Spring Cleaning: Kehlani and Stigma

     About two weeks ago I deactivated my Facebook for 5 days and thought about the value of my life. During the course of these five days I had minimal contact with people that I got used to talking to everyday. Conversations that would often distract me from my depression were no longer there, and it felt like I was completely alone. Despite still having a way to contact people, despite still showing up to classes, and despite knowing that I could come back to Facebook at anytime, breaking that immediate connection made me feel isolated. This is not a post about the dangers of relying on social media or the addictive nature of the internet, this is just a simple reflection on my experience. Somehow that isolation made me feel like I have been able to find some sort of happiness that has been missing this entire school year.

     People often view depression as a line in the sand rather than an ever-balancing scale. To those without depression, imagine this: you have a voice in your head constantly telling you negative things about yourself, convincing you that you are worth less than you actually are. Simple enough yes? Now add this to the equation, the voice is feeding you negative lies, and people who try to help you but don't understand depression often just react by assuming the voice is telling you to commit suicide. Suicide. Suicide is such a weighted term in our age. It can mean anything from sadness to desperation to freedom all in the same breath, and yet people treat it as though it is always the end result of depression. As if those who are depressed will only ever be “okay” or in a state where they want to kill themselves, completely ignoring the in betweens that happen on a daily basis. I am no expert on depression, I just go through it. I am no expert on suicide either, but I have had those thoughts too. It does not change the fact that I am still a fully functional human being who deserves to be treated as such.It is socially acceptable to treat people with mental illnesses like they are ticking time bombs that need to be defused, ignoring all of that person's autonomy and agency. It is as if we have become a sub-group of people that either need to be changed 100% until we are normal or put in a box because we are perceived as a constant threat to ourselves. I believe there is a much bigger percentage of people in this country, and in this world, that battle depression. Yet it is considered a sign of weakness to admit it so a lot of people will keep it under wraps. The reality is that life is hard, and I refuse to believe with all the people out there questioning their life goals and trying to find their place in the world that depression does not fit more into that equation. In fact I would go on a limb and say the capacity for depression is built into our DNA, as it is just the byproduct of having the ability to think about our words and actions. Depression is a side effect of being conscious.

     So at the end of my hiatus from Facebook I only really had one thing on my mind: I wanted to live. It has been tough for me since my grandma's passing in November, and I am not proud to admit that I have been losing control of my sanity slowly over last couple of months. Making a mess of friendships, compromising my grades, and even being a sub-par leader to my dance team. It would go up and down but it always felt like a losing battle. And this is Where Kehlani comes in. For those of you who do not know, Kehlani is an amazing R&B singer/dancer from Oakland (Basically my backyard) California. She has an amazing story of surviving a terrible childhood and dangerous teenage years just to get to a place where should could make music and learn to love people again. So I look up to here in a lot of ways. Earlier this week however she tried to commit suicide, and it broke my heart. I have never met this person, but I have felt her pain through her music, and I feel like she and I are a part of some secret twisted club that we never asked to be let into. So it hurt, it hurt seeing the picture of her in the hospital, it hurt to read her post that just as easily been my explanation after a suicide attempt, and most of all it hurt to see that people were treating this as PR stunt and not addressing the issue. When people of high enough caliber try or succeed at suicide, the conversation always stirs toward what was happening in their lives in recent months or days that could have caused this “rash” decision. Kehlani’s case was no exception. Within minutes rumors were flying out that she was just doing this out of guilt when that really should not be the focal point of the story. Recently she had been given a bunch of flack for a situation involving her and some dudes in the music and sports world, and people were quick to jump at that being the reason she would commit such an “unthinkable” act. But they don’t ever dig deeper. What they don't talk about is that these people have been fighting a war in their own minds for years, with no reinforcements or aid from anyone but themselves. In most cases suicide is not a spur of the moment decision, it is the compilation of years worth of pain and personal torment because not enough people are taught to take your illness seriously.

     So with Kehlani in the news I started to think once again about my own life and what kind of person I want to be. I ask myself that question every week and always seem to get some kind of different answer. However this time my answer felt different, it was still the same generic “I want to make a difference” motto that I tell myself when I need a pick me up, but this time it hit my ears differently. If Kehlani died it would be a waste of love and talent, and just another nail in the coffin of mental illness stigma, but she is alive. I am alive. I actually have a chance to do something about this illness I have such a love hate relationship with. This depression has given me so much to write about, provided a lens that helps me see other people's struggles and empathize, and it has motivated me to want to do better. Depression is the hardest thing I have ever had to come to terms with, admitting that there are days where I am not strong enough to get out of bed or even summon my will to live. Yet this is why I need to keep marching forward. I want to live long enough to meet Kehlani and tell her that we can make this right, to meet the next Kehlani and tell her the same thing, and I want to mean it when I say it.

     I helped put together an amazing dance show this weekend, I am performing multiple songs and poems at an open mic this friday, and I am going to demolish the rest of this semester academically. We are never taught to be our biggest fans. Self esteem is bad for marketing so we are slowly taught not to believe in ourselves. Some people are better at managing that than others, but until recently I had no faith in anything I did. Spending 5 days by yourself really teaches you a lot about what you cannot stand about who you are. So I had put a halt on the self-deprecation and pity because without my connections on Facebook encouraging me I had to listen to me putting myself down for days. Eventually I just grew tired of that. I deserve a shot at a long life, just like any other decent person does, and I deserve to be treated like a person when I get depressed or suicidal. I have my own thoughts and actions, so the stigmas the surround me need to find some other place to set up shop. You will not be okay every day. There will be days when it hurts to be alive and not existing seems like the more favorable outcome. Those days are not you. They are not the smiles that you produce or the memories you make. They are not the fire that drives you to be what you want to be. They are not the love you get from friends and family, and they are not the love you should give yourself. We are not at the mercy of whatever the negative voices tell us. We are not the burden society would like to treat us as. We belong in the same category as some of the most brilliant people throughout our history. We have survived people throwing us in asylums, trying to exorcise us, or just plain being ignored because people were too scared of seeing their own depression in us. We do belong in a secret twisted club, but that club is ours and we own it, it does not own us. To anyone fighting depression I say keep swinging, we are stronger than our lowest days and keep believing that until it is embedded in your bones. Life itself is just an existence, you are the one who makes it worth living, never forget that.

     My Name is Ezekiel Starling, there are days when I have wanted to die and days where I want to live. Today I want to live, and that is all that matters.