Sunday, September 9, 2012

After almost a year (or maybe less than that, but definitly more than 6 months) of self-suspected depression, today I looked up some self-evaluation depression scales and did the tests. In Zung's depression scale, depressed individuals usually score between 50-60. I scored 51. In Beck's depression inventory, I was rated as Moderately Depressed. And another depression scale, I scored moderately depressed, too.

I have been trying to shove aside the idea of me having depression because I don't think it's that "easy" to be depressed. And I always give excuses of my sadness and emptiness. Until one day, I came to realisation that I have been feeling sad like this for quite a while already, then I figured something must have gone wrong.

I keep telling myself it's going to be over soon, and it's only a temporary phase, and I will snap out of it soon. But I guess being in a denial state will only worsen my situation. I read through my previous blog posts and I notice it's either I have lost the interest in blogging (which I used to enjoy) or I have been complaining how I am not as happy as before.

What keep me afloat are the occasional outings with friends that keep me company and cheered. But even that, no all people can cheer me up. That's why sometimes I'd rather keep myself busy with washing cups duty (even though I am not on duty) after refreshment in chuch than to engage in small talks with anyone. I should have seen this social impairment signal flagged long ago.

I am not sure if it's because I chose to let go of debate since last year.  I know that I miss debate, and every little things or moments that reminds me of debate aches me. I hope it's not too late to go back to where I come from. I miss good argumens and getting updated with issues bigger than my own. Now I don't have the incentive to get them.

I feel tired easily and have lost passion in reading. Sometimes I cry a little. Quite often I wish I die in a car crash while I cross that road on the way to work in hospital. Die on the spot. Just a little pain, quick death. Even then, I wonder who will know that I am gone.