BIPOLAR DISORDER AND DEATH (remove first three words)
With all the healthy, normal and
functional neurons I have, I wish to talk about bipolar disorder. But this was three days ago. I guess all my neurons and even
my other cells are starting to expire
that even my soul can disagree no more.
How am I going to describe how I
feel with words deprived from careful word choice? I am so thin like I’m gonna be a perfect instructional material for
skeletal system. Everything hurts especially
my throat, chest and head. I cannot
stand for more than five minutes so I just lie on my bed and suffer from another
death-infested sleep. It’s as if the world’s turning upside down where my head’s
hanging on an oak tree. I cannot breathe. I cannot hear. I cannot taste. I go to the comfort room for shameless expulsion. I cannot do anything not even my lessons
because I either doze off or have headache attacks . I cannot think. How can I
teach effectively when I cannot think?
Thursday this week, I met my
students for the second semester. Everything was going well in the morning but
in the afternoon, especially on my last period, I couldn’t muster strength to
explain nor to stop them from misbehaving. The next day, I had to take a leave
until this day. So far, I got salary deduction for three days. That’s why I don’t
want to be confined in the hospital because I won’t have savings left. I know I
have to go but my dreams are more important than this. It’s so funny that I remember
saying to my class “I am not afraid to die.” But I’ve realized that when you
feel like you’re almost on the brink of death, you become regretful of the
things you did not do and the things that you wished for.
I remember those I’ve hurt but
did not manage to ask for forgiveness. I remember not being competitive enough,
for not trying to win over myself, for being mediocre, for not being on top because
of my laziness and growing boredom of academics and ranking. I know I can do
better but I lack confidence and motivation. I even stopped from writing my
thesis proposal. remember being carefree and spontaneous all the time that I lost
track where I really wanted to go. I was
too happy. I spent my weekends swimming, trekking, driving, chatting nonstop,
eating, roaming , reading literature, blogging, painting – yes, these are all
wonderful but are these really necessary? I remember being insensitive to my health
conditions; I remember my waning faith in God, of not attending mass every Sunday, of not praying,
of not doing good deeds, of not believing that He will heal me.
Death. I remember
riding on that boat during a stormy weather but managed to survive. I remember
having that cramps while swimming but managed to swim back before losing my
last breath. I remember those nights I could barely breathe because of unknown
reasons. I remember how my heart suddenly fluctuates though I am just sitting
and looking at the stars. I remember being harassed because of my desire to go for an adventure. I remember almost fainting because of intense workout
and kill-all diet. I remember having my class but it’s like I was sucked by a blackhole
but still, I managed to smile. I remember almost killing myself in a motorcycle accident. I remember making my body suffer like not taking my
medicines, not sleeping for 8 hours and not eating. I remember my mood swings in
high school and college. Maybe, I had bipolar (that will be discussed if ever I
get well). I remember how brave I was, how ready I was. But now, I do not
remember how to be that person again.
According to Norman Cousins, “Death is not the greatest loss
in life. The greatest loss is what died inside us while we live."
If that’s true, then I am good as dead.
