Saturday, July 14, 2007

4:36 PM | Just So You Know...

Do you remember that episode from Oprah where a woman's inner turmoil was reflected in the horrifying mess of her house? I've felt that way for some time now: when summer ended, and June began, I must tell you that my life turned towards hellish. The descent to depression was swift, and horrible. And because I was so messed up inside, I just watched my pad go to pieces day by day... It was not even about having too much work, I see now. It's all right when there's pressure building up -- I thrive in hard work and pressure -- but this time, I was despairing because I was being bitch-slapped around because ... I did something good, and I became the fall guy for somebody else's incompetence. I could not process my bewilderment, and I so allowed myself to wallow in the pain and humiliation that followed. But there was a point (last Sunday morning, in fact) when I realized that the whole thing was choking me, was destroying my life. That morning, I allowed myself to cry. I began the process of recovery. It was hard, and many times I seemed to have missed the exit from the darkness, and so I went on further in the highway of despair. But things seem so much better now: cranking up the creativity (I was designing things left and right, and I wrote two short stories...) proved the ultimate kicker. And guess what. It's a Saturday afternoon. I just had a luncheon session with my LitCritters (the best bunch of young people in Dumaguete, I must say), had a quick snap, and now I'm starting to clean my mess in my apartment. Let's call that capping my therapy. One thing's for sure, though: I am never ever letting this happen to me again. So, for all those monsters in our lives who seem to take pleasure in dragging us down...


I will never ever let anyone do that to me, ever again.

Labels: life, psychology

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