Mental health
…a topic that so many people try to avoid talking about. I’m pretty sure I would lose quite a few readers just by starting my post off with these two words. Yet, those same two words together have become such a defining phrase in my life. I’ll admit that I was among those individuals who would become uncomfortable in a discussion involving mental health. Being a part of an Indian American cultural group didn’t make things easier. I’m a part of a culture that typically holds taboos against this topic. When we’re feeling really upset, friends may casually say to “just suck it up.” Adults may tell us to stop “stressing out” and that “everything will be fine.” We often hear relatives saying things like, “Oh you can’t enter the psychology field, you’ll go crazy with them.”
At my university, a study found that Indian Americans were among the least likely to seek treatment when it comes to mental health.
We don’t openly discuss the nature behind our mental health as easily as we do with other health concerns. One child may be afraid to bring up an issue just because no one around him has discussed something like this before. Another may try to handle everything on her own because everyone keeps telling her that everything will be fine. The reality is that everything cannot always be fine. Mental illnesses are just like any other health concerns. Without proper care and treatment, it will spread and cause more damage.
I wish I was able to overcome the stigma that is attached with mental health a lot earlier than I had. For two years, I knew that something was wrong. I wasn’t myself and everything in my life was changing. My grandfather passed away in July of 2013 and as soon as I got back from India, I began my freshman year of college in a new state with completely new people. I contributed the changes I was experiencing to the fact that I was starting a new life and was grieving the death of a loved one. Days passed. Then weeks, months and eventually almost two years passed; yet I continued justifying my feelings as a result of mourning.
Everyone grieves the death of a loved one; my entire family did and still remembers my dada on a daily basis. However, there is a difference between taking some time to remember a loved one and not doing anything but thinking about that person. There’s a difference between crying about a loss and only having an awful feeling in the pit of your stomach. Being sad is not the same as having no feelings at all. Not wanting to go out one night is not the same as never wanting to get up out of bed. Skipping a meal is not the same thing as losing your appetite or even binge eating at times. Not wanting to make one deadline is not the same thing as failing assignments or exams.
How could I, or anyone else, say that I was fine during those two years?
Whatever I was going through was draining me, both physically and mentally. No matter how much I wanted to fight it, it was there haunting me every single day of my life. I’ve always been the girl who wants to do things on her own. I think I am able to handle life’s challenges and am strong enough to support myself. In a lot of cases, I still believe that. In this case, I couldn’t be more wrong.
I enrolled in Psych 270: Intro to Psychopathology during my sophomore Winter term at The University of Michigan. That course essentially proved itself to be a pivotal point in my life. One of the first topics we learned about was depression. As our professor went over the DSM criteria that would diagnose Major Depressive Disorder, I wasn’t really shocked. I had a feeling that I had depression, but that lesson motivated me to take action.
I initially spoke to friends about my concerns. I’ll admit, one of the first people I talked to gave a reaction that I wasn’t expecting. He didn’t know what to say or do, and eventually said things such as “You don’t have depression,” and “At least you got it off your shoulders.” After that conversation, I began wondering if I was wrong this whole time.
If someone who was so close to me thought that I was fine then I must be, right? Wrong.
I went a few weeks being too scared to talk to anyone else about this situation. I tried telling myself that nothing was wrong and that I shouldn’t trouble anyone else. This did nothing but make things worse. My anxiety rose when I was around others, my depression kept me away from the outside world, and I felt completely alone.
That is until I went home during spring break. My sister had been along my side the whole time. Even being hundreds of miles away, she automatically knew that something was wrong. For months she tried pushing me to seek help because she couldn’t bear to see me going through this pain. I knew that I should, but didn’t have the right amount of confidence to do so. One day, I was hanging out with a small group of my closest friends. I decided that I needed to tell them. They have been by my side for so many years now and I built up the courage to believe that they had the right to know. I told them about everything that had happened within the past two years: what was going on, how I felt, why this was happening, everything. At the end, I looked around and noticed that there was deep concern in their eyes. However, that didn’t stop them from being the support system I needed. Like my sister, three dear friends said anything they could to try and push me towards therapy. They themselves may have not had that much knowledge on mental health, but they knew that something was wrong. Because of them and their support, I went back to school and booked an initial consultation at Michigan CAPS (Counseling and Psychological Services).
The people I interacted with at CAPS were incredible. There are a lot more students that seek therapy than I initially believed. Because of it being towards the end of the semester, CAPS was booked for the rest of the year. However, a staff member provided me with resources around the Ann Arbor area (that fell under my insurance and were walking distance so that I wouldn’t have to pay for transportation). She also kept in contact with me via email until I had made a decision. It was a wonderful feeling knowing that individuals in this health field care so much about your healthcare satisfaction.
At first, I was reluctant to go to therapy anywhere outside of my campus, not because of costs, but because I did not want my parents to find out. To clear things up, my family is ridiculously close. I talk to them on the phone everyday (multiple times!), I probably hang out with them more than my friends, and we talk to each other about everything! However, our very loving family is also extremely emotional. Some of us have a waterfall effect– If one person starts crying, another will, then another, and pretty soon the whole room may be crying. This is primarily describing my mom’s side of the family. However, over the years my dad’s strong rock nature has been passing over to my sister as he’s becoming more and more emotional.
So, it was inevitable that hearing about their younger daughter having mental health concerns would come as a shock. When I decided to tell them, that’s exactly what happened. Through tears, I made it quick and simple. With my sister by my side, I told my dad that I think I have depression, that I needed to go to therapy, and that I would need the insurance card. With a concerned hug and no further questions, he told me that I should do anything that I needed to do in order to feel better. To avoid any other tears, my sister and I rushed out to go watch a movie.
When I left the next day, my sister told me that my parents were both crying. They thought that it was their fault and were wondering what they did wrong because they believed they tried to give me every happiness in the world. This is exactly what I feared. In my opinion, my parents have given me everything and more. Because so little is known about mental disorders, I knew it would be quite difficult for my parents to understand that they are not at blame here.
Many mental health illnesses are caused by various factors, both environmental and genetic.
These unique factors come together in defining one person’s illness. Because each person is different, it can become even more difficult for others to understand what is going on. A lot of people who know what I am going through don’t exactly know what to expect. At the same time, I can’t expect them to know what or understand what I’m going through. One of the biggest things I’ve learned in the process is to not get angry or irritated with these people. Those individuals who become your support system are the ones who care and want to be a part of your life. They take the effort to comfort you or learn about your illness or even try to understand what you’re going through. Instead of getting angry when loved ones get frustrated, try to explain your situation or how you’re feeling. Instead of keeping things bottled up inside, express yourself to others and let your voice be heard. Most importantly, instead of thinking that you’re alone in all of this, realize that there are loved ones who are there for you and want to help.Even though many of them may not know what to say or do, they’re willing to learn.
There’s just so little information about mental health out there, too few people are willing to talk about mental health issues, and various societies hold far too many taboos or stigmas against the field of psychology itself. If something is bothering you or a loved one, don’t follow your society’s expectations and act like everything is okay. In the end, that is only hurting you and your loved ones even more. Through my experiences, I’ve learned that the best therapy is to find and hold onto that support system. Whether it’s just two people, or a whole group of friends and family, having that system to fall back on is what will lead to improvement. Just talking to someone for ten minutes can prevent depressive thoughts or calm down an anxiety attack. The biggest step to take for this is to express yourself and openly talk about mental health. You don’t have to tell everyone you come across in life that you have a certain disorder. But, for the progress of mental health and therapy, it’s extremely important to educate others on this field.
Let’s stop a college student from having suicidal thoughts and steer her towards psychological services. Let’s allow a younger child in a traditional family to realize that he can talk to his family about what he’s going through. Let’s show a parent that there are so many others going through this as well and that they are not alone. In order to promote psychological services that are provided, encourage a support system of family and friends, and to educate others on the various topics of mental health, there’s one step that we all need to to: Break the Silence.
