coffee routine because you need the sense of familiarity. Settling all the admin work at once while you're okay, before the brain fog sets in. "ASMR for relaxation" Spotify playlist. Forgetting your passwords. Being perpetually thirsty. 143 unread messages. Switching playlists to find one that calms your nerves. Cancelling plans. 7p.m. beer. The overwhelming urge to crush your brain. Heavy breathing. Hands shaking. 10p.m. whisky. Telling yourself that this too shall pass. Repeat.

This was my constant battle, and I felt so alone. I didn't talk to anyone about my struggles probably because I didn't want to be a burden, I was worried about people's perception of me, and I thought it was futile. When your mind is deep in the gutter, it is impossible to see past your struggles and believe that you could ever get better. I believed that this was my fate, and the only thing I could do was to learn to live with it.

I'm not sure what hit me but in the latter half of 2022, I finally decided that I was done with barely living my life. I sought help and opened up about my struggles. My only regret today is that I didn't do it earlier. 

It has been a long time since I looked up to the sky and thought to myself, "ah, what a beautiful day". I did that today. My mind feels a lot lighter, and clearer. And I think I could almost say that I'm happy. There are still bad days, but I know that they will pass.

I decided to open up about my mental health journey today because I wanted to let those who are suffering alone know that it is okay to ask for help. There is professional help out there and if you don't know where to start, you can drop me an e-mail/DM. Things could get better. 

a passage from Yung Pueblo's Clarity & Connection that really helped me