Forthnights

Depression

The problem of depression is something very close to my heart.

Having grown up with a mother suffering from depression, paranoid delusions, and schizophrenia, live never has been truly easy. When I was young, I blame and hated my father for leaving my mother. I hated the fact that he was somewhat a womanizer and a compulsive flirt. At the same time, I couldn’t accept that my mother wasn’t like other mothers. Somehow, I always knew that my own mother was ‘sick’ and that I could never have a regular mother like my other friends. As I grew older, I realized that my mother couldn’t help her own actions. She was in too deep into her depression, and it all spread out to become much worse, with delusions and schizophrenia eventually setting in.

Until today, I have to consciously refrain myself from asking her to stop twitching her face or biting her lips. In all honesty, its embarrassing when people look at her and see her twitching her face as if something is not quite right. Sometimes, just not wanting to bare with the embarrassment, I just prefer to not bring her out at all. Its so selfish of me. Her twitching and biting are all due to the side effects of the medicine, and it’s just not fair of me to ask her to take the medication and at the same time act like she’s not taking it.

I know through my own experience that depression is a serious issue. It has the potential of wrecking whatever good chance a person has of being truly happy in life. Personally, I feel that I had to grow up pretty quickly when all this things were happening to my family. How could my brother and afford to be immature about the matter when the very foundations of your life; your family starts to fall apart. You can’t, and just like many of others who are faced with difficulties in life, we are forced to rise up to the occasion and handle it in a way that is beyond what we ever expected ourselves capable of. But when you are force by circumstances to grow up quickly, it takes and invisible toll on you. For me, I always felt at some level that I was robbed of my innocence as a child. That I wasn’t given the chance to enjoy life the way it was supposed to be in the eyes of a 5 year old. To see my father cheating on my mother at such a young age, I pretty much knew what lust and temptation was about, though I never mentioned it. You just knew what it was although you didn’t understand entirely. To see my parents argue and fight, and my mother screaming at us to help when he hit her, it certainly takes away all remnants of innocence. I became aware of what violence, abuse, sex, lust, infidelity and insecurity was at a pretty young age. There are times when I myself wonder if I’m in a depression.

Some weeks just go by, and I feel horrible the entire time. As if something is not right. You don’t know what is it, only which it is there, and the frustration of not knowing what it is and what to do about it just makes it worst. Suddenly, I feel lonely for no apparent reason. It’s not like I am alone. On the contrary, the more the people around you, the lonelier you feel. I think many people share the same emotional turmoil. No one understands me. No one cares about what I feel. No one truly knows what I’m going through or how I feel, and nobody cares to know at all even if I did tell them. I know there are always a hundred and one souls out there just reaching out, trying to find a person to relate to; to let that bulging burden off their chest. I know that all of us, no matter how happy we may be, feel lonely sometimes. I know, because I am that way too.

So many times in my life, when things go wrong, I do what is expected of me. To act with maturity and reason. To put on a brave face and swallow whatever life had given you and say "i'm ok." Not only do you have to say YOU are ok, you have to show that you are strong enough, so that those around you remain strong and perservere. The one worse thing that actually breaking down emotionally is seeing your loved ones breaking down. More often than not, you stay strong, or at least appear strong for their sake and not for your own. I remember when we went down to see my mother in her almost lifeless state, dirty and unconsciouss. When we tried to bath her and dress her, for the first time in so many years, i saw my brother break down in tears. I could just feel the deep sense of sorrow in him. He asked me me to continue. I hugged him and told him i will manage it, as he tried to calm down. I was just about close to tears myself, but i dared not cry, for my sake and my brothers sake, one of us had to hang in there. At the moment, crying was a pleasure i couldnt afford. It wasnt untill weeks later, when the full reality of it had set in did i manage to cry it all out, alone in the room. Only after that did i manage to really put it into words and publish it in this blog. Those who have felt true sorrow will know and always be weary of trying to describe how it feels like or stereotype it. I can never imagine how it feels like to loose someone to death, i can never imagine how it feels like to grow up as an orphan, or how it feels like being raped, betrayed or abandoned. but i know that it would be foolish of me to say i know how it feels like. Through my own pains, i know that pain that runs deep can never be fully expressed in words. To try to said you know how it feels is naive and insensitive, and shows that you have no real grasp of human suffering.

but therein lies the problem. We hurt, and we dont know how to get it all out., When we talk to people, all we get is "I know how you feel."... But that doesnt help. We go about our lives, forcing ourselves to move on, and not dwell on the past. But deep wounds heal slowly, and always leaves a scar. On the ulterior, we look ok, and to a certain extent ,we even feel alright at times. But then, something is unresolved in our hearts and we are discontent for no particular reason. We put on masks of what people think of us, and we conform to what people expect of us. Once your grieving period is over, people expect you to return to normal, but after a while, you realise that there is no returning to normal. Things have changed. YOU have changed. And when we hide that change, to show everyone that we are 'back to normal', we hide that side of us that needs coming out the most. In the end, we have this outside self that we portray to everyone. The person we are all so used to; the person we all love and hate for. But inside, there is something else. I feel it alot sometimes, because there are secrets in my life that i guard so closely. So close i have never told any other person. There are times, when i am with a friend, and the words are just at the tip of my tounge, but they dont come out. Fear of rejection. Fear of judgement, fear of dissapointment, fear of an unsympathetic ear and worst; fear of an uncaring heart.

Though i have kept my secret for a long time, and i have moved on, the fact that i have never uttered a word of it, never confided anyone about itl its just unsettling. The irony of it all is; i am forced to behave and act like nothing is changed, that everything is fine, but in truth, everything changed for me and nothing was the same anymore; inside of me.

I look at my mother, and i wonder how she became how she is. Was it because she too never dealt with her past? Was it because she had some deep problem within of her that was never resolved? Was that the start of it? I know i would not want anyone to ever go through what i have gone through. Everyone is entitle to a friend, and everyone should be entitle to come clean about his worries and problems. To speak your worst fears and shames without the fear or guilt, and know that someone cares and you are accepted despite your flaws. If only we all listened more that we spoke, the world would be a much better place.

posted by Compulsive Blogger @ 11:56 pm Comments: 1