Life And Your Place In It

Standing in the hospital ward on my call last night, waiting for the round to begin and thinking of all the things I need to get done I suddenly hear a scream in the last cubicle and the nurses get up to go look. I run too. It’s a mother with her baby who stopped breathing. His little body lying there, emaciated and helpless, is making the occasional gasp, but he is no longer breathing. 

He was HIV positive, having gotten it from his mother at birth and had pneumonia and malnutrition. The Doctors had known beforehand he would most likely not pull through and if something like this happened, he was not for resuscitation. 

We walked with his slowly deteriorating body to the resuscitation room while bagging him for a while and calling the mother in to say her last goodbyes. But she wasn’t crying. She carried on as though it didn’t matter to her. We stood outside with sad faces. I had never seen a baby die right in front of me. 

I thought about his short life ending, I thought about a little girl in another cubicle with xeroderma pigmentosum – severe skin lesions covering her entire body and face leaving her disfigured and weak for the remainder of her life and likely to develop cancer from them. I thought about the abandoned premature babies in another ward. Then I wondered… Why??? Would that little girl who never spoke and had her skin destroyed ever feel like she belonged somewhere and meant something. Both her parents were deceased. No one was there to hold her or build her up or take care of her broken heart. Would those abandoned babies ever feel like they had a place in this world? Would that mother who was HIV positive and didn’t take enough precautions to prevent this ever value life enough? How did life become so neglected. How did we stop realising how fragile life is?

I walked back to the student’s lounge to sit for a while and on my way watched other younger students with their mint green scrubs, pink stethoscopes and bleached hair walk past and how preoccupied they were with the way they looked and appeared to the world and it all suddenly seemed so ridiculous. All this obsession and hype about futile things. “Build a booty, go vegan, gym and trim, have the nice clothes, spend money on crap you don’t need with money you don’t have and cry about and worry about self-image and take a billion selfies to make yourself feel better.” I read these articles flooding Facebook about women being admired for no longer shaving their legs and being overweight and promoting it as if they suddenly made a change in the world. I read about a woman suffering from anxiety, posting a billion selfies with make-up galore, hair done, pouting and her hand always posed in this same position next to her face and then sharing one photo of her tear-streaked face after an anxiety attack to make people see what anxiety really looks like, yet she’d never stop posting her beautiful selfies and I wonder, why are we so insecure about the stupidest of things?

Yeah, I guess I am playing the “there are less priviledged people than you” card.  But I am playing it because people get so bogged up in their own little new-age worldly problems and blast it out of the box. People become oblivious to real pain. You are beautiful and you are so damn lucky. You need to stop trying to convince the world of it. You probably have a beautiful heart but ask yourself what you’re dedicating your heart and life too. You feel insecure and like you fit in nowhere and mean nothing to the world and the only way you’d mean something is if you stepped up to mediocre world views of what you ought to look like and care about; the trivial and superficial stuff. 

Have you ever looked out the window of an airplane after takeoff? Watched people become matchstick size, then grain-of-rice-size, then suddenly disappear altogether in their thumbnail cars on the highway?

You watch, nose pressed to the Plexiglas, your breath leaving a fog on the pane. You watch, imagining the hundreds, the thousands, the millions of bodies moving around their homes, driving on busy streets, cooking breakfast on their stoves, running with their dogs through the park.

And you wonder where you fit.

You think about all the people you haven’t met, and maybe never will. You think about the emotions, the unspoken words, the connections you might not get the chance to make. You think of all the cars and planes and trains and busses and sidewalks and highways, one flurry of constant motion. Never still. And suddenly you feel so damn small. Suddenly, the world seems terrifying and your existence is a dot on the map. Do you even have a purpose? Would it matter if you disappeared, faded away, left this earth altogether? Would anyone know you were gone? Does anyone see or hear or feel your pain right now?

And like clockwork, you’re in your own head, filling it to the brim with negative thoughts. It’s as if you’ve realized, for the first time, that life doesn’t stop just because you’ve lost someone you love, because your heart is broken, because you’re lonely or tired or afraid or sad. But you convince yourself the world doesn’t stop because you don’t matter. And that’s so far from the truth.

The truth is, the world doesn’t pause. It doesn’t stop. It doesn’t drastically change because you’re hurting. But that doesn’t mean who you are or what you’re experiencing doesn’t matter.

The truth is, your emotions are just teardrops in a giant freaking ocean. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t making a ripple if you choose too. That doesn’t mean you can’t touch other people, connect, make that ripple become a wave. That doesn’t mean your pain is any less valid than the people around you, or that your teardrops don’t carry their own volume and weight. That doesn’t mean your heartache is not as real, or that you need to lessen yourself to let others express their burdens.

Your agony, your guilt, your frustration, your failure, your pain—those are real and valid and matter. You are real and valid and matter. Don’t let the world and your insecurity tell you otherwise.

Yes, you are tiny, but even the tiniest of pieces are significant. Even the tiniest pieces can make an impact, can have a voice, can create change, can affect the people and things around them and cause others to stand up.

Even the tiniest can make the whole.

Maybe what you’re experiencing right now feels devastating. Maybe your whole world is crashing in, and it seems like no one is listening. You have to understand, first, that the world owes you nothing and won’t always give you the love and support you need, but that doesn’t mean what you’re feeling is unimportant.

Your pain might not be the end of the world, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel like the end of your world. And that doesn’t mean people don’t care. That doesn’t mean your existence is meaningless. 

If you think about the airplane, watching people and houses and cars and roads all fading from your window, it’s sort of a metaphor for life. When we’re so zoomed out, it seems like all of us blur together. It seems like all of our experiences are pointless and impermanent, shuffling through until one day it all ceases. But when you focus in, you see that each person is crucial—the mother, the daughter, the brother, the cousin, the school teacher, the doctor, the businessman, the mailperson, the secretary, the sick, the weak, the lonely, the poor… When you focus in, you see how each person directly effects those around him or her, how each of us has a purpose, a role, a duty, an importance. When you focus in, you see that we are actually so big, so capable, so able to make a change in the lives we touch. And when our little voices speak, they blend with others, creating a glorious, unified sound.

But that all started with one.

So when the world and your tired mind tries to tell you you’re too tiny, when life tries to shuffle away your pain, when people try to diminish your feelings, when you look at the earth from an airplane and just feel so damn small—remember that you matter. To people around you. To the causes you believe in and the things you stand for. To the changes you have, and will continue to make if you choose to make them. To the world, in little, yet significant ways. You may be small, but small does not equal weak. Small does not equal unimportant. Small does not equal purposeless. 

So step forward, open your mouth, raise your voice, speak your truth, feel your emotions. Let go of all the futility and superficiality. Whatever you’re going through won’t last forever, and you won’t have to go through it alone. You matter. You are heard. You are loved. So love others, make others feel heard, make others feel worthy and less alone.



30 Day Chronic Illness Challenge Day 15 & 16

How would things be different if you weren’t ill?

I’ve thought and still think about this often. What type of person would I be if none of this ever happened? I think one should be realistic and not blame all your life problems on your mental illness. Face it, life wouldn’t be all moonlight and roses and pain wouldn’t be absent. But what I think would be different is that I would’ve missed out on way less of life. Depression has stolen that from me for years. You lose the ability to care about life and relationships and all you’re doing is existing, not living. So perhaps, I would’ve been more involved and created new friendships, went on more adventures and in general had the sense of enjoyment for life that everyone always described. Also, I would’ve finished university along with the people in my first year because I wouldn’t have had to keep taking time out to be admitted and perhaps get ahead in life sooner. If I just think about all of how depression makes one think and feel, not having that would save one from such an immense amount of suffering and pain. I think a lot of that pain and suffering has made me who I am today and as much as I’ve tried and still try to turn it into something good, I’d give it all up in a second if it meant I wouldn’t wake up every day and have death cross my mind or have to constantly feel like I’m running an uphill battle to keep myself away from another relapse. If I didn’t have depression, my ex boyfriends might not have left and I wouldn’t always have had to have this thing of explaining to people what’s wrong with me and hope they get it and fear another rejection. So perhaps I wouldn’t have been so isolated. As a person, I believe I would’ve had more confidence in myself and been more outgoing and motivated. Also energy and health. I think I would’ve had more stamina in general. Healthwise, I would’ve been saved from so many hassles and feeling like utter crap for so many days. No medication would of course have saved me a lot of money. Then there’s also the scars on my arms that I feel is basically like a megaphone to the world around me of the fact that I have a mental health problem and having to face that judgement, especially if you’re going to be a Doctor, will always make you feel insecure. But the thing that always gets me most, that I want back the most, is my cognition. I would love to be able to remember things so easily and have a brilliant intellect again. I miss being that person who so easily excelled. Realising you have become a fragment of your former self is hard to live with. It’s like depression and anxiety has turned me into vulnerability. I will always be more vulnerable than the average person and it kind of feels like I’ve turned into glass and I have to be so incredibly careful with myself. 

Do you think you’ve become a better person through being ill?

No. As much as I’d love to sound brave and like a conqueror and warrior that makes me a badass, or a sudden world changer, unfortunately I don’t believe living with depression has made me a better person. I think without depression and anxiety, I would’ve still wanted to live for something beyond my own needs and make positive change. I would’ve still done what should be done, said what should be said and been sensitive and cared more than I should. That’s because those things are a part of me and weren’t created as a result of mental illness. We all have our inherent personalities that have nothing to do with mental illness and being an empath has been a part of my personality and identity my whole life. The times when I am sick, I am not a particularly wonderful person, I’m just a ghost that has blended into nothingness and even now, I carry around a lot of that with me because that pain has so profoundly impacted me. I think my mental illness has given me the beauty of connecting with other people in pain and who get it and I am so inspired by each of them and love talking with them. That is one thing I wouldn’t want to take back. You see incredible strength and beauty in people who suffer immensely just as you do. Mental health has also become something I would always strongly advocate for and raise my voice for. I would always share my story if it meant awareness and was of any consolation to any other sufferer. I would fight tooth and nail for this cause and I feel it is my duty too. So part of it has made me a stronger person to fight judgement and raise my voice because it deserves to be heard. Whatever it takes, I will never stop fighting and being brave has perhaps become amplified within me because living with a mental illness, you realise no one is going to fight for you but yourself and if you are going to do that it requires creating one very strong voice within you and an immense amount of fearlessness has to be cultivated. So I guess what I’m saying is, I am an empath and have always been one. I’ve always had a strong personality and never been hesitant to fight for a cause I strongly believed in and I’ve always had a sense of fearlessness. Living with depression and anxiety hasn’t given me that, it has only amplified and perhaps cultivated it more. And so, mental illness didn’t make me a better person because I was never in anyway made by it.

Sidenote:

*** Join the mental health awareness challenge 10th to 15th July ***

****THIS STARTS SOON. PLEASE READ BELOW BEFORE COMMENTING – ALL MENTAL HEALTH AND MENTAL ILLNESSES ARE INCLUDED****

The Heart Project: On July 10th – 15th we will draw/Photoshop/paint/stick hearts on our wrists/arm/ankles. One heart or many, draw the ones that apply to you. The colour of the heart represents the official awareness ribbon colour, to find out the colour of your illness, please click on this link: https://www.disabled-world.com/disability/awareness/ribbons.php

If your mental illness or mental health related condition/disability is not listed in the examples on the poster, don’t worry, it’s still included but there wasn’t enough space on the poster. Please click on the link above to find out the colour.

This is to spread and raise mental health awareness, to not hide behind the shame, stigma, and to let others know they are not alone. Take a picture of your heart(s), share it on here, in the event page and/or on your profile; get friends and family to join in. Hash tag it #TheHeartProject If you would like to join in but anonymously, send us a message by clicking on the message tab just under our banner, and send your picture. We will post it on your behalf, anonymously.

If you would like to join our event, please click on this link: https://www.facebook.com/events/1076053215829244/

Thank you ❤

~ Mental Health and Invisible Illness Resources  ❤

https://www.facebook.com/MentalHealthandInvisibleIllnessResources/