I knew something was very wrong with me but I don’t know exactly what was wrong with me. The word “depression” came to my mind and I googled about it. I googled many times and read so many articles. And there was this e-book that I randomly found online while googling entitled “I’m Still Human: Understanding Depression with Kindness” on the Kuala Lumpur Buddhist Mental Health Association website.
This book kind of signalled to my heart and brain that maybe, just maybe I need to see a doctor. I told my sister and my boyfriend that I might be suffering from depression and maybe I need to see a doctor.
The things that I had to go through include the following (in no particular order):
String of mild diarrhoea for no apparent reason (definitely not the food poisoning kind). Nauseous. Heart beating faster when I wake up in the morning. Shortness of breath usually in the morning just when I’m about to brush my teeth. Feeling scared most of the time. Feeling worthless. Not feeling confident at all. Lose of appetite. Feeling fatigue and lethargic even though I have had enough sleep. Waking up early in the morning, like really early 4am and can’t get back to sleep. In contrast, I slept a lot too on some days. Lose of interest in things I used to love (This is totally scary). Crying spells with no apparent reason and most of the time unexplainable. Shakey hands (This freaked me out). Inability to focus and concentrate. Inability to decide even the simplest thing. Feeling sad most of the time. Feeling guilty of not being good enough. Restlessness. Being grumpy.
I’m suffering from depression. Who would have thought?
I don’t know how and when it started but I guess it was an accumulation of events from the recovery of my eye surgery which was very tough for me, a job I don’t find purpose or meaning in it, trying to be so many things yet not becoming any of it, was always feeling afraid, always feeling I can always be better.
I went into a state of hopelessness, helplessness, darkness and the inability to feel anything within me. In other words, I was just dead inside, which I think is worse than actually dying physically.
I couldn’t make even the simplest decision. I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t concentrate. I feel that my memory is failing me and that there is a possible brain damage because I just can’t seem to connect the dots of even the simplest of things. Everything required effort.
As of writing, I’m recovering well and recovering fast. This would be followed by a series of my depression short stories. Stay tuned.
Driving out last night with my sister to get a chocolate sundae at McDonald’s Drive Thru after craving for ice cream for a week.