a number of you, faithful blog followers and friends, have wondered what happened to this blog; whether i'll ever update it again, and if so, when. for the past few months, my stock answer has been, “i'm working on it. i'm almost done with my latest post. watch for it next week.” but the weeks turned into months without any sign of an update.. my last update was actually on 22 sep!
to tell you the truth, i've been hiding.
when one is made acutely aware of one's mortality, as when you're diagnosed with cancer, (and sometimes, even when you're not), you battle more than just physical problems. there are demons and monsters messing you up from the inside. i have been plagued with brief spells of depression since may, but this last bout has been major, lasting more than a month.
some of you may also have had days when you just don't feel like getting up from bed. it takes the strength of a schwarzenegger to pry your eyelids open. then, you lie there unable to move, not even wanting to.
in that state, there is a question that may assault you incessantly. you try to push it away, but it won't go. “what for?” it asks, or a variant, “what's the use?” and it's almost impossible to come up with any good answers, because it's not the question that terrifies. it's the answer. “it's all for nothing. it's of no use whatsoever.”
mid-life crises (plural, because it keeps coming back) feed the demon depression. i feel my life's in a rut there's no getting out of. i believe drastic changes are needed in my life to make the birds sing again, and to perfume the air with a sweet aroma. i'd sorely like to feel young once more, with the world full of “what will be's”, instead of “what could have been's”; free of the baggage that a lifetime has loaded on my back.
i question my worth to the small world around me. i haven't made any money since early this year. it's all been cris, and she's been very nice about it. my illness had a lot to do with my inability to earn money. working at getting well uses up a lot of time. i get tired frequently and suffer my back pains. i have to take short naps during the day.
yet, i can't really blame the cancer, because i feel just fine most of the time, and when i'm doing something i enjoy, i don't get tired even if i'm at it the whole day.
not being the family provider bothers me. there are days i feel utterly useless. i seek redemption for my existence, but at 59, it becomes very hard to find any. during those days, it isn't the demon depression that rises up in me, but the monster anger; an intense, senseless anger, that makes me lash out at those closest and dearest to me – my children, more often, my wife – for no apparent reason.
one night, cris was late for supper, having come from a series of meetings the whole day with her colleague beth, who was scheduled to leave for the u.s. on a business trip. they had to pin down work that had to be continued while beth was gone. cris came in as we were clearing the table and she said, “i'm sorry!” to everyone, but she headed straight for me. before she reached me, with my back turned, i snapped, “no, you're not.”
i guess she was really tired because she reacted with anger, something she rarely does. “you're so unreasonable!”, she shouted. after a minute, she said, “beth is leaving!” the monster growls back, “do you want me to leave?” (stress on the “me”, dripping with sarcasm.)
she went ballistic; crying, screaming, wailing. i thought she was having a nervous breakdown. i have such an overwhelming effect on women, it's unbelievable. she told me i was unfair, demanding, and unappreciative. she even called me a brat! to be called a brat at 59 is mortifying. but she was right.
she cried till 3 am. the next morning, she had calmed down and felt sorry for the things she had said. i didn't feel she had to be sorry about anything because she called the shots correctly, but kept quiet. why give up an advantage. i didn't bother apologizing for my own behavior. brat nga eh.
so i was hiding from my inadequacies as a husband and a father, as well.
in blogging, one of the difficulties i have writing about myself is that i often have to walk a tightrope. when am i honestly proud of my accomplishments, and when do i boast? when am i simply being self-confident and when am i arrogant? am i merely explaining my actions, or am i apologizing for my failures? when do i drive home an important point, and when am i simply making noise? am i being interesting, or have i turned into an utter bore?
when i'm feeling good, i write and i beat back the demons of doubt and anxiety. but at times, they become paralyzing. there's just no writing anything at all, as in the past months.
obviously now, i've also been hiding from my authoring anxieties.
at times, the answer to the question, “what for?”, is taken to heart. that's when i don't care about anything anymore, and one of its manifestations is complacency. a couple of months back, dr jimmy told me that i was cured of my cancer, though i would still have to continue with my protocol (diet and treatments) for the entire 6 months. but i felt good and i was cured, wasn't i? i started cheating on my diet. i quit my regular swimming exercise. i gave up trying to sleep earlier than 11pm. result? i'm fine, but the saturated oils, sugar, and processed flour took their toll. i now weigh 10 lbs more than i should.
that's another thing i hid from, my responsibility to get well and perhaps in so doing, to inspire others to strive for healing too.
i was even trying to hide from God. one of the last times i visited the Blessed Sacrament, i told Him, “i'm here, Lord. is there anything You want to tell me? talk to me; i'm listening.” and in a tone of disappointment, i heard, “what for? you don't listen to Me anyway.”
shock! fear! “Lord, what're You saying? i listen to You!”. response: “you listen, but you don't obey. so what's the use of My telling you anything?”
i immediately knew what He was talking about. a year ago, He gave me a task to do. i've kept putting it off because of anxieties about doing the job well. so i went into hiding to keep out of His sight. that did as much good as adam and eve hiding in the bushes after eating the fruit of the forbidden tree.
but now, i'm starting to emerge again from the shadows. it was comfortable for awhile, but it sure wasn't living. from my experience and from what i've seen from friends who have been down, depression thrives in solitude. it is sustained by, and in, loneliness. so how do you pull yourself out of the doldrums?
there is a poem by edwin markham i remember from my youth. the first and the last lines remain foremost in my mind, though it is the 3rd line that gives meaning to the poem.
He drew a circle that shut me out
Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout
But love and I had the wit to win;
We drew a circle that took him in.
when i'm depressed, i draw a circle to shut me in, and everyone else, out. inside the circle, i am by myself, i do not wish to be drawn out. i do not wish to be loved or cared for. i don't want to hear the usual proclamations of love and support from family and friends. it's not that i don't love them or care for them, in my depression they're simply part of the rut i'm trying to climb out of.
in the attempt to escape, a new guiding light to the promised land is desperately sought; a new job. a new career. a new home. sometimes, a new object of love to quicken the blood and stir up the emotions. whatever form it takes, the dream of redemption promises a different reality without the snags and hitches of the old one. any accompanying challenges of the new reality are optimistically easily surmountable, never mind that these are the same challenges previously confronted and were found to be overpowering.
the promised paradise is ephemeral; smoke and mirrors with neither substance nor reality. look closely enough with unblinkered sight, and it is the same old life, perhaps with a few minute changes here and there, which soon loose their luster, for they are mere illusions. the real challenges and the answers to them lie within each person, where there are no radical changes, but only acceptance of one's intrinsic realities.
i have been besotted by similar visions in the past, but i was fortunate enough to wake up before i believed the dream and forgot the reality; the reality of my family, my work, my friends, and my God. these make up the life i've built over the years. plodding ever forward through tears, pain, and unfulfilled dreams, yet revelling in the joys and triumphs; inspired by the love in everyone.
when you realize that the love is real and not just a promise; that the compliments aren't meant to massage your ego, but express true appreciation; that the reassurances aren't empty platitudes but express sincere companionship and care; then you paint the circle that draws family and friends in with you again. and you know there can be no better reality.
so now i've come out of hiding. but with no promises that i won't disappear again in the future. once in awhile, there is a need to hide if only to rest for a little bit, and to rediscover who you are and what really matters. the important thing is to re-emerge from the shadows and into the light.
and that's life as benjie, hiding for a time, but eventually seeking the light.
my deepest thanks to those who didn't lose faith in me and kept encouraging me to write again. sometimes, when i don't know what it's all for, i'm happy that you do.
