The Big D

As I write this, I’m looking at a bottle of Gran Matador and trying to figure out if it’s half empty or half full…

Such is the need to calm my nerves on this humid Monday afternoon while listening to an empty house breathe and sigh.

Things have not been running smooth in my life lately. I just quit my job of three weeks and am now officially unemployed. An incredibly unprofessional thing to do, I know, but something that must be done in order to preserve myself.

Somewhere out there, a blacklist with my name on it.

It was depression, an affliction a St. Luke’s psychiatrist said I was suffering from back in 2008, rearing its ugly head again, perhaps triggered by the new environment. The insomnia and late-night sweats, the lost of appetite, the morbid fear of getting out of the house. It was depression by way of social anxiety, it could not have been anything else. Visited my mother last Mothers’ Day, and all she could say was how gaunt and terrified I look. It was not the sort of special reunion I had in mind. And in my head came the dolorous clanging of alarm bells.

So I quit work. It’s either that or have another breakdown. Just like in 2008.

Part of me says I’m only good at fucking things up. I just emailed the person who got me my previous gig explaining what happened and at the same time apologizing for it, and it was probably the most painful email I’ve written in my life. She has all the reason to hate me for what I did. Can’t blame her.

Meanwhile, all I hope now aside from understanding from my peers is for my days not to be long and dreary. I plan to spend them recuperating from the ravages my body suffered in the last 20 days or so. This morning I did some brisk walking, with Raven before I dropped her in my in-laws’ place where she likes to spend her weekdays. After that I took a shower and wrote the first 500 words of this story I intend to submit to Etopia Press for possible publication. The writing took the whole afternoon and suddenly it’s dusk and Charmaine will be home in an hour or two. Then I’d feel complete again.

In short, I’m busy surviving, one small step at a time.


Photo lifted from here.


5 responses to “The Big D

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