For the first time in a very long time last night, I hesitated for a long moment before deciding the answer to this question, "Are you depressed at the moment?" I would usually know the answer right away, that I was obviously deeply depressed by the state of my mind, state of my being, and just by being here on earth.
But yesterday, I hesitated. I questioned whether I was depressed. And although I stood at the "yes" zone, deep inside I realised that I wasn't DEPRESSED. I was far from it.
I looked through the archive of my old blog, and read some of my past entries, trying to recall what it felt like to be depressed, and if I bore any resemblance right now to how I felt back then. Here are some excerpts:
Sunday, March 02, 2008
Every day I walk the earth, I feel a greater sense of remorse and grief. I am eating yet another person's bowl of rice, denying another child that right to food. This child could be the person to create the cure for cancer. This child could be the person to create an atmosphere of warmth and love for thousands of other people out there. But who am I? Who am I to be taking away this child's right? I am, obviously, not creating nor am I close to creating the cure to cancer. I am obviously not bringing joy to anyone else's life right now, much less to the lives of a thousand people out there.
Monday, January 21, 2008
"You are a 40-year-old trapped in a 15-year-old's body"
An old person in a young body, a sad person with a bubbly personality... Why do so many extreme opposites exist in my life?
I'm sinking deeper and deeper into depression; I'm afraid I'll never recover this time. I gather all my strength and courage, and realise that there is nothing that makes or breaks a person more than the feeling of being crushed.
What was it I said last week? Oh yeah. That. "Nothing makes you stronger than being pushed to breaking point, when everything feels so wrong and you could never be sadder than that."
Of course. Nothing. But this.
Sunday, January 06, 2008
So there I was, sitting in Murni, after a heated discussion and a waiter who came up to me and commented that I was pretty; adding up to the oddness of a night that was yesterday, and all of a sudden I just curled. Literally. I wanted to go home. My shawl wrapped tightly around me, I had wanted to hurl it away, take my clothes off, and run home.
It wasn't anger. It wasn't outrage. I hardly had any energy to care if my food was coming, even after waiting for half an hour. I could hardly muster up enough strength to raise my hand to enquire. Because at that very moment, all I wanted to do was to go home. I wanted the pain to go away. I just wanted it to disappear, along with my physical self, from this earth that we call home. Because I felt as if I had no home - no place to belong - and I felt small, and all alone.
We left. He bought some food for me, although I barely had any appetite to eat, and I was sure that my stomach was unable to digest any bits and pieces of food. But he bought it anyway. We went home. I ate. He watched. And then I sat and poured my heart out. I could think of a billion reasons for a heartache... breakups, divorce, broken friendships, losing your favourite book, ruining your favourite outfit, being homeless, or even having your partner cheating on you. But how do you comprehend something when your heartache is there merely because of your existence? How could simply being on earth, cause you so much pain?
There are nights when I come home, kick my shoes off, lie in bed, and I wonder, I wonder, if I will ever find a purpose to being. A purpose to this life.
Of course, it is much easier to blame it all on the weather. Rainy days make you sick. But I thank God for blessing me with someone who, despite it all, sees through me and holds my hand and tells me "it's not your fault". I remember asking, "But is it really?" But I don't want to know the answer. Never.
I only went as far back as the beginning of 2008 because this was "me" merely a few months back. This was "me" before I decided that I had to do the things I love doing in my life in order for me to love life. This was "me" before I fell in love with LIFE all over again.
This was "me" then. I was unhappy.
I used to think that I would only be happy if I made others happy. I used to think that I had to make a difference in other people's lives to be happy. I would feel extremely selfish if I ever had the slightest glimmer of wanting to be happy for myself; I would often feel like it was selfish mistake. But now I see it differently, and if anything, more clearly. If all of us were put here on earth for a reason, and if all of us are essentially looking for happiness, by pleasing ourselves and making ourselves happy, we may essentially be making everyone else happy as well. To each our own. Our own lives. Our own faith. Our own happiness.
What a difference a small time can make. I used to work on too many operatives like "tomorrow" or "yesterday", dwelling on my past and hoping too much for my future. But now, there is only one operative word that comes to mind - TODAY. And today, I am smiling. Today, I am happy.
Today, I am IN LOVE with LIFE.
Today, I am ALIVE.
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