Living on the edge…
I must have been 16 or 17 the first time someone referred to me as depressed. I had unconsciously picked up the habit of peeling my lips till they’d start bleeding, then stop, wait for it to dry and repeat the cycle.
One afternoon, I was lost in my new found past time when my sister screamed out in horror- we had always shared a room for most of our growing up. She ran to the kitchen and half-wept to my mum as she described what I was doing. I followed in her heels, ready to see what judgement will be meted on me and the corresponding sanction, only for my mum to calmly respond, “awwwh she must be depressed.” I curiously asked why she said so and she responded that one of the signs is engaging in a self-destructive habit, something around engaging in activities that harm you but still revelling in it. I shrugged and went back to the room while my sister had to painfully witness the expression of my new found habit for many more years.
Let me add that my mum is not one of the calmest people you’ve met but we had just gone through a turbulent, life-altering experience as a family and were individually trying to make sense of our new reality. Her response was to relax on some of the absurdities that guarded our household — I can’t get over when we had to fast for 24hrs for something that wasn’t that important to me. Instead she focused on being superhuman. It was as ridiculous as if anyone had said, “Mummy I don’t feel like breathing,” she’d have provided backup lungs to do it till you’re ready.
Till date, my sister still assesses my well being through the state of my lips. I could take a selfie, after choosing the best angles and post on social media, while waiting for my, “we-don’t-deserve-this-beauty”comments, she’ll send a DM like, “your lips look really bad. How are you? I’m praying for you.” How the rest of the world don’t see this but her, I may never know.
This period where my mum thought a number of her children were depressed coincided with when her paths crossed with a certain pentecostal preacher who seems to promote the belief that doctors are next in line to the devil, hence we never sought medical advice at the time. Being a scientist she knew that one needed to secrete certain hormones to combat depression, along came the gym subscriptions, swimming lessons, tennis classes, choir rehearsals, etc. My siblings and I only had to indicate interest and she’d make it happen. I don’t even want to mention how much our family income was at the time, it was so laughable that we were indulging in these activities while skirting around the poverty line.
It will be another decade and half later before I’ll decide to seek medical help, asides my lips which are now obviously scarred for the world to see, I have indulged in many other self destructive habits (which I’ll spare you), experienced mental breakdowns, shunned making deep connections with other humans and on many occasions didn’t want to wake up to face the world. I knew I was fighting a battle that I couldn’t win alone and decided to conscript other more experienced soldiers.
2020 tested me on all fronts. I didn’t have the luxury of working with my favourite colleagues who often times I’d draw strength from to keep pushing, I couldn’t go to church to engage in one of my favourite hobbies that keeps me creative or listen to my pastor deliver some of his energizing sermons that does that, energizes you. The virtual alternatives at some point were just amassing screen time and somehow in the midst of a nationwide lockdown, I made an illegal trip interstate to see my parents because deep down I knew I had maxed out whatever strength I had to keep going.
What does it mean to live depressed? It means being ambitious and going for it but all the while being afraid that your mind may fail you. It could be smack in the midst of an important project, it can say I’m done and there’s not one thing you can do about it. It means being so needy for positivity and affirmation that when you’re around negativity, your mind will rather gobble it up faster despite all the positives you’ve fed it. It means shutting people out at the slightest provocation because self-acceptance is enough chore as it is. It means walking through a dark tunnel and being at peace with the fact that there may be no light at the end of the tunnel but staying the course all the same.
Shout out to everyone that battles anxiety or depression. For everyday that you wake up and decide to live on purpose, be reminded that you’re the stronger species.
Ephesians 6:10–12.