Yesterday I come up with a list of things i want to start doing regularly if not everyday
- Blog
- Journal
- Draw
- Work out
I started taking free online drawing lessons. I have a natural ability to draw fairly well, but i have never taken an art class or had any formal instructions on that, so now that i have some free time, i want to pursue that interest. I have drawn something today and done a couple of shading exercises, so i decided to blog next.
Even though i might be anonymous to a lot of you, i'm not exactly an anonymous blogger. Not only do friends, some classmates and family have access to this blog, i also have my pictures on instagram. So lately, it's been quite a challenge to figure out what to share especially since i am actually still dealing with some of the things i would like to talk about.
I think any insightful or perceptive long time reader of this blog can easily put two and two together and figure out something is wrong even if they don't know what. I'm not interested in complaining and ranting about how unfair life can be on here because that's what my paper journal is for. I'll say this though, twice in my life i have become a statistic (or maybe 3 times).
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1 in 4 women will experience domestic violence (intimate partner violence) in their life time. The first time i heard that stat was in my Psychology of Women's course in undergrad. That was also the first time it dawned on me that i was a statistic. I was the one out of four. I had never been around any kind of relationship abuse, so i had no clue that the emotional and verbal abuse could possibly turn physical. It didn't even cross my mind. Without going into details and being overly dramatic, let's just say i am thankful I did not die that day. I could very, very, very, very, very, easily have been killed that day. I saw a human being turn into an unrecognizable monster and before the skeptics and victim blamers ask me what I did to cause it, you would just have to take my word that I didn't do anything wrong. I wrote a statement for my lawyer in 2005 when it happened and I have never read it again. When I let someone read it this year, the comment I got was "that guy shouldn't be allowed around women". They said it read like a Nollywood movie, which was a very apt statement because the whole experience was very surreal. I am so thankful for my family. The day that guy hit me was the last day I spoke to him. The only times i saw him after that was in court.
I'm completely over that experience, thankfully. I was in therapy for a year because of it. Some stupid Nigerian guy (who lives in Nigeria) who was trying to talk to me back then said i should get over myself, what do I mean I'm in therapy because a guy hit me "Na only you man done beat before?" those were his exact words to me. I was just like wow, wow, wow.
My experience with this guy also gave me the opportunity to see what a FRENEMY looked like. That was a lesson i am very glad i had early on. I have picked my close friends very wisely since then. I'd rather not have any friends than to have a snake as a friend. That girl was the height of evil. God forbid!
It would be nice to say i will tell you guys the full story one day, but I know I won't. I'm not trying to remember all of that mess.
- ~25% of medical students suffer from depression. "Research also suggests that black students are particularly more susceptible to suicidal thoughts"
Source
There's this Mnemonic SIG E CAPS that is used to screen for major depression - Sleep, Interest, Guilt (or hopelessness), Energy, Concentration, Appetite, Psychomotor agitation or retardation, Suicidal
There's a big difference between just having a bad day vs being sad vs clinical depression. During my first and second years, I was surprised and very thankful that
I didn't get depressed but i was beyond stressed out. I felt like i was in a never ending hazing process. The madness was unreal but I would have a bad day, sleep it off and bounce
back the next day. But from mid 2012, I started hanging out more in the sad but not completely depressed zone. I'll leave all the gruesome details out as to the whys and hows, but being in med school can be a bitch. I would constantly screen myself for depression using SIGECAPS, sometimes I would have 5 or 6 out of 8, but never 8 out of 8. But Instead of things to get better with time, they got worse when i started scoring 8 out of 8 constantly.
I don't have a lazy bone in my body, so when I saw myself spending whole weekends in bed, only getting up to pee and barely eating, I knew there was a problem, talk about psychomotor retardation. I was pratically a zombie for all intents and purposes. The whole time I would be in the hospital, all i'm thinking of is when i can leave and go lie down in my bed. I remember days when I would go to clinic and not even bother saying a word when i went in with the doctor to see the patient, even though the doctor specifically asked me to chime in and interview the patient with him (I thought that was a shitty way to do things anyway).
I have a Bachelors in Psychology which i believe is a blessing to me as a Nigerian female because it allowed me to destigmatize and give appropriate importance and attention to mental illness. Towards the end of last year, I
literally couldn't exist anymore. When your mind is not right, nothing can be right. I would come home from rotations and curl up on the floor in a corner of my apartment with my hands pressed hard against my ears trying to drown out my thoughts. I didn't want to hear the thoughts in my head, it was a battle and i wasn't winning. I constantly dealt with the thought of hanging myself but I knew I wouldn't do it because I love my mother and my little nieces too much to do that to them. Inspite of all this, I would still have get up in the morning, dress up, show up to rotations and act attentive and enthusiastic. Do you know what hell is? I know what hell is. I have been there, I lived there for months and it is horrible. September 16th, 2013 i was driving to go take a shelf exam, I had just taken step 2 CK less than 2 days prior (Sept 14th) and i spent the night of the 15th unable to sleep or study due to freaking out. As i drove to school that morning, there was this truck coming in the opposite direction from me and it took all the will power i had not to drive in front of it. That freaked me out! I was the last person to show up for the exam. I don't know how i took that exam and passed because I wasn't even 50% mentally present for that exam.
On October 29th, 2013, my birthday, I was on overnight call in the hospital, but I had an appointment I had no intention of missing. My birthday present to myself last year was to go see a psychiatrist, so i could attempt to get my mind right and want to live again.
I'm still on that journey.
