"More than medications and therapy, it is love that has often come to my rescue"

⚠trigger warning: this testimony includes references to sensitive topics, such as psychiatric disorders and suicidal thoughts. Proceed at your own risk⚠

My battle with mental health started at the age of 14 when I was sent to prepare for my engineering entrance exams. In a small Indian city, more than 100000 students were crammed together all fighting to get into into one of the most competitive universities in the world with an acceptance rate of less than 1%.

The culture was built on survival of the fittest. We weren't provided with any psychological support. My family wasn’t much of a support as they believed I just needed to work harder. Unable to handle the pressure, I soon started having anxiety attacks.

During my bachelors, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and was told that I would have to be on meds forever, along with therapy. I felt my diagnosis would help me manage my mental health struggles but that wasn’t the case.

I kept moving from provider to provider in the hopes of finding a definitive cure that would make me “normal”. However, I soon realized, there isn’t any cure. It's a process. Medications require trial and error and need constant adjustments.

There are good days and there are bad days. There are days where you stare into the abyss and question your every single life choices. Everyone looks mean and stupid. There are days where the only thing your mind is the thought of killing yourself, to end it once and for all. On good days, I feel like the world is full of beauty and I see good in everyone. I feel creative and write 10 poems in a week.

"The answer was building a support system of people who could help me when I couldn't help myself."

These swings often come without warning and can hit at any random time. With our current structure of mental health provision, where you interact with providers once every few weeks, it isn’t suitable to help you navigate through these challenges.

But soon, I found the answer was building a support system of people who could help me when I couldn't help myself. Over the years, my support system - which is mainly made up of my friends - has helped me through many ups and downs. They have helped me through my journey of exploring gender and sexual identity. After I moved to Paris, I found queer friends and allies who helped me come to terms with my trauma of growing up in a conservative community.

During my latest breakdown, the thoughts of hurting myself popped up again. I didn’t do it, because there were 3 texts on my phone, from my friends asking me if I was okay. It was as if I had inadvertently applied for a free hug subscription. Warm food just appeared on my plate. My therapist went out of her way to talk to me on the phone. I was invited to group study sessions, where where we'd take each other's phones away. Professors gave extensions on the assignments. My bosses didn’t raise hell for not sticking to the timeline.

With that assurance, I could let my guard down. I cried and indulged in self-loathing. I ate the cheapest frozen pizza. But I was safe. I was given time to heal. This was in stark contrast to many of my previous breakdowns where I was chided for not meeting deadlines and I didn’t have a group of friends. Despite being on medications and having psychiatric support, breakdowns led to debilitating panic attacks.

When we talk about mental health management in media and health policy, focus is mostly on therapy and psychiatrist support. Majority of mental health companies focus on providing tech-based therapeutic solutions. We are told every anomaly in our behavior can be explained through behavioral theories and that you can be made normal again if you take a carefully constructed chemical composition.

I am no longer convinced of it. I feel there is a need to encourage solutions beyond that. We need to create systems that make accommodations for people suffering from mental health without making them feel guilty. I have realized, through my experience, that more than medications and therapy, it was love that has often come to my rescue. It is the supportive structures that calm me down. It is the gentleness that heals me and I believe everyone deserves that.