2022 - The Hidden Pandemic

WINNER - Arjun Balaji Srinivasan, Melbourne High school

I’ve battled with some turmoil, and it’s safe to say I still am. I have had my battles, most of which I’ve lost, but I was always told that pressure makes diamonds. I lost my dad 4 months ago. He was diagnosed with cancer in October 2021, and after many surgeries and long nights away in a white bed with his heartbeat displayed, he became stable, but we rejoiced far too early. He had a relapse and underwent chemotherapy, but because the treatment was so late, his immune system had given up. It was during these 8 months of struggle I became more distant, more anxious, but worst of all numb. I lost all sense of happiness. Anything that I had joy in faded as it dawned on me that I was having fun whilst my dad was two steps from the white light. I became guilty for having fun, jealous of others who I believed had it all and angry at the little inconveniences. I grew resentful of the hospital my dad stayed in, believing that his condition was underestimated.

The months following his passing was a blur. Incidents of jokes aimed at moms and dads, usually meant to poke fun was like a lit match in a dry forest. I recognized that I was pushing myself into a spiral of unhealthy self-hatred and sought out therapy. 4 months later and I’m still not there yet. I’ve come to terms with the fact that my dad isn’t coming home from the white bed, but I’m still not myself. I know that it won’t happen, and the fantasy of coming home to a full family is deluded, but I’m still holding out hope, even though I know it's futile. My dad always took situations practically, always asking “What’s the plan now?”. His voice still echoes in my thoughts when I work, talk, and carry myself. And I’m glad. People underestimate troubles that others are going through. Mental health is a very real problem, and it’s complacent to say that statistics about people with depression don’t apply to their community. I’ve faced ignorant comments by people who don’t know better, but the last thing I want is for them to experience my pain just for empathy.

This journey could be thought of as a steep decline followed by a gradual and slow incline. The process out starts with recognition. I’d talk to therapists and get flustered when they couldn’t answer my one question, “What do I do know?”. I understand now that they couldn’t have given me an answer, because mental health is a journey that people walk on their own, much like physical health. You can take a horse to a river, but you can’t make it drink. Getting out of my mental troubles started with acceptance, which is more than acknowledging it’s existence. It’s coming to terms that you will never see that person again and finding ways to proceed. This is my pandemic story.

RUNNER UP - Merryl Chen, MacRobertson Girls High School

This is my pandemic story…

Lockdown was the piece that caused me to collapse like a Jenga tower. The pandemic hit suddenly, causing all the components of the Jenga tower to fall apart and hit the ground. Squeals and laughter surround me, yet I lay dilapidated beneath. Broken and alone, I felt abandoned and isolated from the whole world. There seemed to be an interstice between our interactions, yet I could not overcome them. I began to enjoy

being in my confined box alone, with no lights shining through the windows and doors.

I felt a pair of hands notice my disintegration. She started aligning building blocks from the bottom, but the process was slow, and I gave up before her. She was persistent and determined to repair me, so she asked for support troops. Soon there were four pairs of hands working on rebuilding the tower. They were always on the lookout, and upon a stumble or a shake, a hand would offer reassurance. With the commitment of the whole family, the Jenga tower finally returned to its previous state. I learnt to adapt to this new lifestyle and to explore the inexperienced. I got to eat lunch with my family at home, and although now spending 24 hours a day and seven days a week in a space with my brother broke the peace at home, our relationship

improved and the entire family was enjoying bonding time.

After the comfort and care I received from the supporting hands, I made sure that I could lend a hand to those around me in need. I paid more attention to details and how I could assist my friends and family. Based on my experience, I realised that sometimes a hug or some comforting words were enough. I realised how much the pandemic impacted our mental health and social health. Even the slightest knock could demolish our Jenga tower. I researched helplines like Lifeline Australia crisis support: 13 11 14, and Beyond bue: 1300 22 4636 for the slightest possibility that someone I cared for might need support.

School resumed between every lockdown and I noticed something different happening to one of my friends. It was hard to tell what she had been experiencing and how she was acting through a screen. And because we lived on opposite sides of the city, I wasn't able to visit her, our interactions happened during school. Like the results from the surveyed children by Youthline where seventy-two percent stated lockdown had a

detrimental effect on their mental health, both she and I had fallen into the vast majority. I realised something was really wrong when she left school early after receiving a test score back one day. It wasn't only the unexpected test score that resulted in this, but the stress and anxiety experienced during lockdown. According to the Australian Unity, the three measures of mental distress were approximately 10 points worse during the pandemic than the 2013 survey.

I informed her about beyond blue, and together we read articles and searched for tips and strategies to help maintain our wellbeing. And with the lockdown ending, our friend group was more connected than ever. Upon recalling all my experiences regarding lockdown, I started writing a diary. I noted things I was grateful for and problems and hard times. I learnt to communicate my problems and how to solve them. But most importantly, I always kept a free hand to support any Jenga towers losing their balance.