My Fight

The Expectation 

It was a beautiful morning on the 14th of December 2019, not only was I getting married, but my husband and I were moving to Cape Town in just 2 days after the wedding. My dress was lovely, I would like to say I was a stunning bride but unfortunately my makeup was a mess, but that's a topic for another day. My bridesmaids and my maid of honor were looking amazing, everyone was happy. Saying I was excited would be an understatement, I was on cloud 9, I was marrying the love of my life and I was going to live all those mental struggles I did not understand behind. 

I've had mental issues or struggles for as long as I can recall even though I had no idea what they were or what was causing them. My issues actually date back to High school. I remember struggling throughout my high school life, to connect with people or make friends, to have conversations, to enjoy social gatherings and so forth. I was always so critical of myself, I did not believe I was smart, intelligent, worthy or even beautiful. Other kids also made the situation worse with their mean jokes and bullying. I can recall this one guy who was the worst, he would come and stand next to me and then shout and ask the class which girl had the biggest ears in class. Everyone would look at me and laugh, and I hated my big ears for that reason. This was just the tip of the iceberg; the bullying was a lot, and it was deep. I had no idea how to deal with all of this, so I responded by retreating and keeping to myself. I would go to school, then come back straight home after school. I'm pretty sure I would have stopped even going to school if it was up to me. I stopped going out to chill or play with other kids, I avoided social situations, you would only find me at a social gathering when its necessary and when I have a trusted familiar friend beside me.

These are just a little part of why I was excited about moving to Cape Town. I thought that finally I was going to start a new life somewhere else, I was excited at the thought of making new friends, getting a new job, I thought things were going to change for the better. I thought "wow at last I'm going to be free from all these things that were too heavy on my shoulders all these years." Little did I know that I was still to deal with these, that they were going to come back in full swing, little did I know that these struggles were more internal than external and there was no running away.

The Disappointment 

Its 2020, my husband and I are now in Cape Town. I would love to tell you that things are going my way but that would be a lie. When we got to Cape Town, we both started work at a Christian organization. My husband is the one they wanted actually, and I was just a tag along, at least that's how I felt like when things began to go south. The organization works with university students, which meant I was going to be seeing quite a number of people and meeting new people on a daily basis. The organization at the time was just rebranding, so they were still trying to figure out how they're going to move forward, and the staff members were also trying to figure out their roles, which meant I also had no idea what my role was. The sad part is that I had no idea that they were still trying to figure everything and their own roles out, so when they couldn't give me proper tasks and things to do, my mind started telling me things. This is where my demons started to attack hard.

I started feeling so out of place. I felt confused and lost with no direction. Knowing what to do gives me a sense of security and a bit of confidence, now here I was with no clue or whatsoever of what was expected of me. The feelings of being just a tag along escalated, my mind was telling me that I wasn't even hired on merit even though I had lots of experience in administration. I felt bad about myself, then I started doubting everything, my intelligence and worth, I felt like I wasn't wanted, and I wasn't good enough. It got worse when they would hold meetings and I wouldn't be invited, it was the stamp my mind needed to convince me that I didn't belong, I wasn't smart enough and everyone saw it. I have no idea why I wasn't invited to meetings, the guys probably didn't even give much thought to it, but to me it was a big deal. Seeing new people every day was also not helping the situation, and the fact that this was an academic place only made things worse. Here I was, a girl from the rural areas of King Williams Town, who went to the village schools, studying Bantu Education and spoke only Xhosa at home and with her friends at school her whole life. A girl who couldn't finish her tertiary education because her father couldn't afford tuition fees. Here I was in this academic space, with people who spoke English all the time, with people who spoke about education all the time.

I felt so small. I was so scared to utter even a single word in my village Bantu Education English. I felt like the dumbest person to ever exist. I wasn't good enough, I had nothing better to contribute, I knew nothing, I was just a village girl. Funny enough, people (especially in academic spaces) will always ask you questions that are also not helpful in their attempt of getting to know you. They would ask questions like; what did you study? What do you do? and so forth. I felt like dying every time someone asked me such questions, sometimes I literally felt like a part of me died every time I had to answer such. It was hard, I was struggling. At times I would just sit, keep quiet and watch everyone talking, not because I didn't want to talk, but I felt small, I doubted myself. I would sit and have a debate in my head about whether I should say something or not, I would wonder if everyone won't think I'm stupid if I eventually do say something and it happens to be dumb, they will look at me weirdly, everyone always does, it'll be awkward. I would eventually convince myself to keep quiet, but then I would feel bad about keeping quiet too. I would wonder what everyone was thinking about me, I would wonder what they were saying about me when I'm not there.

My struggle was real, and it was taking its toll on me. I started feeling tired all the time, but the exhaustion was more emotional than physical. I would feel so drained every day when I come back from work, I would start crying and falling apart. I felt so empty inside, there was this bad feeling of sadness that would just come and weigh down on my spirit, I couldn't even explain it to my husband, but I was sinking. It got to a point where I would manage to go to work from Monday to Wednesday maybe, but by the time Thursday comes I'd be too exhausted and too drained to go to work. I knew that my struggle was worse when I'm at work, so this was more reason for me to avoid going. The worst part is that I felt like no one understands, not even my husband. No matter how hard I tried to put what was happening into words he still wouldn't get it.

 

I sank still. Eventually I struggled to sleep at night, I was so unhappy. I felt like I was in a deep hole and there was no way out. I didn't see any light at the end of the tunnel, there was no sun, it was just darkness all around. I felt like the only solution to the whole thing was death. I wanted to die, I wanted to be free, I was exhausted, I was sad, and I couldn't take it anymore. I looked back and felt like all my life I've always had to be strong, but now I had reached a breaking point, I couldn't be strong any longer. I thought of overdosing on pills, I thought of jumping down the balcony, anything to run away from this sorrow. There were times where I felt like cutting, believing that the physical pain will take away the emotional pain I couldn't bear. I just wanted to numb the pain; I was done. Cape Town didn't turn out the way I thought it would, I wasn't happy, I was disappointed.

Facing The Demons

A young person's physical, emotional, and relational well-being forms the foundation on which they'll build the rest of their lives. Stress and traumatic episodes can rock this foundation. And if a young person is left to face these challenges alone, they may struggle to recover. -Unknown 

Cape Town wasn't what I thought it would be, it looked like my demons had followed me, I thought things would be better but how wrong was I. I hadn't been going to work, I wanted to be in the house with closed curtains and stay in bed the whole day crying and contemplating suicide. I still had no idea what was going on with me, all I knew was that I was very sad, and I wanted it to stop. I remember crying saying to my husband "I just want to be happy, and I just want to be normal" (whatever that means). One day our boss suggested that maybe I should go for therapy. I wasn't so keen, what does a village girl know about therapy? Besides, how would talking to some stranger help solve the problem? but I agreed to therapy anyway, anything to help me out of the dark hole.

The first time I visited a therapist she suggested that I should see a doctor, she suspected depression. I then visited the doctor, and I was diagnosed with severe depression. Knowing that I was depressed helped to make sense of everything that was happening, but it changed nothing. I started taking antidepressants and continued with therapy, this is where all things began to make sense, where I got to understand what was happening, therapy helped to bring things to light. Suddenly all the dots were connecting, I realized that I've actually been dealing with depression for quite some time, and I just had no idea that it was depression or maybe I was in denial. I realized that I didn't get depressed by moving to Cape Town, but the move just escalated things, because I was now in a new space, around unfamiliar people, away from my comfort zone.

Therapy made me realize that my issues are quite old, they actually dated back to childhood. The bad childhood experiences, the trauma I never dealt with and everything else that happened in between. It was time to go back and face my demons, it was time to stop suppressing stuff and pretending to be okay. It was time to bring those bad experiences to light and talk about them, it was time to heal.

Facing The Demons 2

I've never understood therapy, I always wondered how talking to some stranger about your problems helps, little did I know that life would actually force me to therapy myself and I must say, I was becoming a fan. It wasn't easy though, I wish someone would have told me that healing won't be easy, maybe I would have cut my expectations down. Healing is hard, maybe even harder than avoiding the issues or suppressing them. Healing is like having to open up a wound that has already formed scabs to clean it so it can heal properly and not be infected.

I was struggling, there were days where I would just cry and tell my husband I'm not going for therapy anymore because it hurts, the therapist makes me cry and she makes me sad. My husband would beg me to go and eventually I would, and I'm grateful to God that my husband was there to give me a nudge and support me through everything. One of the things therapy helped me to figure out was how much the childhood experiences had messed me up. I had a very low self-esteem, I struggled to believe I was beautiful no matter what anybody said, I feared social situations, I was always my worst critic. I now understood where all these insecurities stemmed from, and it was time to deal with the roots.

I experienced some bullying when I was in primary school and a little bit also when I was in high school. Other kids used to laugh at me, they would even make hand gestures and facial expressions laughing at my big ears, long chin, big forehand, big ears and so forth. The worst of it all though was when I was in standard 2, the school was going to throw a farewell party for us since we were leaving for higher primary. The boys were told to pick their partners from the girls because the party would be some sort of ball, so we needed partners. I remember standing there waiting for some boy to pick me, and no boy ever did. I was sad, luckily there was this shy boy who remained because he was scared to pick anyone, so the teachers said, "well you two will just go together". That day I went home with a heavy heart, I went straight to my room and cried my heart out. Everyone was right after all, I was the ugliest girl to ever exist, I mean if no boy at the whole standard two wanted to pick me, I must be really ugly, I now believed it. What sealed my belief though was when the day of the farewell party arrived, and even shiest boy in std 2 bailed on me. I had no partner, I felt rejected, I was sad, and I was ugly. 

A lot of other similar situations occurred, but I will not get into them now. The bullying started happening even outside of school when I'm out playing with other kids. They would say mean things and laugh at me, eventually I was tired and at some point, I retreated, I kept to myself. I would play by myself at home, I created my own imaginary world and imaginary characters. The funny thing is I always featured in these imaginary stories, and I was always the most beautiful girl, the most loved and the smartest. The best thing was that no one would be able to hurt me there, I was safe. I grew up with my imaginary world to a point where I started feeling like I lived in my head. I would literally act up the stories, literally speak for the characters and even laugh by myself. As I grew up however, I started doubting my sanity, but I just couldn't help it. 

Now I was here in therapy, and everything made sense. I understood why I had a very low self-esteem, and why I felt so ugly. It all stemmed from the bullying, deep down I was still that little girl who believed that she was the ugliest girl because everyone around her told her or made her to believe so. I remember sitting in front of my therapist and crying, telling her that I just want to be beautiful and confident. She didn't understand exactly why it mattered but it did. I wanted to be beautiful because I believed I wasn't, and because of that I had no confidence. I now had to face the bullying and reject everything I was made to believe and accept about myself. I had to allow myself to heal.

The Bad Habits/ My Cry for Help

Ever since I can remember I've always had some weird things I never understood about myself. Things I did, things I said sometimes, or the way I said them, my thoughts and at times my feelings. During the course of therapy, I figured out that some of these things developed due to some bad childhood experience, they were some sort of defense, and some were my way of coping. Take the imaginary world for an example, I created that world to help myself cope with the rejection I felt around people, it also helped me to stay away from people because they were mean, so my world kept me safe and there I was in charge and in control. 

One of the things I loved doing was pretending to be sick. Growing up I was never a sickly person, so that meant I was missing out on that TLC sick people usually get. I started pretending to be sick, sometimes I would have just a slight headache and I would make it sound worse than it is. Back then I never wondered why I was doing this, I just enjoyed the attention it brought me, but now therapy was forcing me to ask myself why. I realized how hungry I was for love, and I wanted so deeply to feel cared for. This pretense was my cry for love, it's a pity that I had to resort to lies in order to feel loved and cared for. 

I also had this tendency of acting like I've got everything figured out. I didn't want people to think I'm not intelligent, I hated feeling stupid, so I pretended my way through life. When I finished high school, I had no idea what I was going to do next, in fact I would have been the happiest girl in the world if my parents had allowed me to just stay at home, but I had no choice but to go and study. Like always, I pretended to have things figured out, I went and registered for a course I didn't even like and tried to convince myself and everyone that I loved it. The worst part about this is that with all this pretending and lying you end up losing the sense of who you are, you end up believing the lies, you end up not knowing the things you really hate or really love. You end up forgetting the person you really are, you end up living a lie believing that its true.

I went through life telling people lies because I did not want to sound stupid or like I don't have things figured out. When someone asks me a question, my defenses would go up immediately, I would think of the best possible answer to give them, so they don't think I'm stupid. Eventually I began to believe these best possible answers about myself instead of the right and true answers. I lost myself and I wasn't even aware. Therapy helped in bringing all these things to light, the hardest thing to deal with was realizing that I had no idea who I was, everything I thought I knew about myself came crashing down. I had to start afresh, I had to find myself, I had to lay down my defenses, I had to allow myself to be vulnerable so I can find my true self that got lost on the way.

It wasn't easy, I remember crying, telling my therapist that I don't know who I am anymore. She told me I was in a good space; I did not understand what she meant then, but eventually I did. All those walls of defense I had built over the years were now down, I was now aware of everything that was happening, and I knew why it was happening, I had a chance to start over, I had a chance to rebuild in truth, not with lies or pretense. I now understood why I was always so exhausted and drained, pretending and lying your way through life is no child's play, but I did it anyway because I was afraid to be my true self, I didn't want people to reject me, I just wanted to belong, feel loved and accepted. It was time to let go of the habits, it was time to lay down the defenses, at last someone was listening, at last, someone was hearing my cry.

The Journey of Healing

Healing doesn't happen overnight, it takes time. Maybe some people do eventually beat depression and be rid of it, but I believe that some do not, some go through therapy to be aware and learn to cope with it. Laying down defenses that you built over years can't be a once off thing, it might take years, but I believe with all my heart that it's possible. I'm still on my journey of healing, some days are better than others, some are worse. There are times where I feel like I'm on top of the world and I can conquer anything or I can even climb mount Everest, then there are times where I feel like a sinking ship, where I feel like going away from everything and from everyone.

One would wonder why I still feel this way after therapy and antidepressants. Well, I believe that antidepressants do not cure depression or anxiety, they just help to calm your mind down so you can be able to deal with whatever is going on. Therapy is also not a quick fix, it just helps to point you in the right direction, it assists in processing and putting things into perspective, it helps in bringing awareness so you can deal with something you know instead of fighting with demons you don't even know. Therapy helped me in connecting the dots, but I still had a lot of work to do. The journey of healing is a long one and it requires patience and grace.

I might not be there yet, but I'm surely in a much better space than I was before. I'm grateful to God for church family and friends. One of the things I realized was how much I needed people in my life, anxiety and depression told me to stay away from them because they are mean, and they hurt other people. Healing has shown me how they can be a source of support and hope. One can never deal with anxiety and depression by themselves, it takes family, it takes friends and community. No one wakes up and ask for a messed-up life, we don't ask for the bad things that happen to us, we never asked for those bad childhood experiences, we did not get to decide, we were not given a choice, we definitely would have chosen otherwise. However, we are asking for a little kindness, just a bit of love and support. We want to heal, we want to get better, we are trying so hard, but it takes too long. We are asking for a bit of understanding; we are asking for just a bit of patience.