Breathe

I want to talk about mental health for a bit.

Amidst all that I've had to endure the past five months, I snapped. A little over a week ago, I snapped.

First of, I would like to thank everyone who checked in on me after that very public meltdown. I uninstalled social media immediately afterward which prohibited me from posting/responding anymore.

Of course, I would like to thank my awesome fiancé who has been keeping me together and who picks me up every time I fall.

I've considered deleting my post. But, deleting the post does not delete it from my history. I figured that it would be a good reminder for me in the future. What's behind that illogical post, anyway? Well. This is going to be long.

It all started on September 30, 2019. My mom complained of stomach pain so she was rushed to Ospital ng Makati at her request. I shall save the details for later. Bottom line is that she spent over 16 hours at the ER which could have been longer had it not been for the help of my Betan family. Thus began my rage toward the current state of public healthcare in this country. (Rage because I've been angry at the lack of focus on public healthcare since Juan Flavier.)

A week later, we found out about the mass. I remember teasing my Mom where she hit her pancreas for it to have a bump. It was at this time as well when we found out about my silent miscarriage. Thus began my frustration toward life.

My mom's condition would go on to be a real debacle. We've had to get her a CT Scan privately because the hospital's queue would have had us wait for two weeks. Through all of it, my mom had faith in the government-run Osmak despite our pleas (including my fraternity brothers' recommendation) to seek medical attention in a private institution fueling my rage. My mother, a proletariat paying taxes all her life, trusted the government to take care of her. Who will not get mad at that.

By the time she had her surgery on December 18, 2019, the mass had grown from 3 cm in her initial CT scan to 10 cm. The doctors did not want to take the risk. It was beyond removal. The doctor showed us the photo. One could no longer tell the pancreas from the tumor. Thus began my feelings of regret.

With my mom's help, I tried my best to get rid of my negative feelings. She would say, "No regrets. No what-ifs. Pray. Have faith." And so, that's what I did.

But it became harder not to allow negativity as I watched her helpless in her pain. This woman who would tell of the story of giving birth at Ospital ng Maynila (another government-run hospital) sharing the bed with another woman in labor enduring the pain of a normal delivery and discovering the syringe of epidural anesthesia was on the bed unused afterward proving how high her threshold for pain was... This woman would not be able to sleep and can only scream out in pain because of the tumor. We begged everyone attending to her at OsMak to give her morphine. No, they said. They could only give her Paracetamol and Tramadol.

Four days before she expired, she was brought to the ER of Medical City. They immediately gave her morphine. It was only at this time that she felt relief since her first trip to the ER five months ago. And so, the dimming fire of my rage was further fanned.

Then, the pandemic reached the Philippines.

I wish I was more apathetic. I wish my parents did not raise me with the awareness of my privileges. It's a gift and a curse.

Seeing how the government is managing (or, more appropriately, mismanaging) the situation drove me to madness. It was even worsened by seeing how all these privileged people reacted to calls for action and improvement. Thus began my fear for how our country will recover from this.

And so... on that fateful day after a minor argument at home, I snapped.

After getting my emotions in check and addressing my mental health, this I must say. Not all men are trash. Those in our government are trash without a doubt. But no, not all men.

I know. I know. This was supposed to be about mental health. I am getting to that.

At this time of global crisis, we all have our personal crises to manage as well. IT IS OVERWHELMING. It's not even a possibility; it's a certainty. It's okay to have negative feelings. It's okay to be angry, to be scared, to be confused. What's not okay is to not address them.

Now, more than ever, we must pay attention to our needs and strictly adhere to our coping strategies. The first thing we need to accept is the reality that this is happening and to adapt our routines accordingly. Remember my post last year about mental health? Now I see that it was indeed preparing me for what's ahead. We cannot control this situation. We can only control how we react to it. The serenity prayer has been on loop in my head the past couple of weeks.

The government is already playing the lottery with our lives. Let's not do the same.

Here's a photo of today's sunrise. May this remind you like it reminded me that everything will be okay. This too shall. Life will move on.