#I go to the psychiatry tomorrow maybe when I trust myself

[anonymousgirl2002]

...

[ofedmundandlucy]

I still feel ambivalent about this certain topic, but in light of Mental Health Day, I think it’s just appropriate for me to talk about what has been going on with me for the past weeks.

September 12th of this year, I was diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and dysthymia. Probably you are already familiar with PTSD, but I’ll tell you something about dysthymia. Persistent depressive disorder, formerly known as dysthymia, is a mood disorder and a continuous, chronic form of depression. Not as severe as Major Depression, but chronic enough to be deemed as clinically alarming.

If you have been following me for years now, you probably know already that I was severely bullied in school. I was… different. Friends always left me because I could not fit in. There’s this particular day, I can remember it was on March 22, 2011. Literally everyone in class were against me, spitting insults, saying I wasn’t enough. That I was different. Fat. Big. Modest. Isolated. Alone. Introverted. Schizoidal. People stepped away from me as if I had some kind of disease, staring at me and whispering as they saw me. No one wanted to be my friend. That pretty much fucked me up, thus the start of my depressive state. I couldn’t eat. Sleep. Focus. Make a joke. Smile even. I went on spending my days in school without saying a word or producing a sound. How could I be not enough? Maybe, indeed, I wasn’t enough. As I have said, my depressive periods are not really major, but then they are persistent.

PTSD and dysthymia made me feel more alone and useless. They made me feel like I am not worthy of love and respect and everything good in this world. They made my self-esteem drop like crazy, and be jealous of those who don’t have any problem with confidence. They made me forget how to be thankful for my existence. They constantly make me wonder what could the world have been without me. Maybe okay. It wouldn’t make a difference anyway, would it? Sometimes, I get obsessed about the thought of this goddamned place without me. I imagine myself dying.

They shadow the things I should be grateful for, and put a spotlight on the things I cannot have. They gave me severe anxiety of the unknown. They stole my hope. They sucked all the happiness that I could have experienced all these years. They made me vulnerable and sensitive to criticisms. One moment I am happy, then after a second, my mood plummets. I was just realizing that I act happy to mask or compensate for my sadness. But then the severity of my illness rapidly changes that in some days I can’t pretend to be happy anymore. They hinder me from living.

If I tell you I’m okay, I’m not. At least not right now. For the past few months or even when i started posting in April 2011 (I thought by making this blog, I could find refuge. I did.), you have maybe read some of my posts with me venting about my feelings. Over the years, I have received many uplifting messages, and I thank you all for that.

But why do I still consistently feel sad?

I thought I was only being sad, not knowing that I have already been living with a mental illness for more than 7 years. I thought that the diagnoses were going to help me, but it seems that my depressive periods have gotten more persistent. Nevertheless, I’m still learning.

‘It sucks’ is an understatement. No matter how much people tell me it’s going to be fine and that I am worthy, my wrecked brain seems to shut them out. It’s like the word ‘unworthy’ is already locked up in the depths of my mind, and I have lost the key and no one can do anything about it

I feel like I’m pushing people away because of how I behave, which is not what I want but I can’t help doing.

So I should take this opportunity to say sorry about it, particularly to one person here. Sorry @narniadreams for making you cry and not listening to you and wasting your time typing away advice i can’t take. I know you’re also going through a lot, but you still try to help me. I should be thankful for that. I know that sorry wouldn’t suffice if I kept on shutting you and your words out, but I will do my best. I hope you can trust me on this one this time.

I assure you all I can be better. Maybe not now or tomorrow or next week or next month or next year, but someday. I assure you.

It’s also pretty ironic that I have studied Psychiatric-Mental Health Nursing, but then I still let all these happen to me. The truth is, mental illnesses don’t pick their prey. They don’t exclude medical professionals or anyone who have studied the power of the brain. It can happen to anyone, with or without the knowledge of psychology/psychiatry.

That’s why I want you to take care of yourselves holistically. Living with mental illnesses is pretty shitty, you would never want to have one. Prevent yourself from going into deep as much as possible. Seek help or help people out, you’ll never know how much they need it. Please.

Love yourself and don’t let the words and actions of other people ruin you the way it did with me. I’m still struggling as I make this post (My heart is breaking, I am angry at myself, and I don’t know what to do), but that doesn’t hinder me from spreading awareness. I keep on reminding myself to dry my tears and face these challenges. I know that someday I will learn and be free from my cage, my past. Everything will be okay in the end, and if it’s not okay it’s not the end. If you’re having a bad time, do something. It’s okay not to be okay, as long as you know you can get through it. If you’re going through something, smile. Or even when you’re not going through something, smile with us. We are all valid. We all matter