Gogo: “Yemntfwanami, dimoni lini lona lelelenta sive sitibulale, baphela bantfwabetfu?”
This was asked by a seventy-something-year-old gogo, who is a guardian. Ngavele ngasho ngatsi ngivelelwe! I had no idea what to say. Phela tsine lentfo bebasifundzisa ngesingisi letikolweni. So the language about depression, lelidimoni, as she unwittingly referred to it, was never in the syllabus. Sikhumbule kutsi depression is just one of the contributing factors towards suicide. Not all suicidal people are depressed and not all depressed people are suicidal. Sengitsini mine nyalo lana kugogo lekumele abe yi-support system for someone with lelidimoni? How do I communicate to gogo that we do not view this as lidimoni, but a prevalent mental health condition which, at its worse, yenta kutibulala kube yintfo longayikhetsa? Ngilekeleleni! (kwasho leya ngoma, yaloya muntfu. Niyayati kenine).
Me: “Tinengi letizantfu gogo. Kufaka ekhatsi kukhatsateka kakhulu emoyeni, engcodvweni nasemtimbeni nje. Uma ungati ungatsi lomtfwana ungenwa buvila, sowuvilapha ngisho kudla nekutigeza. Usho impela utsi ngumhlolo wakho, awumati anjena.” While I was trying to explain all this, the worthlessness, general stressors te-life, loss of energy, appetite and behavioural changes, gogo interjected with tears. She began to sob while she expressed guilt about shouting at her grandchild thinking it was all mere laziness nekuba se-stage-jini (oh but the effort I put into typing this word to sound like this – kube ngafundza ngabe ngitsi to capture the homophone – sengiyasho nje).
Gogo: Bengitsi sowuganile lo, utikhandza sekamdzala lakhaya. Bengingati yemntfwanami kutsi kugula konkhe loku. Manje akangitjeli ngani kutsi uyagula? Ukhala nje ngekungalali ebusuku, ngiyabona kenami sowahlala landlini, ulala emini shengatsi umitsi – ngike ngamsola phela.
She managed to piece this narrative together through sobs and wet tissues. To observe the depth of care and love she had for her grandchild was one of the most beautifulestest (I know, all my former English teachers (or is it teachers of English) are cringing at this millennially inspired, non-existent superlative. Sorry, ngibhalile nje) emotional spaces I was privileged to witness. So we continued with gogo. I attempted to explain the biological intricacies of depression such as chemical changes; I swear at some point I said ‘tinswayi nema juice emtimba’ (Yes, I know. The universe heard it too and I can never take it back). She nodded, she questioned, she shared misinformation, we corrected, and we progressed. Gogo became vulnerable. She allowed herself to feel every emotion, with every memory, as she shared traumatic stories. Tasindza tindzaba, ngisho indlovu beyitawusindwva ngulomboko lona. Sakhuluma na gogo about her losses. Sakhuluma about her worries. Sakhuluma about her multiple traumas spanning back decades. Sakhuluma bo nama grizza! And yes, it became a therapy session. Esikhaleni nje (kwasho i-youth). During this psycho-educational exchange, gogo began to see herself kuletintfo besitikhuluma. Wakhumbula a time lapho abeva ngatsi impilo iphelile naSimakadze umfulatsele. This was at times when she experienced major stressors njengekushonelwa which included siblings, a husband and children. It was in her self-reflection, makatibona kuleticatfulo temtukulu wakhe, that she could sincerely connect with lobumatima lobuhambisana nalokuphatseka kwemtukulu.
Gogo: Uyati bengingati kutsi ngibophe emafindvo langaka langekhatsi. Ncesi kukukhalela yemntfwanami. (Magrizza uttered these words as we concluded. Growth in self-awareness is always a welcome outcome – like that ‘Incontact’ SMS, always welcome).It is often said that trauma is generational and the trauma transmission happens in all the spaces we occupy. A safe space allows you to safely explore those traumas by telling your story. Nabasho laba baka narrative therapy batsi letimphilo tetfu tisangwanekwane, ngesilungu kutsiwa ‘we live storied lives’. So lelitfuba to tell your story, to be heard, to be felt, kufaka sandla ekutseni silincobe ‘lelidimoni’ lakhala ngalo gogo.
What I learned, Dear Reader: Some people need their pain to be validated in a safe space, so they can allow themselves to truly connect with the pain of others.
Disclaimer: Sifiso Shabangu writes in his personal capacity as a Clinical Psychologist in private practice.