Mental Health today seems to be what everyone is talking about, but very few people truly understand what it means. The very concept of mental strength is misunderstood right from the start. People often mistake a calm demeanor or the reluctance to share emotions as signs of mental strength. This misconception, I’ve learned through personal experience, needs to be dispelled.
I was 16 when I lost my mother to cancer after a two-year battle. Her passing left us all heartbroken. Opening her cupboard the day after she passed, her scent overwhelmed me with a tsunami of emotions. I cried uncontrollably, clutching her clothes in an attempt to keep her close. However, this act only intensified my pain. In an attempt to shield myself from further anguish, I closed off my emotions, believing it to be the sensible thing to do. Little did I know, suppressing my feelings only deepened the void within me, creating a lasting ache that I’ve yet to fully heal from.
It took me two years to accept her absence and acknowledge the need to confront my emotions. Instead of allowing myself to grieve, I adopted a robotic facade, tending to others’ needs while neglecting my own. I now realise that emotions demand to be felt; suppressing them only leads to a gradual internal deterioration. For the first year after her passing, I cried myself to sleep every night, undergoing a profound transformation as a person.
One event in particular stands out amidst the tumult of emotions: the night my father called, informing me that my mother had been placed on a ventilator. It was a moment that scarred me emotionally, forcing me into a role I never imagined for myself at such a young age. My teenage years were abruptly transformed as I assumed responsibilities far beyond my years. While I have no regrets, it’s an experience I wouldn’t wish upon anyone.
This loss left me perpetually anxious about losing another loved one. People often debate which type of loss is the most agonizing, but such comparisons are inherently unfair. Losing my mother left me feeling utterly alone, fearing the loss of other family members. However, a comforting thought shared by my best friend provided solace: “Lightning never strikes the same place twice.” While I’m not a staunch believer, I clung to this notion as a source of hope and respite, refusing to entertain the possibility of further tragedy.
The strength I’ve cultivated since then is a testament to the unwavering support of my friends, their mothers who filled the void left by my own, and my family who remained steadfast in their love and support.
Our youth is a pivotal period for self-discovery and growth. Experiencing such a profound loss during these years accelerated my maturation process, leaving little room for youthful experiences.
Nine years have passed since my mother’s passing, yet the void in my heart remains. However, encounters with people who possess even a fraction of her qualities serve as warm reminders of her presence in my life. It took me a long time to acknowledge my own need for grieving. Initially, I focused solely on comforting those around me, oblivious to my own emotional turmoil. It wasn’t until I studied psychology in college that I fully grasped the concept of grieving and coping.
Learning about the five stages of coping—Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance—validated my own experiences, assuring me that healing is a gradual process. Seeking help from a mental health professional was a daunting yet necessary step towards my recovery. Today, I’m in a place of contentment, where I allow myself to feel and prioritise my own well-being. I’ve come to realise that true healing begins with self-acceptance and the willingness to seek help when needed.
In conclusion, my journey of coping with loss has taught me the importance of acknowledging and confronting one’s emotions. While the road to healing may be arduous, it’s paved with self-discovery, resilience, and the unwavering support of loved ones. As cliché as it may sound, the journey to self-improvement begins with a commitment to oneself, for ultimately, we are the architects of our own happiness.