Recognizing or experiencing things not actually present to our senses is not normal. Excessive or inappropriate anxiety can take a huge toll on one's daily activities. Frightening traumas can subject someone to severe stress that persists for a very long time. The manic and depressive behaviors of a person can occur simultaneously and they can be very hard to deal with. People experiencing severe depression can have suicidal tendencies...

I never really cared to learn about mental illnesses until I had my duty in psych ward (Ward 7) of UP-PGH weeks ago. Aside from believing that their conditions are irreversible, the collective unconscious would simply connote these mentally ill people as sira ulo, may tulo, may tama, atbp. For a very long time I had thought of them that way, and it felt wonderful to be feeling secure about having a sound mind, about being able to discover new strategies on how to cope with stress, about having negative delusions and hallucinations.

My heart was racing and my legs weak and wobbling when I first stepped inside Ward 7. I was afraid of coming in contact with the psych patients because of their altered perceptions. I had fears that, by sudden impulse, they might attack me with any blunt yet possibly dangerous object they possess. Or they might suddenly throw an emotional fit for no known reason. But while I began to talk and socialize with them, little did I suspect that they are not at all what I used to think about them, (well, not all, but maybe most of them) and that people should start to educate themselves about mental illness.

I must admit that during my visit there at the ward, I have encountered short moments of comedy, farce, action, horror, and suspense. But I never thought I'd be learning so much from these patients whom the majority of the sane people label as incompetent and nuts. I found some of them to be supportive with one another and amiable toward the staff. They are also determined to get well which is evidenced by their compliance to therapeutic regimens like taking meds, eating, and sleeping on time, taking a bath everyday, and attending patient meetings and other group therapies.

Dumbfounded I was by what I've heard. That young man was a genius, to think that not only was he able to compose a song whose words so much depict imaginative awareness, he also sang it so beautifully that even without accompaniment, I still had broken into tears. His composition was clearly a passion-filled emotion about having to live differently. In the song, people like him are said to be living in a prison, that because of their illness, they are shackled forever. Tears start to form in his eyes while he sang "kami'y unawaan... panawan ng karamdaman..." As if I still haven't had enough, I tried looking around the room and saw all my patients seemingly oblivious, silent (except for one who suddenly had the urge to clap uncontrollably), and not looking at the performer. Having a glimpse at each one of them, I asked myself if they actually understood the song. I was unsure of the answer.

Even while I'm writing this post I feel tears starting to form under my eyelids. My exposure to the Ward 7 is worth treasuring. These are the people you rarely meet in your life. Little did we realize that we learn even from those who we think are the most inferior among the inferior. Their delusions may be grandiose or their hallucinations overly fantastic. But their dreams or goals in life are just simple. And yet I just feel sad that they're having a hard time reaching their ambitions because of their sickness. They are focused in getting well. And they have the strong desire to prove to their families that they are not useless. "Gusto ko nang gumaling para makatulong ako sa pamilya ko." I assure you'd hear these words from them often.

Cliché as it is, if there's a will, there's a way, right?