The mental health pandemic in the Philippines is ongoing and must be addressed with urgency.
AT A GLANCE
- Drink this water of the spring, rest here awhile, we have a long way yet to go and I can’t go without you. —Ursula K. Le Guin
By ALEX AMANSEC
SOMEONE TO LEAN ON An important reminder to anyone that you are not alone (Cottonbro Studio)
I was alone in my room past midnight on Tuesday, June 27, when I called the Philippine National Center for Mental Health. In other words—no longer hiding it under any professional euphemisms—I called the suicide hotline.
This wasn’t the first time I called them. The first time I did was only an attempt, two outgoing calls that were never answered at two in the morning on June 18, 2022. The second time was when I needed someone to talk to on March 23, where I called the hotline at noon and was surprised that someone picked up, a woman whose voice gave away the years in terms of her age, but her tone was tender and promised safety. I broke down as she listened and when I had nothing left to say, she said everything I wanted and needed to hear.
It wasn’t exactly the same reinvigorating experience. The woman who picked up was certainly younger, less experienced. I told her everything from how I was both alone, lonely, in need of someone who would be willing to listen, all the way to implying thoughts of self-harm. I was looking for assurance that everything was going to be okay, but her lack of experience was given away based on her first response to my brokenness.
“It’s just a phase,” she said over the line. “Look on the bright side of things. We need these challenges to make us stronger.”
There’s a lot of things to unpack from what she told me. I still was fortunately in the right mind to recognize that she had good intentions, for sure. But after ending the call earlier than expected, in the dead of the night, I was left to cross the abyss on my own.
Mental health in the Philippines
On June 21, we commemorated the fifth year since the signing of Republic Act 11036, or the Mental Health Act of the Philippines—but is it being implemented properly? Many societal symptoms are showing we still have a long way to go.
When I returned to my condominium in Quezon City the very next midnight, there were police cars and an ambulance parked in front of the neighboring building. A security guard informed me that a student had allegedly jumped from their window just a few minutes earlier. I do not know the student’s name or, scarier, whether he or she is still alive (I’m praying). What is equally serious is how I also cannot be sure whether the student reached out to anyone before succumbing to suicide.
In October 2022, the University of the Philippines Populations Institute (UPPI) released the results of a nationwide survey saying that nearly one in five young Filipinos have considered ending their lives, and six in 10 of those did not reach out to anyone about it. Only one in 10 are aware of any suicide prevention program or service being offered.
There is a grave mental health pandemic ongoing in our country. Besides the stigmatization on the person-to-person level, the budget and allocation of resources toward the very few local mental health facilities have been poorly executed.
In April, after a surprise ocular inspection, Senator Raffy Tulfo called out possible cases of corruption or negligence that manifest in the dismal state of the National Center for Mental Health in Mandaluyong City. Dr. Dinah Nadera, a highly-esteemed psychiatrist in the field of public mental health in the Philippines, even stressed the need to further train healthcare providers in general hospitals on their knowledge and skills when it comes to mental health.
Hope is the thing with feathers
In these times when everyone is tethered to social media platforms that deceive us to think we are more connected to each other, we must remind ourselves that we do not know everything.
I write this passage on the last train to Santolan station. The collective experience of every body swaying in sync to the momentum of the vehicle, every body needing some form of contact besides its two feet on the floor—something to grip, someone to lean on. For if not, the body might fall. I am writing this to remind anyone who reads this that you are not the only passenger. You do not have to go through this alone. And if, by chance, you know anyone who might be losing their balance, I urge you to reach out to them and ask how they are doing.
The systems set in place need to be reviewed, and I write this as an appeal to the Philippine government and healthcare institutions to recognize that the time for action is now. At the same time, with the few days that have passed since I called the suicide hotline, I write this as proof to myself and to anyone else who reads this that there is hope, and it will be okay. You are heard, you are seen, and you are loved. In the words of American novelist Ursula K. Le Guin, “Drink this water of the spring, rest here awhile, we have a long way yet to go and I can’t go without you.”
HANDANG MAKINIG The National Center for Mental Health (NCMH) crisis hotlines can be reached at these numbers for anyone in need of someone to listen (doh.gov.ph)
The National Center for Mental Health (NCMH) crisis hotlines can be reached at 1553 (Luzon-wide landline toll free), 0917899-USAP (8727), 09663514518, and 09086392672. (https://doh.gov.ph/NCMH-Crisis-Hotline)
