Because I realize there are so many things that we could never know about other people unless they told us. So many dark places that are impossible to find unless other people allow us to find them.
–excerpt : How Can You Be Dreprssed by: Charlie Scaturro
Since my last post, a lot of things have happened. Mostly sad. And since I have nothing positive to share, I decided to be silent. That happened not just here but also on all other social media I am part of. Unlike others, I don’t post anything that may make people curious and ask. If I don’t feel like talking about something nor am I comfortable answering their questions, I keep quiet. Simple right? Well, at least that’s what I thought. I tried not to entertain sad thoughts by keeping my self busy. Exhausting myself both physical and mental so I can finally call it a day. But is that really the case? During my waking hour, it’s always a constant battle for me. I struggle to maintain my composure. I smile a lot to compensate. Sometimes I feel I am on auto pilot and that I am doing stuff because that’s the routine. It’s tiring to be honest, sometimes even exhausting for someone who lost drive and interest to stuff that one used to enjoy doing.
You see, I have this illness called clinical depression. Very few know of my condition. Little does my family know, but I’m back having those episodes. I tried to tell them but their immediate reaction was I don’t need to go back taking meds nor doing those sessions again. That I just need to go out. I wish people will understand that it’s hard to make someone do something when there’s no more drive, no more hope.
I still manage to wake up every day and that I am thankful of. But the real struggle begins when I need to act and make rational decisions everyday as if everything is normal.
I shattered when people don’t appreciate me esp those that matter. I compensate by being bubbly. I smile a lot. I sometimes even rub off what they call positivity. But what they don’t know is that I am in a constant battle trying not to look depressed, afraid they might ask questions I am not ready to answer or simply avoiding the topic. Because once I start, I am sure to breakdown. That constant battle trying to ignore triggers by diverting attention. When at work and I know I can’t handle it anymore, I go to the restroom and inside the cubicle I cry. I cry until I know I’ve cried enough for me to wear that mask again. And no one knows. Only because they are seeing just the physical — I smile a lot. But looking beyond, you can see that I am crying, struggling and sometimes feeling hopeless deep inside.
–my response to Charlie’s post (Medium)