That was ridiculously hard to write. So the obvious question is why am I writing it? Because I need to, because I need to stop being afraid of part of who I am. But why make it public? Because I'm afraid that it will change how people treat me and what they think of me, for the worse. Because when I'm confronted with a form that requests medical conditions, I'm not afraid to put down asthma, but I am afraid to put down depression. Because I don't want to live with that fear any more, and ultimately, this is my blog so I can write what I like!
It's ok if you don't want to read this, it's not for everybody. It's ok if you do want to read this and if you want to talk to me about it. Just maybe not at full volume on a crowded train! This is my story, the story of a part of me that for the most part stays hidden.
"I hurt myself today, to see if I still feel.
I focused on the pain, the only thing that's real."*
Those two lines sum up most of my teenage years as well as a good part of my twenties. Depression for me started with pain, a searing agony in my heart that nothing would fix. Then came the anger and frustration, I could do nothing and nobody understood. Finally there was the dissociation, as if I was living in a dream, everything seemed surreal and so far away.
I've always been a bit of a know it all, and I was definitely worse as a teenager, so when depression hit, I thought I could handle it. More the point, I thought that there was no way all those adults whose lives were so perfect could remotely understand what I was going through. The funny thing is, given the statistics on depression it's highly likely that at least one of those adults also suffered. But I was a teenager and the world revolved around me!
"What have I become, my sweetest friend?
Everyone I know goes away in the end."*
By the time I reached university, I realised something was wrong with me (I know, slow learner), but I wasn't ready to deal with it. There was probably a great deal of self medicating during those years, but in my head that was just put down to finally being an adult and being able to make my own (usually pretty terrible) choices. I suspect a lot of the people I knew at that point in time in my life also suffered from various forms of mental illness, so we became our own informal therapy. Though none of us would necessarily admit to it. We were just "different".
The turning point for me came in my mid twenties. New friends brought different ideas into my life and at the time we had gathered together to celebrate the coming of spring. Part of this was acknowledging what you were grateful for and it came to me then that I was grateful for my life. For the best part of ten years I had been convinced that I was not meant to be here. I had narrowly escaped death by horse accident at 14, shortly before I started suffering from depression and the close association of the two left me convinced that it was a mistake that I was alive. But that evening, surrounded by friends, I was finally grateful for the wonderful opportunity that this life presents, rather than resentful for the incredible pain it had put me through.
It was still a few more years before I really started to get a handle on how to manage it. Joining Aquaterra was another turning point, being surrounded by people who were intelligent and active made me start getting more active. As it turns out, exercise is a big help in managing my depression, but I had been too depressed to try. My workmates inadvertently provided me with the support and challenges I needed to start making a difference in my life.
I think at this point in time my head cleared and I was able to understand what was happening to me a little better. I like to fix things, but you need to be able to understand what's broken to fix it. It's easy to come up with reasons why you're depressed, nobodies life is ever perfect. But for me, I realised it wasn't outside influences making me depressed, simply that I had depression. For no reason. I have the unenviable ability to feel achingly sad and in agonising pain for no reason. Breaks your head, doesn't it?
But that also set me free in a way. I now know that there is nothing wrong in my life if I have a bout of depression. In a way, it's like having an asthma attack, it doesn't mean I need to fix something, I just need to take my medication and wait for it to pass. The medication tastes a lot better than my asthma medication as well, generally I use a good dose of exercise, preferably outside, getting my hands dirty in the garden or kitchen or the company of good friends. When it gets really bad, I sing. Silly songs about rocket ships and flying cars, airships and clockwork dolls. Or, if I'm really desperate, I sing about the dreadful wind and the rain!
But if it's really bad, and I'm stuck in bed with tears rolling from my eyes for no apparent reason, then I think of all the happy memories I have with my wonderful friends and family. I hold them close to my heart and know that the depression will pass.
So, this is my confession, that I have depression. It's a disease that can kill, more the point, it's a disease that makes you want to die. But each day I get up and I am grateful for my life. I am even more grateful for the times that I am filled with joy and happiness, which appear to be increasing as I get older. I accept that it is a part of me, but not the whole part. And I no longer wish to live in fear of it.
*Lyrics are from "Hurt" originally written by Trent Reznor from NIN, however the version I always have in my head was sung by Jeff Martin from the Tea Party.
It's ok if you don't want to read this, it's not for everybody. It's ok if you do want to read this and if you want to talk to me about it. Just maybe not at full volume on a crowded train! This is my story, the story of a part of me that for the most part stays hidden.
"I hurt myself today, to see if I still feel.
I focused on the pain, the only thing that's real."*
Those two lines sum up most of my teenage years as well as a good part of my twenties. Depression for me started with pain, a searing agony in my heart that nothing would fix. Then came the anger and frustration, I could do nothing and nobody understood. Finally there was the dissociation, as if I was living in a dream, everything seemed surreal and so far away.
I've always been a bit of a know it all, and I was definitely worse as a teenager, so when depression hit, I thought I could handle it. More the point, I thought that there was no way all those adults whose lives were so perfect could remotely understand what I was going through. The funny thing is, given the statistics on depression it's highly likely that at least one of those adults also suffered. But I was a teenager and the world revolved around me!
"What have I become, my sweetest friend?
Everyone I know goes away in the end."*
By the time I reached university, I realised something was wrong with me (I know, slow learner), but I wasn't ready to deal with it. There was probably a great deal of self medicating during those years, but in my head that was just put down to finally being an adult and being able to make my own (usually pretty terrible) choices. I suspect a lot of the people I knew at that point in time in my life also suffered from various forms of mental illness, so we became our own informal therapy. Though none of us would necessarily admit to it. We were just "different".
The turning point for me came in my mid twenties. New friends brought different ideas into my life and at the time we had gathered together to celebrate the coming of spring. Part of this was acknowledging what you were grateful for and it came to me then that I was grateful for my life. For the best part of ten years I had been convinced that I was not meant to be here. I had narrowly escaped death by horse accident at 14, shortly before I started suffering from depression and the close association of the two left me convinced that it was a mistake that I was alive. But that evening, surrounded by friends, I was finally grateful for the wonderful opportunity that this life presents, rather than resentful for the incredible pain it had put me through.
It was still a few more years before I really started to get a handle on how to manage it. Joining Aquaterra was another turning point, being surrounded by people who were intelligent and active made me start getting more active. As it turns out, exercise is a big help in managing my depression, but I had been too depressed to try. My workmates inadvertently provided me with the support and challenges I needed to start making a difference in my life.
I think at this point in time my head cleared and I was able to understand what was happening to me a little better. I like to fix things, but you need to be able to understand what's broken to fix it. It's easy to come up with reasons why you're depressed, nobodies life is ever perfect. But for me, I realised it wasn't outside influences making me depressed, simply that I had depression. For no reason. I have the unenviable ability to feel achingly sad and in agonising pain for no reason. Breaks your head, doesn't it?
But that also set me free in a way. I now know that there is nothing wrong in my life if I have a bout of depression. In a way, it's like having an asthma attack, it doesn't mean I need to fix something, I just need to take my medication and wait for it to pass. The medication tastes a lot better than my asthma medication as well, generally I use a good dose of exercise, preferably outside, getting my hands dirty in the garden or kitchen or the company of good friends. When it gets really bad, I sing. Silly songs about rocket ships and flying cars, airships and clockwork dolls. Or, if I'm really desperate, I sing about the dreadful wind and the rain!
But if it's really bad, and I'm stuck in bed with tears rolling from my eyes for no apparent reason, then I think of all the happy memories I have with my wonderful friends and family. I hold them close to my heart and know that the depression will pass.
So, this is my confession, that I have depression. It's a disease that can kill, more the point, it's a disease that makes you want to die. But each day I get up and I am grateful for my life. I am even more grateful for the times that I am filled with joy and happiness, which appear to be increasing as I get older. I accept that it is a part of me, but not the whole part. And I no longer wish to live in fear of it.
*Lyrics are from "Hurt" originally written by Trent Reznor from NIN, however the version I always have in my head was sung by Jeff Martin from the Tea Party.
