170916 - Denise

Life has a funny way of pushing you towards certain situations, in my opinion - take tonight, for example, when I was walking home and heard someone crying by the canal. In all honesty, "crying" was a bit of an understatement - when I heard it I thought someone had either just been broken up with, or was in the running for Argument of the Year with someone else.

It was getting late, and I really needed to be home in half an hour or so (because curfew), but I was both a little curious and a little more than slightly concerned, which was what made me walk towards the source of the wailing instead of away from it like my gut was telling me to because hey, this was sounding a little too much like a horror movie for my liking. I really didn't want to walk alone, though, which was why I was grateful to be accompanied by a passing cyclist.

The source of the wailing turned out to be a lady crumpled against the railing of the canal, which got me even more worried - I've lost enough friends and acquaintances to be worried when anyone looks like they could possibly be considering doing something very very drastic.

I offered her wet wipes to help her calm down, and made small talk - her name was Denise, and she was 25 years old. From what I could tell, she didn't seem to be suicidal (that was a major relief) and in all honesty all she wanted was a listening ear. She simply seemed to have been overwhelmed by everything that was happening in her life.

The cyclist had cycled off by then, having reassured himself that she was fine and that I had the situation under control, so I settled myself down next to her on the pavement because I wanted to make her feel more comfortable and it also seemed like I'd be there a while, so I may as well make myself comfortable.

We chatted a bit, mostly to let her calm down and rant to me about the injustices of the social system, but I honestly didn't expect for the police (Five officers! In our quiet little neighbourhood! Holy shit!) to show up. Apparently some residents had called to report the crying, which in hindsight made perfect sense because well, she was pretty loud. 

I spoke to the officers - who looked both wary and slightly bemused - and asked them to send her home. I would have done it myself, but curfew really is a problem for me.

What Denise said really kind of stayed in my mind, though - about the stigma of people with mental disabilities. I know we're trying to be more inclusive as a society, but the truth is that some social stigma still remains. The truth is that if someone suffers from a mental disability, he or she is looked upon as "not quite right" or simply "crazy". It's more than just a little sad, honestly, and it's also true that any mention of mental disorders regardless of past or present will indeed affect how you are viewed as a person. 

I don't expect an answer to this - in fact this isn't even a question to begin with - but I just think it's sad. I've never hidden anything about my experiences with depression and ED, but I've never really broadcast them either for similar reasons. It's mostly because I don't want anyone to think that I'm doing it for the attention, but I can't and won't deny that I did worry at one point about how I'd be judged for these experiences.

I hope you're okay, Denise.