|Photo by Babeth Lolarga|
I have tried to make the most of those days whether sunny or un-. When the internal weather was a bit rough in March and April, a friend in the thickets of Quezon City walked me through it by suggesting ways I could distract myself: view no-brainer comic flicks, view pleasant scenes (virtual or real), eat healthy, get sunshine. She specifically recommended this action: "Go to my views of flowers and elegant, cool living rooms from Provence!" Thank you, G. Now I have bouquets of all-occasion lilies of the valley, lilacs and lavenders to send to other friends who need similar cheering up.
This has been the same advice that I've also given friends who find themselves in some kind of dungeon with hardly a glimmer of light. These gray weeks can go on and on indefinitely as though an internal switch had been turned off and along with it, one's zest for life. It feels like my capacity for joy, even in the littlest things, has been kidnapped and held for a high ransom somewhere far away. By coincidence, an electronic device like the handy mobile phone picks up these signals and goes dead on me and my contacts are completely erased, as though to heighten the sense of isolation. This has happened more than once.
The repetition of the phrase "This, too, shall pass" somehow helps along with a quietly supportive family. Many others have written and said it is not shameful to seek professional help for this condition, no matter that the professionals themselves are engaged in an ongoing debate on re-definitions and exclusions of certain disorders in the latest edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders.
At some point, the cloud of mood disorder will lift, almost unexpectedly. This latest experience has shown me that my interest and involvement in life always returns. Again there is joy despite the earlier "havoc". Feel blessed for surviving it once more.
|Poster and quote found in the popular section of Pinterest.com|