Anxiety, Mental Health, Pressure, Reality, Stigma, Stress

The Epitome of Self-Deprecation

It’s difficult when the person you despise most is yourself. I find myself to be someone who always sees the good in everyone around me, but I fail to do so when I reflect on myself. People often compliment me, but the voice in my head tells me, “It’s not true, they’re just being nice”. There was a time in my life where I used to outwardly reject compliments thrown my way, but I soon realised that people often misunderstood me for being rude when that was not my intention at all. So now, out of politeness and to meet others’ expectations, I smile and say “Thank you” in response to any compliment I get, even though I don’t believe it.

I’ve pretty much always had a very low self-esteem. It’s because I’m a perfectionist and achieving my incredibly unrealistic goals is the only thing that gives me a sense of accomplishment. I always find faults in myself and always find targets to work towards. I subconsciously compare myself to others and convince myself that I am not good enough. The worst thing is, however, I also tend to criticise things about myself that I can’t modify. And that is even more demoralising for me.

I never really questioned my perfectionism until a few years ago when I started medical school and it became almost impossible for me to be the best at everything. All of a sudden, I was not achieving the goals I was setting for myself and I started believing that I was hopelessly not good enough. Despite the fact that I was studying at one of the best medical schools in the world, I was not good enough. I was not smart enough. And I felt increasingly worthless.

Aside from academics, I have always had issues with my image, from my looks to my weight. And especially at a stage when I thought I was failing academically, these insecurities became even more pronounced in myself. I was scared of looking at my reflection in the mirror. I started using a lot of make-up to cover up my ‘imperfections’. I tried to lose weight, but that’s something that has been and is still a challenge for me. With my depression, my appetite is all over the place. When things get really bad to suicidal point, I neglect food completely. When my mood picks up a little again and to cheer myself up, I tend to binge eat. And that’s why my weight doesn’t budge despite my gym efforts and diet plans. To make things more complicated, I have a very common condition called PCOS which makes it difficult for me to lose weight, and a few of the tablets I take for some other health problems also make it harder for me to lose weight. Being depressed also means that my motivation is at its lowest and without seeing any results after putting in the effort, I feel more demotivated and give up.

I realise however that it’s not really these materialistic things that matter. I can’t help how I look, and perfectionism is a bit of a tall order. But I feel as if I have believed in it for so long, I’ve wired it into my brain that I am just not good enough, or worthy. Some days, I wake up and I encourage myself to feel confident in my own body. It works, but it wears off very quickly. It’s a work in progress and maybe one day, I’ll really be confident. I love everybody else, but I have trouble loving myself.

I know that there are a lot of people who feel the same as I do. There are a lot of factors that contribute towards this, namely environmental influences, parenting and societal pressures. But I do believe that we are not stuck in this way of thinking about ourselves. We are each of us unique and beautiful, albeit not in the ways modelled by society per se, and we have every right to love ourselves for who we are. It’s time we took a step back and cut ourselves some slack, because we most definitely deserve it.

 

Anxiety, Mental Health, Reality, Stigma, Stress

“Are you ok?”

Often we can become so caught up in our own lives that we forget to pay attention to the people around us. Moreover, we have transitioned into a society where awkwardness predominates most situations and prevents us from connecting to those around us. It even hinders us from doing nice things for people, because we are unsure whether we would be acting within social norms. But maybe we shouldn’t worry so much about fitting into social norms especially when it comes to doing good for others.

A couple of weeks ago, as I was making my daily commute to university on the tube, I noticed that a woman sitting opposite me was crying silently, wiping her tears on the end of her sleeve. She was trying so hard to make it look inconspicuous that I genuinely wondered whether she was crying or if she was suffering from some sort of allergy causing increased tear secretion. Once I had mentally confirmed that she was crying, I started becoming concerned and was tempted to ask her if she was ok. On the one hand, it is highly unusual for two strangers to start talking in London and striking up a conversation may make the situation uncomfortable, but on the other hand, I really wanted to make sure she was ok and let her know that she is not alone in the problems she is dealing with. I took the next few minutes deliberating over what would be the most appropriate thing to do. I tried catching her eye contact but she started to close her eyes in an attempt to have a quick nap.

A few stops passed and she opened her eyes, so I took the opportunity to say, “Excuse me, are you ok?” She seemed startled by my question, and gave a flustered response – “Yes, sorry, yes, I’m fine, I’ve just had a bad day.” I continued to ask her whether she wanted some water or a tissue to which she said “no, thank you” as she already had some. I thought I’d give her some passing advice and said, with regards to her crying, “It’s better to let it all out than keep it bottled up.” She smiled at me in gratitude and for the remaining stops of her journey on the tube that morning, she kept on smiling to herself and had stopped crying. She thanked me shyly before she left the train.

What this situation made me realise was that sometimes, it’s enough to just let people know you care by asking them if they are ok. It’s a simple and very overlooked question because it’s become so integrated in our casual greeting, “Hey, morning, you ok?” to which the automatic response is “yeah I’m good thanks”. But asked in the right way, it can show the other person how much you really care. In this case, I feel that me asking the woman about how she is when I was nothing but a stranger to her, made a difference. I know that, were it reversed, I would have appreciated somebody else’s concern incredibly. It just gives you the hope that you are not alone and there is help to be offered. It also helps us humanise the busy commuters around us, who we subconsciously ignore in our morning hustle, and if everyone did the same, we would all be more connected as a population.

There have been a few times when I have ended up breaking down on the tube and on the bus, crying uncontrollably. Despite the people around me noticing, nobody asked me if I was ok. I don’t blame them because we often fear the shame of being awkward so much that we forget to do what is more important. When I was having a breakdown, a simple “are you ok?” may have made a lot of difference. Sometimes I forget that I am not alone, sometimes I feel as though there is no one to help me. But a simple reassurance from a fellow human being is enough to make a difference.

So let’s make that change. Overcome the awkwardness, and ask that question.