I didn't wake up one morning, and decide I had depression. It grew, like unwanted mold in the back of a cupboard, that you notice one day, and think, oh, I can sort that out. Not realizing that it's in the walls, under the carpets, in the insulation; everywhere. It's so far beyond what you can deal with yourself, it's overwhelming.
Things had been difficult for a long time. I'd left a long-term relationship, and in so doing, my children turned away from me. A long and traumatic legal battle simply made things worse. It left me alone, and in considerable debt (lawyers are NOT cheap). I thought I was 'ok'. I had a good job (an awesome boss), I worked with great people. I had a wee unit I lived in that I liked. I had my health under control for the first time in years.
Narrator - Things were not OK
Part of the legal process had included some counselling. Counselling I continued on my own for some time. I have 'issues'. Most of us do. All of us are carrying things that color our perspective on life, and make us react in strange ways. Mine center around stability. I went to 14 schools before I was 13. Other crap contributes too (abuse, alcoholism, molestation, rape, miscarriage, homelessness).
Growing up, I was responsible for my younger sisters a lot. I became a step-mum at just 21, of two almost teenage children. By the time I had my own children, I'd been 'mum-ing' for a long time. I believed the most important thing I could give my children, was stability. Security. Safety. Consistency. Their lives weren't going to be constantly in flux. They could grow to be themselves in a supportive environment. No pressure. And I could totally do it on my own while their father remained unemployed. TOTALLY.
Narrator - Totally could not.
I was constantly exhausted. I was stressed. I was unhappy in my relationship. I felt unappreciated and invisible. I was a mess.
Looking back, I know that was the point I should have stepped back and asked for help (HAHAHAHAHAHAHahahahahhaaaaaaaaa me? Ask for help? So funny). I was already shutting down.
Because that's what depression feels like, shutting down. One by one, the things I used to do, stopped happening. Like watching a vibrant street of shops close, one after another, until all that's left is a row of empty shells, covered in graffiti, and full of drifting rubbish. Like the street of shops, it's only after the third or fourth shop closes, that you start to wonder why nothing else has moved in to replace it. In my head, it looked like this: That tv show I used to watch every week ended. Instead of watching a new show, I would watch a repeat of an old one. I finished reading a book, and didn't pick up a new one, but an old one. I didn't go and see that new movie with Whatsisname in it, I stayed home and watched one I'd seen before. I stopped watching the news, because I just didn't care.
Somehow, exhaustion set in. Catching up with friends was too hard. A phone call was draining. Going to work? Yeah, that wasn't happening much. Because, people. People are WAY too hard to deal with. People can be so demanding! They expected me to engage when they spoke, to contribute to conversations, to laugh at the funny things, and be shocked by the dreadful. Avoiding people become the new default setting for life. For weeks I was would only go to work on days I knew the office would be nearly empty.
Through all of this, my 'normal' brain was shouting at me. GO TO WORK. YOU LIKE YOUR JOB. YOU LIKE YOUR CO-WORKERS WHY ARE YOU AVOIDING THEM? YOU SAID YOU'D GO TO THE THING WHY ARE YOU CANCELLING? GET OUT OF BED. The number of times I have told myself to GET OUT OF BED, is simply ridiculous. My bed became my cocoon.
Anything new was too hard to cope with. I found myself doing things that required no interaction. Simple. Not emotionally demanding. I didn't have to find empathy for a new character or remember a new convoluted plot-line. I didn't have to find the capacity to be outraged at violence. The world continued to spin without my input. For months I existed like this. Using up sick days. Using up holiday days when I ran out of sick days. Taking a few days a week unpaid. All to find the energy to keep myself employed, with the ability to pay rent.
Finally came a day when I registered that I hadn't watched, read, or listened to any news for a couple of weeks; in that moment, it became clear to me that I didn't matter. That nothing I did or said was going to change anything (*not a plea for help - a statement of where my head was). That was the moment I decided it was all too difficult.
Waking up in hospital was the first day of my climb. A journey that even now, seems like such a lot of energy, for what my depression tells me is meaningless; but my family and friends assure me is worth it. My shouty brain knows they're right. My depression can be an overwhelming force. Every day I have to choose which to believe.
Today is a good day.
Derri
Things had been difficult for a long time. I'd left a long-term relationship, and in so doing, my children turned away from me. A long and traumatic legal battle simply made things worse. It left me alone, and in considerable debt (lawyers are NOT cheap). I thought I was 'ok'. I had a good job (an awesome boss), I worked with great people. I had a wee unit I lived in that I liked. I had my health under control for the first time in years.
Narrator - Things were not OK
Part of the legal process had included some counselling. Counselling I continued on my own for some time. I have 'issues'. Most of us do. All of us are carrying things that color our perspective on life, and make us react in strange ways. Mine center around stability. I went to 14 schools before I was 13. Other crap contributes too (abuse, alcoholism, molestation, rape, miscarriage, homelessness).
Growing up, I was responsible for my younger sisters a lot. I became a step-mum at just 21, of two almost teenage children. By the time I had my own children, I'd been 'mum-ing' for a long time. I believed the most important thing I could give my children, was stability. Security. Safety. Consistency. Their lives weren't going to be constantly in flux. They could grow to be themselves in a supportive environment. No pressure. And I could totally do it on my own while their father remained unemployed. TOTALLY.
Narrator - Totally could not.
I was constantly exhausted. I was stressed. I was unhappy in my relationship. I felt unappreciated and invisible. I was a mess.
Looking back, I know that was the point I should have stepped back and asked for help (HAHAHAHAHAHAHahahahahhaaaaaaaaa me? Ask for help? So funny). I was already shutting down.
Because that's what depression feels like, shutting down. One by one, the things I used to do, stopped happening. Like watching a vibrant street of shops close, one after another, until all that's left is a row of empty shells, covered in graffiti, and full of drifting rubbish. Like the street of shops, it's only after the third or fourth shop closes, that you start to wonder why nothing else has moved in to replace it. In my head, it looked like this: That tv show I used to watch every week ended. Instead of watching a new show, I would watch a repeat of an old one. I finished reading a book, and didn't pick up a new one, but an old one. I didn't go and see that new movie with Whatsisname in it, I stayed home and watched one I'd seen before. I stopped watching the news, because I just didn't care.
Somehow, exhaustion set in. Catching up with friends was too hard. A phone call was draining. Going to work? Yeah, that wasn't happening much. Because, people. People are WAY too hard to deal with. People can be so demanding! They expected me to engage when they spoke, to contribute to conversations, to laugh at the funny things, and be shocked by the dreadful. Avoiding people become the new default setting for life. For weeks I was would only go to work on days I knew the office would be nearly empty.
Through all of this, my 'normal' brain was shouting at me. GO TO WORK. YOU LIKE YOUR JOB. YOU LIKE YOUR CO-WORKERS WHY ARE YOU AVOIDING THEM? YOU SAID YOU'D GO TO THE THING WHY ARE YOU CANCELLING? GET OUT OF BED. The number of times I have told myself to GET OUT OF BED, is simply ridiculous. My bed became my cocoon.
Anything new was too hard to cope with. I found myself doing things that required no interaction. Simple. Not emotionally demanding. I didn't have to find empathy for a new character or remember a new convoluted plot-line. I didn't have to find the capacity to be outraged at violence. The world continued to spin without my input. For months I existed like this. Using up sick days. Using up holiday days when I ran out of sick days. Taking a few days a week unpaid. All to find the energy to keep myself employed, with the ability to pay rent.
Finally came a day when I registered that I hadn't watched, read, or listened to any news for a couple of weeks; in that moment, it became clear to me that I didn't matter. That nothing I did or said was going to change anything (*not a plea for help - a statement of where my head was). That was the moment I decided it was all too difficult.
Waking up in hospital was the first day of my climb. A journey that even now, seems like such a lot of energy, for what my depression tells me is meaningless; but my family and friends assure me is worth it. My shouty brain knows they're right. My depression can be an overwhelming force. Every day I have to choose which to believe.
Today is a good day.
Derri
Well written
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