Like most precious millennial snowflakes, my need to be heard is now being expressed through blog posts which will stop almost immediately after I can once again expel my opinions on my poor friends over an over priced G&T in a sweaty London pub. But for now, here’s a reminder that its mental health awareness week. It would seem that a global pandemic somewhat outweighs the population’s consciousness of other illnesses yet with increasing concerns on the impact of the current climate on our mental health it is evident that the psychological and social impacts will outlast the physical symptoms of the virus, proving our need to push this agenda is only growing. Depression alone affects 254 million people worldwide at some point in their lifetime making it arguably more potent that COVID-19, yet its significantly more difficult for us to talk about. Trigger warning: this is another blog about “the rona”.
We often see mental health explained in the context of physical health, you wouldn’t tell someone with a broken leg to “cheer up love” and the more I think about it, the more parallels that can be drawn between COVID-19 and depression.
Most importantly, coronavirus and depression are both illnesses. COVID19 is an illness caused by coronavirus that effects the respiratory system. Initially, the body responds to an infection such as coronavirus by trying to fix itself (coughing / sneezing) but it can reach a point where they system is put under too much pressure and you end up in respiratory failure. Similarly, if you put the limbic system under too much pressure, usually as a result of stress, it will malfunction. The limbic system controls sleep cycles, hormones and mood and for those suffering with mental health issues, the disruption in the limbic system results in physiological changes. For example, in a healthy person, the levels of cortisol in the body fluctuate throughout the day, with a peak in the morning that slowly reduces throughout the day. Somebody that suffers with depressive illness does not have the same peak in the morning, quite literally making it more difficult to get out of bed in a morning. To clarify, depression is a physical illness.
Thankfully, due to social distancing measures, I have not suffered with the afflictions of COVID-19. But if I had, I would curl up in bed, sleep for a week and normal human activities would be rendered impossible be it having a shower, holding a conversation, or eating. In its simplest form, I would rest and let my body recover from this physical illness. Similarly, when initially entering clinical depression, we withdraw into our least challenging environment as a mechanism of self-preservation, it’s the human equivalent of hibernation. I imagine for many people, their “least challenging environment” would roughly translate to their own bed in their own home. Letting someone rest when they’re ill is logical, it gives the body time to reestablish equilibrium and move towards recovery. Unfortunately, for someone suffering with depressive illness, this period of rest gives them time with their own thoughts, pulling them into a black hole as they shatter every aspect of their character, causing more stress and feeding the self-perpetuating cycle that made them ill in the first place. The only way to get out of this cycle, is to alleviate all possible causes of stress, somewhat difficult when the majority of this stress originates in your own head.
Further to this, if I was ill at home with COVID-19, it would be really great if someone cared for me. It would be physically helpful if someone brought me food and water. It would be kind of them to go beyond my physiological needs to help fulfil the other layers of Maslow’s triangle. If I was to be ill for a long period of time, it would be helpful if they encouraged me to shower and kind of them to let me know what day of the week it was. Obviously, recovering from illness is much easier if other people help. If someone is struggling with their mental health, help them. You can listen to them (listen, not talk), you can encourage them to have a shower and you can make a cup of tea, help them fulfil the psychological needs of a human, because their brain is broken and they’re struggling to do it by themselves.
Caring for some with either depression or COVID19 is difficult, because neither of these illnesses have a cure. Alas, for those of us that are into instant gratification, there is no “fix”. We can treat the symptoms, by providing ventilators or reducing the amount of stress they are under but you cannot solve the problem. Caring for an ill person is selfless, it requires patience and long term investment. The theme for mental health awareness this year is kindness. Kindness is an antidote to isolation and creates a sense of belonging. It helps reduce stress, brings a fresh perspective and deepens friendships. Kindness to ourselves can prevent shame from corroding our sense of identity and help boost our self-esteem. But kindness is an intrinsically risky endeavour, it requires sacrifice, risking us looking foolish or being taken advantage of, which is why we sometimes retreat. To receive or to give kindness is an act of courage.
The response to treating these issues with ambiguity has proven ineffective. Be it the lack of NHS funding for mental health support or the ridiculous overuse of the word ‘unprecedented’. The word ‘unprecendented’ tells us very little. Its the generic default that is used throughout this crisis and its the adjective version of describing something as ‘nice’ in a school English class.
We should be honest, these times are difficult. Its difficult trying to get full engagement from everyone on constant video calls, its difficult being with your housemates all day with nothing to talk about and its difficult not knowing when this is going to end. Is it a British stiff upper lip thing? Maybe it’s a toxic masculinity thing, maybe it’s the way the English language has evolved makes it more difficult for us to articulate our feelings. Either way, the lack of clarity is detrimental to our health as a nation.
As the government guidelines last week were so vague, I have taken the opportunity to repurpose their advice to make it appropriate for mental health awareness week because if we stay alert to our own mental health and that of those around us, it will be easier to control illnesses and we will fundamentally save lives.
In the meantime, I’ll be wearing my tiara and pouring my own gin. Let me know if you want a loaf of banana bread.
