Epidemic of Depression

When I was 20 years old and in my first year of college, I tried to kill myself. It was the culmination of many years of depression which I didn’t even know I had. My trigger (every depressed person has one) was my father. He was like most parents of those days and was not very expressive. Instead, he would scold and shout and blame. I guess he also had a lot going on in his life as well.

Although my father only drank once every few months, that one time would compensate for all his sober days. That particular period however, he was drinking every day. I was extremely unhappy and felt that there was nothing in life for me. On the material day, I promised myself that if my father made noise at me, I would commit suicide.

I had spent much time planning and considering different methods. Eventually I settled down on my father’s hypertension medication. He used to have a whole pharmacy of drugs for his condition. I settled on Aldomet which worked by slowing the heartbeat rate (Thanks to his lessons I knew a lot about his drugs). He had recently restocked and there was an unopened bottle of 30 tablets of Aldomet (A full month’s prescription).

On that day, my father drove into the compound at around 8 p.m. I could hear our dogs whinnying as they usually did so that he could throw them the bones he always brought with him. He parked and did not waste any time in calling for me and starting with his rantings. Unlike before when I would lose my temper and pant in rage, this time I was cool. It would be the last time I had to listen to this (or so I told myself). As soon as he finished, I rushed to his bedroom, picked ‘my Aldomets’, and went outside to where we had a water tank. I opened the bottle and poured the contents into my mouth. I squatted at the tap and washed them down with a draught of water. I almost choked to death (ironically so).

All I had to do now was to wait for death, I had done my part. I went to bed (I used to have a room outside the main house like all boys of my age in those days). I bolted the door and slept. It was a fitful night and I had to relieve myself several times before morning. I became extremely light headed and dizzy but there was no pain. By the time morning came, I was barely conscious and could not see anything, I was completely blind.

I used to have a cow those days and it was milking time. When my father heard the cow mooing due to the milk and I was nowhere in sight, he came to wake me up. His knock on my door and the calling out of my name sounded like it was miles away. I tried to stand but couldn’t. I crawled on all fours and unbolted the door. I then collapsed in a heap at his feet.

That morning, my uncle and his wife had come to see my father about some business dealings that they had. It was my uncle who drove me to hospital in his car because my father was too distraught. When we arrived at the hospital, I could not stand on my feet and by now I was slipping in and out of consciousness. From what I got later from my Dad, the two doctors attending to me were Luos and they mentioned in their language that I was “gone”. My Dad could understand Luo and that is the only reason he knew what they said.

Apparently, the Aldomets had slowed my heart until it stopped. There was no heartbeat. It was true I had gone. My father was not a serious Christian but at that moment he started to pray. God heard his prayers and my pulse returned albeit weakly. To cut a long story short, I didn’t die or else I would not be here telling the story. I however remained in hospital for a week receiving drips and counselling.

Turning Point

My suicide attempt was the turning point in my life. I became more open and expressive. I decided to love myself more. I started taking care of my needs first. My relationship with my father also changed drastically. We could now relate on a more open and friendly level. My father became my friend and I became his confidante until his passing many years later.

Widespread Depression

Perhaps it is due to my own encounter with severe depression that I am more sensitive to depressed people. I was recently saddened to hear the story of the girl who committed suicide after her love texts were read publicly by a teacher. The worrying thing about this scenario is that teachers are supposed to be knowledgeable in basic counselling and yet they are the ones aggravating the situation.

Cry for Help

Many people and especially the youth are crying for help. Unfortunately, no one is listening because everybody is buried deep in his or her own problems. This cry for help is muffled because people do not want to call attention to themselves. Instead they want to fit in and conform to the generally accepted norms.

More Information, Less Communication

We are living in the information age and as such, you can get to know about anything you are curious about. The gadgets we are using today are capable of storing and transmitting rapidly increasing amounts of information. With all this information however, there is less communication. Feelings are left unexpressed while words about all sorts of subjects continue flying around.

More Pals and Associates, Less Friends

What we refer to as friends on social media are often not real friends. They are just pals who we have no way of opening ourselves up to. It is possible to have thousands of friends on Facebook and not have a single true friend who you can actually talk with when you have an emotional problem.

Not as Strong as we think we are

A lot of us want to appear macho but underneath, there is only turmoil. Depression is no longer just a condition in isolated people. It is a serious problem that appears to have reached endemic levels.

P.S. I like that campaign that says, “Fungua Roho, Ongea” (Open your heart and talk). It is the only way we can slay the animal of depression.