The Monster Under the bed: Mental illness

In secondary school, we thought mental illness was a disease of white people. When we heard of some person committing suicide abroad, we would say ‘white people are so stupid’, or ‘Nigerians would never want to kill themselves, are they white?” Then we would fall into obnoxious belts of laughter. In my head, white people lived the sweet life. They knew nothing of real poverty! They had excellent health care! They were cuddled! Image a white parent giving their child severe discipline. If a white child gots slapped, he will cry child abuse to the police. White people don’t know struggle. They were weak and lacked a strong mind frame, so they were susceptible to ‘mental illnesses.’

Mind you, this was coming from a sheltered private school student, whose parents provided anything and everything. What did I know of real Nigerian struggle?

I can’t remember the time I realised that ‘oh sh*t, depression is real. Suicide is no joke.’ I may have had an inkling of this when I moved here in 2017, but I didn’t take it serious enough. I remember taking a train to Reading to visit my sister at university. On my way back to London, the train stopped abruptly. A man was attempting to jump in front of a train, so all services were delayed. This man wanted to kill himself, and all I could think was ‘bruh can’t this guy kill himself elsewhere, I need to go home.’ Disgusting right?

I said this as a joke to my friends when I was relaying the story. They looked at me like WTF. Maybe that’s when I realised that maybe this isn’t a joke.

I guess I could have used the ‘Nigerians don’t have mental illnesses’ excuse, but that was void as the news of a teenager in Lagos spread round, he had committed suicide in boarding school. It hit close because, at my boarding school in Kent, my friends knew him. In fact, he was friends with my friends. I sat there as they cried and asked themselves why. ‘why couldn’t they do more? ‘why couldn’t they be better?”

It was like mental illness was following me everywhere.

Someone really close to me was affected by this. I think that was when my eyes really opened. This sh*t is real. It hurts so much when you watch someone you love struggle. When they pull away from you. When these terrible thoughts of ending their lives enter their head. When they purposely harm themselves because the pain is too much. It hurts so much. So, if the fact that my loved one is suffering so much pained me deeply, I couldn’t imagine what they were actually feeling.

Finally, mental illnesses struck again in my life. It hit its target dead in the centre. It found me and saddled me with social anxiety. No wonder my heart would seize when I had to talk to people. No wonder I had those panic attacks. Those moments air would be sucked out of me as I desperately tried to cling to it. I couldn’t even talk on the phone. I couldn’t help but think ‘what if I embarrass myself,’ ‘what if I look like an idiot.’ I couldn’t even ask for help in my first year. The lockdown period made me realise that maybe I have an issue. This can’t be normal. Social anxiety became my right hand. 

Thankfully I wasn’t hit brutally, I found ways to cope and push myself. I dressed up to boost my esteem. I challenged my self to start conversations. However, the sad reality is that not everyone can handle this themselves. Some are hit so hard, it feels like the world is just against them.

This is my lesson for today: Mental illnesses are real, and they are a cancer of the mind. Don’t play with this. Don’t wait till its at your door to be empathetic or to care. Don’t feel invincible to its clutches. Most of all, don’t feel alone with it. It can’t consume you if you don’t let it. Fight and fight aggressively. Take each day as it comes and do things at your own pace. The world’s standards mean nothing in this fight.

Key quotes:
“Just because you don’t understand it doesn’t mean it isn’t so.” 

                                                                                                                                             -Lemony Snicket

I cannot stand the words “Get over it”. All of us are under such pressure to put our problems in the past tense. Slow down. Don’t allow others to hurry your healing. It is a process, one that may take years, occasionally, even a lifetime – and that’s OK.”

                                                                                                                                                 – Beau Taplin