🚧 my second submission on mental health, and beyond. Proceed with caution!
Song: Together in this by Natasha Bedingfield
To better interact with the content, you can go back a few steps and read about the beginning before proceeding. As always with medical drama series, proceed with caution. This is a very detailed premise of dealing with mental health: from Bipolar, PTSD, ADHD, and more. I’m not an expert, but I have myriads of experience, and I hope sharing my story counts.
September being Suicide Awareness Month feels apt, so in tune with my own medical drama. The beauty that comes with awareness months like this is that they are ripe and filled with resources.
A question was raised, and it lingers still…
One Thursday evening, I was dilly-dallying at the office. After my therapy session and a visit to the psych, I was worn out, but not in a bad way. As I waited for my next meeting, I decided it was time to disturb my friends in the office. As we milled around the garage, a question was raised: “Bethany, have you ever dealt with depression?”
It was asked in Kiswahili, so just imagine a more brutal version of the question.
I hesitated, as I always do. Because, where do I even start from?
YES! I wanted to shout. All my life, I’ve been surrounded by an epic mental health drama: my mum with Bipolar, my grandma with depression, and now me, with both PTSD & ADHD.
But my yes was more subtle. More timid. Because the world conditioned me to be ashamed. To be silent. To dwell in the shame and accept the fate.
Navigating the storms, fighting thinking it will end.
As if that wasn’t enough, the next question came: how did I deal with it?
And yes, the answer was, I escaped.
I ran as far away as my little legs could carry me. I found ways to shield myself from the pain by indulging in sleep. Sleep was my addiction for the longest time. It was already there, but now, multiplied.
And when it wasn’t enough, I chose adventure.
I chose little things to look forward to. I climbed mountains. I travelled. I changed hobbies every other morning, until I could no longer do anything else other than sit with my thoughts.
When running is no longer enough
When the running could no longer fill the gaps, could no longer answer the questions, I sat down.
Countless times I tried therapy. Countless times I went to the psychologists and psychiatrists. I failed and tried a thousand times more. I failed but figured out a way out.
And now, three years later, I finally got the answers I had so desperately sought.
Answers that snowballed into my life, literally came in like a wrecking ball.
Stay a minute, just take your time
And now, I find ways to stay.
I measure my life in energy vs. time. I measure my days based on what I can do, not all that I should do. I rest when needed. I rest, a lot. I find joy in the little things. I find beauty in the mundane. I journal whenever I can. I find routines that help me stay grounded. I discover myself through love. I build my friendships and create time for them. I surround myself with love.
I try, though it is very hard, to go with the flow. The flow does not always appreciate me, but I try to find it and go with it.
I read about death, to understand how to truly live. I dwell in the present and let go of the past. I reduce the need for the future to be perfect and instead let it unfold before my eyes. Slowly and surely, I know I will make it through, and it will be glorious.
See you in the next one!
Interesting how I always find myself writing articles in hospital rooms. Definitely a new tradition loading »>
Okay, to be continued, because a point has to eventually be made.