21 DAYS AFTER
I got diagnosed with depression. It’s disturbing and comforting at the same time. It was comforting to know what I have and disturbing to know that I actually have it. I told my family about it and they have been very supportive and understanding, as usual. I cut the tablet into half and cut it again so it becomes one fourth. I took the tiny pill in my hand. For Alex. I drank the meds and swallowed a glass of orange juice. I went to school today. For Alex. Nothing feels different. I still feel down and sluggish. I still don’t have the appetite to eat. I could barely concentrate on anything. The meds has no side effects so far. Of course, happiness can’t be attained in just one day, especially not just by drinking 1/4 of a pill. I don’t know how many days or weeks would it take me to become finally okay. I still miss Alex but all I can do is miss her from afar. The pain of Alex’s death still plagues my heart, but I am slowly starting to accept that life must go on, even without Alex.
38 DAYS AFTER
It’s been weeks and I can say that I’m feeling better. I am slowly eating more than once a day. I can get out of bed each morning without having to think about it twice, or thrice. I am only two weeks behind all my requirements. I am also exercising in the morning and eating foods with omega-3, my therapist said it will help. I am starting to talk to a few people now, as compared to before that I only talk to my immediate family. Although I am not in my 100% yet, I can say that I have come a long way from my state of mind one month ago. Alex must be proud of me right now. I still miss Alex but I no longer cry about her every night, which is why I can sleep before past 12 now. Maybe this is what acceptance feels like. I acknowledge that I miss her but I accept the fact that she can no longer be here with me.