Yesterday

I was 23 and financially and emotionally independent. I was working towards fulfilling my dream career; a PhD student at a ‘top-tier’ institute. On paper my life was perfect, and yet, I felt like I did not deserve to be happy or enjoy simple pleasures like hot showers, delicious meals, meeting friends etc. I did not stop myself from doing these, but I constantly felt guilty about it. I went on with life ordinarily and lived with my feelings of worthlessness for a few more years. 

Throughout this time, I was unaware that I was neglecting my health and general wellbeing. I was living in an unhealthy environment, and my lack of awareness only made it worse. I was rarely social, did not prioritise my physical health, worked for 12-14 hours a day, shelved my interest in art and did not take breaks when I needed them. The competitive academic environment made me feel like I should not do all these other things. ‘Everyone has issues with their professors. It is a given in all PhDs’ lives. Some students do get lucky.’ 

Help!

The volcano erupted when my only thesis project reached a dead-end. I could not separate my self-worth from a hypothesis that was not working. By now, it was not just my confidence that had taken a blow. My body was weak and exhausted from fighting recurrent infections.

I told myself that academia is not for me and that I wasn’t fit to be a scientist. For days, I shut myself in and could not get out of bed even though I was always wide awake. I went to the institute hospital to meet a doctor and explained my symptoms- lack of appetite, constant exhaustion, lack of focus, recurrent infections, not feeling like myself etc. She prescribed multivitamins and told me I would be fine in a month. 

But I did not last at the institute for a month. I spiralled out of control and was overwhelmed by anxiety. Googling my physical symptoms did not help at all. I felt like I might die for real.

With a Little Help from My Friends

I called a senior student who had just left the PhD programme in her final year to start afresh at a different university. Speaking with her made me feel less alone, less guilty and more aware of my situation. ‘If you did not have the pressure of completing your degree at this institute, would you feel better?’ The answer was a glaring YES, but it took time for me to accept it. When I did, I felt calmer and I could breathe normally again. I reached out to a few friends and was deeply moved by their overwhelming support.

My resignation from the PhD programme and mainly from the toxicity is the most liberating decision I have ever made. I started making art and found solace in it. My parents and sister were very supportive. I soon started working with a not-for-profit organisation that never questioned my departure from my previous workplace. I instantly fell in love with the work and was ecstatic to be among normal people. Normal is so underrated! 

Two years later, the demons returned unannounced. My body and thoughts were experiencing deja vu. It was perplexing because I had nothing to complain about in life. I consulted a therapist and felt transiently better and so I discontinued therapy. Seven months later, I had a frightful panic attack. This time, I could not afford to overlook the problem.

Helter Skelter

I visited a therapist who told me I have severe depression and perhaps some anxiety. I also learned that I show signs of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) because of mental abuse from my days in academia. She advised me to see a psychiatrist and I did.

The psychiatrist heard me out compassionately and explained that I have generalised anxiety disorder (GAD) and major depressive disorder (MDD), a.k.a clinical depression, major depression. I felt relieved to know that my messy soup of emotions and thoughts have names. She suggested that medication along with psychotherapy would be most effective. She patiently answered my list of doubts and concerns regarding the medicines.

Here Comes the Sun

The antidepressant worked on increasing my serotonin levels and helped regulate my emotions, moods and sleep. Therapy was educational. It was eye-opening to realise that unlike physical ailments, which are mostly straightforward, symptoms of mental illnesses are hard to discern both for the sufferer and the perceiver. My therapist gave me tools to identify, understand, accept and work on the symptoms; in that order.

My treatment began as COVID-19 declared war on humanity. The lockdown was a blessing in disguise for me. I moved in with my family and pursued interests that I had previously bypassed. It took a year to get back to normalcy and regain confidence.

Sharwari swears by the holy trifecta of the mental health foundation. I believe I healed because of a fourth pillar; a support group of friends and family who were always there. Not everyone understood what I was going through or the debilitating effects of mental illness but they supported me regardless. Sharwari makes up a massive chunk of this fourth criterion. Healing is not a linear path. There are several ups and downs. She has been there for me through all of the stages- diagnosis, treatment, withdrawal and the lowest episodes. Writing this post has helped me cherish the normal a little more.

–Anonymous

If you are experiencing the symptoms mentioned above, please contact a mental health professional. 

I am not a mental health professional. All blog posts are based on my subjective experiences and opinions.