No individual remains unaffected by concerns of mental well-being. Yet, when you or a cherished person is navigating such challenges, it frequently seems as though you’re isolated in obscurity, seeking illumination. In recognition of World Mental Health Day, we are unveiling a collection of narratives, initiating today and continuing through the weekend, addressing this subject from a personal perspective. We aspire that these stories provide a bit of understanding into the diverse manners in which individuals grapple, and how they can emerge on the other side with pride and elegance.
I am seated alone on the sofa, enveloped by a heavy blanket gifted by my husband’s grandmother. The living area is dim save for the luminescence from the television. An installment of X-Files is softly playing.
My sister has been residing with us for a week at this point.
Possibly she turns to me in times of distress because I am her senior. Perhaps it’s her comfort in being her authentic self when she’s with me. I don’t judge her for extended periods of sleep. I don’t try to explain away her suspicions or confront the illusions that arise from her schizoaffective condition and substance usage. Alternatively, it might be that my spare room is considerably more comfortable than the accommodation she experienced in mental health or rehabilitation facilities.
The bottoms of her sleepwear were tucked beneath her feet when she ambled to bed earlier. Yet, I suspect she remains awake. Even with a 15-foot distance and a wall dividing us, I can perceive her sleeplessness as I do my own. The medication she employs to soothe her thoughts is not always effective. (Roughly one-third of individuals diagnosed with a significant depressive disorder are identified as treatment-resistant, characterized in guidelines provided by Johns Hopkins as “persistent depression symptoms in individuals who have experimented with various antidepressants or antidepressant classes.”)
I collect a small tumbler of tap water and quietly approach the hallway’s end. I gently knock on the door. I do not await a reply before carefully nudging the door open, an embodiment of my elder sibling role, forever taking the reins and asserting that I possess the means to resolve matters.