I’m at the point again wherein my mood is way down and the reason is unknown to me. I have my suspicions, but it’s hard to properly discern the culprits as my emotions and thoughts are limited by the medications I’m on. That is, assuming, that the medications are the ones that prevents me from feeling. One reason could be is that I’m, once again, in denial.
There is a wall between me and my emotions once again. Be it denial or the medications, I can’t seem to figure out what I’m feeling, aside from being melancholic.
Continue reading “Walking Towards Uncertainty”
I’d like to say that’s it’s been a long time coming, but I do still feel the pull of it – music. Making music. Writing my own music. Thing is, thought, I can objectively say that I was never really good at it compared to the two other passions I have (writing and photography.) It’s been a long time coming, but it’s time to finally give up on the dream of being a musician.
I’ve lived as a musician enough in previous years. I wasn’t playing festivals or secret shows, nor was I playing huge stages and crowds of upwards of a hundred, but I’ve lived that dream enough. To want more would be selfish, and would make me lose focus on what I aim to do in the present.
This is a farewell to a life once lived to the fullest.
I’ve been finding myself retracing my steps from the year prior. It’s an exact step by step retracing of what I did this time last year. I was already in rehab exactly a year ago, fresh out of The Medical City’s Psych Ward. I’ve been, involuntary, mind you, reliving my days there.
As I’ve probably stated here once, I’ve been avoiding nostalgia and the general reminiscing of days gone by. I have a tendency to dwell on what was so I’ve started a personal campaign of being in the moment, to focus on what is.
I am failing that campaign.
Continue reading “Trapped Between What Was And What Could Be”
I’ve been beholden to my phone for years now. I find myself most times absent-mindedly holding my phone for no reason at all aside from waiting for that next social media fix.
I’d be lying in bed, phone in hand, aimlessly scrolling through trivialities and nonsense and posts that I’d already seen multiple times. I distract myself. That is the objective.
I distract myself, oftentimes unconsciously, from the thoughts in my head. These are the same thoughts that I need to face head on. These are the thoughts that must be given my full attention at all times.
Continue reading “Logical Emotions”
During my psychologist appointment last week, we delved into my unconscious. I told him of a recurring dream I have:
There’s this vast house that I’ve practically memorized already. There’s a wing on the upper floor that fills me with fright. In the dream, every single time I get closer to that wing, I get this sense of fear and dread.
It’s the kind of fear that I get from watching horror movies. Like there’s something evil in that wing.
Continue reading “Active Imagination”
Battle Notes – February 14, 2017
As I’m typing this, the time is 9:09pm. Less than three hours until midnight. Less than three hours until I survive another Valentine’s Day.
But first, I have to apologize for the four month absence. Life has been, well…life. So many things have happened. Can’t even list them all down at this point. Need to focus on what I need to write.
This year’s Valentine’s is rougher than last year’s, no doubt. I was losing my shit again earlier. My breathing was compromised. Chest heavy. Felt like I was trapped in a prison I created for myself. But I know it’s my brain’s doing. It’s the depression’s doing. It’s that thing inside my head that was fucking with me again.
Continue reading “Letting Go Of Ghosts”
I wrote the following last night. Had an anxiety attack as I was writing it.
My honeymoon period with my anti-depressants is over. It’s been over for about a month now, if I’m not mistaken. I’m afraid. Everything’s real now. That constant rise of my emotional momentum has begun to normalize. Up and down. Rise and fall.
On those first months with Escitalopram, I felt so much lighter. My head was on the clouds. On a high. Happiness. Medicated happiness. I felt an optimism that I’ve never felt before. Positivity without the danger of slipping back into the darkness.
Continue reading “The Aftermath of 3/12/2016’s Battle”
February 14, 2016
I don’t even know where to begin. Where to start. It’s been twenty seven years. That’s a grown adult already. Twenty seven years. Twenty seven long years of loss. Of tragedy. Of a pain that I don’t think will ever go away. How can it go away? How do you even move on from the way you left us? Especially now that it’s all coming into light that I am just like you. That your legacy of sadness and madness has passed on to me.
How can I move past the way you died – taking your own life – when I myself have more than flirted with doing the same thing since I can remember? There’s too much we have in common, as they say. We share the same disposition. But do we share the same fate? No. Of course not.
Continue reading “A Letter to My Mother”
That’s how it starts, right? You stare at a blank white wall stained with age and cracks and ants marching on a line into an invisible hole. You grab your imaginary marker and start writing your lists and dreams. You paint a picture of what your life could be, of what your life must be. And then you realize that you’re still decades away from that life. You realize that all those lists and dreams are next to impossible. Next to impossible. Improbable. But given the right encouragement and the right amount of drive, it’s achievable.
And then it creeps up on you. That realization that you’re actually moving forward from a life that became your home. That you’re letting go of the darkness that was a part of you. You’re shedding a life that, despite the insanity it brought, you made sense of. Their insanity became your sanity. Their tempest became your serenity.
And then in one Thursday afternoon, everything changed.
Continue reading “Note To Self: Don’t Die”
When I was in my early twenties, there was a TV show that was instrumental in defining being. It shaped every single aspect of my life. From my taste in music to the way I write, One Tree Hill was the prime influence in all of it. And I didn’t really pay any mind to it when it came out.
I thought it was about basketball. I’m far from being a sports fan, but I watched an episode from the show’s second season on a local TV channel and I immediately got hooked. It was about more than basketball. It was more than a teen series. It was about growing up. It was about loss. It was about love. It was about overcoming the odds. It was about music. It was about life.
Continue reading “I Don’t Want To Be Anything Other Than Me”