A HAND filled the first frame of a four-panel comic strip that popped up on my timeline recently. It was waving out of the waters, with fingers extended wide, suggesting that it was of a person drowning and in desperate need of help.
On the second frame, another hand appeared. It seemed ready to save the one in need.
On the third frame, the new hand reached close to the one calling for help. But, instead of pulling it out of the waters and into safety, the new hand simply gave it a high five.
On the fourth frame, the hand in need was submerging.
What accompanied the strip was the caption: “When u open up to someone about ur depression and they say ‘OK lang ’yan.’”
The post was the only thing I could think of when I checked up on a friend who’s battling severe anxiety disorder.
A 2010 national census reveals that of the 1.4 million Filipinos with identified disabilities, 14 percent of which are mental related, ranging from depression, anxiety disorder, schizoaffective disorder, acute and transient disorder and stimulant-related disorder. My friend was an achiever, easygoing and perfectly fine prior to his postgraduate life. Things started to change when he began working.
The demands of his job, he said, were too much. He woke up early and got to bed late. He had no time for anything but his obligations. Phone calls came even on days it shouldn’t.
He was consistently on his toes, anticipating the next pressure that he was sure would be heavier than the last. The pileup became too heavy to carry and too cluttered to crawl from. It was the fatal combination of external forces and inner demons. The grind eventually wore on him.
His stress manifested emotionally and physically. He began to have seizures. Soon enough, he decided to retreat to the province and recover.
After more than a year, he came back here to work again. “I’m much better,” he said. “Much more appreciative of things.”
He came out the ordeal stronger, wiser and with a mission, he proclaimed, adding that mental issues should not be taken lightly.
“The worst thing you can tell someone going through something is OK lang ’yan,” he said. “If it were that simple, why would anyone have to go through these things? Believe me, its not that simple.”
What struck me most about what he said was how simple three words said in good faith can worsen one’s situation. How many times have you said, OK lang ’yan? How many times have you heard someone say, OK lang ’yan?
It was an eye opener. Not everyone is good at giving advice, sure, but anyone who attempts should be mindful all the time. OK lang ’yan may be a default show of concern, a template response, but in helping someone going through a tough situation who has finally mustered the courage to open up, defaults and templates won’t do.
A story from Health.com discusses the do’s and don’t’s of things to say to someone with depression, courtesy of mental-health organization Depression Alliance. Some are listed below:
I understand.
What not to say: Believe me, I know how you feel. I was depressed once for several days.
What to say: I can’t really understand what you are feeling, but I can offer my compassion.
You can get through this.
What not to say: It’s your own fault.
What to say: When all this is over, I’ll still be here and so will you.
There is hope.
What not to say: Try not to be so depressed.
What to say: We are not on this earth to see through one another, but to see one another through.
If you can’t come up with anything beyond “just don’t mind that” or “think happy thoughts” or anything along those lines, it would be best to simply reciprocate his courage with the effort to listen. Sometimes, you don’t really need to say a word to help.
Speaking of which, this issue on mental health came to light again on the global stage recently with the passing of Chester Bennington, the front man of American rock band Linkin Park. It was reported that Bennington took his own life on July 20. He was 41.
There was no shortage of reports that Bennington was battling depression. In a story in Rolling Stone, the rock star was quoted as saying to Music Choice that he “felt a little off” his “whole life”.
“I find myself getting into these patterns of behavior or thought—especially when I’m stuck up here [in my head]; I like to say that ‘this is like a bad neighborhood, and I should not go walking alone,’” Bennington said, who suffered molestation at a young age, and struggled with addiction throughout his life.
His demons was also detailed in his songs. In the 2007 song “Shadow of the Day”, Bennington sings “I close both locks below the window. I close both blinds and turn away. Sometimes solutions aren’t so simple. Sometimes goodbye’s the only way.”
That last line, “sometimes goodbye’s the only way”, as we know, is not true. It’s everyone’s responsibility to let people on the edge be aware of that. It’s a mission that can only be carried out if we stop blurting, “It’s OK,” and instead, say, “It will be OK,” and then guide them through their inner tumult.