I AM NOT AFRAID TO KEEP ON LIVING
I AM NOT AFRAID TO WALK THIS WORLD ALONE
...
I say ...
I see you lying next to me...
With words I thought I'd never speak...
Awake and unafraid...
Asleep or dead...
Cause I see you lying next to me with words I though I'd never speak
Awake and unafraid
Asleep or dead
I am not afraid to keep on living
I am not afraid to walk this alone
Nothing you can say can stop me going home
...
I've been suffering with my depression for quite some time now. I feel that it sometimes weird I get compliment occasionally how cheerful I am either from friends in the office or even friends when I'm hanging out. I sometimes feel alien to my own feelings.
I ponder suicide from time to time. The intense want to just rip my throat open. I may be suffering from what they say bipolar disorder. I don't know, I'm not even sure that there's a cure to such. I know a friend who's suffering with bipolar disorder, I see him took his meds. I don't think he's going better with his meds. I see the meds as how George E Atwood describe it to be, it could make the "Shadow" stronger. I believe that there's something wrong with me and I always try to dig in the source of my differences. Maybe it is just the unfortunate circumstances and condition growing up that has formed me who I am. A man with crippling void of belonging.
I acknowledge that everyone is born and raised differently, everyone is a snowflake of their own definition out of their unique experiences. I am just a mix of unfortunate and fortunate, but everybody else is.
Maybe I wish my parents understand me.
Maybe I wish my parents genuinely listen to me.
The void of belonging is calling to be fulfilled.
Sometimes I feel that life is so demanding. Just for me to live another day.
I don't want to make my friends sad.
I don't know what is wrong with me.
Someone I trust in one point of time when I opened to her told me "That it is my own baggage to carry." I am remained biased up to this day. Everyone seems so busy with their own stuff.
I am ashamed that I need help. I am ashamed. Why can't I be normal?
The occasional paradox that happened that sometimes I like who I am. I am very sentimental and my depression greatly elates my happiness. I want to make other people happy as much as they have made me happy. They are deserving of my kindness. And they appreciate it a lot when I do. They like my character. But have they really ever see my other character that wanted to kill itself?
It's the same sensation when I wrote The Repressed:
For a while I have been feeling as if I’m walking on a thin line in which I am not sure of what it is that even keeping me standing nor why am I not falling or even failing to consider that I am already falling.
Am I alone?
I want to cry.
There's no reason to cry... Today has been such a great day... Yet, why am I depressed?
Why am I depressed? I will never know...
Maybe I need to get a fucking grip.
Life is so fucking great.
Tomorrow can be great.
Bend yourself.
Bend your mind.
You haven't experience so much.
You haven't even begun to peak.
Think of the friends you've made a long the way.
Think of the friends that will cry their hearts out if you die out of suicide.
Think of their regrets.
Think of yourself.
Think of the happy days.
Think of the possibly held in the future happy days.
Think of the people that care about you.
Think about what you've done that made them care about you.
Please, think about it, you are a great and kind person.
I know you have problem with your self esteem because of the horrible things you've done in the past that made you formed some kind of heavy gravitational pull dragging your self esteem. But it has made the person who you are today.
Think about the smiles of the people that care about you.
The people that have defined you.
The people that grow from you.
The people that are grateful for your existence.
I know your life has been a complex one, from helping your very first girlfriend as the first person you love so much at that time to have depression. How she asks for her void of belonging to be fulfilled by your presence.
It really is just a condition. It can be alleviated. It just needs heavy rewiring of the brain that may comes from understanding of its condition.
Your brain has become very intricate now.
There's no changing of the past and spaces for regret. There's only now and tomorrow.
Tomorrow has values and there are reasons to live for another day.
Maybe what you experienced occasionally is best described as 'panic attacks' and it is relatively normal for people who has depression.
Please don't throw it all away in one single instances.
Oh how much I wish the people that cared about me that I am trying my best.
I will be really sorry if my best wasn't enough.
But I am really really trying my best.
The reason why this article is caled pride and repulsion, was inspired when I was reading an article of one of my favorite artist, Gerard Way how he felt about his depression.
"You know it's really bad," when he says with a smile. "It's really bad when you disgust even yourself."
The passion to understand depression. Why I read cases of people that also has depression even famous artists that I would by default assume "They should be able to be really proud of what they've created that millions have turned to like." Yet it is somehow really strange that they are disgusted by the existence of themselves... It is really bad when you disgust even yourself...
This is where the word "Pride" comes in and the lack of it or best describe as "Replusion (a feeling of intense distaste or disgust)."
The trouble of somehow yet all of the amazing character that I have formed that people have verbally told me that it is a nice thing to have yet why can't I like myself? The spine that is strangely fluid in nature and everchanging. Sometimes I like myself and sometimes I want to commit the destruction of myself. The oscillating waves of emotions between elation and repulsion.
I may be need to be more self aware of my own achievements. The amazing things I have created and amazing experiences that I have given to the people I care about. Maybe I lack self awareness or maybe my depression clouded my self awareness.
I am a kind person.
I am a kind human.