“Now, I understand, what you tried to say to me, How you suffered for your sanity. How you tried to set them free, They would not listen, they did not know how. Perhaps they’ll listen now, For they could not love you, But still your love was true. And when no hope was left inside, On that starry, starry night.” — Vincent, Don McLean.
Hiya, Kevin here. Shit happens, too much going on my mind, more stable but still crying like several times a week. Not healthy, I know. But what can I do? even if I know that I am the one who control myself, I am not the one that on the steering wheel right now. This past four months, many shit happens, and I just shocked I am able to going through that phase, and I hope I can pass the next one to come.
Break a Leg
So, in December, I was working in one company, since October last year, so 3 months, probation phase. The middle of December, i was passed out (you can read it at my first story on 2022, I won’t repeat it here anyway) and long story short, I am having a depressive episode, and I show the severe symptoms of it, Life seems very hard, and many stuff going on my mind up until I am too tired to just got out of the bed. Taking a bath is such an award, like A for Effort type of thing.
I was a mess until I was deemed dysfunctional and can’t even work properly, and just living myself day to day crying and just looking at the screen. My dysthymia was going worse, and shit happens everyday. I was stuck, and on January I wat trying to look for a job again because the probation’s failed miserably and I just too dysfunctional at that time, and I know, it will be too much of a liability on the company’s side, and I clearly can understand that.
My former boss said that it was too fast to start looking for a job in my condition, which, well, I need money to pay for installments and such monthly, and I guess I don’t have a choice besides keep looking for a new job. Yet, I don’t know, for two months i have no job.
Destroy the Ankle
I literally deemed too dysfunctional, mentioned up there. For two months, since January. I got emotional, being a twat to myself and others, and just sarcastic, while emotionally detached. Every effort of others for affections, I can feel it, but I can’t reciprocate anything in return. Crying nearly everyday and having a swollen eye is an everyday chore to me right now, and talking to people or even jsut going out to malls and such is a chore, a trigger happy for my anxiety. Yes, I am depressed, and no manic whatsoever, just pure depression extract and anxiety combined into one evil concoction.
It is hard and feels hard to really have a grasp on reality, and just feeling shitty, self loathing, and being relentless on myself, plus that resentment towards myself. At this stage, I really destroy my way of walking, and just really hopeless. But I’m slowly struggling with what’s left; grasping with my hand. See, I am a persistent and resilient motherfucker, admitted and certified by all people around me, and it is either they like it or they hate it so much it’s annoying. There is no in-betweeners. I still try to be a human being that is able to move myself, and even my hands were crushed as well, might as well I start wiggling with my back and keep moving. Sheesh, that is annoying to think and reminisce about that.
The peak of it though, when Taylor Hawkins found dead. One of my favorite drummer that I always forget the name, just always thought of him as “Dave Grohl’s best buds” which I am welcomed to being judged, Foo Fighters’ fans. I’m crying again like hell, it is such a hard time, because I really love how he played, one of my inspiration of playing and learning drums in the past, besides Jeff Porcaro and Ringo Starr, and Dave Grohl, and John Bonham. They are like a pantheon of drummers for me, and losing Taylor Hawkins is just really sad. Again, I was dysfunctional throughout the week, struggling to do anything.
Fixing the Broken Organs
On March,I get a new job in a company as an e-commerce specialist. The salary is good, but I still live paycheck to paycheck, like literally. I can work again, being functional, on January I got a medical therapy because at last, like “fuck that, I’m taking a meds, made a pact with the devil again” type of thing. I went to a psychiatrist, up until today.
The progress is pretty much incremental, but hey, atomic habits right? 1% incremental progress everyday is better than 30% in a one time then burnout. I was slowly working on my mental health condition, start journaling, meditating, taking meds properly, going to session, and just having a routine that keeps me productive, or at least distracted.
Shit happens, right? Crying, lack of sleep, or having low quality sleep, being shitty to others (which this one is I kinda enjoy), and just slowly to regain my self control, having this guilt whenever I show rage or emotion, even to raise my voice (which I promptly stopped because of the guilt). I pray everyday, and have a reflections and read a book every night. It is becoming my routine, and now I keep meditating on the morning, besides taking my morning meds and just having a morning prayer, and at the evening I take my evening pills, journaling 2 pages of A6 paper notebook, and evening prayer is on the magazine as well.
I still took the top of the pile when it comes to dress up, but now I kinda enjoy having myself dressed well again, like still monochromatic, but with a choice of sneakers (not my usual Superga velcro shoes anymore), and emany choice of outer and upper. Having a good outfit kinda lifts my moods up. So yeah, I’m still progressing slowly, but I never expect emyself to be back to the past anymore, rather building myself from the grown up to be the new one. The past me is sucks ass anyway.
“It’s always been wait and see, A happy day and then you pay, And feel like shit the morning after. But now I feel changed around, And instead of falling down, I’m standing up the morning after” — Say Yes, Elliott Smith
