Click and make a difference!

For those who do not have enough money to donate to charities or spare time or disposition to be a volunteer, you can still help! Here is where you can go and make a change by clicking and petitioning:

Food and Water Watch
Care2
Change
Petition Online
iPetition
Clean Breath
Search Kindly (For searching the web)
Bhookh
Free Rice 

There are so many MORE sites to go to and click! Mark them as favourites and spend 2 minutes everyday clicking to make the world a better place. 🙂

What is depression?

This is the best compressed explanation I’ve ever seen, so I wanted to share. I found it on Tumblr, but didn’t manage to find the original source. If you’ve never been through depression, you’ll never truly know what’s it’s like to be depressed, but maybe – just maybe – this’ll give you an idea:

“Depression is humiliating. It turns intelligent, kind people into zombies who can’t wash a dish or change their socks. It affects the ability to think clearly, to feel anything, to ascribe value to your children, your lifelong passions, your relative good fortune. It scoops out your normal healthy ability to cope with bad days and bad news, and replaces it with an unrecognisable sludge that finds no pleasure, no delight, no point in anything outside of bed. You alienate your friends because you can’t comport yourself socially, you risk your job because you can’t concentrate, you live in moderate squalor because you have no energy to stand up, let alone take out the garbage. You become pathetic and you know it. And you have no capacity to stop the downward plunge. You have no perspective, no emotional reserves, no faith that it will get better. So you feel guilty and ashamed of your inability to deal with life like a regular human, which exacerbates the depression and the isolation. If you’ve never been depressed, thank your lucky stars and back off the folks who take a pill so they can make eye contact with the grocery store cashier. No one on earth would choose the nightmare of depression over an averagely turbulent normal life.

It’s not an incapacity to cope with day to day living in the modern world. It’s an incapacity to function. At all. If you and your loved ones have been spared, every blessing to you. If depression has taken root in you or your loved ones, every blessing to you, too. No one chooses it. No one deserves it. It runs in families, it ruins families. You cannot imagine what it takes to feign normalcy, to show up to work, to make a dentist appointment, to pay bills, to walk your dog, to return library books on time, to keep enough toilet paper on hand, when you are exerting most of your capacity on trying not to kill yourself. Depression is real. Just because you’ve never had it doesn’t make it imaginary. Compassion is also real. And a depressed person may cling desperately to it until they are out of the woods and they may remember your compassion for the rest of their lives as a force greater than their depression. Have a heart. Judge not lest ye be judged.

In other words:
1. Depressed people are sick, not stupid.
2. Depressed people need help, not judgement.
3. Depression isn’t chosen.
4. Depression isn’t a phase.

Chapter 1

This is a part of the first chapter of my book – that is, a book I want to write. I appreciate any type of comments on it. I intend to write it for people who want to understand a little bit of what goes through a person’s head when they suffer from depression, panic attacks, paranoia, ocd, autophagia, nightmare disorder¹, amnesia, grief, perfectionism, melancholia, insomnia, ednos, borderline personality, bipolarity, claustrophobia,  hypochondria, nosophobia, schizophrenia, avoidant personality, delusional disorder, bibliomania, agoraphobia and basically a bit of a lot of mental illnesses all combined.

Based on true facts (my personal experience – yes, I’ve had all the ones cited above and probably other ones I’ve forgotten to write, some more intense than others, of course). I believe God has allowed me to go through all this to help others, since I truly know what it feels like to be how they are. They are all horrific states to be in. I don’t wish for anybody to suffer from any of the symptoms I did and weep for those who do. My prayers go out to all of you who have experienced these terrible things. I’d love to help you, so please feel free to talk to me about it. I’m almost completely recovered, and you can join me on this journey towards true freedom.

I also want to write this so that people may know that there is always hope for the broken-hearted – no matter how lost they are – and that, with God’s help, recovery is possible!

 

*TRIGGER WARNING* – PLEASE DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER IF YOU HAVE TROUBLE WITH TRIGGERING CONTENTS.

Usually people like ending books with “and then I woke up” to surprise its reader, because the story was about a dream or nightmare. But, this narrative is quite the opposite. In fact, it starts like that.

CHAPTER 1

…and then I woke up.

Damn. I shouldn’t have. I would rather live dreaming. However, I don’t have a choice, do I? The real world awaits. Although trances are ten times more preferable than having the most boring monster of all times – routine – as a 24/7 cohort, the thought of getting stuck in a random daze in the wrong place and at the wrong time causes apprehension.

The non-sleeping life is all about planning schedules, writing them down on a paper or in your head and following its policy. Truth has to be told: the reason this is done is not to guide ourselves – it is rather to control how much time we have wasted and how much we failed by not achieving the procedure. In other words, it’s a pessimist’s way of dealing with optimism, because, to them, hope is a risky inclination they avoid to fall for.

Considering the act of being hopeful as the opposite of worrying, anxiety is faith’s antonym. The uneasy feeling people have about the past being gone, the present being now and the future becoming present and past so rapidly, has to do with lacking hope to pursue steady life-goals. The inner agitations, caused by these thoughts, create fear, and fear has a funny way of ruining everything. In fact, it’s such a funny way that’s it’s not funny at all. It’s as cruel and atrocious as the irony of the deep pleasure of having doves eat out of your hand while scratching your arm brutally until it bleeds and all the food is gone. While you stand there, static, with blood dripping from your body, you inhale the pain and smile widely, forgetting to blink once in a while. You always relive that moment in slow motion when fear passes by and welcome it once again – sometimes by just biting your lips and trenching your teeth, other times by grabbing a pointy object and sliding it across your body.

In order to understand how to deal with situations like these, it is important to understand what fear is. First of all, it must not be seen as something bad, because it is one of the various emotions humans feel to facilitate one’s awareness of a potential threat.

(…)

nightmare disorder¹ – evolved after some time, and I’ve had it for almost 3 years. The book will not mention it in the first chapter, explaining why the narrator (me) still liked sleeping.

I dreamt with you again.

I like hanging out with you over there, where we can talk, I can tell you my inmost secrets, you can tell me how your life is going and compare what has changed and what hasn’t. I like it how you always listen to my stories and thoughts without interrupting me and make me feel good. I like your patience with me and your sincere hugs. It’s incredible how just seeing you makes me happy, how your smile hasn’t changed after all these years and how much love I have for who you are. You’ve always helped me so much. You’ve always been there when nobody else was. Thank you.

Last night, in my dream, I told you I was going to marry next year. You got surprised, then hugged me and said, “Wow!” Looking into the horizon you smiled and I smiled with you. You said it was amazing how things had changed and I had grown into such a lovely woman, making me blush. “He’s lovely. You’d like him”, I said. “I’m sure,” you said, “you’ve always been very cautious with your choices.” We laughed together and I felt at peace.

Although we’ve talked on the phone 2 years ago and you’ve sent me chocolate, I haven’t seen you in 10 years. You must be in your forties already and my respect for you only grows. I hope I’ll get to see you again someday. You, your wife and your kids. They must be so lovely! They have a wonderful Father.

I’m sorry for sometimes calling you, “Daddy” in class. I understand that, as a teacher, it must have been embarrassing for you. But it wasn’t on purpose that I did that. I guess it was because my inner self was very, very fond of your character. You were the “man of my life” and my hero – emotionally substituting my biological Dad that I seldom got to see and be with. To me, you’ve been and are more important than you know.

I miss playing and singing with you. I miss you’re encouraging words and your voice. I miss going out with you, watching films and playing instruments. I even miss doing school work with you and you giving me exams and telling me how awesome I went. But, most of all, I miss you. I truly hope you are well.

Act fast.

She knew what would
happen.
That didn’t change
what she would
do.

The thoughts were rushing
now.
So fastly that
they stopped.

Nothing was left except
the option
that poured itself
against her
mind.

The consequences
would hurt.
Hurt like fire.
Hurt like rain.

For it’s not only bad
when it burns –
When it’s wet
it’s just as
evil.

Except it’s masked
in a perfect
disguise
she wouldn’t fall for
any more.

Too many times before.
In the past.
In the future.

But in the present, no!
This time she was
convinced.

That is was air
she was
breathing;

Lacking.

And it was blood
she was
seeing;

Smelling.

Quickly now.
There’s no more time.
There’s no more
time.

Run!

Die.

18-05-11

Sunday night. Back from church.

“You can go ahead, honey. I don’t feel like sleeping yet”, he said, while taking off his coat. “But I’ll miss you”, she said, pulling him by his hand. Feeling his mind was wondering about something that had nothing to do with the her words and not getting the eye contact she wanted, she sighed, let go of him and added, “Try not staying up too late.” Hayley put on the grey vintage pyjamas she won as a wedding present from her cousin, brushed her teeth and smiled remembering the wonderful honeymoon she had with her husband 8 months ago, wishing she could go back in time and relive those golden days. Everything seemed so different now, but maybe that was normal. After all, she thought to herself, relationships shouldn’t be based in sexual romance, and she should be grateful her companion realised that too. Kyle was in the living-room, sitting on his favourite chair. His thick brown hair covered one eye while the other was fixed on the laptop screen. “Hot babes” was typed on a search page and his usual Sunday night porn tour had begun. Click. It’s just one after all. Click. Just a few. Click. Faster breaths. Click. Legs more apart. Click. Muscle tension. Click. Swallow. Click. Self control. Click. Hands sweating. Click. 2 o’clock. Click. Click. Click. Click click click click click… “Kyle?” Puffing. “Kyle!” He turns around. “I can’t sleep,” Hayley said, dragging a pillow on the floor. She gets closer and sees Kyle’s tears. “Sweetie, what’s wrong?” Kyle stops her from hugging him and maximizes his web page. A picture of a naked woman in a sensual pose appears. “This. THIS is wrong!” Kyle cries. “This woman. These women! This is so stupid! I’M so stupid! I don’t understand!” Hayley just stood there, paralysed, looking at the screen. “Hayley, I love you. Will you ever forgive me?” “How long?” “How long what?” “For how long have you been doing this?” “I’m sorry.” “HOW LONG?” “Every Sunday night… about 4 months ago I think. I’m not sure… I…” “Goodbye, Kyle.” “Hayley, no! Wait!” She rushed off out of the house’s front door and ran desperately in hope of a solution, only stopping at an old rusted window to look at her reflection. “Hayley! Please!” Kyle’s voice echoed in the road. He was at the other side of it and ran towards her. He knelt down and hugged her legs while she stayed in silent. The cold wind cut their faces and sent Hayley to the ground. “Leave me alone!”, she cried, “I hate you!” But Kyle just held on tighter.

(…)

So, I was going to make a short story out of this, but have just realised it’d take several of pages to write what’s happened to both of them, that would explain when Kyle’s addiction to porn started and how Hayley lived and regained hope in true love after the incident. I’ll leave it up to you to imagine the rest of the drama and think about this issue. Have fun! 🙂

Oh, and by the way, it’s a fact that Sunday night is the time that most people look at porn. Right after going to a church meeting, yes. For those who’d like to know more about the subject, are struggling with it or knows someone that is and would like to help them, take a look at this site: xxxchurch

“If your right eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell.” – Matthew 5:29

“And if your eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to enter life with one eye than to have two eyes and be thrown into the fire of hell.” – Matthew 18:9

“And if your eye causes you to sin, pluck it out. It is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and be thrown into hell,” – Mark 9:47