Changing

They say that the only permanent thing in this world is change. Seasons change, things change, people change. It’s obvious that it happens, but we sometimes have a hard time accepting that reality, especially when it comes to people.

People change and develop throughout their whole lifetime, but there are some things that don’t change within a person. It may be their personality, their traits, their habits, their tendencies, their way of reacting to phenomena. We often wish that people’s personality, traits, and attitude towards us would never change; if they would change, they’d change for the better. But what do we mean in changing for the better: better for us, or better for them?

We naturally, forcefully, and intentionally change in almost every aspect in life. There are so many factors and stimuli for change. For example, when we age, our hair turns white; our voice deepens, our skin sags, and our memory fails us. When time passes by, some get impatient and some get more patient, others get more irritable and the rest get less irritable, we become selfish or selfless. The changes in us all depend on the chemicals in our body, our feelings and emotions, and other external factors that really affect us.

While we accept the physical changes in people, we often want to stay the same when it comes to the values and attitude of people. Why is that so?

For me, we tend to wish that people “won’t change” because we like/love the people we like/love for who they are. If any aspect of what we like/love about one person changes for the worse, we might end up hating that person. We wish to have a stable relationship with people, despite our differences. It’s already hard to accept people for their whole personhood; what more if that person would change after accepting him/her?

That’s the challenge for us today: to accept change. We have to accept that everything is changing, whether it’s for the better or for the worse. We have to accept that everything is temporary, that even people’s treatment towards us can be something that can’t be the same as it was before. After all, we are all just human – full of imperfections.

I, myself, have a hard time accepting the changes in people, especially if I’m so used to certain people treating me in a certain way. It’s hard to adjust to other people while adjusting to myself, especially that I am bipolar. I would just wish that people would understand how much I need people to be there for me all the time. People with changing attitudes towards me frustrate me a lot, and it makes me depressed and unable to perform daily tasks like going to school.

I would sometimes wish that people wouldn’t change, but I know that it’s impossible for that to happen. So, I try to accept things and people as they are – changing.

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Domino – The Sad Side Of My Bipolar II Story

You wouldn’t know if a person is depressed or sensitive at one look. You have to talk to that person to find out. So be careful with what you say and how you say it. You may ruin someone’s life with it.

This has been the longest time that I’ve been depressed – 10 days straight.

It all started on November 17, a Monday. I went on a trip to my nutritionist. I haven’t been a good girl when it comes to my food, but I try my best to control myself. But my best is never good enough. The lady in her 60s encircled all the excess food I ate in my food diary, and told me how much of a bad girl I am in front of my mom. My aura changed in an instant, my eyes started to water with salty tears. I tried to smile when she joked around, hiding the pain in my chest.

I went home offended. I wish I had the chance to tell her how hard I tried to fight my cravings, how hard I tried to controlled my depression. But no, I was mum. I was hit hard. It was like I was stoned.

I lost my spirit over 30 minutes in that grumpy old woman’s office. It was like I lost myself. I lost my self-control, my determination, my will. I sulked in my room and I was pretty grumpy too. I thought too badly of myself.

But hey, even if I was a bad girl, she should have held back her words and lowered her voice. She’s supposed to encourage people to reach their goal. Well, I may be sensitive, but man, no one fully knows what a person is going through! (Lesson learned: be kind to one another.)

And so I was pretty much jaded for two days. I was so jaded to the point when I did not attend classes. I burned paper after not burning personal stuff for a year. I missed out on an important deadline on the 19th, and I explained to my professor what has been going on. I felt a little bit lighter, and so I was quite happy again.

But the agony of waiting for the professor’s reply to my email drained my energy and joy. I lost my willpower to work on my paper, not to mention my interest in my topic as well. As I attended class the next meeting, I was told to submit an output on the same day. I wasn’t done. I almost cried. Fighting the tears in my eyes, I listened to the discussion on logical fallacies. After class, she told me that I can submit today. I was overjoyed, and I couldn’t thanked her enough.

But alas, I got drained again. I was so depressed because I couldn’t organize my thoughts. I lost my interest in my topic. I felt lifeless. And so I was frustrated yesterday because I couldn’t write. I slept and slept. I missed out on my appointment with my psychiatrist this morning. I had food delivered just to be happy. But I never smiled.

At last, I finished the paper, because I had to. Maybe I got drained because I knew that I would get a grade of 3, 4 or 5. But hey, at least I’m finished with the paper. And so, I wrote this to celebrate.

Why did I write this?
This is to remind people to be nice and kind to others. This is to remind people that there are many of us who have this medical condition (and many more mental health issues). This is to remind people that not everything we say is okay. This is to remind people that sometimes, we have to be a little more sensitive.

I wish to be a little bit happier starting tomorrow, despite the fact that I have a lot on my shoulders.

Moving On

By accident, I clicked on a link that would lead me to his Facebook timeline. I was scared to feel hurt; I was scared to cry. But as I browsed through his photos, I felt, well, quite normal. It was as if nothing happened.

This is not the first time that this happened, yet I still feel scared every time I do this. Believe it or not, I intentionally click on the link every time I did it in the past. Why? I wanted to know if I have really moved on. And all I can say is this: yes, I have moved on.

Erasing something from your past is impossible, even if you have amnesia or any other memory-related condition. Something can never be undone, even if you keep on covering it up. Your dark and painful past is hard to forget, but I didn’t realize that you can choose to remember the past but forget the pain until today.

He took my innocence, my confidence, my pride, my being. And yet, I look at him, feeling no pain. Maybe I feel indifferent, but that’s alright. At least now I don’t want him to rot in hell. I even wish him well.

See how time heals? I sought no help, only listening ears. Recovering from molestation and attempted rape is burdensome, but I got through it. Though its effects are here to stay, I can see that I have moved on.

Now, if you think that it’s the end of the world, look around you. You’ll see people who have problems that are a million times bigger than yours. But look at them, still fighting. You can always surpass it and move on. Just believe in yourself.

Attention

I grew up fine, but then I started to become an attention seeker.

For some reason, I’ve become an attention seeker. I guess it’s brought up by jealousy. See, I can be a jealous girlfriend to everybody, even to myself. I easily get jealous of my school mates, to be really honest. I may seem like the perfect student in high school, but I was really envious of my classmates who seemed to have better and grander lives.

I would always wish to be a little more fortunate in every aspect of my life. I don’t know if this is brought by my depression, but I would always wish for more Twitter/Instagram followers, more money in my savings account, my own ATM/credit card, more terms in my word bank, more time for TV shows, more tasteful music in my iTunes/Spotify library, more faith, more knowledge of myself, more confidence. I would always want more. I’m never contented.

So now, I feel like I need more attention, and more friends too. I feel like I’m being ignored by the world. It’s like I’m invisible! I hate being invisible.

I guess it’s all a part of my condition. I just hope that I don’t stay like this forever.