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They knew that I was suffering through something but they never really tried to listen or understand neither did I ever made them understand because of my inertia.
It’s always just you in the end.
Shaky hands breathless mind sweaty palms losing it every time.
We will go to your uncle’s house tomorrow so be prepared. But why? it’s just a meet up! No, I don’t want to go.
I was still not able to figure out how I was going to tell them that all of this is not my physical illness but my mental illness. All the tiredness and restlessness was a part of anxiety, which they will never understand because apparently one can go get a brain surgery in India but not to a therapist because that will declare you mentally disabled.
Every single day of trying, laying in bed, not being able to get up feeling not myself, every moment so close to giving up.
Everyday of pushing myself to get up from bed, to do something new, to prove myself that I am okay when I am not, that I am normal when I am not.
Days when you don’t even feel like getting up from bed. There are days when you feel so helpless, days full of sobbing, moments when you will cry by just asking someone to get you a glass of water.
Days full of wretched eyes, feeling obnoxious.
The urge to do something but also the urge to lie down the whole day and not get up.
Just a shower in 3 days felt like the biggest achievement.
Living with anxiety is like being followed by a voice. It knows all your insecurities and uses them against you.
Every time you try to focus on your breath you feel like you will die. Every time you count your breathe is the time when you start losing it,
It was just me dancing, singing, taking a shower, sitting in a metro, walking by a road, doing the most random stuff and experiencing PANIC ATTACKS.
People are in a dilemma that when you experience such attacks it feels like epilepsy, but NO it’s just you standing and experiencing one while trying to gather your breath back.
Feeling inertia almost 24X7 was not easy for me. And having no one at home who can pacify you and tell you that yes we are with you it’s okay it almost felt like sabotage by my own self.
Only I know how badly I wanted to come out of it all those wretched days, praying a million times to God to heal me, to heal my soul, to heal every single thought of mine.
All this and I was still not able to gather the courage to tell my parents that I was suffering from this, something which was excruciating, something which was heart wrenching. And the fact that it’s been almost 9 months of this journey and I still haven’t consulted anyone, because I know the reactions.
“Aisa kuch nahi hota, sab tumhare dimaag mein hai, nayi nayi cheezein banaadi hain bass khaana peena theek se kar. Taaqat ki dawai pee, sab theek ho jayega” (There’s no such thing, it’s all in your mind, just all these newfangled things. Take some tonics for energy and you’ll be alright!)
Aur jo main bolun ki sab kar liya abhi bhi kuchh nahin hua, fir kya? Kya fir mujhe therapist ko dikha doge ya psychiatrist par le jaaoge? Nahin na! Kyunki voh to option mein hi nahin aata. (And if I say I have tried all that but it isn’t working? Then will you let me see a psychiatrist? No, you won’t, because that isn’t an option according to you!)
Aksar hamare aaspaas log hote hain jinke sath ye sab ho raha hai, par shayad hum dekhna ya samajhna nahin chahte. Mental illness ko physical illness ka naam dekar bacche ka sharir kamzor bata sakte hain lekin dimag nahin kyunki voh kamzor nahin ho sakta. (We often have people around who suffer like this, but you don’t want to take the trouble to understand them. You prefer that they have a physical illness rather than a mental illness, because of course, that cannot happen!)
Main har roz roti to rahi ki main theek ho jaaun, magar us sab mein main yah bhul gayi ki jitna main ise apne se dur rakhna chahti thi yeh utna hi har waqt mere sath tha. (I wanted to get better, I cried out to get better, but it isn’t in my control, and gets worse.)
I was exhausted from trying, Although anxiety was a part of life but maybe I let it control myself.
And all of this made me realise that it becomes easy for you to survive and for that all you need is a support which makes you feel you are not alone in this when you are dying due to panic / anxiety attacks they are just there sitting holding your hand and telling you that you will be fine and everything is okay. But unfortunately I ended up having no one, I wanted my family’s support but I didn’t get.
There was an unsaid pressure which I felt almost every time I exhaled and inhaled. “You have to be perfect, you cannot be weak, you gotta be this you gotta do that, you gotta be all these things.”
And steadily I just lost the vision of who I was. I listened to them, to their patriarchal opinions, and moulded myself according to them as I wanted to be accepted by the people, by the society, and I thought that maybe this way they will accept me and certainly I forgot to be MYSELF.
Depression anxiety and panic attacks are not signs of weakness. They are the signs of trying to remain strong for far too long. 1 in 3 of us will suffer with these at some point in our lives, and will need love and support.
Let’s change the game?
Let’s start accepting people for who they are and not for who we want them to be.
And you. Yes YOU! Don’t forget to love yourself, breathe, go slowly; everything is gonna be fine soon.
Image source: the author
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