Depression: The Ghost In My Closet

People gets generally sad once in a while and that’s okay but some, just like me, dwells within it longer than most people and that is where it gets tricky.

By the time that this blog post has been published it will be two years after I have written it. One of my friends have talked about their Anxiety experience and I was inspired to talk about what I have been keeping away from everybody these past few years.

Yes, I am dealing with my depression but the whole thing just really feels like you are intently dealing with your own self. Although I am not professionally diagnosed, it is there. You just know. Because although you are smiling outside, inside you is a whole different story.

If I try to trace it back it goes way back when High School sucked which persisted all throughout my University days and heightened back in 2013 when my life turned a whole 180. I became nobody. It was the worse. What happened when I was in High School is probably a mix of teenage angst, puberty hormones gone really bad and the whole academic-extra curricular load that made me want to just vanish. I will have to admit that I was an achiever way back but then you also have to know that not all High School teachers are made equal and they favor one student more than others sometimes and all the things happened and my extracurricular merits suffered. I lost some of my friends but I eventually regained them, I actually managed to graduate with honors but with the amount of expectation on my shoulders at that time, I eventually starting hating my self for not achieving my target goal. And that’s the down side of an over achiever. I got slumped over numbers and grades, thinking that I was disappointing my family when I was just only pressuring my own self.

Then university happened. I have to admit that Uni is a way better experience but by that time my trust issue with other people just grew; I just automatically withdraw myself and just kept a few close ones. I am not a sociophobe but I am not a social butterfly either. The pressure during that time did not even come sully from school, half of it was from the people I am living with. I have to live at my grandmother’s house when I am attending university. It was still an hour away from school but since my aunts sends me to school and since I am a girl and my dad thing that it is ‘safer’, I just went on and lived in with my grandmother. Although no one wants to admit it, the house is a total chaos. My grandmother is not the only occupant of the house. She was staying there with my uncle’s family and with my other aunt and they have 2 additional people for house-help. And as an over-achiever who had lived in a house that is in silence most weeknights because everyone is studying, my grandmother’s house is an instant nightmare! The TV is always on in full volume, my cousins are always playing and shouting all over the house, my aunt is always talking on the phone with her friends (not to mention that she parties during weekends and she invites people and they drink at the house too) and they almost always scolds their household helpers whom always ends up leaving anyway. The house is an utter chaos! Everyone is in conflict with each other and I just can’t stand it! Since I was in a major city, the traffic is so terrible that even if I wake up very early, I always end up late anyway. You just can’t help it. And with that, my grades just crumbled and I just settled with passing every single subject with the guilt and knowledge that I could have done better. There are ways to avoid the noise, the chaos and the shit and believe me, I have done all of those too. I studied and made homework in the library even in the train! In any public transportation really! But you can only do enough with the stress, the traffic, the distance and the amount of time in a day that we all have. So really, it is actually already beyond my human power but yeah, I just blamed my self yet again.

And with failing grades comes the epic realization and enlightenment that maybe, just maybe you are meant to do something else. After that plunge into failure on my program it did occurred to me that Yes, I want to do something else. I actually want to write. Just write. I want to study writing. I think that is what I am called for. But then as I have said earlier, my aunts are the ones who were sending me to school and yes, that stereotypical stigma comes to light: “You will earn nothing from writing!”. I never had the chance to voice that out to any of my aunts really but the answer is really obvious. No, they will not allow me to. I need to finish my current program at that time and maybe after it they will let me do another undergrad program. Or so I thought?

Then came “The Great Plunge of 2013”. I was a year out of school with diploma and board license at hand but I am still looking for a job. I did landed one initially though, in fact I was the first one to say Yes to an employer from my blockmates in college but after a day, I backed out. I was initially promised in a department but was moved twice in two totally different positions in a day, trust issues kicked in and I left the job. Thank God I still have not signed anything then. Before “The Great Plunge” happened I was actually waiting for an interview result that took half of the year to be concluded but then on that same day when my dad had an heart attack, a letter was received saying that  I was not accepted. That was half of my year worth of nothing with my father’s life in danger.

It was devastating.

At that time, my failed job attempt did not matter at all for me. My father was at utmost priority. He was in the ICU and me, my mom and siblings are totally clueless on what is going to happen with the whole ordeal. My dad was already vomiting blood due to his clot-dissolving medication, he has a blocked artery.  My life is frozen and nothing could make it turn again.

At first, it started as a whole family effort. My aunts were in full support, they even told us to go seek help at this hospital which specializes in heart conditions saying that they will support us financially. My dad was treated and was recovering really well. Then the hospital bill happened and they asked us to seek assistance at a local charity. My dad though totally opposed the idea. His point was if we collect the money that my aunts were willing to chip in and seek some financial assistance from the company where he works, it will eventually be enough to pay all the bills and just let the charity institution help other more needy people than us who can eventually pay the whole thing by ourselves. And little did we know, that’s where the problem lies.

My aunts were just willing to pay the remaining price after we seek financial aide form that charity institution. And when I told them where my father stands in the whole thing. They went nuts. Telling us that we are more needy because we still also need some form of help because we are seeking their assistance too. I have to admit, we do not have that money that is why we are seeking their help but they have promised my dad that they will take care of the things if he will just went through with the plan of sending him to that hospital.

At the end of the day, I was blamed.

I was blamed because although they told me to go stealth and just proceed to the whole charity plan, I still went on and tell my dad where I was going the whole time I was processing the the paper works. I was blamed because I told them that we are eligible for an ‘indigent certificate’ (a requirement for the charity) because my dad has a proper job and thus, we do not really belong to the ‘marginalized’ and most of all, I was blamed because I do not have a job and because of my unemployment I cannot chip in anything.

I accept the fact that the last part was really my fault but at the end of it all, I just accepted all the blame that they threw at me. I just accepted all the guilt just like that. At that time, I felt my whole world shook, crack then I felt numb and just let my whole world break.  The abandonment and resent all set in. I was crying inside and outside. My whole being was just crushed. And no one really knows that.

We eventually survived the bills. My grandmother and the company that my father works at took all the responsibility for the hospital bills. They paid it whole. My grandmother’s savings was maxed out and now, we have a debt with my father’s company. It’s a lot to take in but I am still thankful with an eternal unending gratitude.

My dad, with lots of help form God and the people around us, recovered fully. But it was not an easy process. The first months were difficult due to his anxiety of having to go through the whole disease again because of which, he often skips office and when I say often I mean A LOT. And since we still have mouths to feed and bills to pay, money comes short most times and the urgency for me to find a proper job increased  a lot too. But since I am on a default numb mode ever since the whole disastrous hospital bills happened I just went blank. I was a mess. I do not know where to start. It was just blank. It’s blank.

I have this internal turmoil within me that even though I want to do something, I just can’t. Then my aunts went ballistic again because of my apparent indifference. I got scolded through the phone twice. It included words that my parents never pertained to me, they were degrading and insulting. Even though I know they only used those to wake me up from my apparent non-reacting state, it did things to me that will forever mark me as something I have never thought I would become.

As of this writing, I am trying on being more productive. Before all the shit happened back in 2013, I can manage my blogs really well. I can write a couple of articles squeezing reviews and poems in between but after all the shit, I was just reduced into someone nobody wants to become.

I morphed into an endless void of numbness and frustration all at once and all the the things that frustrates me just surfaced. Like how I wanted to just be a writer and not be that thing that everybody was shoving into me. I just really want to run away from everything. I wanted to leave everyone and I wanted everyone to leave me alone.

I wanted to run away from my self. If I can’t at least I wan to outrun it for a while. I just do not want to be me anymore. I always end up feeling tired. Even in dreams it bugs me. You think that sleep is your escape from everything but it is not. I never thought that waking up at night just to cry is a real thing. I even wake up sometimes with tears on my cheek and feeling extremely sad.

I was not an irritable person once but I am now, sometimes. Most times, it just automatically clicks that I am sad. I wake up sad and it will last weeks before I can truly smile again. The worse times are those times when I am trying to escape from it and I just smile but deep within I am immensely sad.

And since I am generally great in planning and stuff, I think the most extreme one was  that one time that I thought of planning to end my life. I got this entire plan on how to push my own escape button. I came as far as googling where to find equipments like Helium gas and how to do knots. At that time thankfully, Helium is not readily available in a local store and our ceilings cannot hold proper knots. I already started practicing those knots in smaller versions though…

I was going for the lesser painful and quick escapes obviously.

Honestly, I do not know if you can take away anything from my confession that Yes, I am going through depression. I am not sure that not really having a professional diagnose it formally helps in dealing with it. I, personally is dealing with it by my self and everyday is a battle won. Although there mornings were you really wake up sad, I take time to appreciate and thank the heavens that I am breathing still. I still don’t have a clue on the regular sleepiness that comes with the escape but I just assure my self that I will get on that in the future.

And although I am still in a limbo of unemployment, because after landing a job a couple of months ago the company that I am in right now has not deployed me still and I am still waiting a word from them, I just simply take away my mind from it and think of creative solutions by doing what I love more – writing.

Personally, although I have a lot of knowledge with medicine and stuff, I do not really recommend those. Although it could ‘fix’ you, you still need work on that hormone balance by yourself. You will end up dependent if you get into those. If you can keep a pet, have a pet. Dogs and cats are great diversion for me. And most especially find someone to talk to. That helps  A LOT!

Another thing; have a mantra that you can repeat again and again when you feel that you are already on the verge of the end. For me because I know that I am not really okay I go for “Everything will be better because I believe and because I believe, Everything will be better” and most times I say it like a prayer and end it with a shout of “AMEN~!”

And when every thing else fails remember to pack lots of HOPE within you.

Because although none of us is sure on the things that might happen tomorrow. Miracles happen and what do you know, things might just got lighter and lighter eventually. Right?


That’s it.

I hope I made things clear and I have helped someone out there somehow.

If you are still in doubt though…
here, here’s a *virtual hug* coming through~!


September 29th 2016 [The First Poem]

I hope that as you mourn you realize
that it is not by death we all die
but it is by this death we all need to wake up

We cannot go on like this
hiding because some tongue stabbed us
like some hideous wit we crumble

We cannot live like this
Breathing as if we do not have any rights
Walking like he owns our lives

he does not need to call the shots
but he did
and he will

Remember, this country is not his
Yes, it is yours
and it is mine

if he truly cares and loves this motherland
he will think before he speak
think of you and me before he points that blunt end of a gun

Remind him that you are still someone
That this someone needs to live
and living is not an option he has a say about

Logic needs not to be twisted
and literal will still be literal regardless of interpretation
That you are as Filipino as he is!

Today, someone died loving this country more than anyone
and today you should love this country more than anyone
Love this country more than anyone


You do not need to cry
Or plead to someone before you die
Because it is not counting the dying we must live

But counting the living
and the intact
and the hope we must continue to strive

I hope we still see the sun
That the sun will not set
That the stars will still shine

And the blue will bleed more than the red
and the white will shower us all with pride and humility
and the red will stay in our hearts but not shatter on the streets

We need to wake up from this nightmare people
For our own good
and the good of our own neighbors

Yes somehow you have loss
Someone’s wit
Someone’s mind and heart of gold

But I hope that as you mourn you realize
that it is not by death we all die
but it is by this death we all need to wake up

Frustrations & Raindrops

Frustrations and raindrops didn’t pour on your birthday
In fact,
it is a nice day
full blast and sunburnt

Frustrations and raindrops didn’t pour on your birthday
Trust me,
Clouds just rolled by calmly
in an ocean of blue, the lightest kind

Frustrations and raindrops didn’t pour on your birthday

Come see it,
It was warm
it hugs you and cuddles you joyously

Frustrations and raindrops didn’t pour on your birthday

Feel it,
a very calm breeze
freedom and bliss

Frustrations and raindrops didn’t pour on your birthday

I just forgot it
It is such a nice day indeed

I just skipped, twirled and  laughed the whole day




It was the pavements we used to walk on;
the single freaking reason why we try to bury ourselves into piles upon piles and hundreds, among thousands, of reasons why we need to go on. We always try to punch ourselves in the gut just to feel the pain for us not to look back and walk back. We always try to find excuses to be somebody else. In the end, it does not even matter if we like ourselves or not because perception, and judgment, is not in our hands. It is in the hands of someone else.

A/N: The original unedited version of the piece above appeared on my personal instagram on
April 2015

Fading Destiny

I often say

I want to see you face to face

Touch the tip of your finger once

Breathe the air that you take in

Because we knew it

Since the start,

We have that “spark”

We were soulmates

We are meant to meet

And see each other face to face


But then,

Destinies does not mean you are required to

It does not mean we have to

The tips of our fingers are not enough basis

And the sparks that we feel won’t make things light up

We are not miracles

I am not your miracle


But of course I am glad to have met you

Meeting you is like completing a reaction

Living a life that was once out of life, resurrected

But buffering it out is just fine
Thank you for walking in

Fluttering Gone

You are just always sitting there,
Sitting on the floor
Leaning against the wall
Staring at an almost empty dance floor

My first love always looked like that;

My first love always smells like sweat;
From running around
Falling off
But smiling again

My first love always gets to be reminded;
Of how annoying the days were
Of how naggy I can get
Of how immature I was

The suns were always shining with first love
Perspire & you will always smell life they say
Run and you will lose
But we intend to always run away anyway

I don’ t even know if we have started
We just always tend to get ended
Cruel & always drifting apart,

This is my first love