Reflections on Depression: World Mental Health Day

Something that still bothers me - a decade into the future - is how difficult it was for me to get help with my mental health when I was a teen.

Doctors didn’t take me seriously - they brushed it off as me being dramatic or excessively stressed over exams. I had one doctor tell me “maybe you just need to get over it?” (thanks, I’m cured) and another say “you still seem to have a sense of humour - depressed people don’t have a sense of humour”. I had laughed at one of his jokes, out of politeness, as women tend to do.

It was almost as if this doctor who used my laughter as a measure of my being depressed, was falling for one of the stereotypes that prevents many from getting help: that to be depressed you must need to be unwilling to move from your bed, constantly on the verge of self harm, never offering a smile and generally being unwilling to interact with others in any kind of jovial fashion. But depression shows up for different people in different ways. It can be insidious and invisible.

These experiences bother me because it’s already so difficult to share that you’re struggling and because it shouldn’t have been so hard to get help. Those doctors should’ve taken me seriously, regardless of my age. Insisting I was wrong about my own mental health was damaging in ways that I don’t have the words to express (those familiar with my verbosity will find this shocking indeed). It was such a simple ask, and the cost of their unwillingness to believe me could’ve been my life.

I remember both conversations vividly because it made me feel helpless and hurt and I gave up seeking professional help for some time after as a result.

I know that this sounds like a story that may lend itself to discouraging others from getting their own help, but I use it to remind myself and friends that doctors and psychologists are not perfect - unfortunately it can take time to get the right help but it’s still the best and most important thing you can do if you are struggling with your mental health. That it doesn’t always work the first time, I feel, is an overlooked message that’s absence can lead to people feeling discouraged from trying to get help again. I’ve seen it in myself and in numerous friends. 

Once I’d worked up the courage to try and get help again, I would tell myself that I was going to a psychologist for “personal development”, because it helped me escape the stigma of getting help. I was afraid of being “crazy” and felt so guilty for being depressed when I felt I had no right to be. “Who am I to need a psychologist? What about people with REAL problems?” I would think (and this guilt and deep shame is part of what makes it so hard to come forward). But it’s been a blessing - I’ve learnt so much about myself and I genuinely think that everyone should jump on the therapy train for some expedited self development. 

So if you’re on the fence about getting help, please give it a go. Ten years on, it has changed my life for the better in countless ways. 

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PS: you might be thinking “why didn’t her parents help her get help?”. They didn’t know. I struggled to tell them how bad I really felt. Many suffer quietly, assuming it’ll protect those around them or because of the pain of stigma. I know now that we can only move forward once we speak up.