Sharing struggles with mental illness

Since breaking my silence three years ago, I have carried my experience with me wherever I go. Today, I want to share it with the Duke community. My name is Alena Sadiq, I suffered from clinical depression and this is my story.

Let’s rewind to about six years ago. I had just finished seventh grade and the Pakistani summer had begun when I started feeling low. This wasn’t a normal ‘low’ feeling. Horrifying images of death and a terrifying fear of losing my loved ones consumed my mind and slowly took over my life. I broke down and cried every single day. I could think of nothing but death and loss. I felt suffocated even in the largest of open spaces. I started washing my hands more than 20 times a day. I rigorously crossed out alphabets that I thought I had written ‘wrong’ in my school notebooks. I even started monitoring where my eyes travelled. I was petrified that if I didn’t perform these ‘rituals,' something would go horribly wrong. Summer ended, school started and things didn’t get any better.

After several months, I confessed to my friends what I was going through. They gave me an incredible amount of support—they were always there when I needed to talk and would come over when I didn’t feel like going to school. Meanwhile, my mother suggested I visit a psychiatrist while my father didn't think I needed to. He thought it was a phase and I would get better on my own. I didn’t. My mom was convinced that I should check with someone, and so we went to see a psychotherapist, Dr. Imranna. I remember sitting in her clinic, sobbing. I couldn’t talk without crying uncontrollably at the same time. I let go of all that was on my mind and opened up to her. Almost instantly, I felt like maybe there was someone who actually understood what I was going through. Right after my first session with her, I felt a lot lighter, as if someone had lifted an immense burden off my shoulders. The sessions continued and soon she referred me to a psychiatrist, who prescribed me medication. In a few months, I was free of all the thoughts that had once horrified me, and my life was back to normal.

Dr. Imranna advised me to adopt some changes in my lifestyle that, in the long run, could substitute for the medication I was taking. Today, my medication is only a maintenance dose. In time, I plan to leave it altogether. I feel as capable and as content as any other individual. My visits to Dr. Imranna have lessened as time has passed, but even today I go to her when I am stressed or just to talk.

Moving away from home can take a toll on you. Two years ago, I went to England for boarding school. Anxieties can resurface because of the change in environment. I had a bit of a blip in my second year but, because Dr. Imranna was only a phone call away, I was back to normal within just a few days. Moving for a second time has been easier for me but I know that for most people this is the first time. My advice would be, don’t be too hard on yourself and make use of the professionals available on campus. Talk to someone if you really don’t feel well.

If you have or had a mental illness, don’t be ashamed. There is nothing ‘wrong’ with you. If you know someone who has or had a mental illness, be patient and support them in seeking help. There is nothing wrong with consulting a professional—it is like going to the doctor when you have a high fever. Not everyone even needs medication—sometimes people just need someone to hear them out, and that someone needs to be a professional. And if someone does need medication, we as a society need to accept it, just like we accept any other medication for any other illness.

When I’m feeling a little down, I often get scared that I may be having a relapse. Almost every time, this fear is baseless. The experience of clinical depression was so terrifying that the fear of ever slipping into it again lingers on in my subconscious. This is just one of the things that has stayed with me over the years. What I’m trying to convey is that it is a traumatic experience. We shouldn’t be making it harder for people by ostracizing them for seeking help and by implicitly blaming some innate weakness of theirs for an illness they just happen to suffer from.

Despite depression being a common problem, people still oppose seeking professional help. If it hadn’t been for social stigma and lack of awareness, I may have sought help earlier and my suffering would have ended much earlier. I hope that my story will help challenge such constraints and the person reading this will waste no time in seeking help if you feel you need it.