[Diary] Starting Over

My state of mind isn't really at it's best right now. I'm depressed, plain and simple. It's more than 6 months already. There's no end in sight yet... I can smile, laugh and put up a normal facade but it's cracking already. I know I've been quite the negatron with a large, dark rain cloud hanging over my head and a shadow of grief behind my smile. My depression keeps a tight grip on my neck and refuses to let go.

Last year, I knew that I was slowly becoming depressed. I started feeling the creeping sadness and hopelessness around June then it took over me completely. I felt like I was drowning. 

To be clear, I tried my best to fight it by finding a psychiatrist who lives closer to my home, going to more therapy sessions and agreeing to a new change in my medication. I slept on time, took my meds on time and tried meditation. I tried coloring, reading new books and even eating my feelings away. Nothing worked. Nothing was helping me. 

I tried my best to stay afloat by going to work so I can pretend that I have a normal life. 

The final straw that broke the camel's back was when my company fired me right before Christmas. It really pushed my buttons to overdrive and my depression became a full-time enemy. Goodbye, normal life!

I did my best to cope and to keep it together but it's so hard... I've been battling the demons for more than six months. I've also gone through a mixed state with mania and depression fighting each other for control. 

(Yes, it's the mania that pushed me to apply to a slew of companies and to try my luck in other call centers. Guess what? I started to get rejected one after another because of my previous company. Mania won for a bit then depression took over. It's so exhausting!)

I'm ashamed to admit that I spent the last two months licking my wounds and trying to recover. I watched too much Netflix, Youtube and anime. I slept more than 12 hours every day. I watched myself slowly sinking into despair. I kept thinking, "Is this it? Is this the end of my life? Is the end of the line?"

There were days when my demons won so I tended to entertain my suicidal thoughts. I stayed in the balcony too long and counted how many seconds I'll need before I hit the ground from the 13th floor of my condo. I stared at my pack of medicines and wondered how long it would take for them to poison me completely. I talked about suicide so casually that it caused my boyfriend to become alarmed. 

Albin was supportive, caring and completely reliable in these trying times. He's awkward and he fumbled when it comes to words of comfort but he's there. He's always there. He kept telling me, "You have things that other people want. You can have other opportunities. Come on, babe, you can't be serious. We still have a long life to live together." When he says those things, I burst into tears because I felt guilty for wanting to leave him alone in this cruel world when I took my life. I felt so bad for being depressed, for being angry and for being helpless. He would hug me afterwards and let me cry.

Is this going to be a thing for my entire life? Depression, mania, depression and mania again... My emotional climate is turbulent, violent and cruel. I cannot control my outbursts of emotion and I cannot definitely control my tongue. It's so hard to dance with the devils when you don't know the steps.

When I lost my job, I definitely felt weak and useless. I was helpless against the world. I was so afraid that my disability will become a self-fulfilling prophecy. I'd have visions of my life spent on couches and beds in catatonia. I would be a burden to my partner, my family and my friends. I will never be able to afford my medications, my therapy and my doctor visits... I will never get well.

Tears would run down my face. I'd fall even deeper into despair when I think about it. No decent company would hire someone who hopped between 13 companies in 10 years. Nobody would want someone who can't even stick around. Of course, I'd left some of those companies in the heat of the moment or in the height of my mania when I was not yet diagnosed. Look at me now. I've always been paying for the mistakes of my youth but it seems that it will never be enough.

All I want is a normal life, okay? I just want to have a husband, three kids, a house and a car. I could tolerate a dog or 10 hamsters. I want to have a steady job, a retirement fund and investments. I want to be able to take two vacations in a year with my family. I want to be financially stable, respected in my career and owner of a small business. That's all I want. 

When I was in my previous job, I was planning to save up as much money as I can so I can retire from the corporate game by 35-years-old. Unfortunately, I'll have to hold off on that because I got fired. I haven't found a new job at this time. I'm dropping steadily into an abyss of despair.

Of course, call centers are not the only jobs out there. Of course not.

What do I want to be? Why am I so scared to try something different? Why am I not open to trying other jobs? Because I have Bipolar Disorder and it will definitely be harder for me to adjust, explain and attempt to switch industries. Or maybe because I'm already scared and traumatized from what happened to me in the not-so-distant past with my previous company, Sufferland.

I wished that I could just become a housewife but that's out of the question. Albin is not proposing anytime soon and that's even more depressing to think about.

My other options include working from home, selling stuff online, becoming a full fledged writer and working for the government. Yeah, I'll get back to you on that. 

Hope breeds eternal misery but I can still hope, right? Every crushed hope will lead me further into the path of darkness. Let's see how it goes. Maybe I'll be able to turn the situation around. Who knows? Only God knows what's going to happen next.

Perhaps I should write horror next time because my mind is a dark, lifeless place.