Trigger Warning: This article discusses severe mental health struggles, including obsessive-compulsive disorder, depression, and anxiety, which may be distressing to some readers.

Over the past few years, I’ve been on a turbulent journey, battling severe obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), depression, and anxiety. This ordeal reached a breaking point just after I completed my undergraduate degree in journalism and mass communication at IILM University, Gurugram. To measure my mental health, I often ask myself, where do I see myself in five years? This question’s answer serves as a barometer for my emotional well-being.

In June, the answer was bleak. I couldn’t envision a future free from pain. These feelings intensified over the following months, and by August, I was experiencing daily anxiety and panic attacks. My days blurred into one another, and an inescapable sense of worthlessness settled in. Graduating, a significant milestone, failed to lift my spirits. Relentless, negative thoughts overran my mind, and even minor setbacks became triggers for deeper despair. It felt as if the weight of the world rested on my chest. These feelings collided with my enrolment at the Asian College of Journalism in Chennai for my postgraduate diploma. Unfortunately, the combination of my emotional turmoil and academic pressure led me to drop out within two weeks.

I recall sleepless nights when racing thoughts prevented me from finding peace. There were days when I couldn’t even remember what I had done, as time seemed to blur into a confusing, hazy mess. Amidst this darkness, I stumbled upon a quote by David Foster Wallace, a writer I discovered through the movie The End of the Tour, based on author David Lipsky’s memoir about his experiences with Wallace during a road trip. Wallace died by suicide in 2008 after battling with depression for years. The quote resonated with me. It perfectly captured my state of mind at the time, as I often felt that the world would be better off without me.

The so-called ‘psychotically depressed’ person who tries to kill herself doesn’t do so out of quote ‘hopelessness’ or any abstract conviction that life’s assets and debits do not square. And surely not because death seems suddenly appealing. The person in whom Its invisible agony reaches a certain unendurable level will kill herself the same way a trapped person will eventually jump from the window of a burning high-rise. Make no mistake about people who leap from burning windows. Their terror of falling from a great height is still just as great as it would be for you or me standing speculatively at the same window just checking out the view; i.e. the fear of falling remains a constant. The variable here is the other terror, the fire’s flames: when the flames get close enough, falling to death becomes the slightly less terrible of two terrors. It’s not desiring the fall; it’s terror of the flames. And yet nobody down on the sidewalk, looking up and yelling ‘Don’t!’ and ‘Hang on!’, can understand the jump. Not really. You’d have to have personally been trapped and felt flames to really understand a terror way beyond falling.

David Foster Wallace

Fortunately, the story doesn’t end there. In late August, I made a crucial decision to seek professional help. This step marked the turning point in my battle against OCD, depression, and anxiety. I began to see a glimmer of hope that things could improve. With time, treatment, and determination, things can get better.

If you or someone you know is struggling with similar challenges, there are resources available to provide support and treatment. Reach out to mental health professionals, therapists, or counsellors who can offer guidance and help you navigate the path to recovery.