Quick Tip: Stay Regular: An entry for wordpress.com regarding a topic, “A healthy blog is like a healthy colon; if you put crap in, you’ll get crap out.”
How come they were able to make it? How were the big hitters able to dash through all the way? How were they able to get up there and stay right there? When and how did they start? Who are they all and how many are they out there?
The park is my fastest getaway at night when everyone’s heading home but at daylight, if I get there early, I rush to a nearby bookstore and browse on any book or article about writing. It’s what I do best. I’ve been writing ever since I was in high school. My twin sister started it and now I’m living what we used to be doing together. I always love writing and I know I’ll never get tired of it so I’m helping myself out. I wanna learn more about this field and what other methodologies I need to learn and adapt. I also browse on stories about young writers especially the big ones. They’re stories behind writing amaze me. I look up to them and wanna become one of them. I really love doing this for this is the task that’s closest to my heart. It’s never taking endless calls everyday, managing people from time to time, nor helping young individuals learn fundamentals of knowledge — it’s writing! My heart keeps shouting it at all corners waiting to burst.
Despite that, I cannot deny that it also adds up to my depression for lately, I’ve been craving for it; that I didn’t wanna do anything else anymore but just keep writing. Even my daily routines were lately affected by my obsession. Everyday I think about it as everyday, I write. I never stop writing as I never stop thinking. How come the big ones were able to make it? How come they were able to pass through all circumstances? Is it because they’re normal while I’m not? Though I’m a Bipolar and I do have extreme mood swings, my writing hobby is never affected. Actually, I can even write more at times I’m depressed for this is my refuge. This is my comfort zone. In writing is where I’m safe. I can runaway from the world and live in my imagination. I’m more on imagining things. I’m more on story telling. I’m more on description for these things are what I’m usually repressed from. At times the world just hits me all at once, I run to my fantasy. I run through my never-ending aisle of imagination. I’ve even created myself high walls where no one could reach me and hurt me at times I’m so alone. I’ve even built a castle for my late twin sister whom I used to write together with so she could stay and rest in my heart forever. I’m so good at imagining things. I’m good in thinking. I’m good in planning and believing but I’m not in putting them into action. I’m not good in realizing dreams. My real life even sucks for all my undying emotions just surface even now making me depressed and lost focus and will to live my life. But at times all this happens, I come back to writing and there, I become whole again and as I’ve said, my writing is never affected by my real issues. They boost up instead. Wherever I am, whatever I’m doing, as soon as life hits me down the cracks, I let my mind drift and create tiny little pictures until they formulate a story. Once a story enters my mind, I start writing them and my life continues as my depression goes off.
At times I’m depressed and all undying emotions surface from within, my unquiet mind keeps on twirling and twirling like it’s going around in circles going nowhere fast. Yet, everytime it does that, the only time I’m able to understand these emotions is when I put them into writing. Everytime I write them, I’m able to determine each feeling that surface one by one and understand how each of them cause me gravitational pull all coming from a certain spot in my heart that runs through in fast circles like whirlpools until they knock me off the shelf driving me off so crazy. My mind gets captured as my mind thinks all by itself that I can hardly control it. Yet, instead of repeating what I used to do at times I get depressed where I welcome the thoughts of running my life off the cliff to end everything up, I write instead. This is my best therapy and I just lately realized that. All this time, it’s just lately I’ve come to understand that depression can still be won over by doing what I love doing and that’s writing it down for I can very well express myself in writing more than conversing. This is what I’ve been doing for two weeks now and as my close friends observed that I’m getting better.
I should have realized this long ago. I should have realized this early this year for last month, my depression was severely serious for negative thoughts really entered my mind so fast and easily won me over most of the nights as undying emotions surfaced five to seven times a day and each time they surface, they stay long for an hour to three. There was even a week when I was seriously depressed from the time I woke up in the morning until the time I was about to go to bed. I did nothing but kept on crying feeling sorry for myself that I was still alive and that I still woke up. I kept on hating my mornings for everytime I woke up and open my eyes, a strong undeniable thought quickly entered my mind, whispering, “Oh shit, why am I still alive?”
That was scary. That was seriously scary. This time, I’m not gonna let myself keep circling the drain anymore. I’m all tired of being depressed. Now that I’m able to find my way out. Now that I was able to discover my quickest getaway from this avenue, I don’t wanna stay right down there forever.
I’m slowly healing now and at the same time, starting to realize the worth of living. Well, thanks to my happy pill alternative which is writing, I was able to find my way toward my inner peace. I was able to find my best way of driving my depression off in an effortless way. Well, the source is still uncertain though yet, I don’t care. Not for now. I’m not on this ground to figure it out. All I know is that, it’s really in deed helping me out and I just never thought writing is my obsession ever since that turned out to be a very good hobby.
This has always been my favorite dish ever since I was a little girl. It’s a Filipino dish called “Sinigang na Baboy” or Pork Sinigang which literally means “a pot of pork with tamarind soup.”
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