A Day in the Dark

"It is a beautiful day." I've been repeating this sentence the first few hours of the day. The moment I woke up at 4 in the morning until I realized that I was not being myself. Everything turned gray and clouded. I tried to go back to bed hoping that this melancholy would disappear once I succumbed myself to sleep. 
"It is still a beautiful day." 

15 Minutes was like Forever
I wished that once I opened my eyes it would turn the day into night. But I was wrong. It was barely 15-mins that sleep lulled me. It was barely an hour that I became miserable again. 

My personality test revealed that I am an optimist. I always think of the bright side despite the difficulties encountered. But why was that very hour I felt a sudden pang of sadness and loneliness? Why did I allow myself to be hounded by this black dog of depression? Why was it tailing me? 

I cried half of the day. The other minutes I was angry to myself and to the world. I was ambivalent of my circumstance. I was unsure of myself. I was projecting. I was depressed. Then I remembered the people close to me. I remembered the people who looked up at me dearly and who believed in me. 

I started battling the demons of depression. It was not easy. I was battling my own self. The self I hid deep down the abysmal casket of my mind and in my heart. I warded off the ghosts of my past. 

And the only weapon that I held preciously was my will to survive - the weapon of living a beautiful life. I thought of my adventures. I imagined the mountains I conquered. I envisioned my long yet enjoyable road trips. I reminisced the laughter and kindness I shared with my friends, of my students and the former teachers. I wrapped myself with the love of my family and my relatives. 

That was how my heart regained its normal rhythm. It was still beating and craving for life. My mind began to open the dark and closed tunnel. I saw the light once again. Thus, led me to a beautiful day. 

P.S.: Depression is never joke. Be sensitive. Help save a life. 

P.S.S: An hour after drafting this article, I received a call from a former teacher that one of my previous students committed suicide. I was devastated. But it helped me realized that it was not only me who was suffering but there were plenty of these teens and young adults whose voices inside were never taken cared for and never heard. 

Believe and keep strong. 
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About Marie Angelique Villamor

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