On Home

Home is where ever wifi connected automatically.

After living in Bandung for almost 10 years, I finally moved out and decided to really restart my life in Berlin. The reason why I have been absent from my blog-writing was because so many things had to be prepared before my departure. It was frustrating, yet so exciting. No complaints at all, my first few weeks here was amazing.

But Berlin is not Berlin, if one's not struggling to find a place to stay.

Finding a place is a challenging thing, but finding a roommate is another whole new level.

After collecting many wifi passwords and be able to connect automatically, I still haven't find a place called home. A place where I always feel not only comfortable, but also safe. I'm currently living in an overpriced small room in an area called Wedding. With some touch of secondhand IKEA furnitures, this tiny space has become my lair for the last few months. Knowing how hard it is to find a flat in Berlin, I thought, it'd be better if I stay here a bit longer while I slowly trying to find my own place.

But as usual, the universe has it's own plan.

First bad sign which I didn't notice when I did room-viewing before I moved here is a big mural of Marx, Stalin, Lenin, Mao and few other people who I don't know on my kitchen. Yes, I didn't notice, and it was stupid. Second: he has baseball bat with hammer and sickle logo on it. And third: his anger management.

I found out that my flatmate has anger management issue, after he abused his (now ex-)girl friend while I was home. With my limited skill of German, I tried to listen what was actually happening next door. But what happened just brought back my trauma towards my ex. It was crazy, how what had happened almost 3-5years ago, just coming back to me instantly. And in result, I'm terrified with my flatmate and his aggressive attitude. There was one time, I even have no courage to go back to my own room, just because I don't wanna meet him. Crying all day, outside in the park or somewhere while trying to gather my courage to come back home and acting like there was nothing happened.

--I wrote those few paragraphs for quite a while. And as time goes by while I wrote my short story, I finally got a new place. A place with 50 y.o. guy and 40 y. o. lady and 27 y.o. me. We sat together as if there's no age gap between all of us. It was great.

I hope this could me my home soon enough.

On Acceptance

Does time really heal? Or we just get used to it? 

Last year, on my 26th birthday, I decided to took off my headscarf. A piece of cloth that has been covering my hair for more than 10 years. A piece of cloth which was supposed to be a statement of my faith to Islam.

My depression brought me down so deep, I got sick many times before I finally decided to be open about my decision. 

It was emotional and far from easy. 

The after was even worse. 

Some of my family members preferred not to meet me than seeing me without my headscarf. They were even willing to just cancel the family plan if I ever showed up without my headscarf. Hoping they would be more welcoming, I tried to follow their game. But their rejection towards my choice alienated me and didn’t help both sides. It just made my depression even worse. 

I decided to make space as far as I could from them.

I heard many times that we can not rely ourselves to other. But for me, my family’s acceptance becomes a glimpse of my hope to continue to live. I had countless suicidal thoughts because I believed that my family will never accept me as who I am. 

Maybe it sounds stupid, but knowing that they were stop taking pictures with me (without my headscarf) became one of my stress stimulant. It leads to my evil thoughts of disapproval, and estrange. Evil thoughts that they are ashamed of not successfully raising a religious daughter. Evil thoughts that my family are ashamed of having me as their member. 

But after a year, thanks to my big sister’s encouragement to be open to my family. My family’s effort to be on my shoes leads to improvement on fundamental things I need. 

Their acceptance. 

It started with small steps. The first one was having my lil sister asked me to join her for a selfie. And then I went for my mom birthday, and having my in-laws still talked to me. Next was my in-laws wanted to take family picture together. Then having my picture posted online. All without headscarf. 

I don’t know if they are really accept me or they just get used to it. But at least, for now I could be less worried about this. 

On Being Not Good Enough

“Yes, sex is cool. But have you ever sat in darkness, wondering why you’re not good enough?”

With great trepidation is how I live my days. I feel anxious pretty much about everything. And having self-doubt attached makes it even worse. 

Just yesterday, my scholarship application got rejected. Again. To be honest, this is actually my scenario. I wait the committee’s E-mail with the worst-case scenario running in my mind. I was doubting myself for getting accepted from the very first time. But even tho I was prepared with their answer on my application, I still can not hold myself back to cry for hours. 

One thing leads to another. The rejection causes domino effect. 

After being told by the ex-boss in the past that depressed people are not able to work, this rejection is not only effecting my visa planning, but somehow also affirming my self-doubt on being capable to work on something. I really can not trust myself if I could support myself. More than that, it’s even harder to imagine myself continuing my education, and worst now I doubt myself if I could put on a good show or even the show itself for my solo exhibition next month. 

If I really wanted to go to school again, I need to prepare hard cash for my visa which the amount is not small at all. It’s not that I didn’t save up as back up plan if I got rejected. But my back up plans used to help my parents back then. And I can not forcing them to magically come to me next week with the exact sum of money. I run some scenarios in my mind at this moment. But it just gets on my nerve and makes me more freak out. All that’s left now is just my head thinking that I can not make all of this thing happen cause I am not good enough at the first place. 

On Economic Cost.

After almost ten years living on my own, I’m back to my parent’s house. It’s been almost 6 months after I got resign-fired and decided to leave Bandung and it’s toxicity. 

Having someone constantly worrying about me is frustrating. And admitting the condition that I become a jobless stay at home daughter has been torturing me as well. Being dependent to my family kills me slowly but surely. It kills the last drops of my confidence. And the remaining faith on myself unwittingly fades too quick.

At this intersection of my life, I’ve got not many choices left.

I did all of my medication without insurance just like many of other Indonesians. This is why, I am so aware that mental health can be, or (actually) it really is, that expensive. And this is what I really don’t want to admit at this moment. The economic cost of having mental health issue. 

The cost which I can not afford by living like this. 

Every time I ran out of my meds, I panic myself cause that means I have to scrape out my savings or the worst… ask my parents to buy it for me. I know that money isn’t everything, but imagining myself without those meds freaks me out worse. Cause even without all those voices, I spent many of my nights thinking whether to just kill myself so that I won’t be a burden to my family anymore. 

Well, no one will tell that I am a burden. But I just can’t get it out of my head either. 

On Discipline

There is no i in discipline. There are 3 of em. 

At least that’s what I read on a communist Facebook meme page. 

After I decided to open up to my family about my condition, sooner than I imagined, they become the other two of my i-s.

They will remind me every single day to take my meds, day and night. They limit our night outs cause they know I should sleep early so that I don’t get cranky and sensitive in the morning.

As far as I notice, they really make effort to be on my shoe. Sometimes, they make fun of it, which is actually cool for most of the time. Cause it makes me feel normal. They really treated it as if it’s an allergy just like how I wrote before. They probably also take notes on my stimulants. During my ups and downs, they will ask me what happened or what am I thinking. Even though most of the time I’m not willing to share the details, they will ask me one simple question, ‘Is someone trying to whisper you bad things?’ 

They really are helping me to become more discipline during medication process. 

My closest surroundings still treated me just like it used to. Apart from my suicidal thoughts which come up too often when I train-commuting, they still allow me to go here and there on my own. But bring my ID anywhere I go become a thing for my family at this moment. Which I found ironically funny cause that means they are pretty aware anything could happen to me, not only accident but also self-harm. 

Despite the fact that my family still trying to connect my illness to some spiritual thingy (read back the very first post), I really can’t complain on how they deal with my illness on daily basis. I start become dependent on them. 

Ps. Knowing that are not that many friends and family support their closest one’s condition, I am fully aware that this post could bring many downs to anyone who have the same problem. We know that it won’t be easy to fight on our own. And I’m so sorry about that. But if you need help, or need friend to talk, please feel free to reach me. Drop your e-mail address on the comment, and I will reach you back. 

On Tracking the Ups.

Nope, not that UPS delivery service company eventhough you can track them as well. 

Again, mood stabiliser doesn’t work like cocaine. It helps you with the brain, but still yourself is the one who gives the consent to feel. Remembering the downs is definitely easier then remembering the ups. Bad memories stay longer. But usually what brings you down, lift you up. 

Mine is working or anything related to work. Yes. I’m not just a lazy-ass procrastinator, I’m also a workaholic. I dunno if its true, but my best friend said, she could see this sparks in my eyes whenever I get new interesting job. I kinda believe in her cause I once noticed this thing really happened and I really felt how my mood change. 

It was Saturday evening. A night out. We (me and my friend just called her Monti) went out for drinks and karaoke at local cafe. Suddenly. Depression kicked in. Crippling anxiety joined. Tears went down together with early 2000s Emo playlist. Fk. Bad mood. Still the same night. escaping the cafe crowd. BOOM! Red Grape mixed with wheat. Back to the cafe for toilet. Someone called me and heeeey! Dear, you! Where are you all this time? Stop your job as cultural whore already? Well, we got some news for you! We hope you could join us as spokesperson. 

TA TA TAAA! 

Still the same night. Mood became too good. Manic. Club Hopping. Dance like a moron. Good night. 

Until now, they never contact me, and neither do I. But let’s just remember this to show that, at least there’s something that could make me feel happier. 

On Discussing Feeling.

What’s a panic attack? One of mine is someone invading my brain, trying to rearrange my state of mind. I have this problem almost with everyone. Even I complained my shrink when I think she starts disrupting what’s in my head.

The most sensitive topic, of course.. feelings. Not only romantic feeling, but in general such as confusion, anger, sadness, surprisingly.. even happiness. And I realised this few days ago when I chat with a guy I knew from a dating app. 

Yes, I’m on the dangerous game called online dating. 

After my shutdown caused by the broken heart I wrote on my previous post. My friend suggested me to reinstall OKCupid in mission to find distractions, and hopefully forget my romantic feeling I have towards my really good friend. I thought I was done with online dating. The routines of swiping, reading profiles, introductions, and all the same shits different people tires me. But, I still gave it a go and see how it works this time. 

Long story short, I stumbled upon with this guy. A photographer. He greeted me with Bahasa Indonesia, good simple basic moves. As the first person greeted me in Bahasa Indonesia, I swiped right on him. Pretty interesting person, and and a really affectionate one. Probably the most affectionate guy I’ve ever encounter. I don’t know if he really interested in me or just because he’s an Italian. (Hey dude, if you read this post, I’m so sorry. Even if you said you really like me, I don’t know what you really have in mind so I still have this bad stereotyping in my mind).

But I’m not here to talk about him. So let’s jump to few days ago.

After intense chats and video calls, I started to feel terrified. It feels like someone learn about me too fast and skilfully putting himself to my relationship-zone. I’m glad that someone has been acting so lovely to me, but it doesn’t feel right. At all. All of these zones of friends, colleagues, partner, friends, or family are organised as their own parts of my state of mind. So, when someone accidentally (in my mind) trying to sneak in themselves to one of it, especially, positioning themselves as a partner, I panic myself, terribly.  

I don’t have the guts to really told him to slow down. I mean, I told him that, but still in ‘hehe-hehe-lol’ mode. Not as straightforward as all these European girls.

I automatically told him I’m still on my broken heart state. He asked me if I’m trying to pushing him away. What he said brought my confusing indecisive behaviour. And this just gave me major panic attack for the last few days. In my head, I know that my mind won’t be with him sooner and that’s why I told him about it. But maybe, just maybe, he’s right and I might did that to subconsciously push him away.

I’m glad someone acts so affectionately cause it’s been a while. But admitting this just terrifies me. 

Apart from my broken heart, this terrifying moments make me think.. that I probably not ready to have anyone on my relationship-zone at this moment. 

Should I really take a break from all kinds of dating?

On Being Technical.

Depression is like your allergy towards 40 kinds of food. It won’t be lifted up fully. But it’s controllable. And through this post, I want to share on how I am being technical on controlling my depression :

Do not self-diagnose yourself. 

This is important. A friend of mine who happened to be a psychologist told me, that self-diagnose could lead to self-labelling. What he meant is once we thought that we are fit in to ones category, we will try to fulfil ourselves there. And we make-believe ourselves that we have all of our symptoms (when we are actually not). 

Ask for help.

Just like the other basic thing, this is the most important part of our-trying-to-be-better journey. It’s not gonna be easy to tell others, but if you feel like it, talk first to your closest ones. It could be your anyone you trust enough. If you think it doesn’t help, ask for professional help. Or just go straight to a pro. Talk to them. 

Finding the best for yourself. 

It doesn’t have to be a psychiatrist like I do, if you don’t feel like it, you can always try or seek from different help, such as psychologist, or go to yoga class, meditation class and many other possibilities. I’m open to anything that suits you best. 

The best here is not the most expensive, or the most famous one. But finding the one who you can talk to in regular basis and trust wholeheartedly. I went for different doctors before I meet this one. 

Being discipline on the therapy and taking the meds. 

Okay, since I go to psychiatrist, I will write what I’ve been doing the whole time with her. 

I see her every 2 weeks, and discuss many things I experienced during the timeframe. I take what have been prescribed for me regularly. And as a company to my meds, I also write journal (or also blog like this) to keep track the symptoms and as part of the psychotherapy. 

Follow the stream. Or not. 

It is not a guarantee that you will be get better in a week or two. It could take months, or even years. It depends and you don’t have to force yourself to get better anytime soon. But, if you think you get better as soon as within weeks or months, embrace it. Don’t feel guilty about it. It’s not impossible, that all the helps you seek could sparks your breathing-only-life-phase further to really living.

And the hardest part.. Feeding it. 

Tomorrowland is one of my again-and-again-rewatch movie. In this movie, they told one of 21st century famous American native’s legend of two wolves. The lines goes like this: 

Casey Newton: "There are two wolves" … You told me this story my entire life, and now I'm telling you: There are two wolves and they are always fighting. One is darkness and despair, the other is light and hope. Which wolf wins?
Eddie Newton: C'mon, Casey.
Casey Newton: Okay, fine, don’t answer.
Eddie Newton: Whichever one you feed.
Casey Newton: Good. Eat.

This lines stuck in my head for a long time. And it was really hard to open myself and feed the light and hope while I thought darkness and despair were two of my good company the whole time. 

Mood stabiliser doesn’t work like cocaine. They are not there for you so you can do all the vague flowery activities with so much energy instantly. 

To feed it is hard because it is only us who can do it to ourselves. Only you know how to feed it, or which one you want to feed, or with what you want to feed it. But, let me give you a cheat. Do something regularly. You can do anything and it doesn’t have to be pompous. 

Mine is: to go out from my bedroom. I don’t always talk to anyone if I still don’t want to. But I still try to go out of my room everyday even if I have to cry 3 hours before I do it.

—ps. I know you won’t be cure instantly after reading/doing this.

On Lost Memories

A friend of a friend is a depression survivor. She shared her stories to their meditation class about her lack of memory during her severe depression time. By the time my friend told me her story, I finally understand why I don’t remember many of my days. 

I am lack of traces of my past. 

Other than that, I finally got the explanation on why my past relationships sucks big time. My memory mixed up. I was probably just hallucinating and created my scenarios the whole time. 

Did my relationships even real? 

Guilty feeling covers and strangle me as I write this post. Now I am imagining what was really happened the whole time during my bad days? All I remember was the feeling. The feeling of getting hurt, confusion, the headache as I cried nights and days. But I can’t remember what had happened. 

No wonder my friend told me I am inconsistent. 

It is not impossible that maybe.. just maybe, I am not trying to update my point of view. I probably made the statement and just forget it. I probably don’t even care what I said. Probably I was just spitted it out without even remember that somebody else is listening.

My memory follows how I feel.

It means, I can remember If I feel good. If I feel what’s happening around me is interesting. If I know everything is in order. If I can manage how I feel through out the day.  

I know I need to know what happened, but I am too afraid. I am too afraid to know the truth. I am too afraid if later, I end up just draining my energy and still not remember a thing. 

On Being Inconsistent

To be seen as inconsistent probably is one of my many fears. I always get emotional every time someone pointed this to my face. They actually didn’t blame me for it, but it disturbs my ego. My ego on being ideal.

But no one is ideal I believe. 

During my last session, we spent 1.5 hours just to talk about this inconsistency. One example for sure about this, is to share to public on life with mental health issue. Many times, I saw people share about this in super romantic way. They seem so comfortable to embrace it, and made many of my surroundings thought that having mental health issue is really cool. 

It is not. 

To be honest, having a blog dedicated for my wandering minds and my mental health is terrifying. My mind is filled with intrusive thoughts on how people would comment about my posts. How people will judge me on what I share. How they will laugh about it. Basically my head is filled with my make-believe evil thoughts. But I feel that I need to write it and share it properly somewhere.

So I decided to be inconsistent from my past view of not openly talk about this.

My shrink told me, it is okay to be inconsistent. Because from the very first place, even my brain is indecisive. And the mood swings too often. 

But again, I don’t want it to be a justification. 

So I discussed this further with a friend.

He told me, it is okay to be inconsistent. Because being one takes so much courage, and it means I’m brave enough to admit that I have different point of view from my past self, and I’m brave enough to spit it out.  

On Love

Who knows, sadness and anger make me feel so alive.

For someone who is afraid of commitment, I am probably one of those naive people who just love too much. With many B-rated failed love stories behind, I’m surprisingly still letting myself fall for someone so easily. Every time I fall for someone, I secretly laughed and told myself ‘again, being too easy to feed your inner teenager. Feeling lighter in a blink and sink for many years ahead’ 

There are no formula for feelings nor relationships. And every crushes have their own story and level of intimacy. 

I recently experienced the one of the most confusing crush. Where I can’t really describe how it really feels. I fell for a really good friend of mine. And I know that I will fall for him from the very first time we know each other. This feeling towards him felt like when someone decided to make a Sharknado movie. It’s a really bad idea, it’s good. 

He doesn’t want a commitment. I don’t know what’s really on his mind. He did tell me about this, but well I can’t read someone else’s mind. But he said he just decided not wanting it with anyone. At least for now (He did not said this part, but I’m sure anyone would open themselves by the time they know with whom who they want to be together or when the person is worthy enough the hassle). 

But, I’ve never been so open to someone, literally and figuratively. 

Ironically, not being in a commitment with him is a big commitment. A serious one. At least for me. I keep making myself not wanting a commitment in order to be able to go out with him. It’s been almost a year since I had this, and day by day, it’s just making me more confuse. And in this golden time of suicide, to take my own life seems always on top of my how to deal with it. To deal with the confusion, heart break, anger, the caring, the love, shortly: both good and bad vibes.

I need to keep myself sane, and I need to save my life. But to let go feels so wrong. I don’t believe myself to talk about this publicly. I’m shaking typing this. And to admit this.  I’ve never been this confuse. 

Breathing and living

Dolphin breath with consciousness. They decide whether they want to continue to breath or no. Almost all of my life, I hope I could be just like them, so whenever I feel like it, I will be able to stop continuing my day. 

I bet most of us have experienced the breathing-but-not-really-living time of our life. And for someone with depression, it goes on a long and frequent basis. But the ‘good’ thing is we breath unlike dolphin, so without no choice, we automatically continue to live. 

But what’s living anyway?

From many definitions of it, one really caught my eyes. 

It means to “have an exciting or fulfilling life”. This definition means to enjoy oneself, to enjoy life, to have fun, and to live life to the fullest. The simplest yet the most complicated concept. A verb to feel, but also a noun to live by. 

Having almost lose myself to the evil thoughts so many times, it makes me think on how should I appreciate my live. Every time I survived, I asked myself again, “what did you have in mind before you decided to take your live?”. From many of suicide attempts, I wished my life was easier, and someone would try to look for me, reassure me to stop or save me. 

Thanks to many weird things during the prime times, even though what I wished was never happened, I survive until now.  And this question that keeps repeating overtime leads me to a very naive thinking that ‘I’m pretty sure anyone with suicidal thoughts have the same wishing. At least deep down. Unspoken.’  

But what’s living anyway? 

If it also means to supply oneself with the means of subsistence, then I’d ask myself another question again and again, “how to make myself feel alive?” Until now, I haven’t find out about it yet. But from my last wish every time I try to take my life away, I want to be that someone, who kind and caring, and make my life feels a bit easier. 

Maybe, maybe it will make me feel more alive. 

Depressed people are not lazy, they are (probably) lack of motivation.

I guess all of us deserve a medal or trophy every time we successfully wake up and go out of bed. As written in my last post, wanting to wake up is another story I have to encounter each day. For me it’s not just the matter of following the urge to be a couch potato or procrastinating our tasks, but willing to wake up to live and to live my days. 

Not many realizes that to fight it takes so much courage and energy. And yes, it makes us seen as lazy normies. Yet, what is unseen is our drained energy to fight our brain and it’s evil fuelled thoughts. And what helps (a bit) to win it, is motivation. 

My morning routine is started with one 20 mg mood stabiliser. 

I can’t deny, it feels like having a game shark permanently plugged in on my playstation console. The your highness mood is getting better and it swings rarely and under good control. But to feel motivated is the whole different case. 

Apart from my activity as an artist, you could say that I’m currently a jobless. I have no income to support myself and I have to go back to my parents. And many of my personal relationships sink in to deep shit hole. In the morning, my energy already consumed to fight any thoughts about being a failure. It never really disappears, but it usually fades as the sun rise up. With not much left, I need to fight my anxiety. My anxiety to face people, to meet people. My anxious feeling towards being judged, or terrified on making mistakes, or simply to speak up and communicating with other. At random times, if I’m lucky enough, I will have extra battle with my suicidal thoughts. You can not fight it like fighting your influenza. The only thing that you can do is to wait for it to steps away a lil bit. Each day I forced myself to deal with it, and at the end of the day to be able to go through it feels like finishing a Mario kart race without mistakenly see other people’s screen.

At this moment, I’m pretty lucky to have my family supporting and helping to drag me out of the slump. They help me survive until this very second. Maybe I still cannot define what is actually motivation or being motivated. One thing for sure, it’s not motivational quote. But I guess motivation is something that worth to be waited, or be done. Something to look forward to each day. And mine at the moment is to discover whether I get through my day. breathing. 

Sleep is for the weak, sleeping for a week.

I have trouble sleeping since I was a kid. I rarely have deep good quality sleep. And this how I managed to do all of my procrastinating stuffs hoarding myself with useless informations through the internet. 

I don’t remember when I really enjoy my sleep without remembering my dreams. The dreams that I remember every detail when I wake up the next day.

The dreams are repeating. The oldest dreams are the one from 8 years old me. I still remember every single details, the colour, how scary it is, the heat coming to my body, the cold that makes myself cold still, loud sound I listened that made me cry and let myself wake up tired. 

After I went to therapy and take some meds, I finally can have some sleep. But still, no deep sleep. I still wake up at 3 AM, crying for unknown reason, feeling down, thanks to overthink over my life or just over some stupid things I’ve done 10-15years ago. And I just found out, (thanks to my friend who told me) when I’m asleep, I still sobbing, because of my nightmares. 

But at least I sleep more than 3 hours a day for the last 6 months. 

Trying to sleep itself is already a challenge, but do you know what’s even more harder? Wanting to wake up. 

6th sense and what not.

what doesn’t kill you, gives you content. 

that’s what the meme said. 

Throughout my life, I think, I (and we all do) encounter many things that failed to kill me (or us). And I guess I should started to write about things that didn’t success to kill me.

On this first post, I will tell you a background story about my blog and why I decided to write it down. 

—

Ghost? Future predicting? Eerie sounds? Mind reading? Exorcism? 

That’s what usually people associating 6th sense with. And mine was almost everything people associating with. I saw ghosts, heard eerie scary sounds during random times, having intrusive disturbing thoughts, experienced nightmares came true which I thought was my ability to predict future, and of course done many exorcisms in order to get myself better. I could write about this “paranormal” experiences for the whole season of Netflix US series, but I’m so sorry that things should escalate quickly on this first post.

Jump to March 2017, I was working in a cultural center in Bandung, Indonesia. One day my boss caught me for crying in the middle of big employee meeting. It wasn’t related to anything. We talked after the meeting, and with super innocent and trusting, I talked to her about how I’ve been severely depressed and tried to attempt many suicides. She gave me positive feedbacks and advised me to took days leave and that was what I did. 

Out of sudden, I received an E-mail which I thought was a support to my condition. It was stated that I should go to see a shrink in order to get working dispensation every time my depression kicked in.  The day after I received the E-mail, we had a meeting about it and they handed me an agreement letter which does not support my condition at all. The support that I saw as an enlightenment turned into a nightmare. There should be a letter that I’m under doctor care or I will be kicked out from the office. I, who didn’t want to go at the first place because I don’t want to take meds for my depression, dragged myself for a therapy for the sake of doctor’s statement letter and for the sake to keep my job safe.

Days after I handed my shrink’s statement letter felt like hell. My depression was not getting better and my boss keep on ‘suggesting’ me to resign because she said depressed people can not work. 

Oh fkity fk, long story short, they were still resign-forced me (cause firing was illegal lol), and I left my job at the end of the year. 

My depression did not getting better at all, but thanks to them I was at least seeing a doctor and got myself a professional help. My days filled with therapies and shrink-seeking simultaneously. Until I finally met my current doctor, who is a pretty cool one and got me detailed diagnosed. On our 2nd session she asked if I ever experienced all my 6th sense experiences. And when I told her I got 6th sense, she said, “Well I think it's actually your depression.” 

Oh fk. Now, I don’t know If I even had 6th sense back then. 

In order to track my “paranormal activities”, my doctor wants me to write a journal everyday. What am I thinking, who am I ‘meeting’ that day, what do I hear, what kind of intrusive thoughts I have, how I handled it, and how I feel at the end of the day. I bought a book for it, but it seems useless. I hardly write anything at all there. And that’s why I’m here all over again, trying to write my first blog post (for the probably 10th time. I had many neglected blogs lol) as an alternative of my daily journal.

Lets just hope, that I keep my blog alive as I try to stay alive at the same time. 

xx