Intelligent People Are Land, Idiots Are Water (Published on Thought Catalog)

Trivial things used to kill my mood. And by trivial things, I mean perverts on the streets who think catcalling me will make me blush in a good way, politicians who are so dumb you’d wonder why they even exist, people who don’t understand mental health—things that may be insignificant to other people, but enough to leave me depressed for a day or two.

Now, when these things come knocking on my door, I smile.

I have had many unfortunate encounters with fuck faces. One time, I dyed my hair blonde because I felt like it. Surprisingly, this made perverts think that my blonde hair is a free pass to a kinky fuckery. I would tell my boyfriend I’ve had enough, but then he would always counter my arguments with his favorite point: if you don’t want them to disrespect you, don’t dye your hair.

What the fuck, right? I wasn’t even baring my legs when an ugly old beast touched them in public because he was captivated by my ethereal beauty (LOL).

My boyfriend’s point: that’s just the way it is, there’s nothing you can do about it.

My point: fuck you all stupid creatures with a small hot dog between your legs.

I also used to share long posts on social media and write blog entries about stupid politicians who are too bad to be true. These people just can’t seem to understand that women are human too and killing innocent people is immoral. Tell me, reader, am I wrong to hate those politicians?

Here’s the thing: one day, I posted a 200-word Facebook status about this misogynist-slash-sexist-slash-immoral politician and my dad told me that I shouldn’t waste my time with those shits. That I was just stressing myself for stupid little reasons.

What the hell, right? I told him “okay” but I secretly hated him for being one of the reasons why this world sucks. If people would continue to ignore these “stupid little reasons” and let those monsters rule the world, we’re hopeless. We’re doomed.

My father’s point: that’s just the way it is, there’s nothing you can do about it.

My point: cowards should go to hell because their tiny minds will be of no use when the zombies come

And then there’s my best friend who lives on the other side of the globe. She’s my sistah from another mothah and she knows everything about me—yes, including my frustrations. Whenever depression swallows us whole, we find comfort in knowing that people do stupid things because, well, they’re stupid.

One day, she told me that I should not let those trivial things get the best of me. After all, intelligent people are land and idiots are water. No matter how we baby our idealist selves by dreaming about a goody goody world, intelligent people can never outnumber idiots.

My best friend’s point: that’s just the way it is, there’s nothing you can do about it.

My point: oh my gooood you’re right why didn’t u tell me this b4

There. Intelligent people are land, idiots are water—this changed my perspective in life. And judging by how things are going, I think that, as the saying goes, I know too much psychology because I now understand everyone’s reasons for doing everything. Big props to you, bestie.

This was originally published on Thought Catalog

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If You Want to Keep Me, Love Every Bit of Me Including My Anxiety (Published on Thought Catalog)

Me and my anxiety, we’re inseparable. It makes me do things I wouldn’t do under normal conditions. The thing is, my anxiety is so clingy it keeps squeezing itself into my daily routine. What was once an unusual feeling now became a norm. I become so used to it that I’m afraid it’s already part of who I am.

So I’m taking this chance to say sorry for all the things I did when I’m anxious. I just want you to bear this in mind: if you want to keep me, you need to love every bit of me including my anxiety.

I’m sorry I flooded your phone with messages when you forgot to text me last night. I was worried. The last time it happened, your phone got snatched from you. Can you blame me? I stayed up all night waiting for you. I wanted to hear from you, to know that you’re safe and sound. I’m sorry I worry too much. I guess that’s just the way I am.

Please bear with me if I say I love you too often. I know I can be annoying at times, but let me tell you this: the reason why my love for you is so big is because I know the world may end any moment and if I were to die, I would find comfort in knowing that the last words I uttered were “I love you.” I’m sorry I’m too sentimental. Perhaps I was born that way.

Forgive me for being such a pessimist. I always expect the worst. Disappointments trigger my depression and expecting the worst case scenarios prepares me for what’s ahead.

I’m sorry for always imagining that we won’t end up together. That’s my worst nightmare, do you know that? There are days when I talk about our future without the other and I only ask that you bear with me whenever this happens. If we’re breaking up soon, at least I’m ready. I’m sorry for making you listen to my negative thoughts, but I just can’t help it. My mind simply won’t cooperate.

Trust me: you may not see it yet, but I’m trying to fight it.

I only ask that you don’t mistake my anxiety for being crazy, needy, or clingy—I am far from those things. If you just learn to love me for who I am, you’ll see that I am more than just an anxious girlfriend.

I am more than my anxiety.

This was originally published on Thought Catalog

When I Ran Out of Courage to Keep Fighting, I Wrote My Way Through Depression (Published on Thought Catalog)

Last month was the worst.

Every night, I would try to shut my brain for the day and tell myself tomorrow is another day. Unfortunately, as if the Great Universe conspired to bully me and belittle my battleground skills, unwanted thoughts would always get in the way.

I would take a deep breath, stare at the ceiling, try to fight the pain, but the demons would always win. I always came into the battlefield defenseless, but I was never hopeless. Hope is the only anchor that keeps me alive.

And then I would wake up feeling empty, like there’s a hole in my chest that I can’t explain. I won’t tell you about the hell I went through, but if you’re a girl who always get catcalled slash poor writer slash anxious, you’ll get the picture. To say that I couldn’t find the motivation to get out of bed was an understatement. Long ago, I started to accept that perhaps I am an eternally lazy human being. But I was far from that–my family and co-workers can attest to that. As the symptoms became crystal clear, I found out that I’ve always been depressed.

Because when you can’t find a reason to go on, would you even want to face the world? Or worse, get out of bed to do the same old things? Work like a robot in the office, go home, try to sleep, repeat until dead.

I could try to talk with my best friend who lives on the other side of the globe, but we both know that trying to comfort each other through the screens of our phones is not a permanent cure. We can’t be physically there for each other, after all. I can hear Taylor Swift whispering in my ears: bandaids don’t fix bullet holes, bitch.

When the pain becomes unbearable to the point that my eyes become watery and it becomes even more difficult to breathe for no apparent reason, I would console myself by putting my emotion into words.

I won’t care if my sentence construction, grammar, and punctuation marks are correct. As a writer, you would expect me to become conscious of those rules, but when it comes to writing my pain, those shits don’t exist. I would let the words flow non-stop as if my life depended on them and I won’t stop until the tears aren’t there anymore and my breathing becomes normal again. Funnily enough, I even had the guts to submit those writeups to several platforms. That’s what happens when you’re depressed–you’re vulnerable and yo do crazy things you wouldn’t even consider doing in the first place when you’re fine. And then it dawned on me:

Last month was one of the best.

Looking back, I realized that despite being the worst month of my life, March has also been one of the best. I even wrote a blog post about thanking the Great Universe for all the wonderful things that took place last month and to be honest, I almost forgot about the days I cried in public and nights I fought the monsters inside my head when I realized that. All 11 writeups I submitted was published on those platforms, and I couldn’t find the right words to describe what I felt when I realized this.

At the times when I couldn’t find the courage to keep fighting, I wrote my way through depression. Writing has always been my therapy and it hasn’t failed me ever since I published my first post in my personal blog. I’ve always known this, but I never knew that it could help me overcome the worst month of my life. And boy, what a month.

I welcomed April praying that this feeling wasn’t just the Great Universe’s way of fooling me. And even if it was, I know what to do now. If the monsters were to come to my door again (which is very likely), I’d turn my depression into art and hold on to the belief that if writing saved me last time, it would keep me sane today and for the rest of my life.

(This was originally published on Thought Catalog)

13 Reasons Why I’m Not Taking Any of Your Opinions (Published on Candy Mag)

Unless you’re living under a rock, you’ve probably heard of the popular Netflix series 13 Reasons Why. Lately, I’ve been seeing a lot of hate comments about the show all over the internet. And because we are all entitled to voice out our opinion, I listed the 13 reasons why I don’t understand all the hate.

  1. Mental illness is not one of those “stupid little reasons.”

Taking away your life because you were raped and bullied or because depression consumed your whole being is not a stupid little reason. You know what’s a stupid little reason? Hating on the show just because you don’t understand it.

  1. Not everyone who watches the show watches it just because.

Let’s face it, most viewers started watching it because it trended and got on their radar. And there’s nothing wrong with that. TBH, Netflix should thank them for creating buzz on social media. On the other hand, other people watch the show because they can relate to it or they find the story interesting and comforting. No need to judge people for their reasons.

  1. Talking about your struggles openly doesn’t mean you’re romanticizing them.

While it’s true that the less you talk about your problems, the less anxious you get, it is never right to say that a person who openly talks about his problems is glorifying them. Been there, done that.

As a person who’s been through depression and anxiety, I find comfort in putting my emotions and thoughts into words. Whenever the monsters would come knocking on my door, I’d grab my phone or laptop and write what I feel. This process helps me heal. So if you think writing or talking about depression or suicide means we’re romanticizing mental illness, unfollow or unfriend us on social media, filter the posts that you see on your feed, and just leave us be.

  1. If you hate the show, do yourself a favor and stop watching it.

If you hate the show, that’s okay. We can’t (and shouldn’t) force anyone to fall head over heels for the series in the same way that you can’t (and shouldn’t) force anyone to hate it the same way you do.

  1. If you hate the show, don’t hate people who like it.

You know what they say, you know too much psychology when you can’t get mad because you understand everyone’s reasons for doing everything.

  1. If you hate the show, you’re free to voice out your thoughts but be open to other people’s opinions, too.

Because unless you’re willing to listen to our thoughts, we won’t listen to yours.

  1. Do not assume that you know how other people feel.

You think you know what it feels like to be raped, bullied, and depressed? Even if you went through the same hell as these people, remember that each battle is unique and your story isn’t a snapshot of theirs. If you can handle things on your own now after going through these things, we’re happy for you. However, never assume that you know how other people feel and what they’ve been through.

  1. Don’t be a know-it-all.

Unless you’re this omnipresent and omnipotent greater being, nailing your exams or graduating with flying colors does not give you a free pass to assuming that you know everything. If you’re voicing out your opinions online (or literally anywhere), don’t be a know-it-all because chances are, you don’t know it all.

  1. Don’t belittle the battles of others.

So this one girl took her own life because her boyfriend dated another girl and you judged her for having that reason for committing suicide? While you are a pseudo-intellectual who can handle yourself so perfectly well, you have to accept the fact that you don’t know the whole story and that you don’t know what she’s been through.

 

  1. Do not say that other people have it worse.

Dealing with mental illness is no joke. When you say that other people have it worse, you’re just making matters worse. It’s like saying they have to thank the gods because these battles are a no-brainer.

Belittling other people’s battles won’t make them feel better. It’s like saying they need to grow up and get a life instead of wallowing in self-pity or depressing thoughts, which is hard to do if you ask me. And while I’m willing to write about their struggles, there’s no use unless you open your mind and remove your prejudices first.

  1. Just because you’re strong doesn’t mean they can be, too.

Consider these points: you all grew up under different settings. And while you may have the same mental illness, your experiences and struggles are unique. If you can manage to wake up early in the morning and go to work on time while dealing with depression, there are others who can’t even find the strength to get out of bed.

Don’t even think they’re lazy. Sometimes, they can’t find a reason to wake up at all. Because when everything around you is chaotic, no one understands, and you can’t find your purpose, the last thing you’ll want to do is get out of bed. TBH, when you are at your most vulnerable and you begin thinking about giving up the fight, it’s even harder to see the light.

  1. Don’t miss the whole point of the series.

Obviously, the point of the series is to spread awareness about mental health. The production team wants us to realize that sometimes, we do things subconsciously that hurt other people.

They want us to be kind to one another because we have no idea what’s going on with other people’s lives.

In a time where more and more teens are committing suicide, what we need is to be reminded of our responsibility to be kind to one another. If we can’t be there for them to lift them up at times of need, we can at least avoid making things worse for them.

  1. You may be one of the reasons why.

You want to know the truth? It’s because of careless people that more and more people, teenagers especially, are taking their own lives. I don’t understand why you need to insist that they are weak, that they’re making a big deal out of the stupidest reasons, and that they need to be thankful because some people have it worse.

Instead of judging them for having suicidal tendencies, the least you can do is to stop commenting on social media about them. Please stop spreading hate. Until you do that, there’s a big chance you’re one of the reasons why.

(This was originally published on Candy Magazine)