Thursday, August 25, 2011
the greatest darkness you can ever know.
Many times, I've been asked to describe depression.
Below is taken from gemstar
Below is taken from gemstar
The best analogy that comes to my mind is the analogy of Frodo and the Ringwraiths from the Lord of the Rings by Tolkein. After Frodo gets stabbed by the evil Nazgûl sword, when the ringwraiths (Nazgûl) are near, Frodo has an almost irrisistable urge to join them. He reaches out for them. It's a sick longing he feels, and yet he does not really want to join them. In reality he wants to fight them! But under the poison of the Nazgûl and the One Ring, he wants to die, be dead, like them. It's only when he is somewhat healed at Rivendale that he is able to see clearly again for the time being.
The feeling of suicide is like the feeling Frodo had in the story where he wants to join the Nazgûl. Of course, Frodo's friends don't want that and fight to save his life. The poison of the blade is like depression. The irrisistable urge that utter despair brings to end all good things for yourself by suicide is the same as his urge. Those of us who fight this urge find a kinship in Frodo's journey to destroy the One Ring. And we all need a friend like Sam to see us through. It's when those Sam's are missing that we have the most trouble. That is the sadness of depression, the isolation we feel that is not our fault.
We push other's away and want to deal with things on our own, but the truth is that we need others. We need our Sam.
Depression is an emotional journey into the depths of the greatest darkness you can ever know.
The feeling of suicide is like the feeling Frodo had in the story where he wants to join the Nazgûl. Of course, Frodo's friends don't want that and fight to save his life. The poison of the blade is like depression. The irrisistable urge that utter despair brings to end all good things for yourself by suicide is the same as his urge. Those of us who fight this urge find a kinship in Frodo's journey to destroy the One Ring. And we all need a friend like Sam to see us through. It's when those Sam's are missing that we have the most trouble. That is the sadness of depression, the isolation we feel that is not our fault.
We push other's away and want to deal with things on our own, but the truth is that we need others. We need our Sam.
Depression is an emotional journey into the depths of the greatest darkness you can ever know.
Taken from Farah Fahmy
Tahir Jahan's son was one of the three men who were deliberately run into and killed in Birmingham. It would probably be fair to say that he single-handedly defused the very tense atmosphere in Birmingham (and possibly the entire country) by saying the following when many were itching for revenge:
Tahir Jahan's son was one of the three men who were deliberately run into and killed in Birmingham. It would probably be fair to say that he single-handedly defused the very tense atmosphere in Birmingham (and possibly the entire country) by saying the following when many were itching for revenge:
“I lost my son. Blacks, Asians, whites: We all live in the same community. Why do we have to kill one another? Why are we doing this? Step forward if you want to lose your sons. Otherwise, calm down and go home, please.”
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Monday, August 22, 2011
"The only thing that keeps me going, is the belief that I still can make a difference in this world. There's that one person whom I can help, even in my own smallest way - I can still make a difference."
I said that in a support group. Though it does sound like a pageantry answer, I didn't rehearse it. I didn't even know that I felt so strongly about the above words.
But one thing's for sure,
IT IS TRUE.
That's why it's important to talk about things.
We might still surprise ourselves.
When we vocalised our convictions, it becomes a promise to ourselves.
This morning,
I pledged monthly donations to Kidney Medicare Charity Fund.
I said that in a support group. Though it does sound like a pageantry answer, I didn't rehearse it. I didn't even know that I felt so strongly about the above words.
But one thing's for sure,
IT IS TRUE.
That's why it's important to talk about things.
We might still surprise ourselves.
When we vocalised our convictions, it becomes a promise to ourselves.
This morning,
I pledged monthly donations to Kidney Medicare Charity Fund.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Monday, August 08, 2011
Saturday, August 06, 2011
Thursday, August 04, 2011
It has been a very long time since I've been able to concentrate on a book.
The Housekeeper and The Professor
The Professor never really seemed to care whether we figured out the right answer to a problem.He preferred our wild, desperate guesses to silence.and he was even more delighted when those guesses led to new problems that took us beyond the original one. He had a special feeling for what he called the 'correct miscalculation,' for he believed that mistakes were often as revealing as the right answers.
...he would sit peering in as the toast browned. He was as fascinated by the toast as he was by the mathematical proofs we did together, as if the truth of the toaster were no different from that of the Pythagorean theorem.
The Housekeeper and The Professor
The Professor never really seemed to care whether we figured out the right answer to a problem.He preferred our wild, desperate guesses to silence.and he was even more delighted when those guesses led to new problems that took us beyond the original one. He had a special feeling for what he called the 'correct miscalculation,' for he believed that mistakes were often as revealing as the right answers.
...he would sit peering in as the toast browned. He was as fascinated by the toast as he was by the mathematical proofs we did together, as if the truth of the toaster were no different from that of the Pythagorean theorem.
Wednesday, August 03, 2011
Due to my illness, I have terrible low self-esteem.
Most of the time, I try not to have eye contact with people who are difficult.
And sometimes, people tend to misconstrue this facial expression of mine.
I deal with a lot of students at my work.
About 35% of them are rude and irreverent.
Yesterday, I had one of that sort asking if I had seen his pen drive, which he had forgotten to retrieve from the computer last night.
I was on duty last night and nobody reported anything to the counter.
I asked the co-worker on morning shift, and she too said the same thing.
The brash student then left the counter with a sour face without a word of gratitude.
Today he came again with the same rude approach.
I looked at the counter drawer again and said, “No.”
He looked at me accusingly and said, “If I ever find a pen drive here, I would never return it!” and abruptly left without giving me a chance to respond.
I was of course furious.
I thought, “How presumptuous of him to judge the honesty of the staff!”
However, my co-worker who witnessed the whole incident didn’t think so.
She said, “Nah, he’s just angry that he lost his stuff. You’re over analysing it”
Is it true?
Most of the time, I try not to have eye contact with people who are difficult.
And sometimes, people tend to misconstrue this facial expression of mine.
I deal with a lot of students at my work.
About 35% of them are rude and irreverent.
Yesterday, I had one of that sort asking if I had seen his pen drive, which he had forgotten to retrieve from the computer last night.
I was on duty last night and nobody reported anything to the counter.
I asked the co-worker on morning shift, and she too said the same thing.
The brash student then left the counter with a sour face without a word of gratitude.
Today he came again with the same rude approach.
I looked at the counter drawer again and said, “No.”
He looked at me accusingly and said, “If I ever find a pen drive here, I would never return it!” and abruptly left without giving me a chance to respond.
I was of course furious.
I thought, “How presumptuous of him to judge the honesty of the staff!”
However, my co-worker who witnessed the whole incident didn’t think so.
She said, “Nah, he’s just angry that he lost his stuff. You’re over analysing it”
Is it true?
Monday, August 01, 2011
16 March 2011
I had dinner with my old college friends last night. I had been very nervous about it the whole week. The last time I met up with them, I broke down in tears the moment I stepped into my car to head home.
It has been 7 years since I was first admitted to the hospital. And in these 7 years, my life was in terrible mess. Depressed, Manic, Depressed, Manic, Depressed.. and now finally a little stability in my life. Even for an unhealthy lifestyle, 7 years did wheeze by very quickly. Time waits for no man, even so for a depressed (wo)man.
In my last meet-up with my friend, I made a very inappropriate interruption when my friend W was talking. The other friend M who was listening intently snapped at me, "It's not always about you!" I quickly apologised.
But when I got home I cried buckets because I felt my social skills have gone haywire. Also, she made a very good point. For the past 7 years, my life has only been about ME and my mental illness. There was nothing else in my life. The other peers were building careers, expanding their colourful social network, in short, experiencing their youthful 20s. I , on the other hand, was merely preoccupied with my sad sad troubled mind.
As I'm writing this, I sit staring aimlessly into the air, as my memories of my past just creep by. Regardless of the chronology.
A friend called up to express her regrets of not contacting me sooner. I was very surprised that she'd feel that way. Earlier, I had messaged her ,'Thanks for your extraordinary kindness and patience during my worst of times" and was and still am confused why such message could bring about guilt? I assured her, that she has been a terrific friend. To further illustrate my point, I added, "Honestly if I were in your shoes, I would have stayed away". And I meant it.
Back when we were in college, things were simple and easy. You work hard in your studies, you get good grades. If not, you don't.
Back then, we all had equal chances in life. Our futures were bright with idealistic prospects. 7 years have passed and reality came to us in different ways. Some changed, and in my case, I was devastated by it.
We are in college no more.
It has been 7 years since I was first admitted to the hospital. And in these 7 years, my life was in terrible mess. Depressed, Manic, Depressed, Manic, Depressed.. and now finally a little stability in my life. Even for an unhealthy lifestyle, 7 years did wheeze by very quickly. Time waits for no man, even so for a depressed (wo)man.
In my last meet-up with my friend, I made a very inappropriate interruption when my friend W was talking. The other friend M who was listening intently snapped at me, "It's not always about you!" I quickly apologised.
But when I got home I cried buckets because I felt my social skills have gone haywire. Also, she made a very good point. For the past 7 years, my life has only been about ME and my mental illness. There was nothing else in my life. The other peers were building careers, expanding their colourful social network, in short, experiencing their youthful 20s. I , on the other hand, was merely preoccupied with my sad sad troubled mind.
As I'm writing this, I sit staring aimlessly into the air, as my memories of my past just creep by. Regardless of the chronology.
A friend called up to express her regrets of not contacting me sooner. I was very surprised that she'd feel that way. Earlier, I had messaged her ,'Thanks for your extraordinary kindness and patience during my worst of times" and was and still am confused why such message could bring about guilt? I assured her, that she has been a terrific friend. To further illustrate my point, I added, "Honestly if I were in your shoes, I would have stayed away". And I meant it.
Back when we were in college, things were simple and easy. You work hard in your studies, you get good grades. If not, you don't.
Back then, we all had equal chances in life. Our futures were bright with idealistic prospects. 7 years have passed and reality came to us in different ways. Some changed, and in my case, I was devastated by it.
We are in college no more.
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