Wed, Mar 23, 2011
The New Paper
TWO strangers, worlds apart, but they both suffer from the
same debilitating illness of depression.
They say their struggle with depression is one that few can
understand.
And one of their biggest fears is that when their caregivers
die, they will be alone.
Janice (not her real name), 28, was diagnosed with depression
two years ago, while Dylan (not his real name), who is in his late
30s, was diagnosed more than 15 years ago.
Both found their present jobs through the Institute of Mental
Health's (IMH) Job Club.
Janice is a receptionist and Dylan is a shop assistant.
Both their employers are aware of their conditions.
In Parliament on March 4, Health Minister Khaw Boon Wan said the
stigma surrounding mental illness needs to be reduced, "so that the
patients can be more confident to come forward for treatment and
after receiving treatment, to integrate back into the
community".
While Janice and Dylan try to integrate into the community, both
say it remains hard for them to hold onto their jobs because it's a
constant battle juggling their mental illness and the demands of
work.
Janice was too shy to meet with this reporter, and agreed only
to an interview over the phone.
But she had a happy, girlish voice and chuckled often during the
interview.
Ten years ago, she was an "average teenager" studying at one of
the "top six" junior colleges here, she said.
She was introverted but had friends, and even a best friend.
Most of her friends, including her best friend, went on to
polytechnics or worked after their A levels, so Janice went to
university alone.
"I was very, very lonely and I had no friends. I constantly felt
ostracised by my peers in university too," she recalled.
She admitted that at that time, she was already prone to being
"over-sensitive".
She also had problems with her mother.
"She's not the affectionate type and I could never get any
verbal affirmation from her. She never listened to how I felt," she
said.
"I decided that unless I did something drastic, she would not
care about me. I decided to rebel."
A few weeks into university, she dropped out. That
decision "forced" her mother to pay more attention to
her.
At her mother's insistence, she found an administrative job in a
factory.
But once again, things took a turn for the worse because she
couldn't get along with her boss.
She left the job after three weeks, cooped herself up at home
for a year and "did nothing".
Her temper also went from bad to worse, she added.
"I not only threw tantrums, I threw things. I knew I needed
help, but I was in denial. I felt that going to a psychiatrist
meant something was really wrong with me," she said.
During this period, Janice also lost her best friend, who could
not understand her mood swings.
They have not spoken since.
While she had consulted private psychiatrists before, at 26,
Janice decided to go to IMH, where she was diagnosed with
depression.
Since then, she has been on medication and sees her doctor at
IMH once every month.
Although she feels better these days, she said medication does
not make her "self-esteem issue go away".
Janice has had four jobs so far, but she leaves when she cannot
cope with the stress.
She has been in her current job for the past three months, but
hopes to find a full-time job soon.
She still finds it tough adapting to changes in her workplaces,
but said: "When I have a job, I feel I have purpose in life.
Without one, I feel inferior, useless, and have low
self-esteem."
That sentiment is also echoed by Dylan. When he's not working,
negative thoughts surge into his mind.
"I just keep thinking, 'Why, why, why. Why am I like that?' So I
need to keep myself occupied," he said.
Dylan said he has been suffering from low self-esteem since
young, but didn't know it was an issue as he did not have problems
with his studies.
It was only during national service that something in him
snapped.
"I don't know why, but I just could not take the stress in the
army," he said.
His mother took him to a psychiatrist and he was diagnosed with
depression.
Even though he has a business degree, Dylan says work poses a
huge challenge for him and stress would trigger his depression.
His condition became so bad that in 2006, he was warded
briefly at IMH for having suicidal thoughts.
He has since improved and sees his doctor at IMH once every two
to three months. But he is unsure whether he will ever fully
recover.
"I don't have that much hope. I've been dealing with this for so
long. I've never really been happy before," he said.
Dylan hardly goes anywhere else apart from work, preferring to
stay at home to watch TV.
But watching drama serials sometimes triggers his condition,
especially if the show features "useless sons".
"I feel like I'm a useless son. My mother implies that about me
too," he said.
His mother, who is in her 70s, works part-time in a funeral
procession band. They live in a terrace house in the east.
Dylan's father died when Dylan was 17 years old.
Said Dylan: "When she goes, I'll be alone. I might even end up
dying without people realising until there's a bad smell in the
house."
In the meantime, he's trying to save up to buy a new computer,
so he can set up Facebook and Twitter accounts and make more
friends.
He hopes to find a girlfriend in the future, though he lamented:
"I've no money, who would want me?"
Agrees Janice: "It's hard to find someone who will accept me.
But it would be nice have someone love me the way I am."
For now, she's content going out with her mother and
relatives.
She said: "All these years, I have not socialised with anyone
else. I'm not in touch with people I've met at work either."
Janice wants to find a stable job so she can start giving back
to her parents.
"I don't want them to worry about me anymore. I want to
rediscover myself.
"For a long time, my mind has been a blank. I'm trying now to
learn what it means to be me," she said.
This article was first published in The New Paper.
