In my normative years, I stood out. Socially reclusive, anxious and relationship averse. My family most likely didn’t see the onslaught of red flags and my friends certainly did not understand me. The most unfortunate thing might be that, for years, I didn’t see it either.
Now, however, I have been living with varying degrees of symptoms, diagnosis, treatments and a sneaky, unpredictable spate of depressive episodes. The denial of it all has been devastating. I have been asked by an employer to leave my job because my mental health was belittled, and most people have been at a loss or worse, dismissive, when I make stumbling, inept and often guilt-ridden attempts to explain.
So, I went on for years, until one day, I became strong.
For many, a positive response to mental health is uncharted territory. I can’t possibly deny the debilitating nature of mental illness because the truth is, it is a protracted wellspring of angst, despair and uncertainty. I can say, with unequivocal conviction, that there will be days when I come back to this article and feel nothing but rage and indignation that I dared to write about, for the lack of a better word, the positives of suffering from mental health conditions. But for today, like every day, we forge on.
I have now been in therapy for a year, where, for the first time in my life, traumas and anxieties have been corroborated. I’ve been working on coping mechanisms and intellectual tools to combat the invasive and at all times, vicious, inner critic that has been slowly chipping away at my self-worth and ultimately, my well-being. In therapy, I have been allowed to delve into perceived short-comings, where they stem from and how to withstand them. I have also consistently been reminded of my strength.
With that strength, I have become more outspoken about my journey, and mental health in general. I have been equipped with the devices I’ve needed to inform and educate the people closest to me. I know I can get a constructive conversation going, and have developed a thicker skin against some of the popular opinions most people have in the context of psychological health. In the same vein, knowing where to draw healthy boundaries and step back has been a top takeaway. What I don’t have any breath to waste on is people’s unwillingness to learn. Yes, people can be high-functioning, but that doesn’t invalidate their mental health struggles. No, self-harm is not attention-seeking — it’s the only way people know how to cope. Apathy and inhumanity towards other people’s suffering are a no-go.
Now, on to the other side of the same coin. I’ve learned to listen — I ask more questions, I go into conversation without an agenda, I try not to predict what the other person is going to say. I now tend to notice things that aren’t explicitly said. If I feel like someone isn’t okay, I ask twice. I recognise my biases and prejudices and learn from people who inevitably know more than I do.
Something that has been in my control all along is a shift in perspective. Taking advantage of this choice required intentional effort on my part. Putting aside the automatic patterns I used to fall into didn’t come naturally, but being able to renew my attitude is a superpower that was worth striving for. I’ve actively practiced seeing situations from an entirely different perspective— not a better one, just a different one.
Written By Rhea Baweja
Week 43, October ‘20
