Time to normalise mental health issues: Seeking help is strength

Since my youth, I’ve made it a point to help road accident victims. Whenever and wherever I encounter someone injured, whether severely or not, I bring them into my car and rush them to the nearest hospital. Sadly, many were so critically injured that they died en route or at the hospital. Their families often expressed gratitude, but I never acted with any expectation of reward. I simply believe that if I or a loved one were ever in that situation, someone would do the same for us.

I vividly recall the days when the police would interrogate good samaritans, questioning if they had caused the accident! The road accident law came later, stating that anyone rushing a road accident victim to the hospital will not be interrogated. Despite that, I remained committed to saving lives. Many times I have had to assemble the body parts of the victim to keep them in the car, and the car would soak in blood pools.

Why am I narrating this after so many years have passed? I’m not boasting of my heroics, nor do I wish to broadcast my deeds on the internet. Rather, I wish to illustrate the unexpected changes that began to affect my strength, will, and vigour in the coming years. After 2015, I developed phobias—a fear of seeing injured or deceased individuals, of crowded or enclosed spaces, of air travel, of visiting crematoriums, and even of seeing patients in hospitals. This was an epic change I witnessed in my life; and at times, it was both scary and annoying. Despite these challenges, I continued my work in public service, engaging with people, hearing their problems, and offering assistance whenever possible. I was going through an incredibly difficult period.

I started becoming phobic about everyday activities: taking my family on outings, sending them to tuition or on trips, even attending public gatherings. The fear of a mishap involving my family consumed me. It felt like a tidal wave of emotions threatening to break free at any moment. Then, one day while driving, I experienced a panic attack. I had never encountered anything like it before; I genuinely thought I was having a heart attack. I called a friend and rushed to my doctor. He examined me and declared there was no heart attack; I was fit enough. By the time I returned home, I felt normal. However, from that day onward, the panic attacks became frequent. While the intensity lessened over time, I started experiencing persistent unease and anxiety. Once again, I consulted my doctor, who referred me to a psychiatrist. After a thorough evaluation, she diagnosed me with stress. Medication helped me regain some normalcy, but the underlying issues lingered.

In 2020, during Covid times, I primarily managed epidemic control efforts from home. The exception was the Uttarakhand migrant workers’ rescue program, where I worked on the ground, coordinating their return by train and bus at the request of then-Chief Minister Trivendra Singh Rawat. That period was the only time I felt truly grounded and myself. Meanwhile, my daughter went to the US for her studies. Upon her return a year later, she insisted on a thorough medical checkup, including a psychiatric evaluation. I reached out to my friend, Dr Mukul Choksi, a renowned psychiatrist. I observed his entire process of examination, questioning, and counselling with her. Afterward, I asked Dr Choksi if I could consult him as well. I explained that I was experiencing similar challenges to my daughter and shared my journey—how I had transformed from a fearless individual into a timid, anxious one.

After our session, Dr Choksi prescribed medication and advised me to return in 60 days. At my follow-up appointment, I reported significant improvement, feeling closer to my old self. He adjusted my prescription for another two months. This pattern continued, and after six months of treatment, I felt like Gopal Goswami again—fit and roaring, ready for any rescue mission and even picking up the injured from road accident sites.

Today, a significant portion of the population faces stress, depression, anxiety, and other mental health challenges. Dr Choksi notes that while Surat had only a handful of psychiatrists a few years ago, there are now over 50, with a demand for a hundred more. Digitisation, the pandemic, and urbanisation are likely contributing to this surge in stress and anxiety, particularly among young people. Ipsos’s Global Happiness Survey 2020 revealed that only 66 per cent of Indians considered themselves happy, a significant 23 per cent decrease from 2011. The same report highlighted that 27 per cent of Indians now rank mental health among the world’s most pressing health issues. The fact of the matter is that we are challenged by many issues in day-to-day life, the kind of pressure our nervous system is not designed to handle.

Another contributing factor to this issue, I found, is a deficiency of vitamins and minerals in the body. When my struggles began, my B12 level was dangerously low at 117, significantly below the requisite 400. Such deficiencies in B12, D3, Omega-3, and other minerals can weaken the nervous system, impacting mental and neurological function. Maintaining adequate levels of these nutrients is crucial, and this can be achieved through 30 minutes of daily exercise, along with yoga and meditation. Regular blood tests, regardless of age or gender, are also highly recommended.

The purpose of narrating this story here is to emphasise the critical need to destigmatise mental health. Every day, I encounter individuals—young and old, across all walks of life—exhibiting symptoms similar to mine. The stigma surrounding mental illness prevents people from seeking help, often exacerbating their problems and sometimes leading to dire consequences. Let’s speak up loudly.

Mental health is a real and pervasive issue affecting people of all ages, genders, and socioeconomic backgrounds. Let’s encourage open conversations about it and inspire those struggling to seek professional help and treatment. Mental health challenges are increasingly common in today’s world; there’s no shame in seeking help. Let’s not allow stress, depression, and anxiety to rob us of our well-being and potential. Let’s treat it, and the world will become a better and more liveable place. Let’s speak about mental health openly and inspire others to understand that it’s curable and that we can live normal, happy lives again.

Views expressed in the above piece are personal and solely those of the author. They do not necessarily reflect Firstpost’s views.