There, I finally done it. I went to see a shrink for some professional help to get the depression off me. I had known for months now that I am suffering that inability to be alive among the living. Fearing it would rain I took that fateful journey by car and reached the University Malaya Medical Centre before 2pm. I lost my way but somehow managed to compose myself enough to find the psychiatric ward and informed the receptionist in regards to my appointment. As I waited for my turn, I realised I was seated in a company of people who seemed to have some manic disorders and uncontrollable behaviour patterns. I, the supposedly depressed one sat quietly on the chair, as I ponder over my own insanity.
When I entered the clinic room, a jovial Punjabi psychiatrist greeted me. As she started to ask me some personal questions, I had the sudden surge of emotions and burst into tears. It was because I know I am a total wreckage, which was why I came all the way to see a psychiatrist, and I explained to her the aspects of my life I had trouble controlling, from the over-flooding of memories to my heart and the sad songs that kept rerunning through my mind. I knew this is going to be the start of a long term solution. I knew I have to take practical steps; not only relying on a prayer to Christ, and not listening to friends pep-talk that includes total rejection that I have a problem, to being victimized as a victim.
Somehow depression is a very misunderstood condition. People do not seem to understand it. And no one in my circle feels it is something valid. Some of my friends also believe I am just making a big issue of myself being a victim and calls it rubbish. It is so unfortunate that they really do not know how I feel inside and how torn I am. Some just keep on hurting me in the guise of “constructive talk” but with accusing words that refuse to acknowledge my condition and even continue treating it very lightly.
But I do not wish anything else for people anymore if really they do not care and dismiss my person, only I alone know myself and what I am facing. I just want to sleep. I wish to be happy. I need to feel my worth. I hope to love myself. I am tired of waking up more than 10 times a night having the deafening silence haunting me, and some songs resounding in my ears. I am frustrated at my inability to focus even when I am driving. I am so sad that I would honestly say if it were not for the love and support of my true friends I would have taken my life. It is their care and concern for me that I know I owe it to them to keep going. This was echoed by the psychiatrist who seemed to see through me. It was like she already knew that most people are being negative and mean towards me and the struggles I have.
So I am now taking the anti-depressant called “Lexapro” which the kind psychiatrist prescribed to me. I do know I am in it for real now. I always fear the side effects and the withdrawal symptoms that would hit me when I stop taking it after my clinical observation is over. I took it for a good few days and it came with the good and the bad stuff. The bad of course is the feeling of nothingness and the sudden sense of emotion jerks to the comfortable numbness when I streak with my car on the road, along with dizziness that sometimes attack me. The good is that I can sense myself being abducted by aliens when I sleep, and only woke up a few times in a night but still in peace. There is a strange calm that reside in me when I go outside, with it much more composed emotions.
When I check back the slip I realised I am going to be on this medication for one year. So far I have slept early and woke up in the morning sans most of the painful memories I endured for years. I also realised that all my extreme feelings like anger resided with ease. There was an issue I faced with a friend on Wednesday evening that went by my head so fast that I can focus properly on what I can do on Thursday. And that was to start my new job (now you know why I have been quiet on cyberspace). So at least the 10mg of Lexapro could lock up for the time being the immense pain while I can concentrate on important matters, that is to continue climbing back up the pit I fell into. Also to stop being hard on myself and avoid people who are negative. I know some of my friends would still think there is no such thing as depression in me. But at least I know I can still count on professional help to reach that frame of mind.