Article #3: Why is mental health so misunderstood?

5.9.17 | 6.9.17

Mental health is an interesting topic. I find that its so hard for the person going through their own mental health journey to talk about their mental health. If I’m being honest, it’s partly society, kin and few other factors. I want to personally tell you what happens when someone you deeply care about doesn’t understand your mental health, and how I reacted to connotations along the lines of ungrateful.

Before I get into the article I would like to properly introduce myself, as always.
My name is Fatma, I am a 22 year old woc who has had clinical depression for 2 years or so now, and like most with mental health I took my time denying it as I researched what being depressed meant in every way shape and/or form. This means what it looked and felt like, but honestly mostly anything that would explain how I was feeling internally at such a mass intensity. I sat with the intensity for years before getting professional help. I am also an INFJ-P, daughter, friend, sister, self-care, mental health creative writer and possibly other sub headings that I can’t think of at the moment.

A couple of days or a week ago I told a friend of 8+ years about getting an interview for David Jones that I had applied for months ago. I told her that I won’t be going to the interview because we both know what happened when I worked in the sales industry not so long ago prier to this email, and it has now become a trigger I told her. I was expecting for her as my friend to see where I’m trying to come from with my situation.

To my confusion she was so shocked, and said that I’m acting along the lines of ungrateful and I looked her dead in the eyes and said

“what’s the point of me going to an interview that triggers me mentally. I don’t think its about being ungrateful. I’m trying to take care of my mental health and myself.”

And immediately she said “..I mean it’s up to you.” like I had a choice. I’m not trying to talk ill of her nor the situation, but after this conversation I started really thinking about what it is about depression that is so hard to understand. Also because I don’t talk about it with anyone other than my psych,  I’ve learnt to not expect others to understand depression. So to be fair I don’t blame her.

I didn’t know this then, but when she said that my mind almost tucked away what she had said and it was like what she had said was still being properly processed in my mind so that I could think about it clearly in my own time. In the moment although I was immediately internally irritated for a split second but not angry, because lord knows being an INFJ-P type it takes me time to react properly to situations most every time. I wanted to properly understand why she would say something like that to me knowing very well my situation and that she is a very close friend of mine. So before I could even react emotionally my body and my mind were unconsciously protecting me from my emotions knowing very well this was not usually how I would react.

From that day on I had started to get really depressed and each day it just got worse. I was frustratingly trying to unpack why on my own for an exhausting month. Then with my psychologist, we unpacked how I was feeling piecing together what was going on inside my head to figure out the trigger was mentioned by a friend, and my mental health was still reacting to the words said. In that moment, I was so shocked I couldn’t help but break down and everything I held back just overflowed out of me.

Even though I said I was done crying from others words, understanding that this is not what they really mean because to others, they don’t know how mental health functions in the body so for them its usually not that they really mean it, but rather they don’t understand its intensity and manifestation of their choice of words while talking to someone who is ageing through mental health.

What I would really want to challenge is why is it that we aren’t actively talking about mental health.

What are we so scared of?

We as a race don’t understand how it completely works, and for the person who is going through this internal battle all they do is everything they can to help themselves.

I strongly believe talking about mental health is so important. It may be uncomfortable for some however, this is only because as a society we get to decide what is of importance and mental health is without a doubt one of those justices.

Think about it like this. When we are in pain what’s the first thing as human beings we do as the kin, we listen, want to comfort and we want to help. So, why is it that when someone is going through mental health the same thing isn’t practiced? We all want to do what we can to make the people we love and care about around us feel accepted and trusted, mental health is no different.

 

Thank You.
Fatma Hussein

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Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

8.6.17 | 9.6.17. Dreaming Fable (you’re..)

I mime fables that have been seen of this salem, silent in the dark, that sit with the night sky and watch the stars fill its vacancy, a distilled memoir, that glimmers awakened dreams, it has never been about forgetting how to love, but it has always wished on the stars enough to make it real, to never forget that this kind of magic is crafted into all our bodies and we are left to spell it back once it has finished manifesting into our souls long enough to breathe its wild back to love, a spell bound feeling, that is the mirrored shooting star reality of our distilled dreams

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

24.4.17
Naked truth (dysfunction, never perfect) (self, heart beats, feeling too much + intensity..)

“..listen to its beats, steady of this mind, how it will turn your thought into interluded narration, your mind is a trapped organ, your finger tips are the only truth in this bodies narration, give it life, so much confused chaos, echoing too loud, can not exist at the same time, each heart beat will get over analyzed to a depth of imagination, the mind is a sick organ trapped in this body, you’ll feel its moods interchange its feeling until, it stops feeling like its painful to breathe, you’ll pick apart your confidence with this bodies words, unsure about which chaotic is connected to its infusion, don’t understand its conclusion, do you see, self, truth, the truth is that self is hard to manage, will always want to write as a form of plea, every poem written is encrypted with wreck, n self, its connected to feeling too much at this intensity, its always trying to mean control, can’t quite catch its pondering, call it for what this organ is feeling, this intensity must mean today is not okay, that when you’re mute to your own silence what is left, that your finger tips will shape shift into mouth, this raw inconsistency is difficult to conclude, to sit with, to breath next to, it comes when most unnecessary, will have you swallowing air before you’re ready to leave your space, before you can close the window n allow all the cool air in, wait..”

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Give me time, I will carefully give concluded mental diagnosis of not only myself but try n give the ways in which this mind operates, I’ll show you how quickly you can, turn noose into faucet that is, designed in your own identity, break free of these connecting feelings n watch how quickly your mind has chosen to befriend its own shadow, the stigma behind this healing is that its always going to show you its teeth, it feels like there is no escape when your mind is in constant battle with reality, its never easy to ease its reality back to sane, its not okay that we push aside moods in order to get on with reality, sometimes these good deeds do not go unpunished, this healing resonates the feeling of demise quicker that it can manifest healing, on most days it feels like mute, like don’t tell anyone, like don’t speak, like, you’re not worthy, like, worthy had anything it owed you anyway, given this state, given this healing, these words don’t understand their caution, its unwittingly exhausting listening to this mind as your body sits in silence, don’t move.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Mood: “…prompt, probe at this like it was an infectious demise, unsure unsteady, hearts beats, his heart beat matched to your mood, his super power, not easily seen very, confused, mislead, calculated I want, their heart beat, can only give what is in my bodies gauge, I am not allowed to give more than this body has demanded, mood, love lies, sometimes, at ease, health fix, health, mental, mentality, heart beats, he doesn’t know how capable of you yet, willing to give your heart beat to show how much you care, his words are sweet perfection in this body, playful remedy to this mind, I want him.”

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Lost and found, a lot of this mind’s confusion infectious dwell n this is not who I am, since when did you wake to believe what you have for yourself, understand that you can win, don’t like to get caught up in its noose, you can’t escape so easily anymore, we can’t go chasing people n expect them to fill this constant void, a missing identity, its been a while its been, months, reminded me about all the low turns that they, are better, survival is what life feels like n jagged edges accompany inevitably, wondering why I expect other’s who fill my love n, overflow this body with love that, they are all reason for this body, that without their existence self love is non existent, why do I greed their compassion to rescue me so much it, makes me question what self love means, n I’m I able to, attain its demeanor, precluded my own misconception of self loves bound only to rely solely on their body, their affection, to teach me, n not my own.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

17.04.17

Innocence: “..not weak, submissive shy, kind n gentle, all this, n much more, I miss the days where I could hear carefree whispered into the winter breeze, when spring bloomed with hope, sharing all our secrets to mother earth n, choosing to indulge ourselves in her beauty, I missed this, I missed being able to not give so much thought to dreams, enough to give it pardon free it’s possibilities n, not be scared of its what if’s wanted to be, the one who proves that dreams are worth never letting go that, when you feel defeated by it’s impossible alure this is, why its important to illustrate why you dream in the first place, being a dreamer n having a dream are two different innocences, dreamers are forever mesmerized by reason, for reaching the sky n, asking why the stars they see shine so bright, it’s finding answers when you have been told impossible, dream is, as simple as what you want it to be, I miss the days we talked about how fast we could glimce innocence in truth, rather bind to its opposite trait, not enough innocence, there’s, too much malice that fumbles without our own optimism, it blinding, catch this meditation, n…”

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

16.04.17 | 17.04.17

Struggling with reality: “..being forced to come to terms with being grown has a lot of constraints to its noose, they aren’t always the black jacks that fill your conciouness with clarity, with truth, being forced to realise that even though you yourself as a being have to choose some demise in order to grow, in order to change, back home, you’re selflove, you can only realise what reality you have as you watch it disappear before you desperately reach out your hands fast enough to catch its pace n allow it, watch it shatter into micro shooting stars, the way commanding wish to a content struggling reality, is it a combination of your worst fears, emotions, rainbows to fill in this mood, this grow, how do you grow without struggling in reality, pain manefests n changes people more than we would like to admit, it resonates penetrating so deep into our stream of consciousness until it awakes, until we’re comfortable with change, until…”

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

17/4/16 – 18/4/16
A letter to my younger self
I don’t even know where to start, which wound to apologize for, will never forgot the tears that up to this day will never stop, if there was one thing I had to apologize for first, it would be for up to this day about the way you feel about yourself, that even when you were younger told nobody about your scars, that I was always there with you, for you, I told you I would never leave you, even that day when you fought with her again n you went downstairs feeling so much, you couldn’t tell which emotion came first, you took the biggest table knife you could find in the kitchen drawer, put your arm out, made sure your eyes were ready, took the knife helping it find its way over your bare skin, you were only 12, this is what you wanted her to understand, even though it didn’t make sense to anybody but yourself, you tried to make her look as you cried for all you insecurities, your broken body, the pain, the emotion that you didn’t understand, you tried to make her feel what you felt but she didn’t understand even when that knife scrapped your bare skin several times, she never looked back, she never tried to look back, it was at that moment you felt that she didn’t care, that it wouldn’t matter, that you wouldn’t care if your blood found its way to the floor, a puddle of emotion, when I think about how when you were little you tried to make sense of so many things, but nothing was working, nothing felt the way it suppose to, there so many things to apologize for n I’m sorry about them, I’m sorry that even up to this day you still cry every single night, I’m sorry that even though you smile its not enough to fix the emotional anxiety, anxiety, something you can’t stop doing, I’m sorry that there’s nothing to really be appreciative of, all I can say is that at least now, I’m getting help, I’m trying so hard to be better for you, I made a promise to myself to be happy, to try n be positive, its all so hard even now, but I’m thankful I’m here today, I just want to make us happy, make these feelings stop, I want us to move forward, to be happy, so I’m getting help for the both of us

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

9/4/16 – 10/4/16
Its not always what it seems

Once again I’m feeling too much, caring too much, hurting too, been hurting way too much, miscounting all the excuses, not excuses, feelings, miscounting the amount of time I’ve been feeling, something like complicated, like my body is tired, like my mouth doesn’t have anymore left to say, like my mind is thinking too much, overthinking too much, I can’t just do anything anymore without thinking, overthinking, I think its starting to be become a problem, we all have something that we do too much, that it starts to become something we can’t stop noticing, realize, its all just too much, lately, I’ve been doing things I don’t usual do, then regret them even more than the first time, just to see if they were really the wrong thing, but lately it’s been happening too often, I don’t want to do anything that will harm this soul, that will cause it be be this hard, this closed, this silenced, I want to change, I’m starting to think that I should probably get these feelings figured out, I want someone to talk to, someone I can tell these things without feeling like a part of me is saying, what do you think your doing, showing all your insecurities, baring so much to someone, anyone, don’t do this, you’ll regret telling them, even though you can trust them you don’t trust yourself, but I just want someone to listen, someone to tell me its all going to be okay, that this will get better, that there is nothing wrong with the way your thinking, you’ll be okay, I don’t want anyone to tell me how I should feel, how they think it should feel, how they feel, I just want someone to listen, I want them to make a note of it so they can come up with the answers, because I’ve been trying to solve this all on my own, and I can’t help but feel broken, the internal cracks they’ve left are too much to handle, too much to comprehend, its all just too much, I need someone to help me understand this all, I just want someone to talk to, someone who truly understands, acknowledge, that its hard, that I’m trying my best, that I’m worth all the effort, that I can love myself, and be loved back, that love can be reciprocate, that love is something beautiful, that it doesn’t always tare you down, building walls, bridges, barriers, but will make you better, will be emotionally worth the pain, that just because there’s pain I shouldn’t give up, I feel better now, I’m the only one left that I can talk to, I’m trying to fix the me that I think is broken so much, but its been so long, the tools god has given me are failing at my bare hands, I don’t know what to do anymore, I’ve had enough, of feeling like I don’t want to live like this anymore, I’m scared of telling the doctor, because I don’t want them to think that I’m making this up, that its all in my head, that its nothing, but when your feeling this way, nothing makes any sense, so you’ll tell the doctor the truth, that this is your truth, that your not lying, that every time you feel like this nothing else matters, its as though the earth has broken in two, and your the only one left to deal with the wreckage, this is what if feels like, this is your reality, you’ll tell the doctor that you don’t want to be broken anymore, that you want to be fixed, you’ll look at them with your hands in soft fists, take a short breath and say, I’ve got no where else to go, no one left to turn to, you want to get better, so you’ll bite your lip, close you eyes and repeat, please fix me, I want to get better for myself, and open your eyes