On the record
With the text cursor blinking, waiting for me to finish filling out the form, I double-take whether to amplify stigma and shame or defy classification.
“Have you had any condition that limits your ability to perform the work you applied for? Yes? No? Prefer not to say?”
Questions like this would always come up at the end of my internship application forms and interviews. It would never fail to make me feel guilty if I left it blank, knowing I would render my signature at the end, certifying that my application is true and without omission. With this, I wrestle with the fact that I should answer yes, meaning I am amplifying stigma and shame, or no, signifying my resistance against classification.
Indeed, there is no easy answer, and I really find it hard to choose which box to tick. But allow me to plead each case.
Yes. Because I have been diagnosed with major depressive disorder. If these application forms also require documentation, I would allow them to confirm with the two psychiatrists I have been with. I would also provide the prescriptions I have been taking for the last 16 months.
Yes. Because it is limiting in a way that words fail to describe how it can be overwhelming or empty my day had been most of the time (no, it is not sadness in my case). It is disabling that it would always take me a great amount of effort to open my eyes and get out of bed or eat more food than usual.
Yes. Because I would always find myself crying in the bathroom where the shower would drown my tears down the drain every time and ask myself in the mirror what is the quickest way to stop the agony and choose a false solution. It also told me I was not worthy of happiness and convinced me that I would only be here for a short time — that I would not work and witness a better world everyone deserves.
Yes. Because my condition has robbed me of genuine love, childhood, and relationships. Sometimes, I was constantly in limbo and faking some smiles to return; other times, I was burying myself in reading and writing or learning new things just to escape reality.
So, no. Because I knew I was one of those people you can call gifted and talented during my formative years. I was useful and functional, like a cog in the machine to produce a model student for excellence. In my case, I was valedictorian in elementary and maintained my academic standing and extracurriculars during high school.
And this is the part where it gets more tricky as it is hard to let go of one’s past self. When I checked “yes,” I still could not believe it. When I think of disability, my brain always comes up with pictures of the wheelchair symbol at a parking space, accessible toilets in comfort rooms, and the first train car segregated, including for persons with disability.
No. Because is it not better to pass as a nondisabled person? Why would someone choose to say they have had a condition and consider themselves part of society’s most vulnerable sector — the group that is always used as a rhetoric or talking point in the speeches of politicians and those who have been regarded as unable to speak for themselves? Why would one want to own up to their condition and invite everyone else to one’s pity party?
Perhaps, “prefer not to say” is the appropriate option. Although I prefer to say “yes” on record, it is only for the reason that I can have access to the support that I need. Like many people diagnosed with clinical depression, I have learned that it would really take a toll for someone to disclose one’s mental illness as I got comments like: “You don’t look like someone who’s depressed.” “But you’re getting accepted to your internships.” “It’s all in your head.” “You can just distract yourself from it.”
When all things are said and done, I always feel like saying sorry and wish it would be easier to explain my condition in a language that is already familiar to people who have similar reactions. But I know I would resent myself even more if I kept prioritizing their discomfort over my peace.
Unfortunately, I am not here to be your poster girl who tells you things will get better overnight. I am also not here to attest that it is better to be silent and indifferent when a person is on the brink of death. I am only here to paint a picture of what depression and disability could look like so one will be able to express compassion, if not at least sympathy.
When you zoom out to see the bigger picture, I hope you realize that we are in a care crisis, but we can still do something about it, like creating safe spaces in families, chosen or not, and communities. More than that, I hope, as author and activist Mariame Kaba said, you let this opportunity radicalize you rather than lead you to despair.
So, to answer the question: Yes. Because making my condition known has enabled me to embrace my whole self, acknowledge my limitations without shame, and keep an oath to myself to create a safer and more inclusive environment.
If you or someone you know needs help, call the National Center for Mental Health hotline at 0917-899-USAP (8727); (02) 7-989-USAP; or 1553 and Mind Matters at 899-USAP (8727).
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Jhona Reyes Vitor, 21, is taking media and design internships while on a health break.
