“I’ve worked with the Railways for over two decades, and in all that time, I never told any of my colleagues that I had schizophrenia. I told them it was depression; they understand that,” says Nakul*, who has since retired. His face is stony and apprehensive, but his words point to two truths.
First, that under the influence of activists, actors and politicians, depression has become a topic for drawing-room conversation, and consequently, much easier for people to understand, respect and support the people dealing with it. On the other hand — and this is the second truth — the image of schizophrenia in public consciousness remains vague.
- According to the WHO, schizophrenia is a severe mental disorder, characterised by disruptions in thinking, affecting language, perception, and the sense of self. It often includes psychotic experiences, such as hearing voices or delusions. It is caused by a combination of interactions between genes, environmental triggers and imbalance in chemical reactions of the brain.
“It’s not like cancer, where you can see the cells through a microscope, or like a visually-impaired person, who you can see has trouble crossing the road,” says Reshma Valliappan, founder of The Red Door, an initiative that uses creativity for psychosocial counselling and creates dialogue through social media. The personal nature of the condition — it affects each individual in a different way — means that it can’t be easily understood by those that don’t have it. “It’s like having an imaginary friend that nobody else knows about,” she quips.
On the one hand, romanticising...
Eighteen years after it was released, A Beautiful Mind , and its protagonist, mathematician John Nash Jr, still remain one of the only glimpses into what it’s like having schizophrenia: A genius mind, caught in its own trappings.
“It’s not all that romantic,” says Rajesh*, a molecular biologist. Rajesh had his first episode when he was in the US, working on cancer research. “I had a hard time balancing work and life, I had to take counselling at four different centres to show that I am still fit to work,” he says. With a short bark of laughter, he comments on the irony of getting diagnosed with one condition while furthering research in another. “The disadvantage of being a researcher was that I could actually rationalise my thought processes. There was a time I was convinced that I had been selected by the US Government to reverse ageing. The thing is, being in the field, I knew how advanced molecular science has become, that it didn’t seem all that illogical,” he says.
“Mass media does romanticise mental conditions,” agrees Raghav*, a Columbia University graduate, who will soon be pursuing a PhD in Computer Science and Mathematics. “They only show the hallucinations when they make for interesting stories. They don’t show the hardships that we have to go through. You have to try three or four medications until you land the right one,” he says. Yet others had to battle with the assumption that mental health conditions are an upper-class disease. “When I phoned my paternal aunt from a mental hospital I was put in, in a London countryside, she immediately dismissed it, thinking my condition was something that only delicate people who couldn’t cope with the stresses of life had,” says Neha*, who now lives in Chennai.
“Today, many young people seem to think that it’s cool to get a diagnosis,” exclaims Reshma, reasoning that it is because they have seen their favourite rockstar or artist have the same condition. “They don’t realise that those people have always been predisposed to creativity, even though the condition may have intensified it.”
On the other, stigmatising…
For the vast majority of Indian society, however, mental-health conditions have been brushed under the carpet, and labelled the cause of familial shame.
“I want to put it out there: schizophrenia is not caused by any devils, or ghosts, or black magic,” says Nakul. “It is a condition that is best seen by a psychiatrist, and not left up to self-medication.” Neha adds that someone once told her people with schizophrenia are supposed to be more prone to getting violent when there is a full moon!
There is a certain level of mistrust within the community, between people with schizophrenia and their caretakers as well, feels Reshma.
“Any choice you make, they worry that it may be influenced by the voices in your head. There was a time my parents didn’t let me watch TV, afraid that the vampire movies would trigger me.”
Despite negligible understanding of the condition, Mani*, who has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder along with schizophrenic tendencies, has always been open about his condition to his colleagues as well as family and friends.
“Evolution is the only way we grow,” he says. “My family initially got frustrated after a couple of years following my diagnosis, saying the treatment should have worked by then, and I should have been cured. It took 15 years, but they came around.” It was because they saw how well Mani was doing with treatment, that his siblings — the condition runs in his family — visited psychiatrists too.
The journey every day
After going through a cocktail of medicines for 14 years, Reshma decided to quit medicines altogether, and instead tried finding her own way to manage the condition.
“Our bodies react differently to medicines; for some, the negative side effects take a much higher toll. Moreover, we have different life skills that equip us to deal with the condition,” says Reshma, for whom indulging in her creative side, such as painting and storytelling, and even in martial arts, helped.
On the other end of the spectrum is Ram, who swears by the utility of medicines; he has even undergone electro-convulsive therapy.
“The entire process of therapy that goes along with treatment has helped me understand myself much better. The way I interact with people has changed, I have started living less inside my mind.”
* Names changed to
protect identity
