Good Vibes Only

“How are you?” 

“I’m fine, thank you.” 

These were the responses ingrained in us from a young age. Responding with “fine” appears to be the bare minimum, as any other answer is considered being impolite or rude. 

This phenomenon is not exclusive to the Western culture only, but it extends globally. After all, the reluctance to “air out our dirty laundry” is a widespread sentiment. There is always going to be a hesitancy as to how we share our lives with others, so people won’t perceive us negatively if they know the realities of our lives. 

As I strolled through the shopping aisle a few years ago, the phrase “Good Vibes Only” adorned T-Shirts, hoodies, mugs and more. It made me ponder, what if I am genuinely feeling under the weather? In a world that insists on “good vibes only,” would I have to mask my true emotions and pretend to be a happy, cheerful person, even if I’m unwell?

Is this what adulting looks like? 

I reminisce about my carefree days growing up. I used to wear my heart around my sleeves, unburdened by the need to worry about others’ opinions. Whether I was angry, sad, happy, I freely expressed myself. It seemed like everyone around me did the same. 

Somewhere along the way, everything changed. I can’t pinpoint exactly when or how, but it happened. No one openly wept when we were hurt anymore, and disagreements were no longer settled with raised voices. It appeared that being “fine” had become the new norm, and we gradually assimilated into this paradigm. 

Perhaps it was when we learned how to conceal our increasingly growing acne marks that we also grasped the art of disguising, hiding and veiling our negative, less attractive attributes.

It seemed like everyone achieved a state of stability as they projected an image of a seemingly normal, happy life. .

“You’re not a child anymore. You should be ashamed for crying over such small things.” 

“Grow up…” 

Eventually, I did just that. I mastered the art of concealing every hurt, every pain, every ounce of negativity, just like everyone else. I learned that if I faked it long enough, the hurt and the pain would eventually fade away. If I buried it deep enough and only allowed a positive side to surface, not only would I be lauded for having a high EQ, but those problems would vanish miraculously if I ignored them. 

If we take a break from this blog and scroll through our social media right now, it becomes very apparent that what I’m writing is true— it screams “good vibes only.” It seems like everyone is living a life of sunshine and rainbows. Social media presents itself as a utopia where everyone lives their best life, everyone seems happy, and everything seems perfect. 

Yet, beneath the facade of a seemingly perfect life, we often hear shocking news about celebrities ending their lives, a stark contrast to the public image they portray. Looks, fame, money—they seem to have everything. What could have possibly gone wrong? 

Alas, we should not judge the book by its cover. Not all that glitters is gold. 

This holds particularly true in Asia, where the topic of mental health is a significant taboo. Despite being seen as the “crazy” one, this term did not bring any negative connotation to my character. I brought joy, laughter, and happiness to those around me, a personality that won me many friends. 

Back then, I believed I had a robust mental health. Even when my ex-boyfriend cheated on me, it took me two weeks to get over him despite feeling sad at the time. When I felt sad, I drowned myself with alcohol, and things seemed to get better. Depression was never in my vocabulary, nor did it ever seem present in my life. When I learned about a friend suffering from depression, I struggled to understand her. I tried to get her back on track, but I couldn’t, mainly due to a lack of empathy and patience. 

I couldn’t comprehend how anyone could slip into such a deep, slippery pit. I wondered why they couldn’t get out of it themselves… 

Until I tumbled down into that same hole years later. 

It was as if a solar eclipse happened, and the dark shadow lingered and never left. 

I tried to maintain a positive attitude for the longest time, but then lethargy took over. I felt ashamed, stupid, and unwanted due to what had transpired. I blamed myself for not getting out of the situation earlier. I felt like it was my own fault that I ended up here. Worst of all, I could not tell anyone about what happened. 

Trapped within my own thoughts, burdened by guilt and shame, I saw no way out, no escape. Darkness enveloped me, and all I could ever think about was my worthlessness as a human being, my brokenness, and how I was unlovable. Eventually, I believed that the world would be better off without me. 

Living life suddenly felt like an enduring nightmare in reverse, where sleeping provided a welcome respite, a refuge, a source of comfort. I wished for perpetual slumber so then I wouldn’t have to wake up to the painful reality of what happened. To who I was. To a world where sunshine did not exist anymore. Every waking moment suffused with the darkest thoughts, each breath was painful. It was as if I was drowning in a sea of sorrow, and the more I swam against the tide, the deeper I sank. I lost the will to fight. 

After all, what was the point? 

Who cared, anyway? 

Right. Nobody.  

What I experienced transcended the depths of deep sadness. I had overcome the pain of betrayal and sadness before, but this was an entirely distinct layer of despair—a place filled with vast darkness and, above all, a place without hope. It was a terrifying realm to be in. I used to have the ability to navigate my emotions, but this time, it felt permanent, as if I were destined to feel this way forever. This darkness became one with me, and happiness was relegated to mere history. 

I felt irreparably broken, and it seemed like it was here to stay. 

Weary of combating negative thoughts. I secluded myself in my room, refusing to step foot outside as I was unprepared for what others might say. Granted, I was already seen as someone less worthy. Any revelation of my latest struggles would be the final blow to my character and a testament to the faith I took so long to build (to no avail).  I wasn’t ready to meet anyone. 

I couldn’t help but think about the possible face of inquiries about my well-being. What was I to do? I could fabricate a response, asserting that everything was fine, but my eyes often betrayed me. The easiest solution for me was to avoid meeting everyone altogether. If I were candid about my struggles, I couldn’t share the full story without risking ridicule. I refrained from confiding in anyone about the true extent of my situation; I didn’t want to bear blame for being in the state I was in. 

“Min, you’re not the same anymore. You used to be cool and joyful… Now you’re not. Can we get the old Min back?” 

No. She’s gone. She’s never coming back.

As my friends gradually drifted away, I felt abandoned, even by God. In the initial stages, I begged God to alleviate the pain, but my pleas went unanswered. I begged Him to extricate myself from the situation, but that, too, remained unfulfilled. Eventually, I resorted to praying for God to end my life. 

Where was He when I truly needed Him? 

I used to pray for things of various concerns, but apathy crept in. I didn’t bother to pray for my family, or my daily life, nor did I thank God for the day. I struggled to find a reason to. How could God save someone like me? I was convinced that He had given up on me. I felt like a hopeless case, and even I would have given up on myself. I couldn’t bring myself to blame God, even if I wanted to; I felt like a lost cause in its entirety. 

This incident draws parallels to the narrative of Elijah. For an observer peering into his life, understanding his point of view eluded me for a considerable amount of time. Elijah had a significant victory for God, a huge breakthrough during confrontation with pagans when fire descended from heaven and consumed his offering. However, when Jezebel threatened to take his life the very next day, fear gripped him, leading him to run away, and eventually asking God to take his life (1 Kings 19:1-4).

The sudden transformation of a victor into a victim was perplexing. How did a hero become zero in an instant? 

Having undergone the depths of depression, I believe I now comprehend Elijah at a deeper level. I sensed what he felt—the overwhelming emotions of hopelessness, defeat, and fear. Perhaps he anticipated a different outcome, but the persistence of evil, despite God’s intervention, cast a shadow over his spirit. His decision to flee resulted in carrying the burden of shame.

He descended into a deep abyss, a place where every glimmer of sunshine, every trace of hope, was forcibly taken from him. In this cold, dark expanse, he felt utterly alone devoid of positivity. 

If Christianity adhered to the “positive vibes only” philosophy,  Elijah would be deemed the ultimate loser. After navigating a rollercoaster of emotions and forsaking everything, even his companion and servant, he found himself at the point of wanting to die. His prayers eventually entreated God to end his life. During this time, all he did was sleep. Understanding Elijah’s perspective now, I ponder what thoughts raced through his mind as he fled from Jezebel’s persecution. This story sheds light on why some people pray for God to end their lives, as the battle against the demons within their minds is overwhelmingly exhausting. It becomes a formidable struggle that eventually succumbs to the thoughts of hopelessness, plunging them into permanent darkness.

This battle felt like sinking in quicksand, where fighting against it only seemed to intensify the struggle. Trapped in this metaphorical quicksand, I grew accustomed to the darkness. I figured that if I ceased my struggles, if I stopped fighting, perhaps the pain would cease too. However, this quicksand was insidious. Despite my efforts to fight for my life, it seemed to engulf me further. When one acclimates to darkness, the idea of welcoming light becomes daunting. I feared the prospect of emerging into the light, anxious that I might regress into the hole that I fought so hard to escape. I became afraid of hope, finding comfort in the darkness, and accepting depression as an integral part of my identity. I succumbed to depression’s deceit, believing that I didn’t deserve goodness in life and that any positive experience was merely fleeting. It seemed like this was the perpetual narrative of my existence. 

Similar to Elijah, I felt alone in this losing battle.

“What are you doing here, Elijah?”

He replied, “I have been very zealous for the LORD God Almighty. The Israelites have rejected your covenant, torn down your altars, and put your prophets to death with the sword. I am the only one left, and now they are trying to kill me too.”— 1 Kings 19:9-10. 

The Lord remained silent in response to Elijah’s plea to end his life. However, when communication resumed, God was present as He made His existence known. This illustrates God’s perfect timing—He doesn’t force or rush, but even in Elijah’s great moment of need, God was watching over him even when he did not know it at the time. Not only did God refrain from harsh rebuke, but He dealt with Elijah gently, patiently, and kindly. Even when Elijah couldn’t perceive the light, God was close to the broken-hearted man. 

Could it be that in our perception of battling alone, we are, in reality, not alone? Does this illusion blind us to the existence of light beyond the enclosing tunnel?

To escape the engulfing quicksand, one must acknowledge their situation and be open to receiving help, recognizing that only someone stronger, external to the situation, can pull them out. Similar to Elijah, God sent friends as a reminder that this battle against profound hopelessness is not solitary. 

Amidst this, I would receive texts from a friend, Sam, who reminded me to eat as I rarely left my room. Although I did not feel hungry, a knock on the door often revealed a container of delicious noodles or a bag of fresh fruits and food for days. Even in the depths of hopelessness, someone cared, ensuring I ate and respecting my private space. During that winter break, I slept, ate, and repeated the cycle. Despite having to work for my tuition, I showed no inclination to leave my room. In moments when the world seemed to abandon me, Sam noticed my absence. Rather than passing judgment, he cared for me by providing nourishing food. 

In addition, my friends, Maggie and Upuia, were aware of my absence. They took turns to hang out with me whenever possible, offering support and ensuring that I was okay. It didn’t matter if I hadn’t showered or brushed my teeth that day; they were there to keep me company, share stories, and provide encouragement. In moments of loneliness, their presence was a source of care. Not only did they refrain from judgment, but even at my worst, they made an effort to express love and compassion. 

I found myself being more open to the idea of prayer. Initially, when Sam asked if he could pray for me, I would just shrug nonchalantly. However, a few weeks later, I became significantly more receptive to prayer. It was then that the Lord began to intervene in my situation as I opened my heart to Him. 

The battle against depression was not easy, especially when I regressed multiple times. I almost gave up and resorted to believing that the world would be better off without me. I had reached a point where I almost gave up on life. I used to think of this world as a vast, deep darkness that engulfed me every time I tried to resurface and breathe. Yet, life became more bearable when I had my loved ones surrounding me— praying, encouraging, and uplifting me. In the midst of darkness, I had forgotten the goodness of God, much like Elijah who initially experienced victory as he won battles for God repeatedly, beaming with God’s glory. Despite all these highs, he faced overwhelming circumstances that led him astray, causing him to forget what God had done. 

Life is not a bed of roses, especially for Christians. In times when a person’s faith is shaken due to overwhelming circumstances, it is the duty of fellow Christians to offer support, encouragement and love in their lowest lows. While healing wasn’t immediate and the journey was bumpy, I eventually reached a point where I could stand on my own two feet, basking in Jesus’ loving kindness, all thanks to God’s patience and love towards me that He had shown through my friends. 

Indeed, the words of the Psalmist resonate: “You, LORD, keep my lamp burning; my God turns my darkness into light. With your help I can advance against a troop; with my God I can scale a wall…It is God who arms me with strength and keeps my way secure.” Psalm 18:28,32.