“Right around 4pm I start getting restless as if I am possessed by a force each afternoon” were the words of a Karachi-based homemaker to me once. The term Pakistanis often use to denote stress is tension, but it is usually neatly packaged with its link to the unseen. People don’t forget to throw in a someone-must-have-done-something-on-me, suggesting an enemy making hurried trips to a Bengali baba to insert needles in a handmade doll. Depression is not understood in its raw chemical and biological form; out of guilt we have always been quick to couple science with superstition or religion. Social attitude towards mental health issues needs to be on par with other afflictions; the mind is just like any other organ that can suffer due to physical or emotional injuries as well as genetic predisposition. Many seemingly normal people that one encounters everyday seem to be on the brink of a nervous breakdown. They are mentally crippled or are suffering but they let it be, calling it a turn of events or obstacles in one’s life responsible for bringing a change in their behaviour. Culturally, we have always been told by the elders to suck it up and display courage. The partition-era generation does not believe in the existence of depression at all, for them every solution lies in drinking a glass of milk at night. Clinical depression is actually a disease that eats one’s core, nibble by nibble; it requires intervention in the form of therapy and treatment, and not just pep talk by others on how to be successful in any aspect of life. Nervousness, for instance, is seen as a weak trait by us; only the dumb are allowed their jitters, but it can often be one of the symptoms of an underlying psychological problem, especially if it exists in abundance. An estimated 34 percent of the population suffers from some form of depression, and the global figures sits at around 20 percent. That is almost one-third of Pakistanis fighting this terrible disease. Self-denial is a big hurdle that stops many people from admitting to this ailment, there is social embarrassment associated with being clinically depressed. No one likes to be called unhappy but people don’t seem to mind living in the absence of contentment. The South Asian sense of humour, for example, also consistently takes pot-shots at ‘sad souls’ and can be quick to label someone ‘mental’ in zest, helping to contribute a great deal to a suffering person’s hesitance in owning up to the disease. Environmental stress in Pakistan may also be the culprit behind many cases of rising blood pressure as news channels also keep their audience on the edge perpetually. Left neglected, a lot of simple anxiety often develops into full-blown panic attacks, further pushing a person down a dark tunnel. This could perhaps explain why our Pakistani mothers are such worry warts, always praying as their children leave home, messaging them every two hours to check on their ‘khairiyat’ (wellbeing). If they ever did a study on the least relaxed group of mothers on the planet, our ladies would come out tops easily. It is however ok to feel lonely from time to time, we live in chaotic times; everyone is connected to someone on their smartphone but disconnected with their inner selves. Many psychologists and family doctors have started suggesting people to carve out some ‘me time’ from their busy schedules every day to enjoy solitude. There is also something known as seasonal depressive disorder that commences with the beginning of a particular season each year for some people. Chronic depression, however, requires more than just a friend to talk it out to. An unhealthy state of mind can be a breeding ground for various other mental disorders, which can develop at the same time and can be difficult to diagnose for the psychiatrist. How unhealthy one is mentally is something a victim of depression can only gauge, but if a loved one consistently makes references to suicide, even jokingly, you can be rest assured they have been fantasising about it. Everyone has come across a fellow Pakistani who has said, “I wish I could just end this life and get rid of my issues forever.” We are all surrounded by ticking suicide bombs. I am, of course, not referring to roadside Romeos who threaten girls in melodramatic ways of slashing their wrists if she rejects his proposal. Such creatures should be reported to the police station immediately for harassment. The number of Pakistanis taking their own lives has increased over the last few years, but a lot of suicides go unreported thanks to our Stone Age social ways. Since everyone likes comparing our numbers with India, Pakistan is comparatively doing well when it comes to its citizens committing suicide, as opposed to its neighbour where the number is alarmingly high. Perhaps it has something to do with suicide being haraam (forbidden) in Islam; it is aggressively discouraged even in religious discourses so that’s some respite for Pakistanis. It is, however, still not okay to die before death itself; seeking help on time can infuse vitality back into some lives. The writer is a freelance columnist with a degree in Cultural Studies and a passion for social observation, especially all things South Asian. She tweets @chainacoffeemug