“Gosh! Stop being so dramatic!”
The above line is something I have heard quite a lot in my life. Most of the time that will be the last line I hear from that person before I walk away. Because a person crying out for help is not dramatic. A person who could feel the walls closing in on her is not going to calmly ask for help. A person who has no idea what sort of help he/she needs is not going to be composed about it.
And a person who is battling depression and loneliness is never going to be silent. No one wants to be alone in this world. I have been struggling with such problems for as long as I can remember. I remember asking to play with my brother to be scolded upon and ignored. I remember trying to ask my parents to spend more time with me and getting the standard replies of “I am busy. I have work. Go ask someone else.”
I remember starting to hesitate to even sit with classmates during lunch. Because I saw that I was not welcomed and that made me feel uneasy in asking again. Mostly they will call me to sit with them out of sympathy. But sadly sympathy dies down. Pretty easily. And unfortunately sympathy dies down at the exact moment when you get used to someone’s company. You learn you shouldn’t have gotten comfortable. It breaks your heart. Oh! It hurts more than a romantic break up.
But most people learn to live with it. They deal with it. Because they concentrate on some other aspect of their lives. Some people become workaholics, some people hide behind books at all times, some people chase a dream, some people live in an artsy world and the rare ones find a nice partner and settle with them.
Those rare ones are lucky as hell. But it gets so overwhelming that people try to kick the bucket. Those are the people who never find something else to be busy with.
I am part of the anxious gang. The scared ones who had been pushed to the brink once and are scared they are being pushed again. The one who don’t want to be pushed to the brink anymore. But any calls for help are considered exagerrated and being Dramatic. I have been said to be an attention seeking person, a drama queen and what not. But the very people who ignore me and call me such names are the ones who can’t bear the blame put on them when I do something extreme.
This is no threat. But it was something that happened. The people I called friends ignored my cries, were too busy to see the hints, had priorities and did not have the heart to spend quality time with me anymore. So when I overdosed, these people hated me. They hated the fact that I forgot them. What they missed to catch even then was that they forgot me a lot and one action of mine alone is unforgivable.
I still remember being slapped as soon as I was shifted back to a room from the ICU. I was being selfish it seems. When I told them that they were partially the cause, they left. They said I am just trying to blame them and it was all my fault alone. I did not tell them it seems.
Let me tell you one thing. No depressed person is ready to talk about their issues. No lonely person is going to hold your hand and say “Please don’t leave me.” Their way of asking for help is to hang out. They ask if you are free enough to talk. No matter how close you are. That is all they need. They want care that is not initiated by sympathy. But sadly unless someone has a health ailment people fail to pay attention to them. Or at least that has been the case with me.
They have to pack up a lot of courage just to press the green button on their phone. Don’t insult that courage because that might as well be the last time they put that much effort. Don’t call it dramatic. Don’t call it to be emotional blackmail. Don’t give names to it. If you want to help, just sit with a cup of coffee and talk to that person. Not necessarily have to be about their struggles. Nope! It could be general trivia. Please don’t be annoyed. Your one hour could save a person’s life for all you know.
Please don’t let another person wish they had died on their first attempt itself. None of you deserve the guilt and the pain.