Today is my birthday. A big whoop for me. No seriously, a big whoop for surviving another year. I should be grateful. As I am getting older, I feel I deserve to be honest, at least to myself. I mean, nobody is going to read this blog, so I can say what I want. I want to talk about depression. Yay, that happy subject. I always find it hard to talk about depression without there being somebody giving unsolicited advice or dropping everything to be by my side. That’s not what I need. I am not that kind of lonely. I prefer to figure it out myself than to offload to the nearest poor soul and chew their ears off. I roll up my sleeves and try to figure out what in seven hells is triggering me. Is it food? is it the weather? is it somebody? is it my job? What is it?! I become my own psychiatrist and navigate my feelings like I am in a questionnaire maze. I do it best in my car, on my way home from work. That time of day, my feelings are its worst.

There are two major issues that contribute to my lovely depressing state of mind: disconnection and death. I fear death. Not of dying, but of losing my closed ones to death. I accept it is a cycle of life and its inevitable, but I worry how I will cope. I believe grief would make me become more isolated and lonelier than ever. About disconnection – it is so normal to be lonely amongst friends and family; especially if you are emotionally miles away from them. Nowadays, people are so busy with their lives that they haven’t got the time to connect with another person in person. Nobody smiles. Nobody says hello. It can be such an invisible feeling.

I do feel we need to make a conscious effort to impart human kindness. Nobody is going to tell you what they are going through, but a smile and a hello would make them feel they are not invisible. Don’t let them drive home in that state.

As for me, depression is like ocean waves. It comes and goes. At the start of this blog, I was feeling down and now I feel a bit better. Writing is incredibly therapeutic. I feel I can express myself better when I write down my feelings. I know each time when a bout of depression hits, I would either talk myself through it or pen it down.

In the wise words of Jerry Springer, until next time, take care of yourself and each other.

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