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This is the blog of Ian Rosales Casocot. Filipino writer. Sometime academic. Former backpacker. Twink bait. Hamster lover.

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Wednesday, January 05, 2011

entry arrow1:58 PM | Mapping the Lower Regions

I know the low regions of my manic-depression quite well. It does not signal its coming, but you know it always comes at the tail-end of a period of euphoria, or abruptly at the end of a triumphant day. Then it begins like a fog in the brain that refuses to lift, even with so much effort. It paralyzes you. It cannot be moved. You may listen to music you love, you may watch heartwarming films you adore, you may be in great company, you may take a thousand doses of Red Bull, you may go to the gym every day and get that rush of endorphins. The outside world may think you are the same old chap. But nothing works. The fog that paralyzes stays where it is. And you cannot do anything, except breathe, or feed yourself, or pretend all is right with your world. You don't even entertain hope for that ray of sunlight to start peeking through the denseness. You just wait.

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