More Than Meets The Eye

Since I got a rude awakening of depression three years ago after my diagnosis, I have noticed a fallacy amongst many. I call it rude because neither had I educated myself on this matter despite of it happening under my nose nor thought it would ever get to me. Then, boom! I was knocked off my feet.

I got sensitive soon after, expected, right? I listen to conversations surrounding mental illnesses with precision. I take keen interest in words and the subtle absurd assumptions and conclusion mainly from people who give uninformed opinions. I am saying this with so much authority because I was there. The kind of talk that makes most mental illness patients stay under the radar. Those capable of functioning without restraints and institutionalization stay in the closet to fit in the society. Those in need of medication pop them in the dead of night and play a cat and mouse game with friends when refilling their prescription. Others just can’t stand the hiding game and stop their treatment prematurely.

The stigma isn’t confined in those without the experience, those who have ever experienced a mental illness vindictively point at those in their lowest moment, forgetting their journey or the fact that they are at a high propensity of falling into the situation. I have lost touch with a few friends who could not bear the burden of being labeled ‘insane.’ As soon as they had it together, they bid me goodbye, hid the “shameful” memory of their experience in their brain and intentionally forget the combination. Simply put ‘kuzikwa kwenye kaburi la sahau.’ Inspite of this decision, some end up flipping back and having an extremely unstable mental state that was avoidable.

On common feedback is the victims are asked to snap out of it. This to me is the most insensitive comment ever. Yah, I know you don’t get it, you assume it is all in the victims’ hands or head. Quick question for you; why don’t you normally pose the same question to your brother hit by a bout of relentless malaria or you hypertensive grand mum? This is it people, this is a real deal, a real ailment that calls for medical attention. By the time someone is consumed to the point where sanity eludes them, trust me, they have been to the lowest and seen the darkest days life has to offer.

Think of it this way; there are varied kinds of swimmers response when they get overwhelmed by the waters and see the possibility of drowning. Some are able to be calm and can easily be salvaged; actually, they mostly float back with little to no help. Naturally, our weights can be contained when we relax in water no matter the depth of the water body and the skill of the swimmer. Others panic uncontrollably and down they go. Think of mental illnesses in the same breadth, some people can get up their feet sooner than others due to genetic make-up and other factors while others need more help.

Has it ever crossed your mind that your suicidal sibling is not selfish? They might have had a less tough life in your judgment but they are unstable. Sure, they fear that your mother is going to be astounded with grief due to their demise, their children will have to grow without their parent. Trust me, it breaks their heart unfathomably but they are at the end of the rope, unable to function in the normal spectrum. These are people who feel helpless and hopeless even with so much in their disposal

With technology, the world is like a village now. With a touch of a button, one is able to access information of an event happening miles away and even attend online. This has connected us in one level and ripped us apart in another. We don’t hold deep conversations any more; instead, we are constantly checking the stream of information on our news feed. The videos, the images, the intriguing texts all inform us and stab us in the chest, especially when we see successful stories that seem out of reach for us. Families should improve the off gadget times and hold real conversations that can unearth overwhelming situations. Let’s bring the outdoor back, get to the world and experience. We no longer need to mask our true feelings to impress the people we don’t know, some we don’t even like. Let’s be real, get off our high horses and relate better. Expression of emotion is not a show of weakness, rather, it is strength. Let’s encourage true and real conversations

So, you ask me how you can come through. Please be patient with them. They are totally not in control; in bi polar disorder cases for example, you encounter two people trapped in one. They aren’t lazy neither are they loud, they are sick in need of hormones to balance the episodes or therapy or both. It mostly takes longer for some people to get the right combination. Let’s not be quick in writing each other off, actually no one should ever be written off. Every emotion expressed is valid, be it anger, apathy or joy.

Finally, it is important that we all get educated in this matter since it can happen to the better of us, we are not immune. Actively listen to one another and exercise patience.

 

Depression Claimed a Creative Mind

Everybody has a let out, a ventilation, the place where piled up pressure is released. Mine is in music, writing and watching oooh, let me add exercise to the list. If I were to rank all these, writing will top it, I write my feelings, literally. At my lowest, I type my feelings away. My eldest brother, Hudson, was an artist.  He drew with passion and colored enthusiastically.

Hudson was short in stature and naturally quiet, the most laid back member of our family. He loved cartoons and spent his time even as an adult watching them, they were intriguing and from then ideas for his art were birthed. Whenever possible, he’d choose a serene location and have his brush, ink and paper at hand. Hours in, he’d engage in his skill fervently, his ventilation.

Hudson was intelligent too, lived in the days when grades made the whole difference and the difference he made, setting the bar high. As high as his high school grade was, it was lower than what he hoped for and was capable of and wanted to give it another shot but as fate would have it, he did not retake the class. All this in addition to failed attempts to go overseas to further his studies took a toll on him.

I don’t remember the genesis of his break out but I know my silent brother got louder at some point, his thoughts weren’t coherent with his speech. He acted out time and again and started visiting the mental clinic where he found solace. He was on medication which I later found out were antidepressants that caused him to slow down, too much for comfort. His weight went up the roof and the intelligent him was off the window.

Until I was diagnosed with depression, I wasn’t the supportive sister that I should have been. I didn’t understand the change, neither did I seek to deeply know what was ailing him. I wanted my eldest brother back, I wanted him to be a man and stand up for himself and the rest of us. I wanted him to style up and shake off the insanity.

My brother, more than anything needed to be cared for, he needed to be reassured that all will be well and most all to get the much needed emotional support. Thank you sister Nancy for the time you spent with him and the love you showed him. You were consistent, patient and most of all empathetic.

As we mark five years since his demise, I can't help but stretch a helping hand to somebody and anybody in need of mental health help. All we've got to do is notice unprecedented changes and reach out to people around us, you could be saving someone from an early grave.

Maintain Sanity in Insane Times

A wind of uncertainty has blown over the world and has been hanging over humanity’s head for over to 2 months, Kenya has felt the heat for a month. The defining moment came during, the president’s press briefing on Sunday, 15^th March 2020. On this day, learning in institutions was suspended indefinitely, sending learners and teachers home.

At this point, it had become apparent that more measures had to be put in place to keep the corona virus at bay. We were earlier advised to keep off social gatherings but this had to be set as a rule of the thumb to keep citizens safe. The hotel and entertainment industry was hit hard as flights were stopped, religious gathering were also put on hold. Left running were the essential service providers, mainly medics and security service personnel.

The message on the airwaves is a constant and consistent reminder for people to stay home. Staying home is relaxing, fun, offering a great opportunity for family to bond. On the flip side, too much of anything is poisonous and solitude is bound to rake a toll on people. Mental illnesses creep in at such times when one feels desolate, helpless, hopeless, stuck, angry and hungry. One can easily reach a breaking point.

The media isn’t making it any easier as they share the soaring numbers of the newly infected and those who have succumbed to the ailment. As informative as it is intended, it carries hopelessness with it. Below are the tips that can help you maintain sound mental state in this pandemic:

1     1.      Ignite your passion

Find something you are passionate about and engage in it in this season when you have a lot of time in your hands. It could be reading, writing, watching inspiring content.

2.         Exercise

When you exercise, feel good hormones are released in your system, something that can keep you afloat in the wake of slow times. Large space is good for exercising but due to the pandemic, it is important you do it at the confines of your home.

3.        Do not obsess on the statistics

In as much as numbers don’t lie, seeing developed countries with better medical machinery struggling doesn’t make one hopeful.

4.       Use the media channels to your advantage

Video conferencing can keep you connected to the outside world. Look at it this way, the money you’d have used as fare or fuel to your friend’s place can buy data bundles and have you connected via zoom.

5.       Soul search

God has a way of drawing beauty out of ashes. Use this time to soul search, write that business plan, start that book that your tight schedule couldn’t allow you to do. 

Covid-19 is not a death sentence; many have been healed or cured. Seek help as soon as you realize you may be exposed to the corona virus. Above all, this too shall pass.

Darkness In My Light

The lows have been too low for the past two weeks. I have dragged myself out of bed every morning and have run my days like a zombie. Like the ground isn’t capable of holding my weight, I have lain down from being lightheaded. My functionality has been at the bare minimum, unable to stretch, my concentration is like that of a 5 year old, only difference play was off the table.

The dreaded moment is here; close to three years of sanity seem to be slamming the door at my face. Walls are carving in and everything in me is just exhausted, stretched beyond comfort. I had a depression relapse and it’s all coming back, a feeling I don’t wish even for the least of my friends. Its slow and draining, capturing you from the blues, when you least expect and takes away all the will power and zeal for life.

I’ve dubbed myself a depression survivor for a long time because, for as long as I haven’t had a relapse, it seemed as a thing of the past. Sometimes, the past creeps back in the dead of night and engulfs my entire being. Making me doubt if I was ever well to start with. My joints are sore, hands weak and legs can no longer hold my weight, they have given in to the weight of the world.

With the physical bodily strain, I hoped against all hope that that is all it was, a physical illness. Malaria was my closest bet. Malaria does this too, it can make your muscles feel sore but the female anopheles mosquito hasn’t gotten to me this time. I made it but was instead caught out by the darkness. The dark cloud covered my head and stopped me from moving, from seeing the beauty that is life.

You think there’s stigma surrounding some physical ailments, wait till you meet people conversing about someone dealing with a mental illness. The undertones, the side eye look and the emotive smile tells it all. The victims have to deal with the fact that their bodies have given up on them under the weight of the harsh world.

Adele's "Should I give up or just keep chasing pavements, even if leads nowhere.” Is the song on replay. I choose to keep chasing, to live.

I am still hopeful that I’ll see a brighter day, a day when the ache and the pain will be long gone, when concentrating will no longer be an uphill task. When I’ll no longer feel the need to isolate myself, when my feeding and sleeping patterns will be consistent and predictable. If and when this day will not come, I have peace in my soul and know that it shall be well.

Her Well Is Low

I heard the scream, an ear-piercing scream in one of our classes. I could only make out the skeleton of the voice, it was feminine and heavy with emotions. It was a literal cry for help that could not be mistaken for a prank on graduation day. I dashed to the direction where the voice was emanating from to flesh up the voice, give it a name and purpose.

After a long and gruesome year, the term was finally coming to an end and as is the custom at our school, we prepared for a graduation ceremony, one of a kind this time. The compound was filled to capacity, learners dressed to kill, teachers and parents weren't left behind. The decorations were at the best we’ve ever had, the sun was up and we were set for a great day ahead.

As I moved to the classroom, I could already tell that the screams that had rendered the air had sent a wave of confusion to the pupils and teachers alike. I hastened my steps to find out. Her hands were on her head and the illusion of the loss of a loved one crossed my mind. “Mercy*, what’s wrong?” I asked. As if I wasn’t there, she kept screaming, attracting attention even further. She didn’t answer, she was buried in her pain, sorrow and anguish, she had had enough, her body was in excruciating pain, I later found out.

I was lost for words, I didn’t know whether I should get the door or let her out; whether I should be kind and loving or harsh to slap her back to reality. Soon, I noticed that her body could not take it anymore. She couldn’t play nice any longer, she couldn’t have it together anymore. She got out of the room, still wailing to the top of her lungs, attracting the attention of the young ones in the vicinity. It was supposed to be a jovial day but her body could not submit to that fact.

I quickly moved her to the next room and later asked someone to get her daughter who happened to be around for the day. She stormed in, I presume she had gotten wind of what had transpired. She was confused but all too familiar with these events. I hugged Mercy, tight, she was still inconsolable. I wanted her to feel the warmth of love and care. The daughter joined in the hug and tears. This was one of the saddest moments I’ve ever experienced, I almost lost it but had to pull myself together for the sake of this family whom a mental disease had robbed them joy and stability.

HOPE (Live it)

It’s a little over a year since I took the last pill that brought my sanity back. After six months of taking antidepressants I could finally have it together. For those reading this for the first time, I am a depression survivor, I’d like to use my experience and lessons learnt to impart others. What pulled me through upon getting the right diagnosis was the information I found online, mainly from those who are in the battlefield or have survived depression.

Most medical conditions leave us hooked and dependent on them pills, you can call them drugs, legal ones, of course. When I started off the treatment I got mixed feedback, some psychologists believed I’ll be dependent forever while others thought that my situation was manageable, they kind of minimized it. I remember this particular lady I met in Mombasa during a play in the theatre where I was given a chance to speak of my experience, she pulled me aside and with love and empathy in her eyes whispered “you know this is life long, right?” I kept the faith that I’ll be off medication soon but another thought lingered in my mind that it might not end.

Personally, I did what many medics find profane. I tapered of the medication myself, that is slowly reducing the dosage to point I could finally do without it. Just glad it worked but don't try this at home. Depression is one complex condition and in as much as we try to establish the exact cause, medics attribute it to inability of the body to handle stressful situations in a prolonged span of time depleting the hormones in the brain that manage bodily functions. So if you just got your diagnosis, having a relapse that is making you doubt if you’ll ever make out, you have been at it for just too long or if you are reading this for a loved one, there is hope.

It’ll be a misgiving to presume I’m speaking for all survivors but I’ll share from my point of view. Going forward, I have been sensitive to the triggers that get me on to the sick bed and I’ve been quick to avoid them for a sober future. I’d like to take this opportunity to share the lessons I’ve learnt in this journey:

1.      Prayer and inspiration kept me going.

Even in the saddest of days, I hang in the thin string of hope that God is able to see me through. Truth is, being saved and dealing with depression was the biggest test of my faith but from it arose a lady confident in God’s purpose and ability. Whenever you question yourself, always remember God does everything for a reason and your test is within your ability.

2.      You are not alone.

There are more like you out there, some are aware and hiding, others are in denial whereas few talk about it.  Many disease related deaths are not attributed to the disease itself but rather the depression that creeps in the dark of night. I’m not saying this to scare you but to give you hope,  I hope it serves the purpose.

3.      There is no magic wand.

You are unique, you might need both medication and counselling or one of the two, you might need medication in some seasons in your life, shortly or it can as well be lifelong. Be open to what works best for you.

4.      Recognize your triggers and establish your safe haven.

Music did it for me and when things got too heated and I felt like my head was exploding I kept away from the environment that was brought about the stressful situation. This isn’t a sign of weakness, just self love.

5.      Peace comes from within.

Study shows that most depression victims are artists! Shocking? The same way we allow our creative mind to wander around and create creative content so should we create time to love on ourselves and speak greatness. Forgive yourself, don’t beat yourself for mistakes, perfection is an illusion.

6.      Keep away from drugs.

Drugs interfere with our brain function and since depression is connected to the hormones in the brain, drugs will interfere greatly with sanity and even reduce chances of survival.

Some people will attribute many things you do, say, or not to your ailment. You may feel the need to explain yourself considering the harsh judgement. You may even question your sanity but keep the faith, it will pay off. For all the people that have fallen victims to this menace knowing or unknowingly must not tie their lives to this particular season of their lives. Rather, they should faithfully take the pills or attend counselling sessions and slowly allow sanity to sip in.

                                                      

Silence the Voice

From a tender age she saw Dad assaulting Mum,

Severally, they ran away, seeking refuge from family,

He came for them, his dear family, promising not to even hurt a fly!

Family unity was more important than revenge,

They got back home,

Silence the voice in her head.

Few days back, he unleashed the animal inside

This time, ready to kill, he swore on his mother’s name

Spouse or child, he knew no difference,

Hitting them in inhumane ways,

She blocked the hit that would have decided her mother’s fate

Silence the voice in her head.

The final hit on her mother’s hind limbs rendered her immobile,

Her mother left on all fours, bleeding profusely,

She grabbed her brother and ran away to a faraway land,

The desert was greener than home,

Two days they traveled, sleeping in deranged homes,

All they had was each other,

Silence the voice in her head.

A Good Samaritan got her to her aunt’s place,

Their senses were dead, numb,

Few months later, her mother succumbed to her injuries,

As if the grave was seeking vengeance, it took him too, two months later,

She sat stature in her new home, unable to feel, see, hear and smell,

Silence the voice in her head.

Her body and mind could not take any more of it, it snapped

She’s now on antidepressants, doesn’t worry much,

But it takes away her necessary thoughts too,

But it’s better than the old her,

Silence the voice in her head.