Let’s talk about depression

I have been treating my blog like my private diary. Yes, I do realise that; and I’m glad that all this blogging has been therapeutic in a sense. It’s always nice to share a bit of your life with the world ( read: 5 strangers who skim through my blog) and at the same time, not worry about writing a great copy or a gripping lede.

I’m thinking about depression today, because it’s suddenly in the spotlight. Deepika Padukone, the Indian actress, spoke about it in a show; the Germanwings co-pilot was supposedly going through depression; someone my sister knew killed himself because he was depressed. It’s almost an epidemic now. And it is by all means a disease that must be addressed just like say, cancer. Yet, thanks to the stigma associated with this condition, in India at least, there is hardly any support system in place for people going through depression.

Another reason why this resonates with me is that I spent the best years of my life feeling depressed, lonely and suicidal. What made it a nightmare was the fact that I had zero support. My family was least bothered – in fact, it annoyed the hell out of them and they’d keep asking me to snap out of it. Which is ridiculous. With my friends, and at college and later at work, I would try to be as normal as possible, pretend that everything was cool. I’d even make jokes about my situation just in case they thought I was not okay.

I remember feeling powerless, hopeless, bitter, cynical but I never let it affect my work. Instead, the office became my refuge; immersing myself in work was my way of shielding suicidal thoughts. It also helped that I loved my job, and was having fun with my colleagues and friends. I was trying to distract myself constantly and I have had terrible breakdowns on many occasions and spent nights wide awake, crying and struggling to sleep.

I was afraid that I’d be ostracised if I was vocal about my depression. What if my friends stopped talking to me? What if I lost my job? So I did what my family trained me to do over the years – keep your thoughts to yourself, suppress your emotions and always, smile, be nice. Because we don’t want your neighbours or your relatives talking about you in a bad way, right? Abs0frikkinlutely. Can’t argue with that now, can we.

Anyway, for the next four years, I put my bravest face on. It was a facade, but I had to do that to survive and stop myself from becoming a complete wreck. There were days when I’d just go to the terrace of my apartment and wonder what’d it be like to jump; or walk really further into the sea in the hope that the waves would eventually take me.

But thankfully, better sense prevailed. I went to a psychologist on the sly because my parents were against the idea of me visiting a ‘pythiakara (mental) doctor’. I had a couple of sessions, and though it did not change my life, it made me believe that I’m a normal person and not a weirdo like my family thought I was. I got my family to meet the pyschologist later, and there was some drama what with the subject being my then boyfriend (M, whom I’m now married to) of more than four years whom my folks were refusing to meet, for whatever reason.

Things did work out eventually. Not because my parents changed their mind – they never did, and I doubt they are 100% okay with it now – but because I made a conscious choice to leave behind all that trauma and start a new life with the one person who was there for me, every single time.

Even then, my depression did not just vanish magically. After moving in with M too, there were days when I’d wake up crying, or break down in the middle of a conversation. I was trying my best to deal with my past, and failing, many times. It took months of resolve to consciously feel positive or at least fake it till it became a habit. It took months of reading articles and books on positivity and happiness, and trying to incorporate some of the practical aspects of it into my everyday life. It took tremendous amount of perseverance and effort to wake up every morning and be grateful for my life, for my struggles, for my past. And focus on myself, on M, on the two of us together.

It was definitely not easy, because depression doesn’t just cure itself. It doesn’t heal with time. And it wasn’t easy to forget all that I’d been through. It wasn’t easy to forgive my parents. I guess, I have come to accept that things couldn’t have been any different – my parents were like that and nothing can change them; I cannot rewrite what already happened. We never spoke about it and I don’t know if we ever will – whenever I made an attempt to discuss my problem, it led to heated arguments and I ended up feeling much worse. But we have sorted out our differences to some extent now and despite the fact that my parents and I were in a bad space then, on hindsight, we loved each other and did not want to see each other be sad.

In a sense, I’m grateful for it now, because it restored my belief in my own self – it gave me the confidence and the resolve to do something I really believed in. But most importantly, the fact that I was in a positive environment with an amazing guy who loved me unconditionally, helped me get over my depression. It was such a refreshing and liberating change in comparison to the environment I was used to until then.

Some people tell me I’m lucky that it worked out, that M was trustworthy, unlike their boyfriends. But no. I was unlucky as shit with life. I just happened to choose well, unlike them. And fight for what I believed in, when the easier option was to chicken out. And luck had very little role to play in it. A lot of my friends are super lucky in that they have extremely supportive families who let them do anything they want – what a privilege that is. I really wish I had that, because it would have made my life so much easier and happier.

A friend of mine is now going through depression. And though we are far away in different countries, I’m trying to be there for her. Thankfully, unlike me, she is vocal about her problem, she has identified it, and she is being treated for it medically. I’m sure she’ll be okay. Because the takeaway from my experience is that, love is the answer. I usually don’t say such things, but honestly, without love, freedom and strength, I wouldn’t have been able to tide over my bad times. And I can’t tell you how incredibly grateful I am for being able to write about all this now without breaking down or losing control of my emotions.

The unhurried life – 2

This has been one of the most unproductive weeks of my entire life, work-wise. Recovered from a terrible bout of cold and cough, and I’ve been incredibly lazy since then. I really do hope I regain my focus soon. And please tell me everyone goes through this phase! I’m feeling super guilty that I haven’t written a thing in two full weeks.

But on the brighter side, this lull has helped me enjoy the little things in life that I generally overlook because I’m always in a mad rush. Like this beautiful sunset from my balcony this evening.

Slowing down a bit really helps. Even the everyday mundane things begin to seem magical. The smell of boiling milk, the aroma of freshly brewed decoction, the pretty flowers and bougainvillea in my society, the sight of an airplane drifting through a glorious evening sky, the insane number of stars I get to see on some nights (Yes, Delhi is not such a bad place), the pleasant breeze in the evenings and mornings…If this were a movie, this would be the point where I realise I’m in love. But no, it’s not.

I think I’m more aware of myself, my people and surroundings now. How did I achieve that in one week? I believe it has to do with lack of stress. I thrive in a stressful environment, I like to be busy all the time, but I failed to see what it would be like to be stress-free, to keep negativity at bay and focus on good, happy things. And most importantly, to be grateful. For every damn thing. It makes you appreciate life so much more, I swear.

Another thing that has perhaps contributed to a slight change in my attitude is that I have made an effort to connect with my friends. And that does not mean Whatsapp or Facebook, but actually picking up the phone and talking to them. Saying ‘yes’ to parties. Being open to meeting new people. Being able to see people for who they really are without judging them. It can do wonders to your overall mood, trust me. That, and my obsession with brisk evening walks. Good coffee. Good food. And great sex. You don’t need much else, I tell you.

But knowing me, I can snap and go back to my old cynical, depressing ways any time. I’m just hoping I can sustain this spirit and make it better with every passing day.