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Wednesday, March 26, 2008

the world of the undead

As I open up my cocoon, and share my story with more and more people around me, it turns out that I know at least, by now, more than five people who are also likely suffering from emotional illnesses like mine.

It feels like I raised my hand in class to say, "It was me, I did it," and suddenly hands are raised all over the class, to join me in as if to say, "If she did it, I did it too," or "I was right there with her, we did it together," or "It wasn't just her idea."

Or that I rose from the dead in the cemetery, and suddenly I realise, I was not the only undead around - the cemetery was filled with the becoming of zombies.

More and more undead are being raised from the grave.

Maybe your life-force is hugely dependent on medical help, like I am.

Maybe you don't even know you have symptoms of clinical depression but you know you are just not happy.

Maybe your body is reacting crazily to the stresses around you that are beyond your control.

Maybe you just rather die, than live, no matter how people say that is the wimpish way out.

Let us die or let us live. Being in-between life and death, being undead, it really sucks I know.

Best thing is, I can now say, I have been there. Because I am on the mend. I am starting to feel happy. Almost everyday. Life sucks, but I am actually happy.

It can happen for you too.

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