Inside This Mansion
Trigger warning: depression, anxiety and OCD
I guess she was always there, underneath the surface, just lurking around. She finally had the courage to come out when I realized more of myself. I guess that was when I finally let her in. Like a cancer she grew, ravaging my mind. I guess I survived the onslaught else I wouldn’t be here today. We became very close friends over the years, quite an uncharacteristic relationship we had. She had her space in my mind. Carefully marked out. From time to time though she would trespass, it would be a battle for a while, then she would retreat to her cell. She always screamed and banged the metals of her cage, just to let me know that she was there. As though to taunt me, she would let me know of her glaring presence, even as I tried to ignore. She somehow always made herself known.
She’s been with me for a long while now, we have been through a lot together, failures, successes, laughter, sadness, pain, you could name it all. You could say she was there through it all, actually. During my sad moments, she was the ever-clamorous voice telling me I could not amount to anything, telling me to stay there and not get back up. During my joyous moments she was frank, telling me not to let the joy get to my head, she was much like a safeguard that prevented me from getting too happy.
I once thought I could completely shut her out, but maybe now I realize that she can only do as much damage as I permit. I realize that she is ever real, and that she cannot define me. I realize that she can keep banging on the cell, for soon I would hear her clamors and the clanging no more. She might pop out once in a while, but it wouldn’t matter because she doesn’t define me. It would matter no more, because I am finally no longer in denial. I know she is there, and now that I know, I can move on and keep going, knowing that I am in control. I call the shots, not her; I decide not her. I hold the keys, not her. I guess now I understand that it doesn’t matter that she is there, but it matters more that I know who I am.
In the end, I let her into my house years ago. She came knocking on my doors and I opened it. Maybe that’s the problem because as you see I have been dealing with this ever since. I guess I thought she would leave, but it's obvious she never did. She must have picked a room and got comfortable and settled in. I barricaded the doors after that you know, didn’t want to let anyone in again. It was lonely in the beautiful mansion I had set up in my mind. It was quite like being trapped in one’s own conscience. The funny thing is, I knew building up walls and shutting the world out wouldn’t solve the problem, but that’s the point, I didn’t quite build this house because I thought it would solve the problem; I built it because I thought it was safer in here. I guess it wasn’t though because I am not the only one that’s living in here. The rooms here are immaculate you know, I always repaint, and cover up. It's all locked up, so I guess it's either I let her out, or sit here and let her win, but is it me or her talking? I don’t really know anymore.
I was all alone for so long, with her. I guess I got tired then. She and I spent a lot of time together, deliberating and finding fresh ways to co-exist. I finally had the courage to open up, maybe I felt there had to be more. It doesn’t just disappear you know, but it gets easier when you acknowledge it and start constructively working towards getting better and not letting it control you.
Depression and anxiety are common illnesses, with over 264 million cases worldwide. Unlike normal mood swings and countenance shifts which could occur because of various challenging situations that people face daily, depression is a serious mental issue that can lead to severe and devastating outcomes, ranging from poor function at work, to effects as adverse as committing suicide.
In Africa, depression is the subtle epidemic that has continued to invade the minds of young Africans. It is no surprise that the rate of depression in Africa is higher than European countries and the US, as depression seems to prevail in low-income and middle-income countries. Depression in Africa is said to affect women at twice the rate at which it affects men. With an extreme deficiency in the response to this crisis, a large percentage of the Africans who suffer from depression have no access to effective treatment.
Mental Health is a very important facet of being a human being. Mental illnesses are very real and the devastating effects cannot be over-emphasized. Effective treatments are however available for various mental issues ranging from interpersonal therapy, cognitive-behavioral therapy, to antidepressant medications.
To the African, I say, depression, anxiety and OCD are real mental health issues. Do not be ashamed, or feel alienated, because it can happen to anyone. The first step is always acknowledging it and not being afraid to seek treatment — as we all contribute to the continuous creation of a safe space for people with mental health issues and an increased medical response leading to higher efficiency in the provision of medical treatment for Africans suffering from mental health illnesses.
Inspired by NF, in his song titled Mansion.
If you are suffering from any form of emotional distress, or suicidal thoughts, please seek professional help. You can find information and help, no matter where you live in the world, at this website: https://www.befrienders.org/
This story was published in The Oracle Africa, an afrocentric publication on Medium. Follow the links provided to learn more about us or join our team of writers.
