A girl sulking over the sunset.
Photography by Pixabay

21st November 2018 was the day my journey to recovery begun. Never did it ever occur to me that I would find myself in a psychologist’s office for a session. Such things only happened in the movies, a big comfy sofa and a face to face session with a stranger you were supposed to entrust your deepest darkest thoughts with yet there I was too. Dressed in a long maxi dress to my toes, I was welcomed into Dr Raymond’s office, sat down as I placed my palm on my cheek. My non-verbal language oozed sadness. I was optimistic however that a professional could maybe put a finger to whatever made my soul ache. When I started narrating my ordeal, the very friendly and attentive doctor listened as I poured out the matters that shattered my heart into pieces and after a few questions here and there to confirm his diagnosis, he concluded that I was experiencing “mild depression triggered by back to back loss”.

His scientific explanation to my problem was low levels of serotonin in the brain which contributed to my depression. Serotonin is a hormone that is responsible for stabilizing our mood, feelings of well being and happiness. When the levels are low like mine were, he said that “a person is prone to struggling with processing emotions like as loss and grief the way I struggled too and mine started to drop when I lost my mother.” He said he would write down a prescription of a “feel-good drug” and while he was doing so on the prescription paper, I jokingly asked if he was prescribing me weed and we both laughed, him replying no but that the medicine would evoke a similar effect in my brain. I was started on a month of good antidepressants, cautioned to take them every day at the same time and after eating some food. He strongly advised me not to miss swallowing even one tablet; I religiously followed his advice, went to the pharmacy and stocked up on my new feel-good friends.

The first month was the hardest for me because it collided with the Christmas period which was my mother’s favorite time of the year. She would beam with joy when she would come back from work and find the tree up, decorated by yours truly the master decorator. Ever since she passed away in 2017, I never put the tree up, till today. I spent Christmas alone that year, didn’t feel like being around people and fake being grateful because I honestly wasn’t, I had more important issues to deal with like working on my fading mental health. I experienced my first withdrawal on 26th December 2018, woke up to a tradition I used to enjoy with my mother, watch Christmas carols on TV but this time the only difference was me being alone in the house with rooms filled with forever memories of her previous existence. I broke down and sobbed as I listened to those Christmas carols that year but while doing so, a tiny voice at the back of my mind consoled me and said WE would be fine eventually. I trusted that little voice, got up from the floor, and wiped my tears. It is from then that I believe my inner strength was reborn.

One time I asked my spiritual mentor where God was at my lowest point in life, where he was when I prayed to him asking to heal my heart and take the pain away, the endless tears, the yarning to feel his presence, warm embrace and yet there I was, a born again Christian contemplating to commit suicide even after knowing that would land straight in hell? He told me that God was actually there during my dark moments, was hovering over me even when I didn’t feel it, never at one point left my side because my plans to end my life didn’t manifest. God only spoke a language I couldn’t understand at the moment so he chose the means I could understand, seeking mental health through therapy sessions and providing his vessel Dr Raymond to re speak life into me. Over time I have started to understand that Gods strength is made perfect in our weaknesses. The emotional challenges I went through would eventually remould me into a being he had always intended me to be, A STRONG UNWAVERED WOMAN.

A free spirited mental health advocate and raw blogger. I use my personal story to speak for the voiceless dealing with mental health challenges.

Add Your Comment