My experience with Mental Illness---

Sylvia Plath’s words— “Is there no way out of mind?”—captures the essence of living with mental illness, and how it has the capacity to haunt you completely. One moment you are uplifted and happy, and the next you collapse and fall. Whether diagnosed or not, each person living with mental illness experiences an internal discomfort and turmoil which severely affects their daily life and wellbeing.

I was diagnosed with anxiety disorder and clinical depression at the age of fourteen, but I had known this uneasiness, the nerve-wracking feeling which numbs you out and cripples you, long before I was diagnosed. I am sharing my story here because I know how it is to feel left out within your peers and being unable to talk about it with others, fearing that they won’t understand you. I want others to know that IT’S OKAY TO NOT BE OKAY, and having a mental illness does not make you weak, but rather strengthens you; makes you stronger, more empathetic and better. I’ve observed that there is a lot of stigma surrounding mental health. People often lack the words to describe what they are feeling, and many of them are not familiar that the emotions they are experiencing may be a sign of mental distress.

It all started from when I was in school. I despised going to school. School made me sick—I would vomit every morning before going—but I didn’t realize it was fear causing this reaction. My heart would race, and I dreaded waking up. I was just eleven, and I didn’t know what this feeling was. I still continued going, each day falling sick. Until the time came when just thinking about school made me sick and nauseated. I would feel my heart beat faster when I had to go to school the next morning. Waking up became frightening. I couldn’t understand what this feeling was called, or why it was even there in the first place.

But I did not stop. I continued going to school, ignoring my emotions, never discussing them with my parents or friends and not talking to anyone, until school horrified me. There came a time when I didn’t want to experience this haunting feeling. I wanted to escape it forever and I had realized by then that this feeling occurred due to ‘school’, and hence I stopped going. A day passed, then two, then three... then a week went by, then a month. Then six months, a whole year... and I didn’t go to school. Home was my heaven, and school became my hell. My parents, grandparents and everyone else who was concerned about me turned against me. They thought I was not going to school because I didn’t want to learn, and I couldn’t express in words how difficult it was for me to go! Their interpretation of why I was not going to school hurt me to the core. I was never the person who hated studies. In fact, when I was in kindergarten I loved school, and I loved to study. I loved my teachers, I was confident in my demeanor, I answered in the class, and school didn’t scare me. But as I started to grow up, school became the biggest villain in my life.

My parents’ lack of understanding made things worse. I used to cry the whole day thinking why no one could understand me. The problem was, no one asked me how I was feeling. They just made assumptions and discussed those among themselves, never bothering to talk to me directly; not giving importance to me or my feelings. They mocked my condition; said it was all planned and I was doing this for attention.

And I couldn’t defend myself because I was clueless about what I was feeling. I was afraid I was wasting my life, I was afraid I’d fail miserably in life and never live with dignity and respect. All I did those days was cry till I fell asleep.

But then my parents decided to take me to a psychiatrist. During my first visit to the shrink, I realized how difficult it was for me to open up. I felt extremely ashamed talking about myself. I felt ashamed sharing details about my personal life. I remember how I lied to the doctor even about the most basic questions, like “do you visit your village?” My answer to that question was, “yes I do, but I don’t enjoy it there” ... The truth was, I had never been to my village except for once and I had no clue if we’d ever visit again; and yet I lied. I didn’t understand back then what made me lie about things as small as whether I go to my village or not. Now, I know. I was ashamed. Shame is the central emotion I felt almost every time. I felt ashamed for staying home, I felt ashamed for not doing the smallest tasks, such as bathing. I had stopped taking a bath. I couldn’t gather the strength to do it. I used to think that there was no point in bathing. There was no point in doing anything... there was no point in living a life.

My therapist told me to gradually start going to school. I did. I did go for some days and then I quit again. I just could not bear the pain. I was not ready (and not interested) in making any effort. I felt hopeless. But I learned that being flooded with fear and hopelessness and anxiety will not stop what was going to happen, to happen. Life continued. I passed my tenth board exam, and now I am completing my Bachelor’s degree in Psychology from Mumbai University.

During my school years I visited more than ten psychiatrists, until I halted at Dr. Avinash D’Souza. His medication helped me a lot and forever grateful for the treatment he provided me. Looking back, I realize that the visit to the psychiatrist was a small yet significant step. Though I didn’t open up immediately, it was the beginning of my journey to understanding myself. Now that I am reflecting on my experiences with mental illness, one thing I can assure everyone is that THERE IS HOPE. Having a mental illness does not mean your life is over, and having problems with coping definitely do not mean that there’s no way out. I’d like the readers to know that seeking professional help was the best decision I took. Talking about your feelings, crying it out, being vulnerable is very, very helpful, and hence I’d like to urge everyone whoever has been having a hard time to go SEEK HELP and know that YOU ARE NOT ALONE IN THIS.

Today, I still have challenges, but I know how to face them. Therapy, support, and self-awareness have given me tools to cope, and I’m living a life I never thought was possible back then. If you’re struggling, please don’t hesitate to reach out to a mental health professional, a trusted friend, or a family member. There is help, and there is HOPE.