We Have All Been There - Part 1.

BY IGAL MUSARA

It’s 2am in the morning and I’m still up. It’s the depression maybe. It comes in episodes that feel like moments of epiphany. Venting out on social media after ingesting a shit load of pain numbing substances is usually the cure. But then again I like sharing, it’s a thing.

From the time I was about 19 I was convinced that I could shrink myself , be my own therapist. I was my own therapist for as long as I can remember and I would to think that I still am one. I’m guessing you are questioning yourself right now, ‘...what exactly did he need therapy for?’ I’m aware it is not common among blacks let alone in Zimbabwe. It would not be so outrageous a statement to say, it’s unheard of. If anything, therapy is a TV thing. If I am being absolutely honest , I got to know and understand the concept of therapy through TV. Of course I had a little help from uncle Google.

However, this does not automatically mean that I am nothing but a black kid in his early twenties completely brainwashed by the endless influx of Western media content. I actually made a critical analysis of the culture of having a specific something or someone that once in a while helps one to self-introspect and face our ‘demons’. It’s a culture that promotes an individual’s emotional and mental growth. The culture of therapy should be embraced by everyone despite their race, gender or even financial background. Mental health issues are human issues not just ‘first world problems’.

I didn’t have an exactly rosy childhood. My dad passed before I had even started kindergarten, I had to live with my mom, a Christian vegetable vendor. That was only until the summer of 2010, my mom then passed away as well. Through out my high school I was adjusting to a new reality. I have to admit , it was not the easiest of transitions- getting to know new people, attempting to fit in without completely erasing my true self in the process. The stress and discomfort was overwhelming especially for a 14year old kid. The transition from an urban to rural set-up, from childhood into semi-adulthood and handling losses I have had earlier in life. I would get depressed and I needed help heaving all the insecurities, self-hate, confusion and grief off my shoulders.

Fortunately, I already knew about therapy and understood how it works. I’m not talking about the 300$ per session sort of thing. I’m talking confiding to a close friend, colleague or even a total stranger if you have the guts. I’m talking therapeutic walks, creating calm and relaxing playlists or just being creative. I can be that simple to fight depression and reduce the continuously rising number of depression cases globally. That’s just me thou, it could have been simple enough for me to handle it on my own but that can’t be the case for everyone. If you feel like you need professional help, by all means, go for it. All you need is to trust in the process.

I strongly believe that knowing the truth about ourselves and others is an uncomfortable but powerful way of healing ourselves. Therapy allows you to face such truths. Pain , regret, rejection or disappointment- it’s all a part of everyone’s life story. It’s the coping mechanisms we use that determine our post-depression selves. We have all been there, coming out of it may seem hard but it is doable.