Holding On

A few days ago, one of my colleagues asked me; 

"Dee, what makes you keep holding on until now?"

I couldn't help but stop what I was doing and thought about it for a moment. What makes me endure all of the pains and still carry on with my life?

As many of you know, I suffer from severe depression for the past couple of years. I even planned to end my own life. I was desperately holding on to a thin line. It was such a struggle to spend a day without crying. I cried so much that it hurt me physically. I was constantly feeling blue and unmotivated. As the day went by, my will to live also disappeared.

I desperately needed someone to calm me down and tell me that it was okay and I shouldn't have felt worthless. I knew that I needed professional help, and I did. I sought help only to be told that I was not religious enough and needed to pray more. I would be lying if I say that sentence didn't hurt me because it did. My effort to get better didn't help me at all. Instead, it made me think that maybe I really wasn't worth it. My life had no meaning and I was just a burden to everyone else.

Being asked about my motivation to hold on makes me think only one person. My mother.

She was the reason why I keep holding on until this very second. Thinking about her was enough to make me say "enough of this shit, I need to get better". Both of us were diagnosed with depression but instead of encouraging us to seek professional help, most people told us to be more religious and apologize to God for not being diligent enough. Our surrounding was so toxic.

Fortunately, I met a great psychiatrist who was willing to listen to my rants. She consoled me and told me to not think too much ahead or look back to my past. I need to focus on the present time. Instead of bottling up my emotions, I have to acknowledge them. I have to accept every emotion that comes out; anger, sadness, happiness, or even disappointment. I need to forgive my own flaws in order to accept them completely.

I used to be so embarrassed when it comes to mental health because our society teaches us that going to a mental ward in a hospital means you're crazy. In short, a mental ward is for those who have lost their mind. This perception had made me rethink million times before I opened up to someone. I didn't want people to think that I'm crazy because I am not.

Now though, I can talk about it freely without being scared of people judge me. Having depression doesn't make me a lazy bum or a stupid person. So what if I'm depressed? I still can give tutoring sessions several times almost every day.

I then ended up telling my colleague this;

"My mother is the main reason why I keep holding on. But knowing that I'm capable of doing things with my own pace also makes me believe that my life is worth to be lived. There will be bad and good days. I maybe will cry my eyes out on my bad days but that's it. It's just a bad day, not a bad life. Acknowledging my emotions has taught me that bottling up things won't do any good."

To you whoever read this, I believe that no life is worthless. You are precious in the way that maybe you haven't realized yet. Hang in there a little bit more. I swear things will get better as the time passes by. If you feel like you can't carry on with your life, reach out to someone; online or offline. You don't have to feel alone because you are loved.

Warm hugs and kisses,

Dee