depression – baby g’s diary

in this series: #0.5 | #1 | #2

First written in Jul 2023, with minor edits and commentary in May 2024
(recovery is non-linear, but it will get better)

[May 2024: Enough about silly trivialities like men and love, boring! Let’s yap about ME! Specifically, my psycho ass side. Reviving the mental health logs for my fans!]

Since my first post, I’m delighted to report that things have been looking up for me! I am still waiting to be connected with a psychologist, though (something about waiting time and accessibility of mental health services in Singapore…)

In the meantime, here’s a list of things that have helped me get through a recent depressive episode. They read like notes from a textbook, but there’s nothing quite like a hands-on experience.

Coming to terms with it all. Simply accepting that I did (and maybe always will) have a problem liberated me to focus on addressing it rather than being trapped in the quandary of self-doubt. [May 2024: Still psycho! But so happy.]

Social support and companionship. Many friends reached out after they saw my earlier post. Two aspects stood out — a lack of judgement and an affirmation that they would stand by me. In the weeks since none of them has treated me differently. We went out, played, and gossiped about nonsense as usual. I will always be grateful for them.

My partner has also been enormously supportive (well, he has always been), listening to my issues and being a staunch voice of reason whenever my spirals strike. He’s also been willing to communicate his challenges in his role as a “mental health caregiver”, which has helped us better navigate our difficult periods together. It’s important to care for your caregivers too!

Taking a step back and reappraising. Throughout university, I’ve been compelled to prove myself by achieving “success”. My blog was literally named Gwyn’s Guides to Success (it is now Gwyn’s Playground to mirror my newfound commitment to enjoying life). [May 2024: it is now baby g’s diary. Character development!]

I wanted to get better grades, take up more leadership roles, engage in more extracurriculars, volunteer more, build more connections, write more papers, have my Prof like me more… the list went on. Talk about an unabashedly narrow (but not uncommon) definition of success. Put them together, and lo and behold, you have an amorphous ideal self unattainable by design. Goals became imperatives that incessantly berated me for not being enough regardless of what I did — like having the consciousness of a toxic tiger parent implanted in your brain.
I hit a turning point when my supervisor pointed out that my mental health was taking a toll on my work and that she was genuinely concerned. It was one hell of a “oh, wow, cool” moment (she broke character for me!) I was in such bad shape I could barely function at work, much less recognise that I was floundering. In the following days, I gave more thought to what I wanted (something I hadn’t done in a long time because I was fixated on getting through the motions). Sure, getting a Master’s degree is ~cool~, but I don’t need to destroy myself over it.
The same goes for other projects. At the end of the day, a commitment is something you willingly give your time to… so you don’t need to put in any more effort than you can or want to. To paraphrase a quote from another mental health advocate: you can’t water the grass when your well is dry.
Shoutout to the book Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals on this topic. [May 2024: Sweetheart? Please mail it back to me.] The big idea: life is short, you can’t do everything, so embrace finitude and enjoy the moment, darling. As long as you’ve lived a life you thought was worthwhile, what does it matter what others think? In the grand scheme of things, it really doesn’t. Life goes on with or without you. If a good life to me consists of reading manga and writing a personal blog in my spare time that nobody reads(!), then so be it.

Focusing on the things I love, for me. I’ve gotten back into the habit of reading, and you won’t believe this — writing! Similarly, I’m doing things for myself, because I want to, not only because it brings me to some societally-approved end. Some nights, I play Civilization VI over Discord with my friends and then chomp on garlic cheese prata with my family into the wee hours, ignoring the thought that I have a lot of work to do the next day. LOL. Of course, I’ve had to strike a balance because work never ends, but these little moments have made all the difference.

So get yourself some self-care. Take the time to recharge, and then move onto great things when you’re ready — if you want to, because you don’t have to!

Taking breaks. There’s only so much work you can do in a day. When you pare it down based on energy levels, you’ll realise that most work is not urgent or even important. When I’m stressed, I ask myself: what is the worst that could happen if I mess up this tiny ass task? Or miss a deadline because I’m overwhelmed? So what? It really isn’t worth all that stress. Go take a nap.

Breaking down things. Based on behavioural activation in CBT. Can’t beat your brain? Hack it.

Just be 1% better than yesterday.
Committing to the basics, whether you like it or not. Routines, baby!
I asked a friend over mahjong recently — what is your life purpose? It’s been a long-running preoccupation of mine stemming from the idea that I need to identify some sort of bigger calling to motivate myself to get up every day. He sagely retorted that it’s “not a good question and only stresses you out”.
Instead, focus on one small thing at a time to keep you looking forward to tomorrow. So that’s what I’m doing. It’s the small things… but they add up to make a good life.
- I am eagerly anticipating the premiere of Dune Part 2 this November (okay, it’s been postponed to March 2024) [May 2024: it was better than I could ever imagine.]
- And for Volume 3 of my favourite manga to be released in English [May 2024: I flirted my way into getting a Japanese copy because I couldn’t wait. I’d do it again! <3]
- I am looking forward to the holiday trips I’ll have this year.
- I am excited to master Japanese and get my JLPT N1 certification! Maybe in 5 years, LOL.

[May 2024: Well, so much has happened since. I’m sure 2023 Gwyn would have been proud of 2024 baby g. I definitely am! Hehe. I love you.]

in this series: #0.5 | #1 | #2

A psychologist told me last week that I have signs of major depressive disorder (“clinical depression”). I wasn’t surprised.

The following is a record of my experience seeking help for my mental health and the observations I’ve made along the way – both as a recipient of services and as an advocate. You might find it helpful if you’re curious about mental health or its (challenging) landscape in Singapore. Or you might see a part of yourself reflected herein.

Counsellors, Psychiatrists, and Psychologists

I’ve been putting off getting therapy for years. The thought that maybe I should get help first occurred during my senior undergraduate days. I noticed cyclical episodes where I would nosedive mentally and emotionally after busy periods in the semester. But it was easy to ignore because it wasn’t hampering my academic performance (yet), and I was juggling too many commitments to care. And it was easy to rationalise as part and parcel of living in a hypercompetitive environment – I figured everyone felt the same way, and if they could cope with it, so could I.

But I could only live like that for so long.

I began seeing a counsellor in 2021 at my university’s counselling centre. I used a playful tone when I wrote about it then, but in hindsight, the visits were a sign that my mental health was deteriorating. My first counsellor left “to take a break” for her mental health after three meetings, and I’ve been with my current one since. The counselling helped me manage my emotions following major stressors better, but it’s been less effective at ameliorating the root problem. Suffice it to say that it is unrealistic to expect a university counselling centre to have the resources to cope with issues of greater severity, regardless of how well-intentioned it might be¹.

Later I would be referred to the university psychiatrist, who prescribed me antidepressants to regulate my moods. The best way to describe their effect on me is that I become stupefied. Everything is dulled – my senses, mood, and cognition. She said I would improve if I committed to taking them regularly, but I never managed to do so.

In mid-2022, I zeroed in on a private therapy clinic after encountering their advertisements. I emailed them, going as far as to use a burner email address to maintain anonymity and avoid commitment. That vague reluctance at the back of my mind was justified when they told me their costs were $200/h (but I could receive a “reduced rate of $150” for being a student).

I did not reply.

When I did reply to that email to reinitiate contact with them recently (yes, a year after), however, the new clinic admin (yes, a whole new person) informed me that they were unable to offer me the reduced rate as previously agreed… even though my status as a student remained unchanged. If I wanted the reduced rate, I would have to provide details of my “financial situation” and my family’s.

I was enraged at this turn of events.

Now I acknowledge from a business perspective (à la my partner’s rational, non-depressed response when I started venting to him) that changing your company policy in a year is perfectly legitimate. Very well. What gutted me was how blatantly the event made it evident that money was their primary consideration. I felt compelled to interpret it that way.

Minor segway here onto the complex relationship between therapy and money that I feel is acknowledged occasionally by leaders but only ever dealt with superficially. I wholeheartedly agree that becoming a clinical practitioner is a considerable investment that warrants a high dollar-per-hour return. I would also like to be paid handsomely for my work². But the fact is that $200 (or even $150) an hour is something most people cannot afford, much less students. Not to mention comprehensive treatment plans can be 16 sessions on top of add-ons like assessment packages (I was quoted $2000+). Those are unimaginable numbers.

Clinical psychology speaks of the therapeutic alliance – the partnership between the client and the therapist – as a central element in treatment success. Whatever potential alliances I could have had with this clinic’s therapists were ruptured before they had begun.

And so they lost a client before they had one.

Anger overcoming my inertia, I searched for an alternative and found one through a friend who had sought treatment earlier. This new place’s rates were far more reasonable ($40/h) – perhaps because they were not a private clinic³. I quickly filled in the intake form, reporting what I believe to be concerning scores on well-being and productivity, and waited. They contacted me in a few weeks to schedule an intake interview.

And that brings us back to the beginning.

Sign(s) of the Times

During the interview, I had a ball of a time facing the psychologist over Zoom. Who doesn’t love talking about themselves, especially to a non-judgmental and curious listener? At the end of it all, the psychologist shared his observation kindly, if slightly nervously. I had “signs of major depressive disorder”, with a smattering of anxiety to boot⁴.

My first reaction was to laugh as if he had made an inside joke. After all, there could have been no other outcome.

I felt oddly liberated after. I continued with my day reinvigorated, getting things done and at peace with myself. (It didn’t last.)

At least I can move forward now. I’ve been stuck in place for too long; it’s time to get going.

Meta

I hesitated before posting this. For all I know, this could be a career-ending move… not that it’s begun. But we can leave the stigma expositions for another time.

I wrote that this post might be helpful to some people, but it ultimately doesn’t matter if it is or isn’t. It’s for me and should always have been; this post deserves to exist in its own right, as I do, without the necessity of acknowledgement by others as a reason to be. And so it shall.

It’s good to be here.

Footnotes

¹ The same goes for peer-helping programmes.

² Though as a mental health advocate, I am not (paid at all), and neither are my peers.

³ More deets when I feel like it’s the right time to share about them. Or not. See how.

⁴ His observation is not an official diagnosis because he’s not a psychiatrist. For all intents and purposes, my condition only allegedly exists.