There is strength in knowing when to raise the white flag.
The past months were a part of the worst depressive episode I have experienced in my entire life. I can talk about the suicidal ideation, how I couldn't eat and have lost 25 lbs, the dissociation, the psychosis, many things. These are things the books tell you about, though.
What the books fail to mention is how you lose perspective, how you lose dignity, how you lose respect. I always thought I was a capable person--graduated high school with honors, org president, laden with many awards and proceeded to enter one of the country's finest universities on a full scholarship; later on landing a double degree. I went to conferences, I had orgs, I had internships. You can look at my CV and see all these things I had accomplished. Some even go, "Wow." I usually get, "Wow, you're so hardworking!"; "Wow, your parents are so lucky to have you!"; "Wow, how did you manage to do all that?"-- usually coming from people from a different background/university where being type A and achieving is not the norm. But even with a long history of achievement, when a bad episode hits, you get the, "Well, it's because you're just really lazy", and my favorite, "You're just making excuses." As if I wanted to turn into this. As if I like the feeling of falling from grace. Truth be told, it's difficult. The hardest part is when the people whom you thought knew you very well suddenly forget who you are--who you truly are and what you're capable of. It's hard to explain that, damn, you can't get your mind to work. You just can't. Inexplicably, you just can't. You can't even remember to eat. You can't even care for your pets. You can't even get out of bed. But no, for them, you're just not fighting. You just don't fight. Because they never saw all those times you went to class because you were scared of overcutting, even though you crying, puffy-eyed, and in clothes you haven't changed in days. Besides, why do you have to make it known to everyone, right? It's also hard knowing that you can do it; you've done it before; but now, suddenly, you just can't. I finished 5 books in DS101 apart from the weekly readings/quizzes. Every week, we needed to turn in a research paper for PSY105. We had 3 mini-theses for PSY119. We had weekly A4 size/yellow paper "quizzes" for DS112. But for some reason, faced with the task of the thesis now, I just can't do it. Even with things cut out, even when I know I can do it, even when I've done things with more difficult analysis--the analysis needed for the pre-thesis class (and the fact that it was my first time doing it) was harder, and the statistical analysis I had to do for my Psych thesis was also more difficult, so why can't I do it? Considering I've dropped all of my commitments just to do this? I don't have internships; work is light af. When I was taking DS101, I was taking PSY 105, and I had 2 internships. But now, I have nothing. I have no orgs, no nothing. I hiked before and went to places to cope, to have a feeling that I achieved something (even just reaching a summit) but still, it made no difference. The difficult thing is, I felt that my worth as a person lay on what I can achieve, on how far I can go. That I am an Atenean, that I have 2 degrees, that I am competent, that I am talented, that I am special. But what happens when you reach the point where you're burnt out and you can no longer go on? (Account for tone in Filipino: this line is said in a derogatory tone.) People always ask me, what is bipolar and ADHD? Why do you need help for that? Why is it a disability? I say, it is a disability because there will be times when it affects the way you function, especially when there are changes in meds, when you have triggers, etc. It's not easy. I know myself and I know that I can achieve much, much more if it weren't for this disability and how it affects my ability to function sometimes. It's difficult to explain, especially to people who think that just because it's not obvious, it's not real, and it's all in your head, and you are just actively choosing not to do things. You're actively choosing to be lazy. You're actively choosing not to be thankful. You're actively choosing to cry. You're actively choosing to be miserable. And whatever you feel is not valid and everything is an excuse. Let me ask you a question, though--given the choice, would you choose to be miserable when you know you can just choose to be happy? Would you choose to be paranoid and think that all the people you love despise you when you know you can choose to feel secure in their love for you? Would you choose to think that you are worthless, that nobody loves you, that you will always be a failure, when you know, rationally, that these statements are all false? Because for me, if I were given the choice, I would have chosen to be happy, secure, and functional long, long ago. But that's the problem, when you have this sickness, those things are no longer a matter of choice. It's already there and I just try my best. What can I do, right? I go to check-ups, take expensive meds, go to therapy, go to the mountains, force myself to see friends, and arrange meetings with my study/life coach to fix my life, in the hopes that, at the very least, my episode would not be as bad as it would be otherwise. But sometimes, despite my efforts, it still strikes. What hurts sometimes is having the people who you thought knew you well not understand what you're going through. Like, damn, you worked with me, you've seen me work for years, and you still think that it's just that easy for me to give up? You were one of the people who tried to convince me to lessen my load, to drop my 2nd degree, but I said, I can still do it, I can still push, I'll see this through because I committed. I can still do it. Now that I'm saying that I'm gone, burnt out, I can't do it anymore, is when you don't understand my choice to retreat and regroup? Even when you know full well that no other episode in my entire life can even compare to the gravity of this one? I think I reached the point now where I don't want the measure of my worth as a person to be what degree/s I have and what is in my CV. Or whether I finish on time. Or whether my path is straightforward. Each time I break down, someone else would force me to take a break--the school guided by my doctor, mostly. Now, I'm taking the reigns by saying that I need to take a break, that I can't do it anymore. I think I no longer have to attempt suicide again (and actually maybe even succeed) or lose my mind just to know that I've reached my limit. I've been here before, and I know that, in the end, my health matters, because if I really can't make it, I will just fail and even be more miserable. I want to retreat with dignity. It's better to rest now and try again another time. I'd like to believe that while there is courage in going to battle, there is wisdom in knowing when to retreat and regroup. There's more to me than my degrees, or following the perfect timeline. I have strength in ways my CV cannot describe.
**Whew haven’t posted in years!! Need to publish this somewhere because my doctor was like, “This is nice. Publish it.” Originally written in Taglish; mostly Tagalog. Of course it hits harder in my native tongue. Lemme know if you want a copy of that.
