Mental Health Monday: I Am Fine

Raise your hand if you have ever been asked how you are and you responded with “fine” even though you were anything but.

Yeah. Me too.

I started writing today’s post on January 24^th at 3 a.m. as I could not sleep. Normally that would not be something to write home about— after all, in 2019 I often woke up at 4:20 (😉) to write, and occasionally I would be up as early as 2 a.m. if the fast-approaching deadline demanded it.

What makes this time stand out is that I started writing today’s post on the Notes app on my phone in room 3, bed 8 at Chiromo Lane Medical Centre.

What an outrageous thing to share. Probably one of the most, if not the most, outrageous thing I have ever shared on the blog.

I know, but also do not know, how my mental health got so fucked up I had to be admitted against my will in a mental health hospital on January 23^rd. I stayed at Chiromo for two nights and how eye-fucking-opening those two nights were. I had nothing but time to take stock of my life and it was evident that, to quote Taylor Swift, I have been the architect of my own chaos that I currently live in.

Why I say I know, but also do not know, how my mental health got so fucked up is because there is no single instance I can point to and name as the culprit. Instead, it was a series of bad decisions I made over the course of 2024 that led me to where I am now. Remember in my Karibu 2025 post when I wrote:

I look forward to sharing my 2024 story this year, both the highest of highs and the lowest of lows, as well as the wisdom I gained from the lessons I learned. Because while I made some good decisions last year, I mostly made a lot of bad ones that will define 2024 as an age of foolishness.

Those bad decisions that will define 2024 as an age of foolishness are the reason I am currently on my third type antidepressants. That is some hard shit to admit: I am on antidepressants. I know, but also do not know, how I became so sad I need medication to help me make it through life otherwise thoughts of dying, sometimes by my own hand, reign supreme. I would never act on those thoughts, but I bet anyone who ever attempted suicide would also say they initially never thought they would act on thoughts of killing themselves.

The first time I was prescribed antidepressants was by my GP in late November, when she also prescribed me antianxiety medication. However, I did not take those with any seriousness hence I was prescribed my current antidepressants by a consultant psychiatrist in December. Those at least I took seriously, because being on your third type of antidepressants will make you take your depression seriously. They were prescribed to me on December 10^th, which is part of the reason why in my Karibu 2025 post I wrote:

In December I kept joking, but also not joking, to my husband that there was no one in this world who was more ready for 2025 than I was. Which of course is a hyperbole, but it also did not feel exaggerated because 2024 definitely, maybe broke me and from December 9^th the only thing I was living for was the hope of the new year.

It was incredibly isolating being so depressed when the whole wide world seemed to be having a marvellous time. To make things even worse, December is a tough month for me in the best of times as my mum died on December 13, 2017 at 1:10 a.m. following a 5 ½ year battle with stage IV breast cancer. Being so depressed I was on antidepressants for the second time in my life (the first was in 2012), in addition to grieving my mum on and around her seventh anniversary, made December 2024 the worst of times. Which is why, if you follow me on Instagram (@misslwile) or you have my number so you can see my WhatsApp stories, you will notice I have been playing a lot of Watendawili lately. And the reason for that is because I saw them perform at Blankets & Wine on December 22^nd and their set singlehandedly lifted me out of my depression.

Quick aside, I had never heard of Watendawili before the Blankets lineup was announced, and I did not know any of their songs before their performance. I only knew Nyashinski, Necessary Noize and Xenia Manasseh, though I do not know any of her songs. I had heard of Coster Ojwang and Wakadinali, but I did not know any of their songs. I had never heard of Njerae, Watendawili and Idd Aziz (to this day I do not know any songs from the latter as he did not perform) so I decided to do my homework and listen to all the artists I had never heard of before. But I started with Njeare and got stuck there the entire week leading up to Blankets, because helllooo, Games. She kicked off the festival and was fucking fantastic so if you have never listened to her music I suggest you get on it quick, fast and in a hurry. Watendawili were next and they blew ~the depression out of~ my mind and thank fuck for them because they infused me with holiday spirit in time for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.

I ended December in far better spirits (pun intended 😎) than I started it and I began 2025 on a highly optimistic note. I may have begun my Karibu 2025 post with the opening line from A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens as it is the perfect summation of last year because 2024 was, unequivocally, the best of times, it was the worst of times. But in the penultimate paragraph I shared that I could not be more excited to Begin Again this year, and I would have gotten away with it too if it weren’t for you meddling kids! life and its meddling curveballs!

Enter 2025 and only 23 days into January I end up being admitted in a mental hospital against my will for two nights. Siggggghhhhhh!!!

I do not know what 2025 has in store for me, but what I do know is going forward when my nearest and dearest ask me how I am no longer replying with fine, or its equally bland twin okay, when I am anything but. In my Let The Light In post for World Mental Health Day 2019 I shared how one of the last things my mum told me before she died is that I keep things to myself too much. I have gotten a bit better with letting people in, but generally I prefer to go through my shit alone, only letting people know I was going through shit when I am done going through shit.

I will share a lot more about my stay at Chiromo Medical Lane Centre, and the events that led me there, as the year goes by. For today I will end the post by saying that I do not know if the suffocating cloud of depression will lift this year, allowing the sun to break free and let the light in. But what I do know is I turn 38 in EXACTLY six months and it is about damn time I do better, because I know better, so I can be better. And the low hanging fruit when it comes to doing better is being honest about how I am doing. This does not mean I will be honest with any Tom, Dick, and Harry because sometimes when people ask how you are doing, they are not really asking because they care. Sometimes they just want a good story to tell, aka gossip, and that is a lesson I learnt for the last time BC (before Covid).

So, dear reader, allow me to ask, how are you doing today?