I used to write in some previous post that I’ve had anxiety and depression but I never tell the full detail about it. So this post, I will tell you about it. (Warning : a long post!) It has been 3 years since I have been dealing with depression and anxiety. To look back at it, I’m glad that I can make it this far.
It started with a single problem which my mind didn’t know how to cope with that. It became sorrow. It became sadness. It became darker.
It was collapsing…
Back in 2014, I had a very happy normal life, I was about to graduate from a college. I got 2nd class honors. Everything was good. I was thinking I wanted to study abroad and it suddenly changed because of my dad, he was not very well at that time, he had heart disease, he got diabetes and his kidneys were about to fail so my mom wanted me to move from Bangkok and went back to him at other city and she wanted me to help his work. But, I graduated in art faculty not in engineering faculty. She begged me for it, so we surrendered.
When we moved to my dad’s house, I was not happy at all. I was suffering slowly. But I fixed it by telling myself; it would be fine, I could endure this. Repeatedly. Several times. By the way, my dad and I weren’t close together. I barely spoke to him because I didn’t know what to say and he knew that. He didn’t raise me when I was a kid, I only knew he was a workaholic man. So I barely had any memory with him. And my mom, she loved my dad so much even though he had another woman. I still didn’t understand why she loved him so much. And when we lived with him, he didn’t care about is so much unliked my mom cared him. I thought why were we supposed to be here? If he didn’t give a sh*t about us. So, that was one of the problems and it was a small part of why I got depression and anxiety.
I started to work in my dad’s factory with no knowledge of anything in there and my dad didn’t tell me anything about his work because he thought I couldn’t do his job so everyday when I entered to his office that means I officially had nothing to do. I endured it, and thinking what the hell was I doing here, this was wasting my time. I tried to talk with my mom but she didn’t want to loose this factory to somebody else so she said if he didn’t teach me about his work then just trying to ask him and learn from him – I hated this so much talking is easier than doing, you know? But I was not the only one who was dragged into this, my brother-in-law as well. Along the way, we had been figuring out how to learn my dad’s job and how to manage it. I barely talked to my brother-in-law before so after this situation we talked together much more and he was the part of what I had become.
After one year of spending my life in my dad’s factory, lots of things happened. I cannot handle them all. I didn’t know how to solve them and I couldn’t cry out for help so these things mixed together until one point, my mind was broken. I remembered one day I woke up at 3am and started crying and I cried all day, it didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop then I noticed something has changed, I barely ate, I slept longer, I couldn’t focus on anything, I forgot a lot and I couldn’t do of what I love which is drawing, painting or even playing games. That’s why I knew something was wrong. I needed help but my family wasn’t the choice so I called to a hospital and told them I needed a psychiatrist.
This was the first time I needed the psychiatrist, I never expected that before. In Thailand, when people need psychiatrist they will think you’re crazy. Luckily, in current situation, Thai people know more about depression and they’re aware of it which is good. When I see a psychiatrist, I told them about what I had been through and he ascribed me that I got anxiety and I nearly got depression. He guided me first to cure myself without any medicine, he said if I was treated by medication first then he had to cure me from it again so if it’s not necessary he won’t choose this way for me. It was good, you know. To have someone listened to your story and help you but things didn’t go that way, I faced something even worse. I went to see the psychiatrist again and he said now you really got depression and you needed some medicine now.
Since then, I have lived with depression and anxiety for 3 years. Along the way, I still faced the worst things. I was thinking about dying every time but I couldn’t do it. I still have something to do. I didn’t want to give up. I told myself I want to happy. Why is it so hard for me to be happy? – this was the question I asked myself when I was fighting with depression and anxiety. It was so hard at that time. It was like living in hell which is now I don’t want to be like that again. By the way, I had to see 2 psychiatrists every week for 2 years, the 3rd year was alright I saw them less as they told me I was getting better. (I skip the treatment part because it makes this post even longer.)
Now, I got better but it still affects me. I still forget things, but my memory is getting better and I can draw again just a little which is good. I don’t cry like before. I don’t need any medicine anymore. I don’t have to see the psychiatrist. (I hope in the future I will stay in this way.) If there aren’t some specific things trigger me, then I will be ok. Right now, I’m quite ok about my life. I try to seek for happiness, you know? I try to change or adapt things. I try to to create something just like before when I study in art college even it doesn’t make any progress, but I’ll try.
Well, that’s my story. Thank you so much for reading such a long post. I appreciate that.