We live in a funny world, it is hilarious at times, humorous at others. Sometimes it makes me want to cry, sometimes it infuriates me. I live among a billion people, 1.2 billion, that is what the population of my country as of 6 years ago. My province houses about 28 million people and my city about 300,000. How many opinions does it take to form an opinion of yourself? How many people need to tell you what to do before you decide what to do, before you realize that all the advice you have been getting has been useless.
One day, I decided to share my problems with 8 billion people on the internet, I made my post public, I wanted anyone who could have seen it to see it and offer any help they may have for me. I was desperate and broken. I had lost parts of memory. I didn’t remember the places I had been to, I didn’t remember who I had talked to, what I had been doing, I even forgot few of my family members. When you read this, you don’t understand what it really is like, what it is like to see someone and not be able to recognize them, it is like you know the answer to a question but you can’t figure it out, like someone asking you what 2+2 is and you cannot tell them it is 4, you are incapable of doing that in that moment, and it breaks you down when you go through that. People will laugh it off, try to ridicule it, try to play it down, but it did happen, and it happened to me not to anyone else I know. The pain I have been going through, I have not been able to put it in words, it is a failure on my part but it is something I realize now, I won’t be good enough to describe this, no matter how much I do, I won’t, the pain is just too much.
So for a moment let us forget about the past and focus on what happened after the day I decided to share my problems with the public. I had tons of messages, mostly telling me I am brave enough to conquer my problems and get over them, some telling me to get over it, and a few telling me that my problems are not real and I should not consider them strong enough to hamper my career. I believe that it is not the first response to anything that should be taken as the real thing, it is always the follow up, the follow up is what the people really mean. It uncovers the truth from the people’s fake niceness on the first go, it is what we do after all isn’t it? We are always nice and cheerful when we first meet someone, but the second time is when we show them how important they really are to us.
SO let us start with the adults I have come across in this time, people who have had the better part of their lives past themselves, the people who are supposed to know better than us, the people who are supposed to understand life as we know it a little better than us kids do. The best idea they seemed to able to come up with was- WALK IT OFF SON, EAT SOME CLOVES OF GARLIC, MEDITATE, DO YOGA, DO NOT TAKE THE MEDICINE DOCTORS TELL YOU TO, PRAY TO GOD, VISIT TEMPLES and so on. Hardly 2 or 3 people out of the hundreds of adults who learned about my problems asked me about my depression and wanted to talk about it on the follow up too.
Out of probably 150 people, doesn’t really work well for me, this percentage does it? And you know what it is like to hear about this from educated folk? The people who are supposed to be the top, cutting edge of our society? Medical professionals?
It takes your faith out of humanity as a whole, when people older than us have figured nothing out, what chance do we have?
Next we come to the young adults, who have just started their college life or just ended it, people who are going through the various stages of life in a hurry. The most popular idea among them seemed to be- LEAVE THIS CITY, CHANGE WHERE YOU LIVE, TRAVEL ACROSS THE WORLD, JUST CHANGE SOMETHING.
YOU THINK I HAVE NOT CONSIDERED OR DONE THAT ALREADY?
Here we had not one person who had been kind and offered help to me on the first go, follow up with an equally supportive message.
And lastly we come down to my friends, people I had shared my personal stuff with, gotten personally attached to, cared about, and the best thing is that these people didn’t even send me a message after my post about my depression so there was no chance of them messing it up on the follow through.
All I heard from them was silence
Their silence speaks a lot to me.
No message of support, no kind wishes, nothing to even tell me they were there or they acknowledged my depression.
These are the people I have surrounded myself by, among billions of people, these were what I chose or ended up being around. I am alone, well and truly. People don’t like to follow up to find out that there has been no progress, they don’t like to found out that nothing has changed, it makes them uncomfortable, makes them almost responsible or awkward to talk about it. So they just ignore it until it is no longer their problem. I understand now that it is just human nature, no one is different, no one is neutral.
This makes me powerless about what is going on and it is this feeling of powerlessness, this rage, the fever, that turns good men…