HERE’S THE thing: people have called me crazy before I could self-diagnose.
Or even before I could seek professional help.
So, I do not really believe that I’m crazy.
***
A little histrionic maybe.
You see, I’m a loud, dramatic, shameless exhibitionist.
But I know when to act out.
When to attract attention.
When to strike and get the most impact.
***
So, I may be a little crazy; but it’s all under control.
I do not need professional help because I know what effect I want to achieve.
And I can actually be subtle when I decide to.
Keywords: I decide!
And I’m pretty successful at it.
***
Last week, I spent five days with a friend.
He was working during the day so I am mostly left in his apartment.
I read his books.
I watch a little TV.
I write some.
Pray some.
Entertained friends with problems big and small.
***
Among my friends’ problems:
How to break up with a long-time partner (see how carefully I chose the word ‘partner’ there?),
Getting a “detectable” result for HIV antigen and antibody test (well, my problem is how to tell him, It just means you are HIV positive),
Pet dog surgery costing $7,000 (I say, let the bitch just die!),
Seniors in the family getting sick all at the same time (they’re seniors, right?),
Making an inspirational speech.
***
Living with this friend for a week made me:
An alcoholic (I see wines, vodka, premixed margaritas, Corona cocktail mixes, whiskeys, et cetera; and they beg me not to waste them),
A coffee-addict (I’m coffee dependent, one cup a day; but my friend makes at least four cups, and he doesn’t even drink it because he’s on a no caffeine diet),
And a voracious eater (he prepares Filipino food, buys take outs, and leaves everything on the table, or the refrigerator).
***
I hate to insult the generosity and hospitality of my friends.
And so, I eat, I drink, and I am merry.
Anyway, one evening, I talked to this friend:
How are you?
Are you happy?
Where do you see yourself in three years’ time? In five years?
When are you going to retire?
***
I ask as if it would be a while before I see him again.
Because while we often talk on the phone, sitting down to talk face-to-face is different.
For me, it’s more honest, more genuine (because we cut out the technology), more personal.
***
And while on the topic of happiness, I ask—
Do you think I’ll ever be depressed?
(Because I sometimes feel so sad for all the other people, and the problems of the world.)
And my friend, looked at me, no words for a while.
And he mustered some funny facial expression, and said, “You, depressed?”
***
And we both laugh.
Because we both could not believe it.
And all I wanted was some confirmation.
How can I be depressed?
I am a most positive person (expect for HIV, Covid-19, and pregnancy).
I am a busy body.
***
I travel.
I write.
I visit people.
I have money.
I have investments.
I have no children to feed, or send to school.
I can afford prostitutes if I want extraordinary sex.
***
I have a great God.
I believe in prayers.
I believe in the goodness of most people.
I have good judgment about many things in this world.
I am intelligent, and smart.
***
I am a people’s person.
I know how to help other people with depression and mental illness.
I help people in various levels and capacities.
So, yes.
I’m least likely to be depressed.
***
And we just have to realize that moods and moments of sadness will overcome us.
Especially in this time of physical distancing, quarantines, and lockdowns.
To deny it is just dishonest.
***
Mental health issues are important.
But let us not be quick to self-diagnose.
I mean, we know of people who have real mental illness, and they don’t go pronouncing that they are crazy.
In fact, some of them even run for public office.
As if being President of the country can cure insanity.
***
I mean, didn’t we learn from Trump?
Some malicious people are asking why I’m naming Trump, and not Duterte.
Well, both presidents may borrow from each other’s political playbook, but Duterte belongs to an entirely different level.
And I’ll just leave it at that./PN
