I’m almost at the halfway point for my internship, so that makes this blog post a special one! It also means that it’s time for me to talk about an important topic regarding my time here, but that I have put off in favor of recounting happier stories – who wants to read a blog post that isn’t fun? Regardless, I’ve been giving some serious thought as to how I want to approach this, but given the state of events back home (and here for that matter), beating around the bush seems counterproductive.
So, with that being said, our topic for today is mental health, and our post begins with a confession: I have depression!
Major Depressive Disorder to be specific. I was diagnosed when I was in grade school and have struggled with it for most of my life. I’ve had to work on myself a lot to be able to talk about it this freely, but in times like these (you know… “unprecedented” ones) I feel it is unfair to both my readers and myself if I don’t talk about it.
This week in particular has felt rather slow now that the workshops are mostly finished, which means I’ve had more time to myself to spend worrying over pointless things – an incredibly exciting hobby, I know. With our exhibition flyer finished and most of our pots made, the artists decided to take a trip to Tokyo for a couple days this week, leaving me and Luisa by ourselves for a period of time. We’d worked hard over the course of the last few weeks, we’d earned the time off. But my brain decided to use my time off for other reasons, and instead of biking around town or trying different shops or restaurants, I stayed in my room nursing a nasty anxiety induced stomachache for the majority of the day. This is not an uncommon occurrence for me, but I’d hoped I’d have the energy to push through it regardless.
One of the biggest things I’ve focused on since getting here was appearing “professional.” I wanted my internship supervisor and the other artists to see me as capable and reliable despite turning 21 not four months ago. I am one of the youngest here, and I want to prove that I can do what needs to be done with a degree of efficiency and quality that will prove I am just as much of an adult as the rest of the people here. That means forcibly putting my mental illness to the side, or “masking” my symptoms as others call it.
And that is hard.
When I keep this up for too long it will eventually let itself out like it did when everybody left for their trip, and I will deal with the repressed symptoms by myself where it won’t inconvenience anyone else.
But here’s the kicker: Despite how hard I work to mask my symptoms, I’m never going to be perfect. Things will slip out every now and then and trip me up, but it’s hard to determine if my shortcomings are due to lack of experience, or my own brain trying to sabotage me. What’s worse is that I often times forget that I have a brain that actively tries to sabotage me, leaving me frustrated, disappointed, and confused as to why I feel as though I’m falling behind. Combine all that with the current state of events around the world and back in my home country and it’s impossible to tell what’s what. “Am I reacting normally to very bad news, or is my mental illness creeping up on me again?” Answer: I don’t know! And that’s the most frustrating feeling in the world.
But the biggest struggle I’ve had with this has been convincing myself that it’s normal. Correction: my normal. Mental illness is tricky to treat, and mine has been no exception. “Expect something to go wrong, and when it inevitably does, you won’t be caught off guard.” I admit, I’m tired of my “normal” being dealing with the inevitable things going wrong all the time, but that’s as much a part of me as any other characteristic I have. Even if it were possible to, I couldn’t remove it without fundamentally changing who I am. I can only work around it, and do my best. And sometimes my best is pretty flipping good when I have the right tools.
So this is my confession. I haven’t talked to the other artists or my supervisor about this since it’s still rather personal, but the added layer of security that a screen gives me is enough that I feel content to post this here, where others can see it and understand. I have depression. It is an unchangeable fact about who I am, and it can and does change how I interact with this internship. It makes my life a bit harder and a lot more frustrating than others, and by admitting that out loud I am helping myself to reconcile with that fact. I have depression, and that is okay! My hope is that other students will see this too and not talk themselves out of pursuing their goals due to fear of self-sabotage. I’ve waited years to get a chance like this, and while my mental illness is a factor in how I operate, it doesn’t have to be a hindrance.
And if anything, it’ll give me one hell of a perspective to write from for my next post!
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