In this time of despair, I'm writing it as a way of finding hope, as a way of reassuring myself that one day when I'll be fine and normal again, I'd read this and know that I indeed survived with no harms done.
I write this because I want to soothe my being that 'yes, I do think of tomorrow with some optimism and bit of realism too'. However dark my today and short past has been, and my short (?) future going to be, when I think of it, it's obvious I shall come out of it - it's obvious that THIS shall pass too.
I didn't think at all this would happen yet again, or now that I see, with such intensity. (I'm already feeling hesitant to escape it, this state of hurry tears me apart). That is to say that I didn't prepare for it. It has always been the case with me, I don't take guard, I don't keep an account, I let go without learning anything.
But even when I look back to last year to my first depression episode, I don't it was as severe as this one, or that it made my life so miserable as it is now. Maybe because it is in the past, and my present, therefore seems more alarming and unforgiving.
I didn't think of coming here and not finding the people I was with last year. I didn't care back at home. I thought I could live anyhow, with anyone. I didn't think of my classes being different and friends' different. I didn't care. I thought it better I gave me some time alone. But now, I do care.
As I came, I found troubles, unlike last time. I came to know I had lost my bike papers, pillow and other stuff which me realize how pathetic a decision I made and how careless I can be. I couldn't take it. I worried and worried until it became a thing of past. But depression was dangling just there, waiting to grab me.
It's ironic I can't even remember how I fell into depression, or if I fell at all. But I did feel lonely. From then on, I was being trapped in a mindset that I was lonely and away and that whatever I'm doing isn't right and I need to get out of here. And now, I'm not only fully trapped but totally succumbed to it, overcome by it, enslaved even.
Right this moment, I can't bring myself to continue writing. It's not helping is what my mind is saying and that reply to my tweet from the psychiatrist I visited, Clinic Only, has made me anxious again. And now I'm getting more anxious. I don't know what to do.
Can't write anything specific about the weekdays, but on weekends, this weekend specifically, I wake up stressed by the abnormal dreams, thanks to capsules, and then I continue fall deeper. I go to the bathroom, and there I sweat and heart beats fast as if I'm in extreme urgency to escape or take a decision. I look myself in the mirror I feel remorse and pity and guilt for myself. I don't like my hair, my shirt that I've been wearing for past two weeks. I eat my breakfast fast because I'm in a hurry but I don't know why. I can't think by now, I just am automated for the rest of the day. I think about my day and tomorrow and day after that and try to find something that'd comfort me, but there's none, or even if there is, I mess it up by rethinking about it time and again. I go to the park and I find little piece mixed with panic attacks and an all-time-there caged head that hurts, races and makes me anxious, irritated, lost and unhappy. Sometimes it gets too much and that's when I think I've lost it. The more these moments strike me, the more I feel I've lost it, that something that shouldn't happen, is going to happen. Someone from home coming here, or me canceling my semester, or me worrying my family to the point that some bad decision is taken with severe consequences. Today, I felt these end-points many times. With my friend during the majlis, texting with my elder brother, in the park, after the majlis, during the prayers, and maybe now as well - it seems as if there's no way out and I can't survive here, and it conclusively feels like you've lost and there's nothing more left. Your back sinks, shoulders cry out of pain, and your esteem dies completely. You get scared, real scared like there's no way left now.
I write this because I want to soothe my being that 'yes, I do think of tomorrow with some optimism and bit of realism too'. However dark my today and short past has been, and my short (?) future going to be, when I think of it, it's obvious I shall come out of it - it's obvious that THIS shall pass too.
I didn't think at all this would happen yet again, or now that I see, with such intensity. (I'm already feeling hesitant to escape it, this state of hurry tears me apart). That is to say that I didn't prepare for it. It has always been the case with me, I don't take guard, I don't keep an account, I let go without learning anything.
But even when I look back to last year to my first depression episode, I don't it was as severe as this one, or that it made my life so miserable as it is now. Maybe because it is in the past, and my present, therefore seems more alarming and unforgiving.
I didn't think of coming here and not finding the people I was with last year. I didn't care back at home. I thought I could live anyhow, with anyone. I didn't think of my classes being different and friends' different. I didn't care. I thought it better I gave me some time alone. But now, I do care.
As I came, I found troubles, unlike last time. I came to know I had lost my bike papers, pillow and other stuff which me realize how pathetic a decision I made and how careless I can be. I couldn't take it. I worried and worried until it became a thing of past. But depression was dangling just there, waiting to grab me.
It's ironic I can't even remember how I fell into depression, or if I fell at all. But I did feel lonely. From then on, I was being trapped in a mindset that I was lonely and away and that whatever I'm doing isn't right and I need to get out of here. And now, I'm not only fully trapped but totally succumbed to it, overcome by it, enslaved even.
Right this moment, I can't bring myself to continue writing. It's not helping is what my mind is saying and that reply to my tweet from the psychiatrist I visited, Clinic Only, has made me anxious again. And now I'm getting more anxious. I don't know what to do.
Can't write anything specific about the weekdays, but on weekends, this weekend specifically, I wake up stressed by the abnormal dreams, thanks to capsules, and then I continue fall deeper. I go to the bathroom, and there I sweat and heart beats fast as if I'm in extreme urgency to escape or take a decision. I look myself in the mirror I feel remorse and pity and guilt for myself. I don't like my hair, my shirt that I've been wearing for past two weeks. I eat my breakfast fast because I'm in a hurry but I don't know why. I can't think by now, I just am automated for the rest of the day. I think about my day and tomorrow and day after that and try to find something that'd comfort me, but there's none, or even if there is, I mess it up by rethinking about it time and again. I go to the park and I find little piece mixed with panic attacks and an all-time-there caged head that hurts, races and makes me anxious, irritated, lost and unhappy. Sometimes it gets too much and that's when I think I've lost it. The more these moments strike me, the more I feel I've lost it, that something that shouldn't happen, is going to happen. Someone from home coming here, or me canceling my semester, or me worrying my family to the point that some bad decision is taken with severe consequences. Today, I felt these end-points many times. With my friend during the majlis, texting with my elder brother, in the park, after the majlis, during the prayers, and maybe now as well - it seems as if there's no way out and I can't survive here, and it conclusively feels like you've lost and there's nothing more left. Your back sinks, shoulders cry out of pain, and your esteem dies completely. You get scared, real scared like there's no way left now.