A deep void

MY FIGHT WITH DEPRESSION

Remember Stanley Kubrick's 'The Shining'? Dick Halloran, the character of the chief hotel chef played by Scatman Crothers states matter of factly to Danny Torrance (Jack's son) something to the effect that bad memories are like burnt toast. They leave behind marks..... While I've always acknowledged 'The Shining' as a masterpiece in the history of cinema, and a master's adaptation by Stanley Kubrick; I didn't especially pay attention to this gem of philosophy. The realization, when did come; hit me with an unbelievable force in the gut, and I crumpled down. This is the story of my falling down and my getting up.

It was Aug '24, 2014, and I was into my fifth month of pregnancy. My husband and I had just finished watching 'What Dreams may come' with Robin Williams playing the male lead. For those who haven't watched the movie yet, it's an adaptation of yet another novel by the same name written by Richard Matheson, replete with the concept of love conquering life and death, heaven and hell. We went to sleep at around 02:00 a.m. happily discussing the movie, our lives and all things normal, absolutely normal in every conceivable way.

I suddenly woke up at around 04:00 a.m. It had become an absolute routine for me to go to the toilet during a night's sleep since quite some time, and this day was no exception. As I came back and fell back into the bed, a strange and hitherto unfelt experience dawned upon me. I felt as if I was going to suffocate to death, because something, some very beautiful thing had forever vanished from my life. If I had been dreaming something, I am yet unable to recall what the dream was; but the feeling that persisted was that I was drawn up an endless staircase of light, and I began to feel scared (really scared, mind it!) that if I fell asleep, I would never return here. This was a sort of confused, awkward and queasy feeling, that I didn't understand. I woke up my husband from sleep, maybe half an hour later. I was feeling claustrophobic and agoraphobic at the same time. Nothing could console me, and by the time my husband woke up, I was crying helplessly. The first thing he did was to call my parents. My father and mother were of the opinion that this was a passing incident, and that I should read some amusing story, or watch some hilarious film; and the whole episode would end there. I tried this suggestion, but the stifling feeling gradually gave rise to fear. A primordial fear, that I couldn't comprehend at first.

I fell asleep at around 07:00 a.m. in the morning, trying to convince myself that sleep, which had till then proved to be immensely therapeutic for me, was going to work wonders this time around too. What I managed to catch was a wisp of a nap, full of confusing dreams. But this time when I woke up, I could smell, touch, taste, hear and see the fear. It was the most basic of all fears, the fear of death. Not about me, but for everyone around me. Suddenly I felt that everyone around me was living in an oblivion actually without contemplating that we actually know nothing about death, and whatever happens after that. My life suddenly felt empty. Everything that I did felt like a faraway episode, which was being rolled onto some obscure screen. Everywhere I looked, I saw everything was temporary; the home we had so lovingly built, the family we had so lovingly called ourselves, each piece of furniture we had so carefully chosen, everything seemed meaningless, in the greater sense. Living itself seemed the most meaningless thing to do. I used to ask everyone, if the death of one of the spouses ends every dream they had so thoughtfully assimilated and shaped in the form of their lives, their children and their home....

I began to descend into an endless spiral of severe depressive anxiety, and before long I had touched the nadir. Everyone tried to console me and assure me that it was another worst case of ante-partum depression, and I would soon tide over it as soon as my hormonal levels steadied. I myself tried to calm myself that it would be over tomorrow, but that tomorrow never came. Each night I felt so afraid to go to sleep that it was beginning to show upon my health. I had stopped eating, sleeping and caring for myself. Every second, I despised my very existence, yet each passing moment posed a fear in my mind that I had wasted another precious second of my existence. I was afraid that once my loved ones died, I would never see them again. I began to worry about my pets, my parents, my brother, my in-laws, my husband, my friends, my colleagues, even my general acquaintances! I was being driven insane by the constant fear, the constant chill in my spine, that never went away.

I soon was unable to work and had to come to my parents' place on an indefinite leave of absence. Medications, though forbidden through pregnancy, had to be taken. Every single good thing in my life had simply vanished. It was then that I found out that there's always something that God gives to everyone so that the person is able to cope with the situation; in my case, it was spirituality. I began reading the Shrimadbhagvadgeeta, the Ramkrishna Kathamritam and every spiritual writing I could come across. I began studying about paranormal. I began going through NDEs experienced by a lot of people. I even delved into the depths of astro-physics and nuclear physics. I had to find a meaning to this endless cycle of nature, the generations upon generations of living beings coming and going..... It was my ultimate and most desperate attempt at clinging on to the last vestiges of sanity.

Day after day, I kept on telling myself that there's nothing to fear about death. We have been taught by the society that we ought to feel sorrow at death, because the knowledge that had been bestowed upon us many thousands of years ago, had somehow become obscure amid all our orthodox scientific jargon. I kept on telling myself that we all meet out loved ones on the other side too. Day after day, I felt drawn towards tranquilisers, but I kept telling myself, "No, my quota is just ten throughout my pregnancy, no more". I had to find of other avenues, that would help me be normal again, and if it meant finding an answer to the meaning of life; I had to go on......

I started watching all the spiritual channels on television, began reading everything that came my way, I even began contacting mediums, spiritual gurus and life coaches. Then the comprehension dawned upon me that nothing happens of my own free will. The only thing that probably ever happened of my own free will was when my soul decided to be born into the material world into my body, and to my parents. We are always conditioned in every possible way, since we have already been conditioned during our incarnation in this material world. The reason people take births is that the soul needs to learn certain things through painful experiences, which are not available on the other side. The cost of learning is being born again and again, and dying again and again. We certainly do meet with everyone who matters to us, because it was their and our conscious decision to be born so that we would be near and dear to one another during the lifetime. Whatever skeptics may say, I'm convinced that my understanding of the ancient knowledge is true. Nothing happens without a cause, so why would people be born on this planet without one? We are just too myopic to look at the bigger picture. I am actually not the body. It is just the cover that houses me, i.e. my soul. One day, I shall be free again, and it shall be my decision if I would like to re-incarnate. What I said about bad memories is true though.... The mark left upon my psyche by the bout of extreme anxiety and depression has been a lesson for me. It has made me wiser and more contemplative. So, everthing happens for some reason.