A time of depression.
Written by a version of me that was troubled and disturbed at the time due to the current circumstances of the time.
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THE MODERN HIDALGO: Entry_029.
Written: Friday. August 9, 2019.
After two over-night stays in the hospital, I’m back with another journal entry.
Seems I’ve managed to not be proficient on keeping this daily journal of mine daily. I’ve missed a couple of days in the past weeks as well. I’m truly sorry about that. Sorry to myself, actually. Because I can’t live up to a promise, even to myself. How lame of a person I am, right?
I’ve been in the hospital for 2 days straight, and was only able to get back in the house today, because my dad was re-admitted to stay in the hospital for a quick operation. They did an X-ray scan of him, and it turns out that the reason behind why he found it hard to merely speak, and always coughed blank phlegm, was because his lungs had water in it due to a post-operation side effect.
That’s why even as he was brought back to the house days prior, he still didn’t feel like he was in his best shape. Hell, he looked healthier before the operation. It has something to do with how the doctors were treating his case.
It is as if they are looking at my dad’s symptoms with one eye closed. They know something’s not right with him, yet they hesitated to speak about it, until my dad brought it up.
That’s why these past days, especially just these last 2 days, have been pretty rough on my personal mentality. Because I’m forced to see the struggles of my father as he tries to get back his health.
Yesterday, he had an episode, which was caused by an irregular swallow of liquid. He then proceeded to find it hard to breathe, so we got scared. I ran to the nurses’ station to alert them of what was happening to my father.
When they got there, they did some checking on him, with this unreasonably calm air around them. It was as if the doctor didn’t even care what was happening to my father.
Clearly, I was just paranoid and panicking. I don’t really like it when I’m in the middle of a situation where I know I can’t do anything about it, even if I try. I just get so worked up inside, that I just wanna lose it, and put blames on the people around me.
My mother is quite familiar with this tendency of mine. She knows that I can be very aggressive whenever I can’t figure something out, or finding it hard to figure something out. My voice was at a loud pitch, which was not really directed towards the doctor. But through her perspective, I was getting mad at the doctor for not being in the same panicked state I was currently in.
So immediately afterwards, she told me to stay calm and lower my voice, and not worry about it. My dad was gonna be fine. He was already healing. He just didn’t look the part.
And that was exactly how I saw it. I wasn’t seeing that my dad was returning back to his normal state. I thought that he was still finding it hard to breathe. He looked pale and sweaty, and doing micro-movements one would only do if they couldn’t speak and wanted to signal those around them to hear them out of what they want to get done.
I was so frustrated, even a day later. I’m still roughed up about the whole thing. That’s why every time, I want to get as much away as possible to the hospital, and get back home. Because here, I don’t get to see my dad struggle. I don’t get to feel his pain. I get to feel anything, rather than experience something somebody normal should never even have to deal with.
I can’t take it anymore, sometimes. I’m finding it harder and harder to hide what I’m feeling.
In other news, which is somewhat still related to the prior topic: I messaged a friend of mine, whom I find comfort in, in times of great stress. I’ve been wanting to hang out with this person for awhile now. We haven’t talked in a while either.
I messaged her to know if she wanted to hang out next week. Or just simply hangout, cause we haven’t done that in like 2 months already.
She said yes, but to give specifics on what was to go down. I didn’t really know what to say, cause I was too fixated on the idea of asking her to hang out, that I forgot to think about the how and the where. The specifics of what a hang out would be, in our case, that is.
So I thought hard of several ideas that could be deemed worthy of a hangout. But eventually, we ended up agreeing to just hang out near UST, which is a walk away from me.
I honestly didn’t expect it, but then again, me thinking of farther places to go for just a quick hangout was absurd and stupid of me to do. I forgot that we didn’t really have to up-the-ante when it came to hangouts. Just simply being in one place together is enough.
I guess if you’re wondering why I’m getting too caught up and overthinking about this thing is because I’ve had quite an odd history with this friend of mine. We’ve been friends for quite a few years now. I’ve made myself distant from her a few times, because of reasons I’m not really up to discuss right now. But basically, we’re in somewhat of an awkward situation right now. At least from my perspective.
Cause it’s a different situation this time around. I’m still an undergraduate, and she’s unemployed. We’re both in a place where we are currently going to spend more time at home, rather than worrying about going to classes, since she’s not gonna have to worry about that anymore and I have to take a leave of absence from the current semester.
Long story.
But in its core, I think I just don’t want things to end up where I’m not meeting my friends on a regular basis. I don’t just want to meet them at reunions. I want game nights. A weekend get-together. Anything that would mean being able to spend time with people that you used to hang out with, even though you’ve graduated or have work, or have different time zones. Whatever.
I don’t want to be the guy who gets to meet a friend, after 10 years or more, at their funeral.
To be frank…
