When You're 'Clueless' About Your Own Depression
If you have watched “Clueless” before, surely you are familiar with the role of Cher, played by Alicia Silverstone. Well, I was a Cher — I was an Alpha female if such thing does exist. In a nutshell, I was socially successful, well-off, blessed with a great life and most importantly, I was happy. The only difference between myself and Cher is I had excellent academia track records. I was an overachiever. Subsequently, I was granted a full scholarship to go to any college or sixth form school I desired, anywhere in the world. Safe to say my life was at its peak… only to go downhill afterwards.
I do not know when “it” started.
I do not know why “it” started.
By “it,” I mean depression.
Possibly after I moved across 12,000 kilometers (about 7,400 miles) away from my home country or maybe after I got my first teenage heartbreak? I do not know, but slowly, the foreign feeling of what I assumed to be laziness wrapped myself to the core. Coupled with the external pressure to keep myself on top of my assignments and exams, I started to have weird thoughts I’d never had before. Sometimes the voice in my head persuaded me not to get up and just stay in bed for the whole day.
It was hard for me to accept the state I was in. Grades slipping. Social life starting to fall. I knew there was something wrong, but I did not know what I was facing. I was clueless. A part of my conscience told me it was a part of the adaptation process and when the right time came, I would soon find the dimmed rays of motivation to shine again. I refused to believe in depression, as I was not “sad.” Holding on that mindset, I worked my way through school— all-nighters, taking in a lot of caffeine. You name it, I have done it all. At times I felt like a robot, doing things more for others than for myself. Yet, I relapsed. I went back to the dormant state of not wanting to live life and feeling demotivated. I’d failed myself.
Multiple factors have affected my decision to seek help: public perceptions, my ability to cope with depression and my current circumstances. Yes, it has been about a year since I skipped my first school day to stay in bed. Yes, it has been about six months since I took two months off school because I was “tired.” However, I decided this must not go on and I have a life too precious to be wasted. I want to be alive.
For those who had a great life before you were struck by this atrocious depression lightning bolt, I am sure you still visualize your previous life and the mind-boggling “where did it go wrong?” is probably still haunting you. My advice to you is to seek help, to let people know you are battling depression. Know that being depressed is not something you should be ashamed of. Please help yourself and embrace your situation with an open mind and always remember you can win this battle.
Dear you who is reading, you got this.
Dear self, sorry for being clueless.
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Photo via Facebook/Clueless