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While I write this, I find myself to be out of that old yellow-stained dark room where I experienced my first depressive experience. I find myself out of the streets where I walked alone thinking about ending my life. I find myself in a quiet room, not lonely, but solitary with a beautiful touch of accompaniment by my beautiful partner who has loved me tenderly throughout the tumultuous experience. I am glad to have had some guidance around me to get myself out of the rut of suicidal thoughts. My parents looked after me, my mother reminded me that love can heal any hurt in the body. She healed me with her cuddle, her humming, her chai (mum’s chai is the best!) and her gentle nudges to my back. I felt supported after so long. What I realized in that experience was, that people who truly care about you, will look after you. But they may not be able to see that you are in pain, especially if such knowledge about mental health challenges is not there. I knew something felt wrong but I did not know how to communicate it. My folks knew that I was close to death, and they held on to me. I feel it is important to give your friends and family a try, at least just a nudge to see how they respond to your emotions as you go through difficult emotions. 

There are times I don’t express many emotions I feel because I know the capacity of understanding that my loved ones have. And I think it is okay for people to have different levels of capacity. I think what’s more important is to know that it is worth reaching out for help, because we may underestimate someone’s care, or we may be blinded to it, or more so, looking in the wrong direction. Help is out there.

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