Too Deep in What is Only Shallow Water
I care deeply about the wellness of people’s lives and how the act of simply talking and truly caring about someone can potentially save other’s lives.
My first real art lesson was when my father taught me how draw a rose using basic shapes and shading. I don’t exactly remember my dad when I was little except that he was a really jolly fellow and as round as Santa. But today I’m really glad that I got my creativity and corny humor from him. My father had always prompted me to be creative and that was one of the greatest gifts he had left me with.
When I was in 6th grade and only 11 years old he passed away all too suddenly. I had arrive at the hospital the day he died from kidney problems and there were no last “I love yous” or “I’m proud of you.” I wanted to be strong, I wanted straight A’s and I wanted to do it all for my dad. This was my way of thinking that temporarily helped me to survive my 3 years in middle school. But the years of denial and the bottling in of my emotions caught up to me and strangled my health. I needed help but I wasn’t conditioned to ask for anything. In my graduating year in 8th grade I wasn’t only struggling with delayed grieving of my father but I was also having extreme difficulty making speeches as the student body president and preparing for the 8th grade oral presentation all at once.
Just when I thought things were already bad I started to lose my appetite and sleep. This unhealthy behavior continued for three days. I was going through my first episode. lost all control of my decision making and it felt like I was on a roller coaster. When I was high and manic I had euphoric ideologies and philosophical epiphanies. On the other hand, when I was down and feeling very depressed I started to think that the world was against me and that I had surely met the lowest point in my life.
Luckily I have met my doctor who diagnosed me with bipolar disorder. I am very blessed that he has also helped me find healthier coping mechanisms to deal with stress too. And to have the most amazing support from my family, friends, and teachers.
But of course after treatment one might think that everything works out well and life will start to go uphill from then out. If only that were the case but unfortunately it isn’t. The truth is is that life has it’s ups and downs and that life isn’t perfect. There are times in my life in fact years after getting treatment that I have felt sad again. And I have asked God many times why me? And how come I’m not fixed yet? Am I meant to suffer? There were many times when I wondered what happiness is because I just couldn’t feel it. Despite having the sad thoughts there was a point when I just got tired of being depressed.
Then I realized that I have the power to turn it around. I strive to live in the moment now and after every fall I am willing to get back up. I believe that everyone has the potential to find wellness despite their traumatic events too. And by sharing my story I hope it may shed light on those who are struggling through same or similar situations as I have had and potentially help break down the stigma of mental illness.
