I was born on Independence Day, a day of freedom for the rest of the Filipinos, yet ironically I spend years wondering when I would be free – from pains, insecurities, worries, and fears.

I was an achiever growing up. On the outside, everything seemed smooth and perfect. I excelled in different fields: academics, journalism, dancing, sports, and was even elected as a muse. I received a lot of praises, but felt that in every praise I received came the higher expectations. I started to feel like all eyes were on me, that one single mistake would undo all the things I worked hard for.

I went to college carrying all the pressure of being a high achiever. I felt there was no room for me to show weakness and pretended that everything was going well. It couldn’t be farther from the truth. I was struggling. I was afraid to fail. My whole body shook every end of the semester when our grades were released.

I cried a lot because I was afraid to fail. The mere thought of disappointing people gave me nightmares. I felt this way for four years without realizing it wasn’t normal, and continued to push myself to study harder.

One would think relief came upon graduation day. But for me, my worries did not end there. It worsened because I knew everyone was looking forward to our licensure exams. The people around me expected I would pass. The pressure during this time was difficult and I felt lucky to have someone I could share my thoughts with. It lightened me when things felt heavy. This person was not approved by everybody, however. But instead of following expectations, in this case, I followed my heart. 

It took two weeks before the licensure exam results were released, and knowing what you know about me by now, you can only imagine the agony of waiting.

I found out my name was not on the list. It took days for me to internalize what was happening. My worst fear came true: I was a failure. Despite working hard all these years, this one mistake proved that I really was not good enough.

I stayed at home for two months. I deactivated all my socials and ignored everyone except for the one person who became my support system. As the days passed by however, I started to feel alone. I eventually found out that he betrayed me with somebody else in the most painful way. I immediately decided to remove him from my life, but the trauma unfortunately stayed.

It was all too much. I had already made all these plans when I graduated but none of it happened. I felt stuck and left with no other options. I felt scared to the extent that my body would start shaking every time I thought about what had happened. I couldn’t breathe properly. I barely slept and ate. Eventually, I felt I really needed help. I went to see a psychiatrist. 

I could hear the silence while I was alone with my doctor and initially felt really afraid. Once she smiled at me, I burst into tears and told her every detail of my story. I did not expect it would be so easy. 

I was diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder with panic attacks. It wasn’t new to me because I researched the symptoms I was feeling. I did keep this to myself at first, but when my brother reached out to me, I told him about it and he helped me with my medication. The rest of my immediate family also eventually found out, and my doctor also talked to my guardians as part of my therapy.

Unfortunately, I stopped taking my anxiety medications because I did not have a good experience with it. I had a full-blown panic attack that nearly brought me to the ER. I calmed down when my mom wrapped her arms around me and told me to breathe. 

I signed a waiver to stop taking my medications and went through a series of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT). 

I told myself that since I no longer took medication, I had to exert extra effort to help myself. I followed every advice that my doctor gave me. I started meditating twice a day. I learned breathing techniques. I exercised, spent my spare time trying to distract my mind from negative thinking.  I  traveled to relax and unwind and eventually became a travel buff. I kept on doing these routines and after 5 months, I got my first job. I met new people, which at first made me so anxious. Slowly, I got used to my new job and my colleagues.  I noticed that I was starting to get back to my old self. Though the anxiety attacks were still there, I was already making a lot of progress, which I was glad about, so I decided to discontinue my therapy sessions but still constantly did my routines. While I still have my routines, I have also ventured into exploring new things. I’ve been interested in different ways of meditation. I recently enrolled in pole dancing lessons. And I’m still looking forward to more adventures that life has to offer.  

Four years have since passed, and while I still encountered a lot of challenges along the way, things still fell into place. I did not get a local license and was not hired in my dream company, but I do have international certification that led me to my current job in an Australian firm. I’m also in a relationship with a guy whom I’ve known for 13 years. He has been very patient with me when I was having anxiety attacks during the first couple of months that we were together. I am grateful that he always does the best way that he can to protect my mental health. All in all, it took me 2 years before I could finally say that I am better now.  

Having anxiety gave me a lot of worries and nervousness,  but it also led me to valuing and loving myself more. Every day is a new chance to heal from the past, make the present memorable, and to be excited for the future. To assure that I  can make this happen,

I’ve been waiting for this moment to share with everyone that I am a survivor and I want to let  everyone know that as long as you’re still breathing, no matter how heavy or hard it is, there is still hope. So please keep on fighting and give yourself a chance to live the life you wish to have. how you wanted to. Let’s all be free from all these pains, insecurities, worries and fears. Breathe in hope, breathe out despair.

Editor’s Note: Failure is a normal part of the human experience, but it makes us believe in the negative thoughts and doubts in our head saying we are not good enough. We hope this story reminds you that every day we are alive is a chance to start anew. Like the author, there is nothing wrong with asking for help to deal with this in a healthy way. Please feel free to visit our directory for a list of mental health services available in the Philippines, or call the NCMH hotline (09178998727) for emergencies.

The post #VoicesOfHope: Inhale Hope, Exhale Despair first appeared on MentalHealthPH.

The post #VoicesOfHope: Inhale Hope, Exhale Despair appeared first on MentalHealthPH.

High school is supposed to be the best years of your life, but that wasn’t always the case for me. Throughout high school, I received hate messages and death threats on a daily basis. Surprisingly, even my teachers jumped in and gossiped about me. I never understood why everyone was so invested in my life when in fact, I shared none of it. I was always amazed at how they came up with creative stories about me. 

I started experiencing this in 8th grade, but it didn’t bother me until 9th grade—when everything in my life reached rock-bottom: I was having problems at home, my mental health was crumbling, I was trying to figure out how to raise my sibling on my own, plus I was in a toxic relationship. I didn’t know where to turn for peace and solitude.

You wouldn’t think I was having problems when you saw me in school. I always appeared unfazed and never showed defeat, perhaps because of my eldest child syndrome. Nobody got a reaction from me unless it was warranted. But deep inside, I was completely overwhelmed. I would skip school to spend the entire day in my room. It was my way of finding peace and disassociating from whatever was going on. I used to daydream a lot as a form of escape, and I did it all throughout high school. Though I knew I’d have to return to reality the moment my sibling got home, I was just relieved to have that little space – somewhere safe, somewhere I could let my guard down. But I knew I had to rise to the occasion someday.

There came a point in my life when I realized I needed to make a change. I was fed up with the bullying culture in my school, and more fed up with how no one did anything about it; so in 10th grade, I ran for and won the position of student council president.

My entire term revolved around bullying. I proposed support groups for students who were bullied. During my term, the student council held classroom-to-classroom discussions about the issue. It was an advocacy of mine to make sure the victims knew they weren’t alone and had someone to lean on, because I didn’t. I suppose in a way, knowing they were seen and heard made me feel seen and heard.

The number of times I saw hopelessness in the eyes of students whenever they cried about their experiences was overwhelming, and it made me want to stand up for them. I thought to myself, “If I cannot stand up for myself, I can do something to stand up for them.” 

Despite my experience, I could say that high school was the best years of my life because I learned how to channel my pain into something productive. That was when I found my passion for helping people. Looking back now, I honestly have no idea how I survived everything I went through, but I hold this experience close to my heart. I tell myself, “If I survived all of that, I can survive anything.”

Editor’s Note: Being the target of bullying does a great number to a person’s mental and emotional well-being. If you find yourself relating to this experience, know that you are not alone, you do not deserve to be treated poorly, and that you are worthy. Perhaps like the author, you can channel your pain into something productive, but if it all becomes too overwhelming, please feel free to visit our directory for a list of mental health services available in the Philippines, or call the NCMH hotline (09178998727) for emergencies. 

The post #VoicesOfHope: Turning Tables first appeared on MentalHealthPH.

The post #VoicesOfHope: Turning Tables appeared first on MentalHealthPH.

This is a heartbreak story.

No, not the kind of story that you’re thinking of.

For most people, a failed romance is the one that hurts the most but mine was a lost friendship. Let me start from the beginning.

Six years ago, in high school, I met someone that eventually became my best friend. We were the kind of friends that were polar opposites but clicked like a switch. You know how magnets are, right? Even if I was quiet and she was loud, opposite poles attract. My god, she was loved by many. She was selfless and I adored her because of that. She was also brave. She had the courage to stand up for herself and for the people that she cared about, including me. We were more than best friends; we treated each other like sisters.

Uneventfully, upon entering senior high school, we parted ways. She left the school and I remained. I gained new friends and so did she. I slowly eased into this new scenario and slowly enjoyed the life I was living. But when I thought everything was okay, things started to unfold. As it turned out, life was not how I expected and wanted it to be.

One day, I learned that my boyfriend was cheating on me. Of course, I became a total wreck. I needed my best friend by my side but we were miles apart. After some time, I recovered and started entertaining a new guy. We tried but we both weren’t looking to be in a serious relationship. Another romance ended, another time of needing my best friend by my side.. but, we weren’t talking.

All of a sudden, she sent me a message. I was glad that she did because we were both busy living our lives. We haven’t contacted each other in a while so I got excited to talk to her. She told me what was happening in her life and that she had been talking to someone that likes her. I cheered for her; she deserved to be loved. Aren’t best friends supposed to cheer for one another?

But, why? Why did it take her that long? Was it so hard to spend a minute to type and ask, “How are you?” We waited long enough that it scarred us both. After meeting new people, we thought we were fine without each other but we were the best of friends. We let our pride get in the way of friendship. On her end, she apparently heard rumors about me that she believed. I knew what it was but I didn’t reach out to her. I should have before the news came flying to her like a paper. But, as I was preparing to tell my side of the story, she brought it up. My best friend told me that she wasn’t mad but our conversation went downhill. I couldn’t get a grip; I couldn’t catch up. I tried to apologize but I became off-tracked. I tried to compose myself to explain but it was too late.

A few days later, I tried to contact her again to explain.. but her ears were shut. I knew, right then, that we were experiencing the peak of testing of our friendship. So although I was hurting, I gave her the space and time that she needed. I knew that I was at fault and I could not force her to talk to me. I waited and waited, but when I tried again, she didn’t even bother to listen. I felt blocked like I’d hit a wall. I tried to persistently pursue her. But eventually, exhaustion caught up. I got tired of chasing an impossible race.

She and I. Me and her. That was what we were before. There was always an “and”. We were connected like cords closely knitted together. But, we took different paths down the crossroad. Our lives became poles apart from before. There was no “and” any longer and I was faced with a dead end. She left as fast as she could with questions in mind. And, I was left at the same place with questions unanswered.

The moment I realized our friendship was really over, I let her go. There is no way we will cross again, at least, not in this way. Life is a journey of ups and downs, of coming and going. People come and go. So, I gritted my teeth and bore with it.

I grieve what was lost but I rejoice all the memories we had.
I grieve what could have been yet, I celebrate all the had-beens.
Maybe, we’ll have our time. Maybe, we won’t. Only God knows.
For now, I will keep our memories etched in the deepest recesses of my heart so that someday, when I look back, I will be grateful that you fell into my life at a time.

It made me glad and content that in the process of losing everyone, I found myself. As I traced back to the track, I became at ease with the sound of my footsteps. As I slowed down from running, I started to enjoy breathing in the fresh air. As I stopped looking after your shadow, I realized the beauty of my own. And as I ceased walking towards you, I began to walk towards myself.. towards my own journey.. towards my own path.

When life separated me from people who weren’t for me, it pushed me to be in-tuned with the sound of my own heartbeat. This is what I learned from losing people: What was and is meant for me is myself. No one else but myself. I am my own completion. When I lost people, I won myself. And, that is the greatest prize I could ever wish for.

– Anonymous

The post #VoicesOfHope: Meant for Me first appeared on MentalHealthPH.

The post #VoicesOfHope: Meant for Me appeared first on MentalHealthPH.

I wanted to fit their standards and I wanted to be like them. I was tired of hearing painful words about my body every single day. We live in a world where being thin was praised and losing weight was an accomplishment. I started dieting and exercising. After a few months, I lost a lot of weight. People started complimenting me for looking ‘healthy’ and for losing weight quickly. I got addicted to their compliments, I became obsessed with their words. I continued losing weight; they didn’t know I was barely eating. No one knew that I was starving myself and pushing myself to exercise even though I didn’t have much energy. I counted the food I put in my mouth. I planned every meal. Food was energy, but for me, food was dangerous.  

When me and my friends went out and took some pictures, I saw that I didn’t look happy anymore. I looked so weak and pale. I knew something was wrong with me, so I started researching about my situation until I found out I had an eating disorder. In our country, eating disorders were not well-known. We believe that this illness can only occur to rich people and women. 

I was trying to eat; I was trying to take care of myself. But I can’t handle the thoughts inside my head telling me that if I eat, I will be fat again. I was trying to recover alone but it was hard. I started losing a lot of hair, and didn’t get enough sleep at night. I became depressed about my situation. When I wake up every morning, I am already waiting for the sun to set because it was painful to live. I could not see hope anymore, and I thought I would stay this way for the rest of my life. I started to attempt suicide,, and my thoughts got worse. When I told my mom about it, I felt like I didn’t have a heavy heart anymore. That proves that asking for help or sharing your thoughts will help you feel a lot better because someone is helping you. I took a social media break for a month and started focusing on my recovery. When I already had the courage to open my social media apps, I deleted my Instagram account full of fitness influencers and diets that I know will trigger me. I made a new account and followed people who can help me recover. I found out that there were a lot of people going through the same situation. I knew that I was not alone. Sharing my thoughts and experiences and reading other people’s small wins and ideas helped me to continue living.

It’s hard to live a life with an eating disorder, especially as a man. It’s hard to ask professional help; it’s expensive, and facilities are hard to find. It’s hard to ask for help because of the stigma that men are strong and independent. One thing I learned is that  we all have different lives and we all have different mindsets. Our bodies are different and it’s okay. I was once blinded by unrealistic body standards. Now, I know that the healthiest you is not the smallest you. Now, I am spreading awareness about eating disorders and body image. I want everyone to know that eating disorders can affect all genders, all ages, all sizes, all people. There are a lot of Filipinos who suffer alone from body image issues and bad relationships with food. They don’t know where to ask for help. Eating disorders can affect Filipinos too and these issues are serious. Awareness is what we need in order to help others in need. Help is possible and Hope is always there. It is never too late to pick yourself up again and recover from doubt, and almost give up your life. My experiences made me stronger; my experiences helped open my eyes to the reality of this world. Let’s serve as an inspiration to others to see themselves as enough and worthy. Don’t drown in social media. Standards are unreachable. Don’t let them control your life. Be grateful for everything and keep learning. Keep exploring your life and discovering yourself. You deserve to live a wonderful life.

#VoiceOfHope: Never Impossible to Fix Yourself by Jan Jeabert Pleje

#MentalHealthPH believes that you and your story will help empower other people living with mental health problems and fight the stigma linked to it. Be a voice of hope! Submit your story here: bit.ly/VOHstory

The post #VoicesOfHope: Never Impossible to Fix Yourself first appeared on MentalHealthPH.

The post #VoicesOfHope: Never Impossible to Fix Yourself appeared first on MentalHealthPH.

Our parents made sure that we were raised with manners and discipline. We were punished for committing mistakes and breaking the rules by my father. My fear and feelings of inferiority then emerged at a young age. With this, I had to keep secrets from my family such as being homosexual (gay) as this adds more fear towards my father. Another secret that I hid from them was I became my neighbor’s victim– he took advantage of me. I did everything that he asked me to do as I was scared and felt as if this took my innocence as a child. Only my friends knew about all this. Carrying this experience through time was difficult for me.

A huge shift in my life happened when I graduated from college and had to search for a job. For the first time, I was away from my family and I had to deal with everything alone in Cebu City. Culture shock is real. The city is beautiful and a lot of things were happening in my life but this was also that point where my mental health started to deteriorate.

My frustrations and rejections from job hunting triggered this. I could not sleep at night, tend to overthink everything, felt excessively worried, sad, and unable to focus. My cousins pointed out that these were symptoms of a mental health problem. They immediately informed my mother about my condition.

After almost 2 months in Cebu, I was sent back home because they thought this would help me out. But my condition only worsened and by this time, I experienced deeper anxiety and depression. Majority of my family were not well-informed about mental health problems and how to address them. They brought me to fake doctors and “faith healers” but of course, none of these helped. Finally, my mother decided to look for a psychiatrist. Once we found one in Iligan City, I was prescribed medication to treat my condition. I saw to it that I took my medicine and even tried to change my lifestyle. I thought everything was going to be easy just like that.. But it was not. I decided to cut my medication since I felt like there was no development. Everything was a trial and I constantly asked myself when will all this come to an end. I felt pity for myself every time I thought about the possibility of recovery.

I remembered my guidance counselor from our campus who was a nun. I reached out to her to talk about my condition and asked if she could help me out. She then invited me to talk and without hesitation, she did help me out by giving advice and strategies to cope. Since then, I started to see a different perspective and felt encouraged to change. I listened to calm music, read stories of people who also suffered with mental health problems, and watched testimonies. The best thing that happened was she introduced me back to God and acknowledged His love and presence.

It was a tough journey overcoming my mental health problems. I thought it would not end. Surprisingly, God did it in mysterious ways. I feel better than before. I feel validated and assured that having mental health problems is not the end for me… that there is still hope. My family and friends also became supportive and did their part to help me stand and believe that I can overcome all this. It was a big deal to help me recover. I cannot completely say that I am already free from my condition but I am writing this to tell you all who are in the same situation as I am that there is hope and you will overcome this too.

For everyone who is suffering and has felt so much sadness, we are here.. Somewhere around the world, fighting this battle with you. And each of us may have different stories and situations, but it is comforting to know that we have this common ground. Believe that there is light in the midst of the storm and if I am able to overcome this… then so can you. God is always watching over you, my friend. He never fails to.

Editor’s note: Faith and spirituality is known to be a coping mechanism for problems related to mental health. Aside from this, peer support, professional counseling and even physical exercise has been proven to help people with different mental health issues. Please visit our directory for a list of extensive mental health services available in the Philippines or call the NCMH hotline (09178998727) for emergencies.

The post #VoicesOfHope: The Forbidden Past first appeared on MentalHealthPH.

The post #VoicesOfHope: The Forbidden Past appeared first on MentalHealthPH.

[TRIGGER WARNING: This post discusses suicidal feelings and attempts of self-harm]

Hi,

I just wanna share this story of mine and how I overcome depression and anxiety and how God saved my life. My dad left before I was even born and disown me as his daughter, my mom? She left me to work in Manila when I was 4 years old. Growing up, I feel like there’s a huge space between me and my mom. I can hardly remember her face, hindi ko alam kung anong boses niya sa personal, hindi ko man lang alam kung anong pakiramdam ng haplos at yakap niya.

My dad… I see him everyday, yun nga lang hindi kami nagpapansinan. Halos magkapitbahay lang din kami. Bumalik si mama galing Manila nung 9 years old ako, kasama ko na siya pero di ko padin ramdam yung sinasabi nilang bond between mother and daughter.

Growing up, I’m all fed up with harsh and hurtful words from my family, they body shamed me, laugh at my insecurities. Hindi ko nalang pinansin kasi akala ko natural lang naman yun. Not until napapansin ko na na nawalan na ako ng confidence sa sarili ko, everytime nasa crowded place ako hindi ako komportable, tuwing tinitingnan ako ng tao feeling ko pinagtatawanan nila ako. May mga pagkakataon pang nangiginig at naluluha na ako. People around me expected me to be just like my family, mga matatalino, maraming talent. But then I always disappoint them. Minsan, hindi pa sila naniniwala na anak ako ni mama.

My first attempt happened on Valentines day, 2 years ago, 15 years old pa lang ako nun. But no, hindi ako nagtangkang magpakamatay dahil sa pag ibig, sumali ako nun sa love letter writing sa campus namin. Natalo ako, I didn’t tell my family that I joined the competition coz I want to surprise them, para kasi sakin mag iiba yung trato nila sakin pag nanalo ako, last time I feel loved by them ay nung nanalo ako sa press conference, I want to feel that again but then wala, natalo. Pag dating ko sa bahay halos puro mura pa naabutan ko. Napuno ako, so I get the blade and cut my wrist. Unang hiwa, hindi masyadong malalim, when I was about to slit it again ay biglang nagsalita si tita sa likod so hindi ko natuloy. I become whole different person after that. Minsan nalang ako ngumingiti, parang pasan pasan ko yung mundo. But I tried to change it, with the help of my friends and my adviser, I get over it.

Second attempt, last year lang, Yun na yung worst mental breakdown ko, nanginginig na ako ng sobra at wala na akong pagdadalawang isip sa gagawin ko. So I got my meds and pour all of it in my hand, kukuha na ako ng tubig pero bigla kong nabitawan lahat ng gamot sa sahig, saktong basa ang sahig so hindi ko na yung makukuha. Hinang hina ako habang papasok ng kwarto ko, and then he gave me a sign. Yung calligraphy na ginawa ko yung “Stay Alive, I love you, you are worthy” at yung “Padayon future Psychologist” and then that little voice in my mind said “Ano nga ulit yung reason ba’t gusto mong maging Psychologist? Diba para makatulong? Paano mo yan magagawa kung magpapakamatay ka?” I literally cried after that, naalala ko din yung una kong pagtangkang magpakamatay.

He saved my life again, I feel bad for myself bakit ko nagawa yun? Nung tinalikuran na ako ng lahat nagstay parin yung sarili ko, kung hindi nila ako kayang tanggapin kailangan ko nadin bang ikahiya at itakwil ang sarili ko? So I loved myself more, stay away from toxic people and try to live a peaceful life, besides… bata pa ako. Marami pa akong mararanasang problema, and I’ll face all of it—much braver this time, through God’s guidance. This is my story, and God… saved my life twice.

Editor’s note: Faith and spirituality is known to be a coping mechanism for problems related to mental health. Aside from this, peer support, professional counseling and even physical exercise has been proven to help people with different mental health issues. Please visit our directory for a list of extensive mental health services available in the Philippines or call the NCMH hotline (09178998727) for emergencies.

The post #VoicesOfHope: He saved my life twice first appeared on MentalHealthPH.

The post #VoicesOfHope: He saved my life twice appeared first on MentalHealthPH.

Sure, my mom sometimes posted on social media about my achievements pero iba padin yung masabihan ka ng “proud kami sa’yo, anak.” Some of my friends had become professionals and nasa stage ako na “buti pa sila.” Pero, sabi nga ng iba, “don’t compare your success to others.” Yun na lang iniisip ko.

Whenever some of my friends passed the boards, I heard “buti pa si ganto, doctor na, teacher na, lawyer na, nurse na”. Ang sakit. Every time naririnig ko yun, nag walkout ako. Maybe this was the reason hindi ako close sa parents ko unlike ng iba.

Back in 2011, I took up Bachelor of Science in Information Technology at Bicol University. I studied there for a year. I ended up dropping some of my subjects kasi nahirapan ako. Though I developed software back then, iba yung programming language na gamit sa major subjects kaya nahirapan ako.

Long story short, my parents found out and I was dismissed from the university. I remember, umiyak ako sa harapan ng dad ko and I asked, “Pa, pwede pa ba ako mag aral?” That was the first time that I cried in front of my dad. My dad said yes and I enrolled in a two-year Associate Degree in Computer Programming. I graduated in 2015.

After graduation, I was ready to look for a job in the IT industry pero ang taas ng qualifications nila. So, I decided to shift my career to the hospitality Industry because, aside from creating applications and software, I also loved cooking.

It was in June 2015 that I took up BS Hotel and Restaurant Management. My plan was to go abroad and work on a cruise ship. I got my bachelor’s degree in April 2019.

2018 I think was a difficult year of my life. I was always anxious about the future. Iniisip ko, “ito na ba yung para sakin? Magiging successful ba ako sa career na pinili ko? Magiging proud ba sila sa akin?” Isa pang iniisip ko was, “this is my second course, marami nang nagasto ang parents ko just to send me to school. Ito na ba yun?” September of 2018 was also when my girlfriend broke up with me.

Parang pile up na lahat nung 2018 and that led me to consider ending my life. I was suicidal. I became alcoholic so I could calm myself. I remember when I was ready to jump with a rope around my neck, I was crying, inisiip ko yung mga maiiwan ko sa mundong to: mga nag mamahal sakin, my friends, and my family. Parang may nagyayakap sa akin that time and I grabbed the Bible. I opened it to Hebrews 13:5: “I will never leave you, nor forsake you.” And after mabasa ko yung verse na yun, I cried a lot. After that, lagi na akong nasa simbahan.

November 2018 nung bago ako matulog, I remember I was scrolling through the newsfeed and yung kaibigan kong pari nagpost, “when you can’t sleep, talk to God.” So I did, I prayed and talked to Him about everything. While praying, I felt sleepy. After I ended my prayer, nakatulog ako agad and I remembered dreaming. I was climbing a very high mountain. When I reached the top, sobrang liwanag. While walking, may nakita akong tao sa gitna ng liwanag and he was wearing a white robe with a red stole. It was Jesus. Sobrang liwanag. I can’t explain the joy nung time na yun. We had a conversation. Alam mo yun, yung nag-uusap kayo pero sa isip. Nung papalapit na ako sa kanya, may force naman na nag-pull sa katawan ko. And just like that, I woke up and it was 3 am.

1 hour na pala yun.

Later that morning, I told my mom about my experience. Sabi nya, “talaga? Ano kaya ibig-sabihin nun?” Sabi ng uncle ko, “baka sign yan na magpari ka?”

Sinabi ko rin ‘to sa kaibigan kong pari and he said the same thing: “maybe that’s a sign that Jesus wants you to be a priest.”

Year 2019 was a year of hope for me. My priest friend encouraged me to enter the seminary. Sabi niya, “try mo lang, kasi dyan mo malalaman kung ‘yan ba talaga ang calling mo.”

March 2019, I took the exam at Our Lady of Peñafrancia Minor Seminary. I got the result after a month. I passed.

I remember Holy Week nun. Sinabi ko sa family ko na I passed the exam in the seminary. Yung ibang relatives ko masaya sila pero my mom, parang ayaw nya. But after that, parang I was still searching for something. Maybe I had a different calling. So, I went to Manila June of 2019 to search for a job. Dun ko na experience na ang hirap pala maghanap ng trabaho sa Manila. Almost two months straight akong naghahanap ng work. To be honest ready na ako mag-give up that time, but God is good. Na-hire ako 27 August 2019, two days before my birthday. I have been working for a BPO company in Pasay for almost a year.

I was planning to enter the seminary again on January of 2020. This time, it was the Holy Apostles Senior Seminary in Makati. It was a seminary for late vocations and professionals. Nag-inquire ako online and nag-share din ako ng short background about myself, but I didn’t get a response after that. Siguro di talaga ito para sakin.

March 2020, Manila was on full lockdown. Di ako nakauwi ng Bicol that time due to the travel ban. I stayed in Manila for almost three months. June of 2020 nung nakauwi na ako ng Bicol, sabi ko sa sarili ko, “babalik pa ba ako dun?” I decided to stay here in Bicol.

My dad is a doctor. Whenever my teacher asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, sinasabi ko agad gusto ko maging doctor kasi gusto ko kagaya ni Papa para matulungan yung mga maysakit.

When CHED waived the National Medical Admission Test this school year, I grabbed the opportunity to enroll in med school and follow the footsteps of my father. Maybe this is God’s way of saying na hindi talaga sa priesthood yung calling ko, pero sa pagiging doctor. Hindi man through preaching but to save lives.

Nung interview ko sa med school, sabi ni Dean, “pag doctor ka na, do you promise to serve the poorest of the poor?” I immediately said “yes.”

Now, I am a 1^st year medical student at Bicol Christian College of Medicine. I will continue to follow my father’s footsteps to heal the sick as Jesus also did. We serve God by serving others.

This is my story.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” – Jeremiah 29:11

The post #VoicesOfHope: Following the Great Physician first appeared on MentalHealthPH.

The post #VoicesOfHope: Following the Great Physician appeared first on MentalHealthPH.

As I feel the Christmas Spirit and feel them glow, I felt my social soul drifting into the unknown and leaving a space as it bid it’s goodbye to the Christmas break while Aunt Anxiety, with her companion, Uncle Depression, took my Sanity’s job for the holidays. I opened up about this and all I received was, “It’s all in your head.”

I was in 5th grade when my siblings started calling me “Bipolar”. I didn’t have any idea what mental health was back then and all I know is that I am moody and I turn into a passive-aggressive kid when I’m hungry and I self-harm just to feel the stinging sensation of being alive. While I was in 7th grade, I started to think about death and during my 8th grade, I attempted to befriend death itself.

I had to study what mental health was all about, because being trapped in your own mind isn’t as pleasant as daydreaming about your crush. Later on, I have learned about Bipolar Disorder and how it has two major episodes; the depressive episode and the manic episode where you either feel depressed for a long period of time or feel hyperactive. And when I was in 9^th grade, I decided to try online counseling and I was diagnosed back then that I am experiencing major symptoms of Bipolar Disorder 2; the severe type and that I need to get regular check-up with a Mental Health professional.

As I isolate myself from my family, my classmates, and my friends. I decided to self-harm as a way of coping and it went on for years. I have drowned myself in thoughts I can’t comprehend and questions that I can’t answer properly. I was suicidal and I never had a chance to be checked by a psychologist or psychiatrist because I don’t know how will I explain to my parents that I’m suffering from a Mental Health illness and that illness can’t be measured by thermometers or be cured by ointments. How can I tell them without them telling me, “Why? Only addicts go to psychiatrists”. How can I tell them without getting told that I’m only overreacting.

It’s an everyday battle I have to fight and it’s never easy. Not until one drunken night, I had a major meltdown and I begged my mom to have me checked by a mental health professional. There, I was diagnosed with Bipolar 1.

Then I start to wonder about the other teenagers or even adults who are suffering with the same illness as mine. How can they cope up with such battles?

Every day I update myself about how the suicide rate in the Philippines is slowly rising and I can’t help but be saddened by the thought that many people are suffering and they think that they can’t get professional help.

When will we notice the ghosts that are not existing in our traditional horror stories? When will we notice the ghosts that don’t haunt us in our sleep but in social occasions?

Mental Health issue is the ghost when we fail to believe in Mental Health, even if there are scientific facts out there. Mental Health issue is the ghost in our walls and it may crawl in our head through our ears. And perhaps today, it’s time to see the ghost.

#VoiceofHope: Time to See the Ghost by Shree Mena Ornopia

#MentalHealthPH believes that you and your story will help empower other people living with mental health problems and fight the stigma linked to it. Be a voice of hope! Submit your story here: bit.ly/VOHstory

The post #VoicesOfHope: Time to See the Ghost first appeared on MentalHealthPH.

The post #VoicesOfHope: Time to See the Ghost appeared first on MentalHealthPH.

These words have always been on the back of my old notebooks, written on the shade of the fading black tint. I sought comfort and release through scribbling. Its always been like this, overthinking about almost everything. When it’s past midnight and I couldn’t sleep, I think of all the possible things I could’ve done if I were better. Intrusive thoughts and self-inflicted pains will attack me like monsters under my bed. Pillowcases will plead for replacement because it is soaked with my tears. Regardless, I also remind myself every day that I don’t need the validation of others, that I am better and that my mistakes do not make me less of a human. But most of the time I feel like I’m back at square one. Battling every day over this exact same sh*t. Who wouldn’t get tired? Looking at the mirror, reflecting my insecurities and doubts. Tears will haunt you naturally the way your anxiety did. It kicks into your system, digging to its deepest brim, intentionally breaking your stability, and eventually leads to breakdowns. I never wanted this, falling into the pit of the dungeon where everything was dark and fear enveloped your being.

I always cry during my rough days like it’s the only way to ease the pain. There was one time when I feel like I’m just empty like there’s no hope left because I feel left out. I was just on my phone and those thoughts came back. My tears immediately fell and my heart kept on clenching, hurting me more. I want to stop weeping because I don’t want them to know how empty I actually was. I was scared of the stigma and judgment. These fear and anxieties and sadness, they’re real, they all are. When you just want to isolate yourself and be at peace for doing so. When you just want to put on good music to feel less alone. 

I failed and I blame myself every day. No matter how hard I motivate myself, convincing myself that it’s fine, I’ll always end up questioning myself, doubting my self-worth over and over again. I feel inferior to others, especially when compared. I hate myself for being vulnerable. I’m always at the peak of self-destruction but never meeting it. I cannot understand myself. My mind is going on haywire. 

Nonetheless, I always remind myself that not all feelings have a name and breakdowns are okay. I somehow realized that in every breakdown, there is always a recovery. It’s okay to rest, to feel the disappointment and fear because we are humans, we are allowed to feel. 

My anxieties came back sooner than expected. I was down for the past months. I used social media to reach out and to find the motivation to rise from my falls. I always check some good to read excerpts on Instagram and it somehow calmed my mind and prevents me from further self-destruction. There are always stories to read for anxiety, recovery and eventually healing.

Let’s admit it we all have our rough days. We cry and breakdown and when asked: “Why?” There is no exact answer for the bottled up emptiness and sadness. We all have very different reasons to cry which is normal because pain and fear exists in everyone.

Let us all break the stigma. Let’s consider their fights we do not see, the tears behind the smile. We don’t want this. Depression and anxiety don’t choose their victims.

We should check on our loved ones and friends every time. A simple “How are you?” and “I miss you.” can save a life. Let’s lend our ears and really listen.

To all of us and to whoever reading this, I know that it’s hard for us to reach out and seek help because of the current situation where almost everything around can trigger us. Remember, please don’t hesitate to talk to someone because trust me, it really feels better, having someone care for you. 

Always remember that you are worthier than what people think of you. You are not alone on this battlefield. Many have already had their fair share of similar struggles you’ve been facing right now and they have risen above it. They too have stumbled, cried, and wept. They too are in deep pain, they hurt themselves. They felt empty. And I am one of them. You are not alone. It’s okay to cry to feel pain and disappointment. Heal at your own pace. We are here to survive. We are our own tributes to this battlefield so let’s put up a good fight. We are not any less worthy because of our pitfalls. We are made stronger from our scars. Let’s choose to be more cause we can be more. Recovery is worth the fight!

– Julianne Almacen

#MentalHealthPH believes that you and your story will help empower other people living with mental health problems and fight the stigma linked to it.
Be a voice of hope! Submit your story here: bit.ly/VOHstory

The post #VoicesOfHope: I Will Be Okay first appeared on MentalHealthPH.

The post #VoicesOfHope: I Will Be Okay appeared first on MentalHealthPH.

My name is Milo. I’m 22 years old. I have been diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder and Social Anxiety Disorder.

My problems started when I was still young. Growing up, I was a sheltered kid. I wasn’t given the freedom to decide for myself and the chance to solve my own problems. My parents helped me in even the smallest obstacles. Consequently, I grew up shy, timid, fearful, and incompetent, which made me a target for bullies. I found it hard to interact and socialize with other kids. I was picked on and bullied in different ways, like calling me all kinds of names, pulling down my pants in front of people, or pushing me around. I had to transfer to another school, but I always found myself in the same situation. I had to change schools frequently to cope or get away. I attended five schools from elementary through high school.

The bullying got so intense in high school that I had to stop for two years. In this low point, I turned to computer games. It became my own means of escape, to temporarily disconnect from the ugly reality. But this newly found addiction soon took a toll on me when my academic performance got affected. In spite of all this, I managed to finish high school. I was so excited to go to college, driven by the thought of it as a chance to reinvent myself and leave the memories of getting bullied behind me.

Boy, was I wrong? The bullying continued. That’s when I realized that it doesn’t really matter where you are. If you don’t do something to change the situation, to help yourself, then the same thing will just happen again and again.

On my first year of college, I didn’t get the best schedule. My morning classes would end at 12:30 PM and the next was at 7:30 PM. I had too much free time on my hands, and I was forced to rent a room in a nearby boarding house. The room that I stayed in was petty and very small with no windows. It only had some ventilation above. My days went by in a routine: I’d wake up, go to school, and afterward, I would go for a jog or roam around with no particular direction. When I’ve had no classes for the day, I go home. I think this part of my life was the most productive that I have been. It’s when I learned most of the principles that I still keep today.

I was comfortable for the first couple of months, but as the time passed by, I found myself having trouble concentrating during classes. I tried to focus but retained nothing from lectures and activities. My condition worsened and suicidal thoughts soon became more prevalent, especially at night when I’d try to fall asleep. I cannot stop myself from thinking of different ways to end my life until I fall asleep tired and in tears. I started to avoid classes where I had to speak in front. Whenever I spoke in front of the class, I experienced shaking, stammering, and intense nervousness. During those times, I found myself frequently hanging out on the school rooftop observing the students from a bird’s eye view. There was only one sight — students chattering and laughing. They had friends. They had a bright future and the whole world in front of them; all oblivious to the fact that there was a fellow student who wanted to jump and end his life because, at that moment, he was sure that he would never have those things. It was then that I realized I needed help. I forced myself to finish the semester despite knowing that I’m certainly going to fail in some of my subjects.

Subsequently, I decided to take some time off from school to have myself checked by a psychiatrist. I told this to my parents, and they supported my decision since they already had the intention to have me see a psychiatrist when I was younger. It just didn’t push through due to financial constraints. I tried going back to school a couple of times since then, but I still couldn’t handle it. I don’t think I’ll be able to finish college anymore. I could walk away knowing I did all I could, but it’s just wasn’t meant to be. I’m also a survivor of multiple suicide attempts. However, I am happy to be able to say now that my current condition is stable since I changed my medication. These days, I also have a decent relationship with my parents unlike in the past where I felt resentment towards them and blamed them for my condition. I’ve learned that we are responsible for our lives.

I am currently taking an antidepressant and an antipsychotic medication. I have been regularly getting check-ups from a psychiatrist in NCMH (National Center for Mental Health), and it has been a huge help in my recovery. There has been a vast improvement in my condition compared to before. Going out of the house was something I couldn’t do before, but now I can.

One of the biggest factors to my recovery was certainly seeking help from a psychiatrist and taking medications. Other factors that helped were being aware of my thoughts and feelings so I can discern, avoid or fight the triggers of my depression and anxiety, and constantly move or do something. I have no job as of the moment since I’m having difficulties finding and maintaining a job. As they say, “An idle mind is the devil’s playground.” Being idle makes me vulnerable to negative thoughts and feelings. That’s why I make it a point to always be doing something — be it helping with the house chores, watching over our store, or walk around with no direction in mind. I also try to live in the “here and now”. Thinking about the future is just making me anxious, and thinking about the past is just making me depressed.

I’ve also started a support group in Facebook called Social Anxiety Support Philippines, a group that caters to people with social anxiety as well as other mental health problems. Feel free to join us. I’ve created the group because I know how hard it is to have a mental health problem. I wanted to create a place where people with mental health problems can help and encourage one another. I guess I’m one of the lucky ones. I was able to detect my mental health problem and sought help early in my life. I’m grateful it saved me from enduring more pain. With this kind of life, you need to have things to be grateful for and hold on to them for dear life.

-Milo Borja

#MentalHealthPH believes that you and your story will help empower other people living with mental health problems and fight the stigma linked to it.
Be a voice of hope! Submit your story here: bit.ly/VOHstory

The post #VoicesOfHope: A Story About My Battle With Mental Illness first appeared on MentalHealthPH.

The post #VoicesOfHope: A Story About My Battle With Mental Illness appeared first on MentalHealthPH.