Be Your Own Super Human!

Have you wondered how it feels to be someone who suffers from mild depression but the symptoms aren’t that deadly so nobody gives a shit?

Image credits: henn_kim, Instagram
Image credits: henn_kim, Instagram

Hold on, this isn’t any comparison or whatsoever. Every type of depression is equal and should be treated with utmost care and respect. This is NOT a competition. 

I have good days and bad. Mostly good days, but the bad ones are bad enough to overshadow the good ones by a long shot. I live a pretty, good privileged life and I should be thankful for it (which I am) but that’s not the point. I don’t cry my eyes out or have trouble breathing at random, but I still “feel” like shit most of the time. A minor inconvenience fucks up my entire thought process and creates indescribable disruption. I fall into pieces which only I can assemble back. I hear everyone say, “I’m here for you if you want to talk.” ; so where do I begin? How do I explain a lifetime of battling with anxiety and “mild” depression? How do I possibly put aside the fear of getting judged while narrating my sob story to a society which constantly disappoints and puts down every human being? Be it shaming a 3 year old for what her mother made her wear or a global female icon for getting shot and making something out of her misery. And mind you, it’s not just my gender that throws me further into the deep, dark pit of depression. It’s much bigger than that. 

I love how these supportive messages begin to pop up at the death of one famous entity. As soon as that fades away, so does the empathy for the dead person. It breaks my heart that people like me who are struggling every day, sometimes just to wake up and gather the energy to live a single day without overthinking, or without having to indulge in small talk, will have to keep on handling themselves because no matter what, nobody else can understand your pain like you do, nodbody gives a shit about you like you do. It’s borderline cynical but if you put some wise thoughts to it only you can save yourself, be your own best friend. The people around you, are all good just for casual encounters. 

Hold them close, but hold yourself the closest. 

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Journalism & Its Voyeuristic Approach Towards The Blue Whale Suicide Challenge 

At first glance, this might seem to be straight out of a sick Japanese movie, but a brief inspection will tell you it’s closer home.

Below is a screenshot of one of India’s widely read publications, about the recent, controversial story doing rounds on the internet, “The Blue Whale Suicide Challenge”. It reads something like this:

Hindustan Times; Blue Whale Suicide Challenge Excerpt
Hindustan Times; Blue Whale Suicide Challenge Excerpt

What I’m yet to decipher from the whole article are a few points: 1. Horrifying for whom? We are talking of kids, who are potentially trying to kill themselves. Is it the horror that the journalist feels worthy of discussion here? Again, 2. Psychotic? 3. Macabre?

The world is in need of better, convincing conversations about matters pertaining to depression, mental illnesses, etc. Unlike this insensitive, almost voyeuristic, judgemental rhetoric passed off as “Journalism”. 

I doubt if the writer even paused to think a while, about the kind of impact their words can have on someone who is unwell, hurting, considering self-harm. Inaccurately labelling someone as psychotic, or an act of ‘macabre’, definitely pushes the neurodivergent community further into the realm of the other, alienates us and just makes for a lazy, awful piece of journalism. Honestly, pscyhobabble hurts. 

I wish people, especially those who have the power to change the world and the people who the world looks up to every morning in between the sheets of the black and white ink carrying news from around the world (like this author), would take some time off and attempt to educate themselves about the importance of using the correct language to address the subjects they’re not completely aware of. 

But then again, it’s not surprising to see this kind of journalism in a country which tries so hard to repress every kind of talk about mental illnesses. 

Your Life Is As Real As Any ‘Famous Person’.

It’s funny how quick we are to applaud celebrities from all around the world when they come out to talk about their depression, addictions, or even abusive relationships. We think it makes them almost humans, no? Almost very brave, somehow! But.. What about you? YOU! A 100-percent-non-celebrity-with-a -real-job? What about your complete experience? Are you blessed with a state of mind to talk about your most gripping and tragic life experiences? Do you have someone to confide in? Or are you going through a depression hell, hoping someone would take notice as to why you don’t smile like you used to, anymore? Hoping someone will coax you out of your lonely, self-loathing shell called ‘false bravado’ that you apparently pretend to happily live in? Are you hoping they’ll read between the lines and come save you? Someone like Us. The Us who are so quick to not miss the trending topic to praise and vouch support for celebrities on Twitter and share the same redundant links featuring their stories? Do you have a rock solid somebody you can trust with your life?

I DO.

When I was struggling through new school, bullied by kids of the same age as me for being too skinny, who obviously didn’t know better, I had my mother stand by me, protecting me, fiercely.

When I was stuck in a college for three years I didn’t want to, harassed by a staff member, I had my family supporting me, steadfast.

When I endured the worst break-up of my life, or hit a dead-end at work and surrendered to accepting my fate, I had my closest friends storm in and rescue me in an ambush.

 

And day after day as I battle my demons and face my fears; old and new, I have myself. I have the strongest force of nature residing inside my body, fuelling me like some raging forest fire. Like the ocean destroying the shore, but lovingly. Like another me, but stronger, fierce and deathly calm.

So tell me, do you have someone to back you like a titanium wall? Someone to listen to you talk, without judgment?

Because you deserve to be heard! You deserve an outlet. Your life is as real as any “famous person”. Real, and worthy of attention and love.

Every single day.

 

Stop Romanticising Depression!

Of late, I have come across a bunch of hoodwinked people who assume and believe that Depression and Anxiety affects only the less privileged part of the society. Clearly, these people have never faced uneasiness, random pangs of sadness, overpowering them and eventually bumming them down!

Honestly, Depression was never about those temporary bouts of regular old sadness. Depression is certainly not some black and white image with goth boy staring out of a window and some stupid quote caked on to it.  It’s just like your regular illness that you wish went away, but worse. Because, nobody comes out and says “I have a disorder” or “I need help.” For whatever reason, opening up about it isn’t something we all do. Nobody hides the truth, but at the same time none of us are facing it head-on either.

It’s almost impressive how worthless depression and anxiety can make you feel. Here’s the thing, get it straight or get out: People get sad. People get depressed. And people cry. No one has the right to say that they can’t and worse, to be happy and say “it’s just a phase” because it doesn’t ever get better.

Depression can hit anybody, regardless of their sex, age, or country. You might have a lot of friends, but you might feel like curling up in a corner and not have any human interaction for days at all. You’d skip sleep but at the same time feel never to get out of the bed. You skip meals because eating feels like a chore. Your friends and family worry about you but eventually they get used to your absence every now and then. They stop asking you what’s wrong because they never get the right answer. What would you say to them anyway? You might have a hundred thousand people by your side when you don’t need them but the moment you do, there’s no one at all. All your nightmares begin to seem to come to reality. And the voices in your head, oh the voices never die.

This is what depression is and if people knew even one fourth of what it feels like to go through the this, they wouldn’t joke around about it. They wouldn’t tell people that it’s ‘spur-of-the-moment’ thing or to get over it or to look at the bright side. There is no bright side for us.

So, don’t let people tell you that your problems are less important than the problems somebody else might have. It’s never the case. Don’t make them make your tough situation any tougher.