Aisha sat quietly on the porch without any movement.
Desperately trying to contemplate her confusions and thoughts.
He was more of a best friend to her than a husband. But now that friend had turned into a monster whom she never knew. A monster who hurt her in every single way and made her feel like dirt.
Her everyday life of getting tortured by her husband had made her annoying and unpleasant. She was nicknamed ‘crank’ by almost everyone she met.
She had tried telling her father, every time she met, about the situation, hoping for help. All she got in return from her businessman father was “You should learn to respect and obey your husband. We can give you more money if you need anything”
Slowly and steadily she stopped asking for help. Because she knew that money or fake consolations could not help her. She was fighting a battle of pain and heartache. Death and suicide. Her father hurt her in a mental way. He would smile at her, but she could notice the fakeness in it. Only if her father would sit and just listen to her and not just call her Cranky Aisha. Talk to her. Hold her.
Eventually she started falling in an endless pit of depression. Aisha wasn’t cranky but was depressed. She had learnt to put on a mask of happiness because showing her true broken self hadn’t got her really any help. Her mask was so perfect that no one had cared to look past her mask. She tried to act joyfully but she had her moments of darkness as well, only thing that they were well hidden now. On the inside she felt like she was gasping for air, screaming for help with no noise coming out of her mouth.
Now this story above was a work of fiction 😉
Depression– this 10 letter word is not. It’s real. As real as the diseases like AIDS, Paralysis etc. It’s more common than you think. There are hundreds of Aisha’s around us. The only thing is we fail to help them.
Very often we underestimate the power of a simple touch, a small talk, a listening ear or the smallest act of caring. Just because someone seems to be happy outwards doesn’t mean he/she is really in her best spirits. Maybe they have been forced to put on a mask just like Aisha because being real with people didn’t get them any help, because no one was ready to just sit and help them out. Depression is flat, hollow and tiresome.
“Depression isn’t always at 3 am, sometimes it hits you at 3 pm when you are with your friends, halfway through a laugh and you just stop. Sometimes it’s screaming and crying and smashing plates, sometimes it’s numbness and quiet and sometimes it’s getting up anyways and staying alive, even if you don’t want.”
A lot of us constantly say, we care but had we cared enough people like Aisha wouldn’t feel the need to put on a mask.
There is no point in treating a depressed person as though she were just feeling sad, saying once in a while to them, “There now, hang on, you’ll get over it”. Sadness is more or less like a head cold, with patience it passes. Depression is like cancer. It grows rapidly and weakens your spirit.
Apprehension of going to a therapist, of seeking professional help is only going to pull us backward. Depression is a reality. It is treatable. Only if we pay our undivided attention to it and feel no shame in seeking professional help, will we be able to come out of it.
Mental health is just as important as your physical health. Your big biceps are of no use if you are in a Crank” target=”_blank” rel=”noopener”>cranky state of mind. Awareness about mental health and removing the taboo of going to a therapist are some prime concerns of today. The earlier we solve these issues, the lesser people we will lose.