PART I
I know many have written about it and many have openly discussed it, but it still remains a taboo in our society. People judge you, shun you, disregard you and even look at you with an eye of suspicion the moment they get to know that you are a patient of depression. DEPRESSION. There I said it, finally. They say depression is a disease of the mind, I would like to put it as an unnecessary battling with self. With much reluctance and hesitation, today I decide to get over with unnecessary guilt and am ready to share my journey into and out of depression. Though I can relate to and feel deeply for every patient of depression, but I also know that it is an individual fight, nobody can help if one is not able to help self.
Depression or darkness befriended me in a most wicked manner. It steadily and stealthily started wrecking havoc on my mood. And I still didn't suspect anything. From being a frequent visitor to gradually turning into my constant companion, it eventually had me in its grips absolutely. My life changed for the worst. It slowly started sucking out all the joy, enthusiasm, positivity, contentment, and confidence replacing it with utter hopelessness and sheer despondence. I recoiled into my shell and slammed the door with a bang on the rest of the world. I was absolutely clueless of the machinations of depression. Depression was poisoning my mind. My mind completely lost the ability to see any good in anything and started seeking great pleasures in sorrow, grief, unhappiness and sadness. It seemed as if I was carrying a huge boulder, the weight of which made me sink deeper and deeper into an abyss. I was in a state of perpetual lethargy and devoid of any spirits. I felt deprived and disadvantaged. I have no idea what was I mourning about. The only thing I had in plenty were my tears. Unbidden tears. Without any rhyme or reason they would flood my eyes, my life. I was nurturing an anger inside me, an anger that was self directed. I was miserable and my family was subjected to passive depression because of me. This continued for a while, my family was convinced that this was a temporary phase and they kept wishing it would get over of its own accord. I lost my friends, resigned from my job....I lost LIFE. I had become an absolute slave to my mind that fed me with negative thoughts only.
It was very difficult for my family to accept that I needed help for something they dismissed as a temporary phase, which was actually chronic depression. They even went to the extent of blaming themselves for my plight.
My first psychiatrist hardly talked to me, but observed everything about me, from the way I walked, talked and conducted myself. I still remember he had written in bold that I refused to make eye contact. Was it a sign of depression? The medicines he prescribed induced a dreamless sleep. At least I was at peace while sleeping. All I did was to eat and sleep. It was heartbreaking for my family to see my life withering away. Someone suggested that I see a leading psychiatrist in Delhi. I would love to mention my tryst with him. He charged a bomb in the name of consultation fee, gave appointment after a week, made us wait for three hours, finally sending a junior doctor who conducted a harrowing and extensive interview session for close to two hours before I was led to the actual doctor I had sought appointment with. The first thing he asked me,"What can I do for you?" I lost all faith in him there and then only. I still wonder why. Anyway, he prescribed a series of psychoanalytical tests that according to him were the pre requisite for starting my treatment. I could take these three day long gruelling tests or trade the money for buying two high end Satya Paul Sarees. That day I learnt a lot about five star commercial doctors.
To be Continued.....
