stigma

When you hear Netflix, the next word that comes to mind is Chill, yeah? Lol. Chill. Of the many shows on Netflix, the one I hate the most is 13 Reasons Why. Lubnah had to beg me, several times to watch it. Bruh, that show is suicidal af. That’s what I thought when I saw the promos all over Facebook/Instagram.

So one day I’m really bored and I watch the series, because Lubnah insisted on saving them on my laptop with words close to if not at all ‘you’ll watch it when you’re ready to or when you run out of stuff to watch and re-run’.

My thoughts are confirmed. That series was wild from the word go! And not wild in a good way. P.S I’m not making a review or rating it but I think if anything they gratified Suicide, instead of preventing it by causing awareness. I mean at the end of the day, the girl did slit her wrists and died in a bathtub or whatever. It is so dark in such a way that I fear some not so smart kid, will borrow a leaf from Hannah Baker’s book and you know record shit on CD or Flash Drive just so she could make everyone who hurt her pay. After their death.

I know, at this point you’re all thinking like “Why is she being insensitive to stuff she probably hasn’t gone through”. This is obviously the most polite way of telling me I’m a b#tch. I am not about to disregard Mental Disorders because I for one know that they’re as real as they can be. I might not have had an episode of a nervous breakdown but I know of people close to me who have. Or at least on several occasions spiraled out of ‘normality’ and go down the rabbit hole. That place is shitty as hell because it’s like fighting to live when you’re drowning, but then you wanna give up and go like mahn,let’s just get it over with.

Bulimia isn’t a cute brown haired girl with her friend pulling back her hair as she makes her way out of a classy hotel after glaming herself in the washroom. It’s a puffed face girl with vomit trickling down her cheeks. Anorexia isn’t someone shyly refusing to eat a cupcake. It’s constant avoiding food because paranoia. Don’t even get me started with Depression, that shit isn’t a TV show model with smudged mascara down her face, it’s staying awake at night staring at the ceiling and wishing you could for once close your eyes without tearing up and wish you’d be like everyone else. Anxiety and Panic attacks aren’t just hyperventilating and shortness of breath where some cute guy will surprise kiss you so you can get your breathing pattern together, it’s walking in late in a room full of people thinking they’re judging you or sitting in a room full of people and fight the urge to make your way to the toilet when you’re so pressed. Self harm is not a cute boy raining kisses or caressing your scars, it’s a constant fringing reminder that one day you gave up all your will to live and decided that that is perhaps the easiest way out, it’s wearing long sleeves because your hands sting when water runs on them. So stop romanticizing and covering up all the mental disorders with effects that teenagers would adapt and imitate.

You know like how HIV/AIDS revolves around some super powerful virus thwarting your white blood cells and making them so weak to an extent even the weaklings of all bacteria on the surrounding make your immune system useless, Mental Disorders is having super powerful invisible people each trying to dominate your mind all at once and your mind becomes so fringing clueless on which to follow it becomes confused by its own self. This is as close as I can come to defining what a mental disorder is.

Sometimes I think suicide is for cowards. Perhaps this is the half part of me that hasn’t had a mental crisis. The logical and there’s an answer to everything. Don’t get me wrong, I am not trying to undermine anyone who’s ever had suicidal thoughts…but come on man…you’re better than that. Life is too short to be living under constant pressure from your own self. But then, there’s the other compassionate and empathetic half of me that thinks like have I considered how many times this person tried to talk to anyone about it and they disregarded them. Because people, like 80% of all of us think its non existent and just say ‘you’ll get better’; and when they finally acknowledge its existence, they think its something that is curable, like take a pill and you know Pharmacokinetics will play its part and you’ll get well. It doesn’t happen that way. A person with anxiety needs constant reassurance that it is not going to end as horribly as their brain made it to be. Or that the weirdly giant web of entangled thoughts are just but thoughts that they have control over; because really, they don’t.

There was the old guy, the comedian who killed himself…Robbin Williams, I loved him as Genie in Aladdin and the Nanny in Mrs. Doubtfire. He killed himself but then his wife attributes his cause of suicide as a struggle with Lewy Body disease. This brings me back to my point, how people close to the affected ones shun their suffering because ‘Oi, its effects are not medically tangible you know’ I mean I could be having anger management issues and spontaneous anger outbursts that lead to displacement..like hitting stuff to breaking point. That people will acknowledge because its effect is seen. You damaged stuff, but for a depressed person, they’ll just consider you sad and so like yeah, just get up and go be happy because someone out there is not as ‘fortunate’ as you are.

The other day a 26 yr old French guy of Pakistani origin threw himself of the Tawwaf ring at Makkah is it. So many theories revolve around my head. You know like perhaps he had been battling depression, and no one notices this and he is left to literally withdraw himself from society, but then this is where perhaps religion comes in and so he goes like ‘Lemme go for Umrah, the peace and solitude will make me feel better’ but obviously that’s not it so he ends up throwing himself and him plummeting to his death.

But is suicide really the end game? I mean yes you’re dead…but when you die…it is not you who feels your death…it is the people close to you, your loved ones. Those are the people who feel the consequences in the world. That’s not the end of it though, is it? I mean yeah, so you killed yourself…you’d expect God and His angels to like welcome you with open arms? Like he had been fighting this for so long we were waiting for you to come home. That’s not it… Allah says (interpretation of the meaning): “… And do not kill yourselves (nor kill one another). Surely, Allaah is Most Merciful to you. And whoever commits that through aggression and injustice, We shall cast him into the Fire, and that is easy for Allah” [al-Nisa’ 4:29]

Abu Hurayrah (radi Allahu anhu) narrated that the Prophet (salallahu alaihi wa sallam) said: “Whoever throws himself down from a mountain and kills himself will be in the Fire of Hell, throwing himself down therein forever and ever. Whoever takes poison and kills himself, his poison will be in his hand and he will be sipping it in the Fire of Hell forever and ever. Whoever kills himself with a piece of iron, that piece of iron will be in his hand and he will be stabbing himself in the stomach with it in the Fire of Hell, forever and ever.” [Sahih Al-Bukhari and Muslim]

It was narrated from Thaabit ibn al-Dahhaak (radi Allahu anhu) that the Messenger of Allah (salallahu alaihi wa sallam) said: “Whoever kills himself with something in this world will be punished with it on the Day of Resurrection.” [Sahih Al-Bukhari and Muslim]

And in the full narration of the Hadith in discussion (and with a different translation) it was narrated that Jundub ibn ‘Abd-Allah (radi Allahu anhu) said: The Messenger of Allah (salallahu alaihi wa sallam) said: “Among those who came before you there was a man who was wounded and he panicked, so he took a knife and cut his hand with it, and the blood did not stop flowing until he died. Allah said: ‘My slave hastened to bring about his demise; I have forbidden Paradise to him.” [Sahih Al-Bukhari and Muslim]

This might come out harsh you know…but then God doesn’t give you a burden you can’t bear, just do everything else but don’t you ever give up on God yo! I mean yeah it’s hard and all but it is said that no affliction shall befall a man, But from it is a sin is expiated. Why you insist on getting to Jahannam when Allah has willed for you paradise for your perseverance and endurance? But then again who knows perhaps the said person was a believer in Allah and His Messenger and a follower of Tawheed, not a mushrik, so that automatically makes him subjected to the will of Allah. If Allah wills He will forgive him, and if He wills He will punish him, but even if He punishes him He will eventually bring him forth from the Fire, because Allah says (interpretation of the meaning): “Verily, Allah forgives not that partners should be set up with Him (in worship), but He forgives except that (anything else) to whom He wills” [al-Nisa’ 4:48]

This clearly shows how much suicide is considered NOT THE WAY OUT.

Oh dear hurting, wavering soul, talk, talk and talk to anyone and everyone about it. Shout if you have to so that some years later, a boy/girl can proudly speak up because you projected their words. Talk so that not another single human would resolve to suicide by wondering at what point in time did they lose their voices. Talk because talking already makes it better. I mean you’re spewing your messed up thoughts to someone real not the virtual horcruxes in your mind trying to take over and that they’re going to be there for you and help you by constantly reassuring youre actually not insane.

And as for the ‘normals’, be a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on and a hand to lean on when things get rough for someone close to you. Stop being close minded about Mental Illness because it’s as real as Multiple Sclerosis and Lupus and Cancer.

Also, I know I might come off b#tchy and all, but yeah, I promise I’ll try to listen to you when you wanna b#tch about your ‘virtual dweller’. Also I’m a good secret keeper, James and Lily Potter would still be alive if they hadn’t chosen the rat coz he snitched…I might tell Lubnah though, coz she’s like 99% feely and I’m 99% assertive….but that’s about it. She might reach out and be there for you…because she’s a darling like that. Just Kidding, I kinda have myself vested in the Patient Doctor confidentiality so your troubles are safe with me.☺☺

CHAPTER THREE

Photo Courtesy: http://www.terapeak.com/

Continuation from chapter two: http://lubnah.me.ke/spreading-the-wings-chapter-2/

“Being born in an Asian society with disability has a stigma of its own and discrimination. This was the situation before Dear Diary was born.

After having struggled to live up to everyone’s expectations, having adjusted to all kinds of situations environmentally and also the attitude of people taking me for granted, always keeping the disabled on the side, not including them in the community in any kind of decision making, is what gave birth to Dear Diary.

Down the line after 10 years I am glad that the way people look at me now is different from 10 years ago. Now I am considered part of the society. It wasn’t easy to build a name to keep up to, the pace to keep a smile and keep going, but I have proved my stand. Today I am respected. People want to be associated with me. People want to support me in all that I do purely for humanity and this is a great achievement.

However there is still discrimination where marriage is concerned. People especially in the Asian society have a mindset that a person with disability should not fall in love or have a partner whereas the same disabled person can be part of everything else in the society.

So it makes me wonder why a man or a woman with disability in the Asian society or culture is considered to be not in need of love or to be loved by that special someone…” Nafisa Khanbhai

We have probably seen so many disabled people in our lives; on the streets, in our work places, in our homes and in our communities. As much as they could be outstanding, hardworking, beautiful, strong…there would always be a ‘but’ in the middle of the sentence.

“She is capable and talented to do the job, but she doesn’t have legs…”

“He has outstanding qualifications, but he is deaf…”

“She is beautiful, she would have made a wonderful wife and mother, but…”

The ‘buts’ could go on and on forever and this is because we no longer look at them as normal human beings as what we are. But this is the funny part of life right? Someone ‘normal’ could be so depressed, with so much on their plate, their hearts could be tearing apart, they can barely focus and think straight, yet we still give them the chance to work, to get married, to have a family and a social life, because ‘everyone deserves a chance to prove what they are really capable of.’ Then why can’t we offer the same opportunities to those who are disabled yet still can do what any other normal person can do?

I can’t totally deny that there are some disabled people who can’t do some things because it is simply beyond their power, beyond their abilities and capabilities but there are those who have stood out from the crowd. They are always there but they end up seating on the pavements of the road, begging. Sometimes it is because this is the easiest way out of their troubles but sometimes, they really have no other way except this. And this is because you have stigmatized them; we have.

Have you ever seen the fuss we make when someone gets married or marries a blind girl, or an albino, or a man with no legs, or a lady who is both deaf and dumb? We make it seem like they are aliens, they belong to a world that is close to ours but not exactly the same as ours. Why then don’t we exaggerate the same way when someone marries a totally distorted soul? A soul that is crying out for help? Is it because they are beautiful on the outside or that they are good at covering their pain with a lovely smile?

I am not saying that people with depression issues don’t deserve to be married or be employed or be happy in their lives because anyway, we are all victims of the pain in our hearts. We just endure it differently. But my point is, if we can accept ourselves with all our unseen imperfections and flaws, why then not accept those whose flaws are visible and can be seen?

Mrs Fatema narrates of how once a visitor came home and found Nafisa in a bad state and she quickly told her that maybe someone did some witchcraft or something of the sort to Nafisa. But Nafisa’s mother is a believer that God tests anyone in any way, and this was their test.

The stigma is there everywhere. People believing that disabled people are cursed or victims of witchcraft or a punishment from God etcetera etcetera so however much they may be friends with them or colleagues, there is still some tension in the air, a gap that is always there to differentiate them; ‘the normal people’ to him/her, ‘the disabled’. There is that fine unseen, yet felt line between these two kinds of people and perhaps this line will exist forever.

Go to supermarkets, Government buildings, malls, Company offices, hospitals, schools, how many actually have ‘disabled-friendly’ environments? Are there any wheelchairs, ramps, sign language translators, brail documents? Ask any disabled person how many times they had to cancel their plans because they can’t climb the stairs? Or that there is no one to communicate to with sign language? How many times have you seen a disabled person board a matatu? Have you seen how hectic it is for them? Are the conductors and drivers patient enough to let them board the vehicle and sit comfortably before rushing off? How many schools are there for the disabled? What is the condition of these schools? Most of the times, they are pathetic and sometimes teachers are the same ones who take advantage of the students’ conditions.

Why do we wait until we have become victims ourselves, or until we fall in love with one of them, or when one of our close friends or family members becomes a disabled, is when we decide to think rationally and humanly about them? These people are most often than not, around us or near us all the time. We just don’t see them or even look at them. We don’t try putting ourselves in their shoes. We never think of how that could be you or me someday. We forget that God has never stopped creating us and that we too could become handicapped at any moment in our lives. And I mean, ANY MOMENT. It could even be right now as you read this…

I am not trying to curse you or anyone else. I am trying to remind you that God can twist your story whenever He wills. You just have to be humble to those less advantaged than you. Try helping out whenever you can to those disabled, even if it is just by granting them your true friendship, loyalty and companionship.

I am just trying to tell you that the next time you see a disabled person, treat them like how you would want someone else to treat you if you were wearing the same shoes…

To be continued…stay tuned 🙂

WOe MENt-al Health

UNBROKEN WINGS; THE NEST