Life in Grayscale - The Reality of Pain and Sorrow




Here’s the uncomfortable truth. Depression isn’t disappointment. It isn’t just an off day or a difficult evening. It’s so much more. There’s a depth of sorrow that depression brings. It’s immeasurable, complicated, confusing and frustrating. It pervades your every being. It’s more than a silly storm cloud stalking your every move. You drown, more and more every day. The sadness wraps a rough hand around your throat, and then there are no tears, only choked sobs and internal screams.

I wasn’t sure if I should write about this. When you tell people that you have bipolar disorder the instant thought is the mania. The excited, shopping, living "the best day of your life" mania. And I don’t blame them, it’s the advertised feature. But I have bipolar 2. I never get that high. I get productive, creative, energetic, I get hypomanic. I also end up with circling thoughts and dangerous impulses. Because I rarely ever have a hypomanic episode, however, I have a very distanced view of it. It’s still an ‘episode’, an ‘event’, it passes. The depression, however, feels like it runs my life. It envelopes my entire existence.

How do you plan your day when you don’t want to get up, bathe, put on clothes. When you can barely stomach the idea of breathing? It's almost impossible to function. Performing normal tasks, tasks that you do every day, suddenly require an immense effort.
You get stuck, stuck in a rut of pretensive happiness. Because you just don’t have the time to deal with the overwhelming emotions. Sometimes you can’t deal with the worry and concern of others. You can’t answer “Whats wrong?” because everything and nothing is actually wrong. You’re drowning on dry land.

When I’m slipping, I start wallowing. The sorrow then becomes both a burden and a comfort. I turn on “Nothing” by The Script (which I have played during every terrible moment in my life) and I soak it in. I soak in the disappointment, the failure, the hopelessness. I soak in the fatigue, the tiredness that comes with constantly keeping up appearances and surviving medical school with a malfunctioning brain. I retire, and I quit life.

I wish that I could tell you that it’ll all be okay, but the reality is that if you have depression that it often requires struggling to the end before you can see the light again.
At the end, it’s best to just keep breathing till tomorrow. Hold on to whatever you can. Let your fingernails drag you into tomorrow. Whether you or I can see it, regardless of if it gets better, this too ends eventually. You are not alone.
I’m struggling too.

The perks of having a mental illness in medical school

The mental truth, bipolar blogger, mental health, medical school

I know what you're thinking. Are you sure that title is correct? Are there actual pros to having a mental illness? But the truth is that there is a very shiny A in my behavioural science class that testifies to this very statement.
When I first got diagnosed with Depression four years ago, I spent all my time searching for information. I scoured forums and facebook groups and medical pages.

I rebranded! - Welcome to "The Mental Truth"


The mental truth, bipolar blogger, mental health, medical school

If you follow this blog, then you might have noticed that I no longer go by my own name. It is a strategic decision to avoid being ignored if I decide to do my residency internationally. The stigma of mental illness is real, and I am scared. I don’t want to be turned away because of my illness, especially when I’m sure that I could do an excellent job. I thought of coming up with a cooler reason, but I'd much rather tell you all the truth!

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