There is no denying the work that is being done in regard to mental illness. Still, this scope has only reached a very minimum percentage of the billions of people residing on this Earth. Majority of the people, as always, still like to act as if it does not exist. There are two reasons for this, in my understanding.
- They are afraid of the illness, so much that they think it better not to address or acknowledge it.
- They believe that it is nothing more than a fabrication of the modern world; corrupting young minds with texts of liberation.
Regardless, because of their mass proportion, they themselves are working on the campaign of eradicating the concepts of this awareness from all minds. This is another reason why most people suffering from mental illnesses have diagnosed themselves, mainly because psychologists are not to be consulted.
This has consequences of its own, very real and complex and so far rooted in our society’s and mind’s, which if not treated will become the end of us all.
However, that is not what this is about. This is about expressing, releasing all that buried deep inside; for my own sake and also for the sake of others.
Many times before, I have tried explaining what depression is and what it feels like, or what it is like to have a mental illness and because this field is so vast, I also come up with another way to get to people, about the intensity of this unapproachable emotion.
I did several online courses last year, on Psychology, depression, and neurology. It was more of a way of gaining a practiced understanding of all these issues. In one of my courses, the professor argued that the root of thoughts and everything subjective, (there is a difference between mind and brain. The brain is the matter inside our skulls, whereas mind is the home to cognitive activities, thought processing, decision making, emotions, and feelings are subjective; they can’t be accessed in the world of physical matter), were simply emotions. Everything that we do is always linked to our basic primary emotions.
Subconsciously in our minds, we notice everything, the way a person is talking to us, his reaction and behavior, his body language. We remember all the times, he made a promise and never kept it. We take note of the tiny details without being aware. This act forms our emotions. When someone has a habit of making a promise and not keeping it, soon enough, with the feeling of being hurt and betrayed. and not taken as a priority, we will start acting a bit cold to that particular person. From there onward, our entire demeanor of addressing that person will change, based on a single emotion.
Similarly, if we go on with the theory of Tabula Rasa (blank slate), this argument can be implemented according to the professor.
When a baby is born with a tabula rasa, he/she experiences things. He/she develops a feeling, based on its encounter with the world and with that it can finally begin at developing an idea and formulating theories, based on emotions.
If the core of the human beings, their entire cognitive process, their subjective begins can be dependent on basic emotions, then who is to say that depression and mental illness are not because of emotions and furthermore, can’t our minds be clouded by depression based on our experience with raw emotions, rendering us incapable of performing accurately.
Another of my professor, stated, that a mind can go wrong, in terms of its feelings and how they are doing in the outside world. Sigmund Freud suggested that mental disorders are in another term, emotional disorders.
But that is all scientific research. They are all hypothesis, experiments, and theories; some of which might be true and some might not be. I am here backing the theory that they might all be true. I can say this not with any scientific discovery rather with my personal experiments and understanding.
Two years ago, I had a perfect idea of what I wanted to be. I handpicked inspiration from different courses and developed an aim for myself. I knew why I had chosen that aim. I was very passionate and motivated and hopeful. Then, life presented me with circumstances. I fell into the midst of depression. Here is the interesting part, because I was never diagnosed by any professional psychologist, almost everyone will not agree with me that what I was suffering from was depression. Some people might have even said, that this was my cry for attention. That this had been my drama all along and I only wanted pity for myself.
I knew what I was going through. With or without any prescriptive diagnose, I know it was depression because that had been the darkest period of my life so far. I remember every detail.
There was this darkness all around me. The lack of everything pleasant. As if, I had been taken a prisoner and was being kept in a dark cell, all alone with no one but myself and there I stayed for months. I was a being held in my own mind. I remember the room where I spent those days. I remember the color of the walls and the only furniture it had. I remember the door, and a slight slit in the door, which showed me the dark alleyway of outside world. The thick air and the creaking of that metal door. The decorations on the door. My moist hands.
On the outside world, I was breaking down. I had panic attacks and mental breakdowns. I know how far I was willing to go to end that agony and I know the things I did for my escape.
On the verge of everything, when I had lost almost everything that made me, me. My mind gave up. It surrendered. It wanted to preserve the last of who I was and thus, it hid me. I repressed everything. All of it and moved on as if nothing had happened in those months.
It isn’t where it ends. However horrifying, this might have seemed, this is not the end of any mental illness. This is the intense importance of it, that this is not the end. There is no end. It keeps on happening.
Today, I have everything to make me happy, even though it doesn’t. I am moving on in my life. Looking forward to the aims, I set two years ago. The only difference is that now, I no longer believe in that aims. I will still pursue it because I have nothing else to pursue. Due to that depression, I lost all belief in being inspired. I am a freelancer today, and whilst applying for jobs, I most of the time, don’t put out the effort in my proposals because I am not inspired by anything. I am just a dummy, moving around, carrying out my life, the way I was also supposed to, by the rules of society.
Why am I not putting in an effort to find inspiration from around me? Simply, because I am afraid that it might happen again. Because I know that in order to actually find that hope again, everything that I repressed will have to resurface and I’ll have to face it. And I don’t see the point of putting myself through all that, just to do something and die. What is the point of anything, if in the end you just die.
However, that is not how my story ends. Miracles happen, and because the room has been a fabrication of my mind, I took someone there with me, in my days. That someone always kept reminding me, of the goodness of the world. These days, he is on the mission of reminding me to find my passion.
The point is, depression and mental illness are very real and very dangerous. It is simply not a phase. It even has connections with our innate brain and subjective being. It is much more. There is an after effect to it and that being, it forms a cloud. The cloud, is constantly, hovering over our heads and all it does, it interferes with the mind.
It creates confusion and fears. It blinds our judgment. It makes a person lose confidence and brings into this world constant self-doubts, bringing ourselves down. No one can rise to their full potential with it tailing over their heads.
Maybe there is no escape from it either so acceptance of its magnitude might be the only key to survival.