#LIFTINGMINDS: Gagan's story

I want to thank LIFT Bhangra for providing a platform for me and many others to discuss

mental health in the bhangra circuit. This will hopefully shine light and lift minds to this topic

and encourage others to be open with their mental health or even within their small

circle/communities. I have been pretty open with the fact that I struggle with my mental health

within my community, family, and friends. I have thought and even attempted to be open on a

more public platform, but I couldn’t bring myself to do so. Thank you to those that have already shared their stories, because it definitely inspired me to share mine.

I feel that my mental health journey didn’t really begin until high school or it had an

effect on me before that I didn’t really recognise it. Multiple aspects of my life just began to

build up until it felt as though it started to overflow from my stomach, to my chest, to my throat,

and its final destination--- my mind. I grew up with a physically and emotionally abusive father.

If I’m being honest doesn’t even deserve to be called a father. I don’t remember if he was ever physically abusive with me. It’s possible I could’ve blocked it out from my memory because it was that scarring, but he was definitely emotionally abusive. Although, he was physically abusive to my mother. We never had any peace of mind when he was around. Dealing with that for such a long period of time took a toll on me that I didn’t really discover until recently.

At 4 years old, my little brother was born while my father and I were in India. That day my mom was diagnosed with a brain tumor/cancer. She had a seizure while giving birth to my brother and that caused a lack of oxygen to his brain. Due to this, he was diagnosed with a disability called spastic cerebral palsy. All the attention and time put into me and my life

disappeared after that day. I was slowly forced to become more and more independent as the years went by, because “our family isn’t normal” and I can’t be like other children or participate in activities/clubs like the others. I lost my childhood and freedom at 4 years old. I was blessed to participate in the things that my family tried their best to make time for, but even that was difficult. Finding rides home after practices and not being able to make it to any other events, besides what was necessary.

My Masi (aunt), my mother’s sister, became the sole caretaker for my mother as her

health deteriorated and at the same time fought my father for custody of my brother and I. She

ended up getting sole custody and guardianship of us. During this time, my eyes were really

opened to my father’s true colors and the hatred I felt and still feel for him is indescribable.

I was sent to a private Catholic all girls high school because the education was stellar in

comparison to most of the schools in my area, but the catch was that I had to stay with a family friend because the school was over an hour away from my house. I felt extremely alone at this school and could not find my place with them. I was a little shy, especially because I knew I wasn’t rich and white. It was very obvious that if you were not one of those two things you would never fit in. Many times at this school I was bullied and I couldn’t bring myself to stand up or myself. Eventually, my family moved me back home after my first semester because they saw I was being negatively affected from being there. I went to a Catholic school closer to home, where I felt out of place as well, because all of my peers grew up in the Catholic school system together, but eventually I found my place. My mother passed away over Spring break during my first semester at this new school. They announced this at mass, like they do when anyone were to be in the hospital or passed away because it was a very close-knit community. I wish they had asked me though, especially considering I was new at the school. The school advisor tried to get me to open up to her, but I didn’t want to and they asked me if I needed a break on school work or any deadlines. I said no immediately. I just wanted to fit in and not be treated like I was special. I didn’t even grieve properly the morning she did or even in the following year. I kept all my feelings so bottled up that eventually near the middle of my sophomore year I began to cry myself to sleep every night for the next two years. It took me a year to process her death, because I couldn’t fathom that she didn’t exist anymore. I thought about death quite often or years after that, which didn’t help my mental health. My first major depression occurred during my junior year of high school, and then again in my fall semester of junior year in college. Living in Michigan, we are very prone to dealing with seasonal depression, which I deal with every winter.

My grandmother passed away in 2017 on Christmas Eve. Losing 2 mother figures in my

life was rough. My whole family dynamic changed, considering my loving grandma was always the one caring for everyone in the household, especially food wise. She was the heart of the household.

In the following year or so, I was manipulated and sexually assaulted twice. Going

through this had a huge effect on my self esteem, my regular functioning, and I went to a deeper depression than I ever had been. I honestly had no idea that I had been sexually assaulted. I knew of others that this happened to and when I finally, after a couple months, told my closest friends my experience they opened my eyes to what it was. I just didn’t imagine it happening to me, but as I finally spoke it out loud and heard myself saying it and their reactions, I knew it wasn’t right. I am eternally grateful to the friends that were there for me, no questions asked. I went through extreme highs and lows, as well as my emotions being all over the place. Sometimes over the years I lost friends and gained others, possibly as a result of what I was going through, but I never spoke up about any of it. I am also starting to realize my period has a huge effect on me emotions versus normal PMS symptoms.

Bhangra and dance itself had a huge impact on my life. I grew up learning bhangra. My

Masi was on the bhangra team at my school many years ago, and then my cousin (her daughter) became captivated by bhangra and dance. She could never bring herself to quit and she danced for many years and taught many children and teenagers in Michigan. They were both huge inspirations to me. My first time dancing on a stage was when I was about 4 or 5 years old. I haven’t stopped since, even if my family says I shouldn’t and it’s too time consuming. I don’t think they understand that without bhangra I wouldn’t be able to get through a lot of what I’ve been through. Bhangra is my therapy. I forget all my stress, worries, and sadness when I dance. I am extremely grateful to Anakh Sherniyan Di, as well as Wayne State Warrior Jhatka, for constantly helping me improve as a dancer and a person, especially in college where everyone is learning about themselves and finding their place.