Do you find yourself waking up in the middle of a 15° night, panting, sweating, shaking to the bone? Do you find anxiety to be an irreplaceable companion that chooses to linger when you clearly don't want it to? Do you walk to the mirror just to check if your face still belongs to you, if the horrors that you've dreamed of still have a place behind your eyes?
Every now and then, so do I.
It began abruptly, due to things better left unsaid, circumstances better left undescribed. Swift as was its scythe, it chose to rip apart the very fabric of my psyche and turn my rationale into all but a joke. Many have fallen prey to such illness, and it has claimed the lives of several thousand.
Mental illness is no joke. It takes therapy to treat oneself, and medicine can only take you so far - or so they say. I wish someone out there said this more often - it is possible to fight mental illnesses by yourself. I've fought depression and anxiety. Simultaneously. I still fight it when tries to surface again. I am no longer the happy-go-lucky guy I used to be, and in an odd sense, I am somehow relieved by that.
Although it is certainly a boon to be able to afford a therapist, it is still a luxury to be able to consult one, mainly due to social stigma and the belief that you don't need a doctor unless something is wrong with your body. I never had the courage to ask my parents for any kind of therapy. I am also unwilling to pay exorbitant charges to therapists when I have done pretty well all by myself. Well, I've had friends but they were only there throughout the hours the sun would shine.
What did I do? Did I give up all hope? Did I cry myself a river for my struggle?
No. Absolutely not.
I simply changed my life. In order to find a short-term solution, I joined the gym. I put myself in a schedule so rigorous, I genuinely believed I would perish if I stuck to it. And yet, here I stand. For a long term solution, I decided to mend my psyche by reading. I read about diet, about philosophy, history and I searched for purpose. I decided that until I found my purpose, I would pick one. Upon achieving it, I would pick another. And so on. Although my purpose is too personal to share, a wish too intimate to divulge, I know now that my purpose drives me, even if I were to have a broken body. I've discovered interests I would have never dreamed of, met people I would have never come across and had experiences that given me pure joy.
Yes, I still wake up in the middle of a chilly night sweating, panting and shaking, and yes, I cannot simply put a stop to such nights. But I can make sure I do not falter or hesitate, that I keep moving forward with all my heart. I do have friends and family, after all. I have myself. And dear reader, I have you.
Every now and then, so do I.
It began abruptly, due to things better left unsaid, circumstances better left undescribed. Swift as was its scythe, it chose to rip apart the very fabric of my psyche and turn my rationale into all but a joke. Many have fallen prey to such illness, and it has claimed the lives of several thousand.
Mental illness is no joke. It takes therapy to treat oneself, and medicine can only take you so far - or so they say. I wish someone out there said this more often - it is possible to fight mental illnesses by yourself. I've fought depression and anxiety. Simultaneously. I still fight it when tries to surface again. I am no longer the happy-go-lucky guy I used to be, and in an odd sense, I am somehow relieved by that.
Although it is certainly a boon to be able to afford a therapist, it is still a luxury to be able to consult one, mainly due to social stigma and the belief that you don't need a doctor unless something is wrong with your body. I never had the courage to ask my parents for any kind of therapy. I am also unwilling to pay exorbitant charges to therapists when I have done pretty well all by myself. Well, I've had friends but they were only there throughout the hours the sun would shine.
What did I do? Did I give up all hope? Did I cry myself a river for my struggle?
No. Absolutely not.
I simply changed my life. In order to find a short-term solution, I joined the gym. I put myself in a schedule so rigorous, I genuinely believed I would perish if I stuck to it. And yet, here I stand. For a long term solution, I decided to mend my psyche by reading. I read about diet, about philosophy, history and I searched for purpose. I decided that until I found my purpose, I would pick one. Upon achieving it, I would pick another. And so on. Although my purpose is too personal to share, a wish too intimate to divulge, I know now that my purpose drives me, even if I were to have a broken body. I've discovered interests I would have never dreamed of, met people I would have never come across and had experiences that given me pure joy.
Yes, I still wake up in the middle of a chilly night sweating, panting and shaking, and yes, I cannot simply put a stop to such nights. But I can make sure I do not falter or hesitate, that I keep moving forward with all my heart. I do have friends and family, after all. I have myself. And dear reader, I have you.
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