Ordinarily Existing

I suffered from depression for a year before I finally realised what it really was. I never thought of it, I was clueless when I went through it. And for that, it was hell for me. I knew about depression from only its name. I don't really understand what it was, I have never cared. Not until someone told me. So, for a year, I suffered. Because going through something that you have no idea about, is tough. You have no control. You have no information on how to get help. It's like you are blindfolded, walking through a path with flames in front of you. Waiting to burn you to ashes and destroy you.

Thankfully, I was saved. Well, not cured, but saved from walking the path blindly. There was an exhibition at my university about mental health. I was never interested in any of those for it never have occurred to me before how important it is. So I went through the exhibition with curiosity. At this point, my depression was bad enough. I distanced myself from my friends, I spent most of my time alone. I came across a booth where you can do tests such as personality test and all of that. I decided to take one. It was DASS (Depression Anxiety Stress Scale).

I got goosebumps when I read through the questions as I can relate to every single one of them.

I felt I wasn't worth much as a person. Hell yeah.

I was unable to become enthusiastic about anything. Ticked.

I felt that I had lost interest in just about anything I did.

I felt that life was meaningless. All the time.

I went through every question and handed the test back to them. “We will call you once we get the result.” They said. Sure enough, three days later I got a call and an appointment set.

Severe depression and anxiety. That was the result.

Now, you have to now that to conclude a person has depression only through one test is never right. A diagnosis have to be done.

Nevertheless, the counsellor offered me to meet her for a few sessions (which I quit later because she decided i was okay after three sessions.) During one of those sessions, the story where she told me I was stranded on an Island hits home.

“I want you to imagine yourself stranded on an island. There is no one else there. Everyone you know left. You are on yourself. Now tell me, who can help you get out of that place.”

“Mmmm, I don't know. No one. I guess I'll die.”

She smiled. “Think again. Think hard. Who can help you get out of there?”

“No one?!” Now I started to get irritated. “You said everyone has left. So no one. I have no one to help me. I'll be alone and gonna starve to death.”

Again, she smiled patiently. “Really? No one?”

“Yes,” I replied coldly.

“Don't you see it?” She raised her eyebrow. “You are there. YOU. You can help yourself. Even though no one is around, you can still survive, right? By finding your own food, making a shelter for yourself. Making an effort to save yourself. It is you.”

I froze. I looked at her with my eyes wide. Shit, she was right.

“You are stuck inside your own misery that you don't look at yourself as someone that can save you. Yes, help might be great but it will be pointless if you don't want to help yourself. You are your own saviour. At the end of the day, no matter how much lending hands appear in front of you, if you don't reach out your hand it will all be useless.”

“I.. I ne.. I never think of it that way.”

What she said was tattoed in my mind for years. I hold on to that ever since.

I didn't get professional help years later. Because I thought I never need them. However, the story reminds me if I never get help, if I never reach out myself, no knights in shining armour is gonna save me. This is up to me. I have to save myself.

Never let your struggles clouded your judgement. Save yourself. Whatever it takes. Get the hell out of that island.

Love, Ordinarily Existing