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.

A Mirror

I looked into it and stared for what seemed like an eternity. As the corners of my eyes darkened and blurred, the centre of everything seemed to be more focused and clear. Though it pains me not to close my eyes and blink, it felt as if every millisecond mattered.

You. You were the centre.

I see myself in you. What you are right now, is what I was. What you were, is what I am. We both know all the problems and solutions, and we can both go through them, even if it means going through them twice in both our lifetimes. We are wise, or maybe even foolish enough to help each other, knowing that we've both gone through a lot of pain to get to where we are right now.

We are each others' reflections made permanent and physical. We are the epitome of self-destruction and resilience. Though it is impossible to completely conceal all the cracks and defects, we can accept them wholly.

Why? Why can I? Why can you? I find it impossible to love myself, but you can. You find it hard for someone to take you as you are, and I can.

"Why?" is not the right question, but "how?"

"How" opens so much more doors.
How can we be able to feel this way towards each other when we were the persons who we used to be--ugly, scarred, hurt, unloved, deprived, and hidden.

I guess that's why.

Naive

Spending nights outside, being eaten by mosquitos, and just talking--about everything. Friends, high school days, family shit, life, and random things about each other.

What they have is so innocent. Like two little kids playing in a sandbox.

Though it frightens the both of them, knowing she's so young, and he's already been through enough. Oh, the endless possibilities. And yet, they're taking the risk.

You see, this girl is me. I am weak, vulnerable, and sick.

He came in without notice, and he turns out to be more than willing to help me.

I'm afraid that he just might manipulate me. But then again, no.
He's afraid that one day, I just might want to "have fun" and have "YOLO" moments.

Personally, I don't need that right now. It won't help me. And I don't want other sources of headaches.
I don't want to hate myself even more for doing the things I merely thought would help me "live life to the fullest".

Today's concept of "fun" is fooling around and getting drunk. I don't want that for myself. I've had a taste of it, and I don't like the feeling.

I've had my fair share of heartaches. Well, actually, no, not yet haha. But.. Yeah.

Not now, not tomorrow, not ever--would I want to feel so different and so far-off from who I really am. I've been there. I've asked myself "how did I become this way" because a lot of things just happened, all at once. And I changed.

This is indeed, a trying time for me. Being at war with myself, every single day, is exhausting.

And he's volunteering to help me.

I keep telling him that one day, he'll just grow tired of taking care of me, and that he'll just leave.
But he promised. Not only to me, but to my family.
And he feels pressured.

At some point, I just think he'll break. And I will understand.
Because right now, nothing is easy. Nothing is sure. Nothing is permanent.

But at least before we put a period to this sentence, we both got to feel young, innocent and alive, with the company of coffee and music.

This Fear

I don't even know where to begin. This whole time, I've been in denial. I've been keeping this in for so long. And to finally be face to face with this. To finally let it out. To finally ask for help. Even scream and beg for help--to let myself be this vulnerable when I already was to begin with.

I am, undoubtedly, terrified.

I hear and feel all the support from the people around me. Right now, there's really no reason to hide the fact that I'm sick, because I am. But then, this is also the time that I will know who truly cares about me.

And the fact that since a handful of people already know what's going on, their treatment towards me changed. Let me get something straight; I do not want to be pitied, and most of all, I do not want to be a liability to everyone around me, just because they think they have to watch over me. Just because I'm sick.

I do not want to be a burden.

The thought of not wanting to get better just so I won't see the people I care about suffer in front of me always enters my mind. But then I want to get better. I don't want to be angry anymore. I just want to be normal again.

A couple of days ago, literally, the first thing I saw in the morning when I woke up, was my crying mother. At that moment, I knew that she already knows what's going on. I didn't want to tell her because typically, she'll start blaming herself for everything. How can I make her understand that I didn't become like this because of her? That image, my dear reader, is (for lack of better words) FUCKED UP.

This thing that's happening to me--let's just say that it's already a part of me. If I force myself to get better, it's tantamount to amputating a limb from my body. Yes, it's that difficult. To the point that I have to go through an emotionally and mentally scarring cycle every time I feel like it's going to happen again.

When does it happen? Everyday. It's pure torture.

It's only now that I've come to realize how bad this is. I mean, I've already done my research, but the mental effect is NOTHING like the things I've read before. Sure, I've heard similar stories and they scared the shit out of me. But if you were to put yourself in my place, even you couldn't understand what's going on.

It's like you've been living a lie. It's like a different person has taken over you. It's like you just don't want to get better anymore.

People who are like me all have back stories. We have reasons as to why we do this/why it happened. It's complicated because most people just look at what they see on the surface. They don't have enough initiative to dig deeper so they would understand. And we end up being hated and laughed at.

If you happen to be one of those people, let me tell you something; don't get angry at us. Don't hate people like us. We are definitely NOT superficial beings. We look at things differently, and it's always on the heavier and darker side.

The jokes I had to live with for a while because people didn't know, really did hurt me deep inside. But then, they don't know anything. I didn't have the right, nor the strength to get angry at them. Ignorance is indeed bliss.

Now I'm tired. I'm tired of fighting. I'm just.. Exhausted. But I have to keep fighting. I can't even explain how difficult it is to keep going.

I'll end this with a message for the people who know what's going on:
I just don't want to be a burden. I don't want to be treated differently. I want to be normal, just like all of you. I sincerely thank all of you for all the support you guys have been giving me, and for not leaving me alone. If ever you see me just sitting in one corner, crying, shaking, and silent, don't ask me what's wrong because you already know why. And i'd be too weak to answer any questions. Just a pat, a hug. You can even hold my hand. That's enough. Any other action would be the death of me. And please, don't force me to do the one thing I'm currently having difficulty in doing. It's difficult enough to try and stop myself from doing the other thing. Ang labo no? Haha.

Believe me, I am ashamed of what I am right now. But I have to put it out there so I can get better.

Now I'm going to let people in.