I don't want to relive the misfortune my depression years ago had caused me and I'm a bit afraid that after this admission, that I almost lost my identity to SAD (Severe Anxiety Disorder), I might get labeled as being "mental." Looking back, I can still remember how others grew to be more ashamed of my mental health problems than me. Yes, including my family! While their act of pulling a shroud of secrecy in the hope that people don't find out how I was really doing, was done out of love and was totally understandable given I had a name to protect, I just realized it had actually worsen the situation. Today, I am taking you back to the times when I lost my sanity. If it entails doing so to break the stigma.
I was third year college that time when I broke up with my long time boyfriend. I grew up winning and getting all that I wanted. Perhaps, that was my first serious emotional loss. I never felt ugly, insignifact and insecure in my whole life the way I did during that time. But, I can never tell anyone right? Who would think that a strong independent woman like me will actually get affected. So I had to keep it to myself. Nobody knew there were nights when I lay still, staring at the ceiling replaying all the conversations we had. I cried myself to sleep but nobody knew. I was known to be a person who laughs smiles and jokes, right? Thinking I didn't deserve being called weak, I had secretly battled everyday to survive. But then again, the hardest person to convince that you are fine is yourself. The gruelling battle I had, didn't end there. At first, it was manageable. It was only until I reached my senior year that the situation had taken its toll on me. I could no longer remember dates. I became more withdrawn. I started hearing voices. I cried for no apparent reason. There were times when I became detached from reality. It was only then that my family decided to seek professional help. People even accused me of using prohibited drugs. I had to miss school for a month or two. If I was not given special consideration, I would have not graduated. I thought it would end there, but no! My body had a hard time adjusting from the meds I've been taking. I experienced hair loss and skin discoloration. I had a hard time staying in one place and there were times when I had uncontrollable shaking. There were also times when I cannot move a part of my body. I became more irritable. So, my Mom decided to stop the psychotic meds. I started living a normal life again. Weeks before the board exam, I had the a terrible attack again. Imagine I could no longer afford to go to the comfort room alone in the fear that somebody's going to kill me. We were told that the sudden withdrawal from the meds caused me to be revisited by paranoia and delusional episodes over and over.
I even forego the opportunity to be sent to Italy by the first company I've worked with. I could go on a tirade explaining to you how this situation of mine prevented me from achieving so much. But I guess there are things better left unsaid.
You are reading this because I feel alarmed of how ignorance, misconception and dismissive attitude towards mental health and neurological issues are becoming too widespread. It is preventing people from being open.
For those who are battling from depression, I was once in the same boat, if I made my way out, you too can!
To everyone, you have no idea how you could be of help. But if you're not too concern to take part, atleast DON'T JUDGE US!
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