Quit Stress or Depression

There are many compadious publications on how to crash stress or depressions, but setting rules and making self-approbation is the best.

Major causes of stress or depressions are not only when you go insolvent, fail exams, lose your job or your beloved one(s), or have heavy tasks to cover. Sickness can make you feel that, and even dizzy.

When malaria attacked me, I felt worse. I had bad dreams: people are dieing, people are having bad accidents, I am becoming a wizard, and so on.

Someone with high fiver also described his case: ‘I haven’t done anything wrong to go penitent, but I often feel as if I killed my beloved one. What can I do?’

Malaria fiver doesn’t cause stress than HIV/Aids. Some people with HIV/Aids don’t only become depressed, but insane. Some even committed suicide.

To quit stress or depression, have good friend, discuss about success, go out and look at the scenario, make phone calls to friends and tell them something good, be optimistic, take hot bath and wear good cloths, talk to your pet, take your pet out, e.t.c.

Reading Novels a Great Outing

I could get exhausted with this world, I couldn’t travel to America, Europe, Asia, and others, but I could do that in a few hours, by reading Novels. Reading passages of Daniel Goldman’s ‘Working with Emotional Intelligence’ makes me feel like present in the United States of America. As I read in page 7: ‘As CEO of Wisconsin, a devout Catholic, Richard Abdoo, often uses eight hours a week for solitary reflection’, I picture my self in Wisconsin, greeting Mr Abdoo in his office. In page 170, under Empathy Distress, ‘She had been a pediatric nurse for seven years, but now she was asking for a transfer to a different service at the medical center. Why? ‘I just can’t take holding another little kid who is going to die of cancer. It’s too hard on me.” I saw the nurse handing her resignation letter to a smart Medical Director, in a wide office. When I read Mc Boland’s ‘Sky Sweeper’, I found my self, in the dark corner, watching war. In ‘I’m not Really Here’ by Tim Allen, I was inside a wardrobe, watching the narrator in his bedroom, saying:
“Who am I?”
“Why am I?”
“Where do I go from here?”
“Just where is here?”
” Can I still hear?”

Link

I fought Stress with my Limbs

Miss Glassgod was my Facebook friend for a year, before she liked to witness my face which she admitted was a fervently masculine ilk.
She came from Halifax with her white cat, and said Halifax was forever watching the sea.
She shared me dozens of messages on how to cope with stress, including breathe in deeply and out. This could also, she added, fight lugubriousness.
I told Glassgod one day I had fought stress with my limbs, and she didn’t laugh, she sent me a sad character-you-don’t-appreciate-my-effort, my care for you, dude.

I remembered Glassgod was saying nothing attracted her than my blue profile picture on Facebook on which I was on a rock, watching the city of the Blackworld.
One night, on a desktop, I wrote her, ‘Send me your picture you picked in a blueroom.’
‘Please, gimme two days’, she replied,
‘What!’
‘Kwat?’
I shut down my desktop, and went to bed.

-Maren John Mafuyai