This happens to be my 101st post.
Hence the totally non cliche’d choice of using it in the title itself! 😛
I decided to write about something which has been bothering me for months, hoping to have a heart to heart,
a 101 conversation with you,
my dear reader,
and eventually perhaps
Don’t get me wrong. I am blessed to have a mother like her.
She is the best I could have ever asked for. She has time and again, sacrificed her dreams, for our upkeep. My biggest achievement in life would be the day I can truly make her proud of the person I am.
My mother and I are thick as thieves. Not many 20year olds would be fortunate to say so. But for the past few months ( It has been more than a year really) I have been keeping a big secret from her. My depression.
I have been depressed for almost more than half of my life. It has been so ingrained in my system, such an intrinsic part of my childhood, that my own parents never seemed to notice it, nor did I. However, since I have known about it, I wish to share it with them, like everything else in my life. But I am unable to.
Both my paternal grandparents had depression, my grandfather had acute phases of it. So doctors seem to conclude it is genetic. Also because I was merely a 9 year old during my first suicide attempt, that it fits the diagnosis.
Parents bring their children into this world with such pains and efforts.
No parent wishes to think that their child is broken.
The genetic differential should lessen the pain.
A factory default would still default despite the kind of environment it is put in.
My mother and my father love me immensely. I am scared that they would take it personally, think it was their fault I turned out this way, and try to fix me as soon as possible. I don’t want them to do so.
I just need their support and understanding.
The other issue is that my family has a milieu of doctors, and I detest the prospect of becoming a guinea pig to their experiments.
I tried telling her, thrice. But she started getting hyper and thus I recoiled.l, changed the subject, and moved on. I am amazed at my skills of avoiding a subject and their’s in not noticing a detour.
This time I spent, 5 days just with her in the hills. And everytime I felt the burden of this secret like an invisible iron curtain hanging in between us.
I could feel the weight of it throughout, choking me with every breath.
But I couldnt muster the courage to bring it up.
I am thinking perhaps, I will tell Papa first. He can make her understand. He isn’t emotional, not as much as her. It was his dad who suffered from depression, I am hoping he would be able to re connect the dots somehow.
But they both are busy, and have so much on their plates, both professionally and personally that the thought of overburdening them is killing me. The anxiety of my entrance exam results is a further deterrent.(My performance in the exams is also related to this, and I don’t wish to disappoint them)
A part of me is dying to tell them. Another says that perhaps I should wait a little while longer.
Itni der hui hai, thodi aur hi sahi.
I don’t know what to do. The dilemma is cumbersome.
Till then, I have been sharing spoken word poems, memes, jokes, quoatations, on the theme of Depression.
Hoping they would pick up on the little bread crumbs I am leaving.
So that I don’t have to do the deed, and they understand without a word.
Just like when I was a little child.
Explaining my depression to my Mother
What do you suggest?
To tell or not to tell?