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. 

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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