I have always known that I am an emotional being. I could become murderously furious because I feel as if some injustice has been committed against me or anyone for that matter. This same girl can be moved to tears when confronted by a dead cricket. My emotions have often ruled my life and caused me to make very bad decisions. However, in the past few years, they have been protecting me from acting rashly. Fear has been my driving factor, all because I am afraid of pain. According to every biological law, pain is a natural experience and is actually used to protect us from critical damage. I am rarely one to oppose facts but somehow I do not think that this rule pertains to mental health.
I think I have seen and experienced more death than anyone should. I am 25 years old and in the space of eleven years, I have lost about six family members. This does not include people who were close to me like a former classmate, student, and a very drunk mate. As someone working in the social sector, I understand how important mental health is not just for me but for everyone I come in contact with, especially at my job. So when I realized that I was slowly but surely slipping I went to see a psychologist. I was almost immediately diagnosed with depression and PTSD, a conclusion that I had long come to but needed professional confirmation. My doctors and I are currently doing a treatment called EMDR and I think it is working but I can not judge until the process has come to a close.
What I do know is that I am not okay. A part of me that is in constant agony. I contemplate my demise and that of people around me; on a daily basis. My brain refuses to allow me any form of rest that has not been medically induced therefore sleep without dreams is often a welcomed change. I avoid crowded places at any cost as I do not want to be in a situation in which something horrible happens. That is what depression feels like. What it looks like is a completely different story because I do not look depressed. There is a constant smile on my face as I hear a voice yell that I should grin and bear it. There is another voice reminding me to be funny and make people laugh for if they laugh hard enough they will not see that your smile never reaches your eyes. The monotony of my sadness is something that I have grown used to and I am even quite fond of some of my voices. The one that sounds like Vegeta from Dragon Ball Z makes me laugh because I am aware that my impulse to show my boss the true power of an Afro-Caribbean warrior is mostly insane and let's face it I need my job.
The worst bit is wanting people to understand you yet knowing they are incapable of such empathy. My boyfriend once used the word manic to describe my behavior and I immediately became manic on the inside. Suddenly my thoughts that at the time were quite settled began to frenzy and spiral out of control. On the outside, I remained silent. How could I respond to such an accusation? Was he experiencing my behavior as such? It turns out he had simply misspoken. He meant that I was being hyperactive. This one slip led me to consider if his life would be better without me for who could want a manic girlfriend?
Suicide is an odd thing. Many people will spew lies about it being a sinful choice. I am behooved to ask those people how babies choose to develop leukemia or how people of African descent choose for sickle cell anemia. Health is not a choice and too often we take a look at someone's perpetual melancholy and brush it off as a choice. The amount of self-loathing I have done because I have these thoughts is probably what would eventually be the catalyst for self-harm. Society has told me that I am less of a human if I truly consider myself to be as a being unworthy of life. They have shoved their heads so deep into their bibles or asses that they cannot see the truth: I just want it to stop.
People with mental health issues want to leave the dismal pit that is their lives. They want the paroxysms of rage, despair and just plain old pain to end. I have no idea what will stop my pain. Maybe it will be therapy, medication, a long vacation on the beach or a sleep from which I do not awaken. I do know that no one should ever share their opinion on how I should "choose" to be better.
I hope you understood what I did here. Be kind in the comments as this is extremely personal. Remember to try to have a few moments of honesty if you are going through something similar. I have found this experience to be truly cathartic.
XOXO,
IslandGyal
