Depression

Suicide is not chosen; it happens
when pain exceeds
resources for coping with pain

I have found it hard to write this blog post, I will be honest and admit I still suffer from depression and thus the post will not have a happy ending unfortunately. I have been depressed most of my life, but I clearly remember these feelings from 14 onwards. This gives me over 6 years with near constant low mood. I cannot pin point one thing that made me this way, I do believe I am genetically inclined to be this way as depression as well as other mental health issues run in my family on both sides. Depression is often described as an intense feeling of sadness, and whilst this is quite true, I feel there is more to it than just this.  There is lots of diagnostic criteria that is related, but I don't want to talk about that, as it is clinical and boring.

I will mention that whilst I am clinically diagnosed with depression, I am not actively in treatment for it at the moment or taking medication to control my moods.

Depression for me, is a weight. A weight I carry in my chest and my stomach. It feels heavy and empty at the same time, and it feels like it is clouding over every good moment. It stops you eating, as you no longer feel hungry for anything. The sadness seems to occupy every space of your mind, eating away at anything good, twisting it into something bad. Personally, I am very self hateful as a depressed person, I know others who are outwardly hateful. I feel like a ghost, moving through the real world with no experience of it.  I feel numb to everything, other than this one feeling of utter despair. I am in my own plane, observing a world I don't quite feel part of, or good enough to be part of. 

This feeling takes over, limbs want to stay in bed never to see the light of day again. I clearly remember one morning when I was around 15, literally being too depressed to go anywhere. I was so consumed by these feelings that I couldn't do anything. Happiness is something I feel eludes me, but I fear it is my own fault due to my depression. I have moments of happiness throughout my life, but they always seem dimmed by this ever present figure of depression. This has before driven me to the point of rock bottom. Rock bottom is not pretty. There is nothing more horrific than sitting on your floor with the knife, on the bath side with the pills or standing waiting to jump. It is not about death, it is an escape. At escape from the prison of fear and misery, self loathing and utter despair. It is about relief. For me, it was also about not deserving to live. I have very low self esteem, and with depression, all bad things were twisted into being my fault. I am to blame for everything. I should be perfect, I am not, I am a disappointment. The dialogue goes on. I do not deserve to live, life is wasted on me, I am wasting their time, it would be better if I was gone. 

For me, there has always been this theme of not being good enough, and self blame for everything. This carried throughout my depression, into other issues such as anxiety, self harm and an eating disorder. I crave perfection and yet, cannot obtain it. I am a failure. I don't often ask for help, because I am scared of 'bothering' someone and ruining their day/night/life. Relationships have been hard, as I have never been 'happy enough' and I can see how hard it is to be with someone who is chronically depressed. It takes a lot to deal with. I never thought I would make it past 16, so I am doing ok I think, but I would be lying if I said everything is ok now. 

I can deal with it, as it is something I am used to. I am attempting to recover from various other issues, but my depression is still very much an impact on my life. It stops me going out occasionally and has made me very ill in the recent past. It is an emotional and physical strain like no other, literally it feels like you are being torn apart from the inside out. 

I wish I could better explain it, but it is something you only know if you have ever felt that way. It is horrific, like the light will never come. It is wanting to curl up and never emerge. It is like being a ghost.

x