I’m Telling the Truth but I’m Lying by Bassey Ikpi
I began this collection of essays with the book’s title in mind: I’m Telling the Truth, But I’m Lying. As I dove deeper into Bassey’s stories, what I understood as the true title, came to light: I’m Telling My Truth, But It’s a Lie. Why? Because her brain did what it needed to keep her alive, especially if it meant distilling the truth down to a form that allowed for her to continue living. Bassey makes this clear early on in the book, where she says:
‘Let’s change this over, my brain says. Let’s make sure that when we return, it will be less tsunami, and more leaky drip.’
The first half of Bassey’s book consists of memories that she recalls to be true to her, but may not be true to life. Memories she has of people and things, family members and friends who do the job of filling in gaps that would otherwise remain large holes in her recollection of past experiences. Memories, whether real, or only real to her. Memories of her grandmother, mother, father, whom she has different relationships with, and who have different relationships with their memories. Bassey’s essays demonstrate to the reader that memories can be fluid in nature. They can morph in recollection, take different shapes, change based on new experiences, or stay exactly the same. They can be reupholstered like furniture, taking on a new personality while covering what is old and painful and difficult to feel. Present experiences can make past memories feel recent and new. Memories can be true to life, true to us or both. How memories are remembered can be as different as the people involved in the memory itself.
Lying is how I survive this. Parceling the truth is the way I avoid a descent into stronger, more damaging darkness.
Bassey chronicles her experiences with Bipolar II Disorder and goes as far back as elementary school, when she and millions of other people sat in excitement to watch the Challenger take off, only for it to explode on live television. For many, it was an emotionally difficult experience to process, as one may expect. But for Bassey, it sparked a change in her brain and behavior that would go undiagnosed for years.
Bassey’s early memories of Bipolar II disorder and feeling the need to be as normal as possible because of the expectations she felt from her parents, lead me to wonder if anything would have gone differently, had there been space for her to feel safe and open up early about what she was going through. Within Nigerian culture, I’ve seen firsthand how silence is used to will away the problem for a time. But the illness itself remains, regardless of whether or not it is acknowledged. And unfailingly, it will get to a point where it can no longer be ignored. I have seen personally, and witnessed professionally, the detriments that come with ignoring the signs. It fuels much of the passion I have around mental health and my goals to be an advocate and truth teller in the field.
Bassey in the latter half of her book, was masterful in writing how her brain was processing information during the highs and lows of her manic and depressive episodes. I found myself reading words and sentences faster in cases where she was describing her thoughts, and slower in other moments where it felt more appropriate to be present in what she was feeling. Such instances were when I felt most connected to her as a reader. I wanted so much for her to find relief and release from the hamster wheel of thoughts that would not stop.
As a nurse practitioner student whose specialty is psych, I have been one of those individuals who come in with the white coats, and are in the room to ask the patient questions that frankly they are not in the best place to answer. I read this part about Bassey’s experience in the hospital and nodded at points that were familiar to me, when it comes to the often unhelpful processes that the clients go through in healthcare settings. It can be discouraging and make the patient feel alone and hopeless. As one person in a system, I have resolved to always meet my clients where they are, and make sure they have my full attention. That is the least I can do, and many times, all I can do. I appreciated that Bassey didn’t sugarcoat her experience as a patient. It felt awkward and uneasy to read, but it was true to life. It led me to think about what I would have done differently had she been my client.
Bassey’s chapter Some Days Are Fine gives the reader a glimpse into her life after her hospitalization and her efforts to get through each day as balanced as she can. She describes her states of depression as fog, a phenomenon where the feelings hit her so abruptly and suddenly, she finds herself powerless to it. This description reminded me of episode three of Modern Love on Amazon Prime. Anne Hathaway plays a woman with Bipolar Disorder, and there are moments in the show she depicts in a very true sense in my opinion. Depression gives no hints or forewarnings of its return. It settles on her, like a weight, and she wants nothing more than to crawl in her bed, because the zeal and motivation to do anything has been drained from her. The scene zeroes in on the peaches in the fruit bowl that begin to deteriorate slowly, and several transitions are noted between night and day. While this was only one interpretation of an individual with Bipolar Disorder, it presents how varied people’s experiences can be, and how their manifestations can be affected tremendously by the traumas they have gone through and how their day to day life is lived.
Bassey touches on the topic of suicide, and the struggles she’s had to not let her thoughts get the best of her and ultimately end it all. Her thoughts that she shares can be upsetting to some, but I appreciate that she’s saying out loud what many think about more often than people admit. Having attended the Philadelphia stop of her book tour August 2019, I sat and listened to her describe needing to find moments or experiences to look forward to, in order to draw attention away from the idea of ending her life. It was raw, disturbing, thought-provoking, and ultimately successful in demystifying what many struggle with when contemplating an end.
This book will stand the test of time when it comes to educating the masses of what it’s like to live with this type of mental illness, and showing that ultimately, with support and appropriate treatment, there can be hope. I pride myself on being part of a generation that has pushed to promote the importance of mental health and reject shame for those who seek help. I see this book continuing to be a light for others who might feel alone in their journey, but perhaps in reading this, are motivated to seek help and get better.
