It's been five days that I sleep really late. I just couldn't sleep. I tried to, but my mind kept wandering. And tonight out of nowhere dark clouds were hovering over me. In an instant, I felt worthless and in deep sadness. Depression struck again.
I cried. I already held a knife, but I fought the urge to cut myself. I banged my head to the wall instead.
I knew I had to talk to someone to distract myself from self-harming. So, I reached out to some of my friends.
What I really hate from having this episode is it makes me over the top. I talk gibberish. Some people may not understand it. Some people may think that I exaggerate it. Some people may think that I am weak.
You know, it takes a lot of courage to reach out to someone. It also takes a lot of courage to blog it. I didn't know where to run. I couldn't think clearly. But, then I remembered that I have a sister. I ventured myself to talk to her. I sent her a message. I texted, "Ses, I wanna talk to you about something. I have been fighting depression. I am seeing a psychiatrist and I am on medication."
My family doesn't know what I'm dealing with for the last three months. They don't know that I'm struggling. Until I told my sister this evening.
I told her about my dark thoughts; about my suicidal ideation, about self-harming, about how I viewed myself. At first, I was afraid that her reactions would be something like blaming me, telling me that I was weak, or else. Thank God, she's not like that. She embraced me and accepted me for who I really am.
I told her that I already had this tendency since years ago. She was shocked, yes. She was in disbelief that I was capable of doing any of those destructive things. She told me to fight it. She said if that demon comes, I must call her. At any time.
After talking to my sister I felt relieved. The storm started to dissipate. It hasn't completely disappeared when I'm writing this. It's 2:41 am now. Hopefully, it will be long gone in the morning.