Faith

When I gave up on myself, a lot of people around me got so disappointed, to the point that even they gave up on me. They promised that they'd always be there, and that I can always talk to them whenever I needed someone to talk to.

The thing is, I always get criticised and put down whenever I speak to them about whatever it is I feel. Can't they see that my way of thinking is distorted? A.K.A. I'm pretty fucked up. Haha! And obviously, I've done a lot of research about my condition because I'd want to gain further understanding about whatever's happening to me, since I can't go to a professional who can explain everything to me in detail. And they think going to a psychiatrist won't help/would be pointless because.. I honestly don't know why. =))

I'm sick of looking at this from the emotional point of view. I know there's something scientific about my condition. Sure, blame me for becoming like this, but there's always a reason behind it. The main thing though, it's because I've been hiding so much negative emotions for such a long time and I wasn't able to let it out in a healthy manner. Count all the years of trauma from losing a father figure, and deprivation of explanations of what's happening, BAM, you get Junessa Rendon.

So last night, my mom and I had an argument about religion, FOR THE NTH TIME. She kept saying that she just can't understand and accept the fact that my generation isn't as religious as she was/is. I simply told her that I wasn't ready to accept God wholly. I don't want to force myself to become religious and end up sinning more because I'm such a poser.

I try, you know. In my own little way. I go to church every sunday and serve in our parish choir. I even talk to Him occasionally in a casual manner whenever I'm alone. But my mom doesn't know that. Does she need to? Do I need to tell her every single religiously-related thing I do? NO. That's between me and God. I find it personal. Okay? Okay.

She keeps comparing me to herself ALL THE TIME. Like, she kept saying that she doesn't dwell on her problems, and that she was taught to be strong and shit. And I'm like.. Sorry, I was only taught to keep my mouth shut so that World War III wouldn't happen. Nobody ever cared about how I felt about a certain situation because they all assumed that I can handle it, even at a really young age. I was taught to be numb until I couldn't handle it anymore. And my breaking point was when my dad came back to live with us again two years ago. That's where it all just.. lefgyidcfouedaisudoas

WELL, now she thinks of me as a person possessed by an evil spirit that sucks out all the happiness and life left in me. What a religious being you are, dear mother. Lol. Instead of respecting my own religious views, you always think of the most malicious and evil things ever. All the time. Admit it. AND she even said that the reason why I'm like this is because I'm not religious. lksjadjbhjsvgytcduaosidl. There's a fine line between being religious and superstitious. Kbye.

She kind of said that because I blurted out the statement: "God can't cure me."

HOLD UP.

(lol defensive-ness but honestly this is what I meant)
I DIDN'T MEAN IT IN THE "I don't have faith" SENSE. Fuck. My wording was just totally wrong. I mean, God can't help me (not technically), not my mom, not my sisters, not my aunt, not even my boyfriend. Only I can help myself. It still boils down to ME. And I can't even help myself. That's why it's so difficult. My condition has become an addiction. Which is totally sick and wrong, I know, but yeah, IT'S LIKE THAT.

Now she thinks I'm an atheist or something.
Great. Good job, Junessa.

OKAY going back to my condition, I have acknowledged that I am too fucked up for my own good THEREFORE, I have decided to seek professional help. My aunt's got my back on this and my boyfriend's going to go with me during my sessions, and I think my mom just doesn't want to talk anymore, and I think my siblings.. Well idk anymore because they don't talk to me as often as before.

Alright. It's time to face the long list of issues I have to resolve.

I can foresee that this will be a LOOONG road to recovery and I'm totally terrified but whatever. I would love to feel like a normal human being again.

9:51 AM Thoughts

I saw this disturbing image on facebook the other day, and I just had to share it because I got to relate to it so much. It was a comic strip, relaying the story of a dog, wondering if his master was successful in his attempt to "fly". And indeed, the attempt was a success, because the comic strip showed the image of feet that seemed to be floating.

The scene progressed, and the dog's owner was already hanging from his ceiling fan--dead.

In just a few frames, that comic strip bluntly defined what it feels like to have depression--that, no matter how many reasons you have to be happy, you just can't. Even if you have a billion, or even just one, you lose all sense of lightness and joy. You eventually just lose your will to live and, well, you give up on the world, and on yourself.

Last night, I almost had an episode. And I was so scared of what I could've done. I suddenly had urges to pull my hair out, scream and run around, cry, hurt myself with the first thing I saw (which was a twig so it'll never work so okay haha), and even hurt someone I love. I needed to see blood in order to feel calm again.

Of course I did none of those because I was in public (but at that time, I didn't give a fuck) and I was trying to get a grip of myself. I ended up chain smoking. Hahaha. Okay. Well that sort of helped, since I smoked one stick in less than two minutes. And while I was smoking, I was giving everyone around me death glares which made my whole body twitch like a fucker.

After the whole situation was resolved, I realized that my thoughts were just NOT normal. At all. I literally felt like I was going crazy. I kept saying things like, "kailangan kong magpakamatay (I need to die)" and "ayoko na ayoko na (I don't want this anymore)".

I was even pacing from one end of the hallway to the other, not blinking, not feeling the pain of my eyes that were drying up, not thinking about what other people could've been thinking. I was just walking back and forth, silently, and I was completely dazed and out of my element.

Well, that was creepy. Haha.

The Void

And in the darkness she crept back. Millions of thoughts enter her mind. She patiently ponders on each one, as torturous as it may seem. She had the whole night, and enough darkness to conceal her and her tear-stained face.

She is ugly. So she hides in a place where she could pretend that she doesn't exist.
She wants to get out but desperately tries not to. This is her only form of escape.

So she gives herself a reminder that she still does, indeed, exist.

A painful, yet temporary reminder.
The one that stings when water runs through it--and only water can erase the stains away.

Thinking about how she just can't get her life in order, back to the way it was.. It was so frustrating.

She wants to get better, but she can't. Things keep pulling her into a downward spiral.

And now she is stuck in the void. Helpless.

#WhatIDoWhenIAmAlone

That wonderful hashtag in twitter greeted me good morning. And I haven't written anything in a while, so okay. I thought I would give it a go since it kind of sparked my frustrated-writer-ness. Also, I have more than one answer to that hashtag.

In relation to my current condition, for those of you who know, leaving me alone is dangerous. I'll give a brief description of what happens, if, well, you don't know. Well, first, I isolate myself from the world like a badass ninja. You won't even notice how I left. Then I start thinking about this thing I have. I think about it a lot actually, even when I'm surrounded by a sea of people. So I think, and think, and think. What started as harmless thoughts slowly transform into triggering urges that make me want to kill myself.

The mind is very powerful, they say. It's true. Things that don't exist become real if you want them to. Things you don't want to see suddenly become visible. You don't know what's real from what isn't anymore. And you're stuck in between, being at war with yourself, because you're trying to get out from this black hole you're being sucked in.

Eventually, I get sucked in this void, completely far off from light and reality, and my ugly thoughts take over.

And I hate myself for being like that. Well, what can I say. MY BRAIN IS FUCKED UP HAHAHA. At first I thought my eyes were just fooling me, but no. MY BRAIN IS. Okay.

HEY I'm not saying I'm a crazy psychotic bitch who sees things. Well it's sort of like that when I stand in front of the mirror. And right there, I already gave you a hint of this condition I have.

Oh God, I talk too much. Whatever. Just a random thought for this afternoon before I prepare for class.