At the age of 49, after just finishing a book, I find myself grappling with a story still untold, a chapter of my life that I’ve kept hidden even from the words I penned down. Although, in the book, I’ve subtly hinted at seeing a therapist, I shied away from directly addressing the core of my struggles. However, a conversation with a friend who recently visited me from Bangalore and discussed his mental health struggles openly, illuminated the path for me. It helped me understand that the more we talk about our battles, the more we can heal and help ourselves as well as others in the process.
Statics show that 1 in 5 adults experience mental illness each year, yet so many, including me, live in denial or fear of diagnosis. By sharing my story, I hope not only to raise awareness but also to encourage others to seek the support they need. It’s crucial to understand that getting medical help is a sign of strength. There are treatments available that can significantly improve the quality of life of those suffering.
My battle with mental illness, a shadow that has trailed behind me since around 1983, became an undeniable presence from 2016-2017 onwards. I’ve spent years unwilling to name it, to acknowledge the silent war I was waging against something that felt too abstract, too “Hollywood” to be a part of my reality. Whether, it was clinical depression, anxiety, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD), or Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), these labels seemed foreign, yet they described the invisible chains that weighed me down.
Embracing Vulnerability:
I remember waking one morning engulfed in an emptiness so vast it felt it there was a pit in my stomach. I felt like I was stuck in a deep well. Directionless, I felt trapped in an endless cycle of low moments, suffocated by my own space that couldn’t bring myself to open a window, to let light scoop into the darkness that had become by world. It was as if I was in a bird cage, getting used to feeling trapped and forgetting how to fly. The feeling was of sadness and hopelessness. I would get scared even at small sounds and of people who scream in a public place. I lived in fear, a fear so tangible that it turned my home into a prison of curtains down tight and doors firmly closed.
There’s this endless void where I can’t seem to rise from, where I feel eyes watching my every move, judging, waiting. So, I hide under my quilt, hoping to become invisible, to escape the scrutinizing gaze that perhaps is more within me than around me. Sometimes I used to run into my room, find a corner, and sit there for hours, trembling and overwhelmed by fear.
During anxiety and panic attacks I could not blow into a paper bag due to my claustrophobia. Venturing out wasn’t an option either, as my confidence was it its lowest. Sometimes, if I could muster some strength, I would drive to a nearby liquor store and park my car, finding some solace in not being alone. There, with the windows rolled down, I would breathe heavily, trying to calm myself.
The Chants of religious Mantras provided the motivation I needed to rise and take action. But for most days getting up became the greatest challenge. Every day for me is a fight not to slip back into the abyss, not to let the void engulf me once more.
Yet, strangely, amidst this turmoil, there are bursts where the fog clears, and I find myself capable of achieving in one day what might normally take ten. These moments are bittersweet, reminders of what I can accomplish but also of the instability that underpins my existence.
Understanding the Causes:
In exploring the roots of my own struggle, it becomes clear that mental illness does not emerge in a vacuum. Factors ranging from genetics to traumatic life events can weave complexly into the fabric of our mental health, influencing its state and resilience. This concept I learned after reading the book “What Happened to you?” co-authored by Oprah Winfrey and Dr. Bruce Perry. In this book thery challenges us to shift our perspective from asking “What’s wrong with you?” to “What happened to you?” It’s a shift that allows us to understand how our histories and experiences significantly shape our mental wellbeing.
This pivotal question not only fosters empathy but also helps to reveal the diverse underlying causes of mental illness, paving the way for genuine healing and understanding. Within my own upcoming book, I delve into some of the personal adversities and episodes that have marked my journey, embodying this very shift in perspective.
The Role of Support:
It was with the encouragement of my daughter and close friends that I took the first steps towards therapy, a pivotal moment in my journey towards healing.
To spouses, partners, parents and children witnessing their loved ones struggle – this illness is as real as any physical disease, though its wounds are not visible. It demands the same level of care, understanding, and empathy. We must welcome this part of our loved ones’ experiences, embrace it, and recognize that mental illness does not define them. It’s merely a facet of their vast humanity.
Challenging Misconceptions:
There’s a pervasive and harmful myth that seeing a psychiatrist is reserved solely for those who are ‘mad’ and that mental illness is a kind of weakness, or something that can be overcome by will power alone. This stereotype not only discourages people from seeking the help they need but also prevents open discussions, fearing potential stigma and societal rejection. The misunderstanding of mental health care and its recipients continues to persist.
The truth is, psychiatrists are medical doctors specialized in diagnosing, treating, and preventing mental health and emotional problems. This is crucial work for identifying challenges faced by individuals such as myself from anxiety and depression to more complex psychiatric conditions.
The Digital Lifeline:
In my own quest for understanding and healing, the advent of technology presented a form of solace. The option to connect with healthcare professionals through Google Meet, Zoom or other online platforms became a lifeline. For someone who found the prospect of in – person consultation daunting, the digital space offered a semblance of comfort. It provided with the initial push I needed to start addressing my mental health without the pressure of physical presence, allowing me to open up at my own pace.
A Liberating Journey:
Writing this blog has been a liberating moment of my life. In sharing my journey, I’m not only confronting the stigma associated with mental illness but also advocating for a dialogue that’s long overdue – a dialogue that’s honest, empathetic, and inclusive. My story, marked by its trials, fears, and resilience, is my contribution to much needed conversation, an invitation for others to join, to share, and to support each other in navigating through the shadows.
I want to tell others that it’s okay to acknowledge not being okay, that seeking help is not a sign of weakness but of strength. The labels that once seemed foreign to me are now part of my narrative, a testament to the battles I fight every day.
My decision to open up about my struggles is driven by the hope that it will inspire others to do the same, to seek support, and to see their vulnerabilities as sources of strength. It’s a step towards creating a society where mental health is discussed with the same openness and understanding as physical health.