The Gift of Merci

Chapter 8 - Why Does Sadness Override Efforts to Stay Happy?

You know, it's not always an uphill battle. Sometimes I'm in a valley. The land is flat and easy to navigate; the grass is soft beneath my feet. And sometimes I'm in the sky, floating on cotton balls in the baby blue. It's not always bad. Most of the time, I'm happy. I guess compared to how things used to be, there isn't much to be unhappy about—at least when I'm removed from the noise.

But sometimes the clouds sink and the valleys end. Storms begin and I'm climbing mountains. These are the times I'm left in thickets and thorn bushes, bruised and broken, scraped and scarred. I feel alone in these moments. My mind is noisy but my heart is empty. People reach out but I push them away. I promise you, it's not because of you. Ironically, the lonelier I feel, the more I isolate myself. It doesn't make sense, I know. But this sadness leaves me drained. It leaves me exhausted. Sometimes I can't leave my bed all day. Sometimes I can but all I can manage is a shower. Sometimes I manage to get outside, but after a short 30 minutes, it feels like I haven't slept for days and I'm left exhausted.

I'm not 25 yet, but it feels like I have been for a while. The friends I'd gone to school with for years are finally starting to celebrate the big two-zero, and I've always seen us as on the same playing field—when they started second grade, so did I. When they graduated high school, so did I. When they started their careers, so did I. When they turned 20, in some ways, so did I.

I don't know if I'm disappointed or not.

A while ago, my sibling saw me crying. And I said every inch of thoughts that's bothering me.

"I am trying so hard. I can't think properly but I have to do my tasks anyway. I want to rest but I can't sleep because of anxiety,"

You know what he said?

"Just try to gush it off. Exercise!" But that's not easy

I'm too tired to function. I'm too sad. But please, reach out. Say hi. I'll try to do the same. If I'm distant or unresponsive, I'm sorry. It's not me. It's the monster that's consumed me. It's hard for me when I get to this point. At first, I'm in denial. I think, "I can't be sinking again. I've worked so hard to be happy. I know how to be happy. My mind knows how to work properly. I'll be okay."

But I'm not. No matter how much I try, no matter how long it's been, the gears get stuck and don't work properly. The first symptom is usually the exhaustion. I wonder why I'm so tired. "I don't do much, so why do I feel burned out?" And then it's the lack of desire and motivation to see anyone or do anything. And then I realize it. It's back. Then the anger starts. The thoughts rumble. My mind is a mess, and I feel so misunderstood and frustrated. I'm annoyed and angry at everyone and everything for no reason. I cry a lot and break down quite often. I can't control it, even when I try.

— I am sorry I made you angry again. I will try to be happy.