Happy, happy, Joy, Joy August 28, 2008

I don’t know why, and the feeling is strangely new to me.

I am happy.

And the euphoria is eating me up whole.

And no, I don’t think I’m going manic this time. My head isn’t racing, and I’m not paranoid.

I’m just filled with joy and motivation.

I keep hopping about the place and smiling and laughing and all the good, giddy things that I vaguely remember I once did so freely as a child.

I am loving this life.

Suicide? What’s that? Hahaha.

I can laught at the face of death and smirk at the wake of tears. They have not their places here.

I am happy and euphoric. I am complete.

Realizations August 25, 2008

The pressure to be well has never been greater. It’s almost like a race; a marathon that I cannot lose. I’ve just started the and yet the finishing line looms ahead. I cannot be unwell. It cannot happen. It cannot be. For enumerable reasons, which I cannot say here. The pressure is rising in my throat.

It’s good pressure, however, and I like it.

I will be better. Already, I feel normal. I don’t think I need these medicines anymore. (But maybe I feel this way precisely because I am on them!)

But it is a race.

It is a game that, whatever happens in this life, I cannot and WILL NOT lose.

Still Water August 18, 2008

The surface runs placid just before the dreaded undertow.

I can say no more than this: that there is more to everything nowadays than meets the eye, or the ears, for that matter.

Oh to be in quiet desperation all the while, and clinging to the last shreds of hope, and of sanity, while pretending to smile.

Unwell. Again.

Ethereal August 16, 2008

I feel bad about it.

I’m so sorry.

I never meant to do it.

I promise not to it again.

Like everything that has happened recently, I mean to change everything this time around.

Please forgive me.

Hello, World August 12, 2008

I just came from Dr. Los Baños.

The gist of it: We’re both happy that I’m happy, but we think that there will be bumps in the road ahead and I won’t be able to handle it again.

So I’m prescribed Seroquel (quetiapine) 100mg for those times, to take as prn, so that I’ll just sleep the hell away. That’s right. My third antipsychotic. At least it’ll be taken only when I need it. It’s supposed to quell anxiety and just make me sleep till next week, which is good when I’m being paranoid and crying and wanting to hurt myself (which I promised myself I won’t do). He said to warn him beforehand in cases when I think I’m going to have a crisis. So warn him I will. He won’t prescribe me benzodiazepines because he knows my tendency to abuse them, and he knows that I can use them for a suicide attempt, which would be counterproductive.

So that would be the solution to my crisis: sleep.

I just wish I won’t have to resort to it anymore. I wish I’ll be crisis-free from now on. I can do it. I will do it.

I will laugh. I will smile. I will hope. I will do these things. I no longer linger in the darkness. I will emerge proud and victorious from this, no matter what comes my way. No matter what, no matter what. I have to keep telling myself that. Because at the back of my head, I know that there are certain circumstances that will break me again. But I refuse to be broken. I refuse to be broken again. I am investing so much effort into being whole again. I will not be broken again. I will not let anything break me. I hope nothing breaks me again. But I need help here. I know I am not yet strong enough to resist this. Something will sting. I’m so happy at the moment, and there’s no way to go but down. I guess I’m afraid that happiness will be snatched away from me again. Maybe deep down, I’m actually afraid to be happy for this reason.

Already, I can feel my tears starting…

I can feel it, the time will come when my strength will be tested. And I don’t know how I will fare. I will need help. I’ll probably take the Seroquel. But it is not a healthy habit. I do not wish to depend on it. I truly want to heal myself.

As Dr. Los Baños said, “healer, heal thyself.”

You Oughtta Know August 11, 2008

Hindi kita kaya ipagpalit kahit kanino man.

Hindi kita kaya iwanan.

Hindi kita kaya lokohin.

Hindi kita kayang hindi mahalin.

The Road to Recovery August 9, 2008

I walk in through the door, feeling like the biggest loser on Earth.

I don’t know why I felt like this. Getting drunk does not take away the anguish that the whispering demons have left behind, Oh, yes, they do whisper. At night, when the wind blows cold and the last straws of sanity shiver to a pulp. They whisper the oddest things and the meanest things and the scariest lies designed just so that you would believe.

But I’m trying so hard to ignore them. I’m doing my best to forget. I’m willing myself not to recall them, and to take it all in stride. I’m taking Invega at night to help me sleep, and Abilify and Topamax in the morning.

I’m binging on hope, this time around.

Vindicated August 4, 2008

I am flawed, but I am cleaning up so well. I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself.

Here I am and I come with all these fucked up things in my head.

But I say to them: No more.

I had a sort of epiphany yesterday.

Basically it’s this: I want to keep you.

And that’s pretty complicated. Keeping you means not being fucked up and being well and being sane. And that’s what I’ll be. See, that’s not what I’ll TRY to be. That’s what I WILL be.

I promise, as long as I have the strength left in me, that I will fight away these demons. I love you and I’ll do everything I can to love myself because I love you.

It’s that simple and that hard to do.

Oh, hope fills me like cathedral windows on a bright Sunday morning.