It’s about time I got back into this blog writing. I have been back home from my job for about a month now and I have to say the weeks since being back, I’ve been feeling, well...good. Getting constantly abused and knocked down by members of the public whilst you stood on the street in all weather for at least 8 hours a day, usually more, doesn’t sound like the best therapy for a clinically depressed person but surprisingly, for me, it has worked. I came back with better priorities, a new view on life, I still got down now and then but I thought about things differently, it didn’t affect me as much.
I guess that’s why I haven’t updated since I’ve been back, I started this blog mainly to come to terms with my depression and since being back I haven’t felt like I’ve needed to do that, but, as they say, all good things must come to an end. Deep down I knew it wouldn’t last, depression just doesn’t go away like that and the last few days I have been gradually feeling worse. Right now I’m still nowhere near the extremes I used to be but I can feel it coming, slowly seeping deeper into me.
My new way of thinking tells me that there must be a reason for this change of mood and I’ve actually thought of a number of candidates:
1) Since being back I have acted more and more like a counsellor for Amanda. Her hysteria about her weight, about food and even life in general is taking new extremes and naturally she turns to me. Getting messages late at night saying that she can’t sleep due to the fact she has just taken a load of diet pills, fat burning drinks, caffeine drinks, and all on an empty stomach so she feels like she’s about to have a heart attack isn’t exactly going to make me feel better. I have told her that when we go back to university (in about a week) I am taking her to see someone, that I can’t act as her counsellor 24/7, that I need to start taking care of myself for once. Whether she goes ahead with it, time will tell, but I’m definitely not going to be as lenient as I was before, for both our sakes.
2) Going back to university. I never thought I’d say it but I think I’d prefer to stay at home. My parents are arguing even more due to the impending divorce, my dad still wanting things to be how they were. My relationship with my dad even tenser because of this, he still can’t accept the fact that I’m independent, that I’m no longer his ‘little girl’. I constantly feel smothered when I’m at home and that never bodes well for my mood, yet I’d prefer to be here than at my house in Durham. I don’t know why exactly I’m feeling so apprehensive. A part of it is my course, I’m not sure it’s the right course for me anymore. A part of it is my housemates. I’ve come to realise during this summer how different I am to them. Apart from maybe two (out of five) of them, they are very naive about life, very innocent and if thrust into the cruel world on their own would never cope. I guess I feel there may be some clashes. Also if I happen to have one of my bad moments, they really would have no idea what to do.
3) Henrik. I hate to think this but I can’t deny there’s a connection. With me thinking my head was now sorted I got back into contact. He had been sorting his own life out and I gave him the chance to vent out about issues, just like he used to do with me. Now, despite knowing he finds it hard to get online as regularly as he used to due to his working hours, I’m finding that I’m waiting, willing, for him to come online. If he does, we talk about everything other than what we should be talking about, we’ll talk till early hours of the morning, decide to go to sleep and I find myself lying in bed wanting to talk to him once again. Exactly how things were before. He hasn’t mentioned the email I sent, hasn’t mentioned anything of substance and I think it’s about time I bring it up. It can’t be a coincidence that when I cut contact from him I started to feel ok again and after I start talking to him again my moods deteriorate. I hate to think that he could be affecting me like that, the thought that I would be better off not ever talking to him again...I’ve decided, the next time I get a chance, I’ll bring up everything we need to talk about, my feelings, his feelings, and get things cleared up once and for all, then, then I’ll decide what to do.
There are so many things I could go into that haven’t been mentioned but I feel this post is already long enough. I can almost guarantee that I will be updating more regularly now, things right now seem like they can only get worse.
Showing posts with label Loneliness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Loneliness. Show all posts
Friday, 26 September 2008
Saturday, 19 July 2008
Yet Another Thing Stolen from my Life
“What do you do when the only one who can make you stop crying is the one who made you cry?”
I mentioned in my last post that the reason today was such a shit day was because I pushed away the one person in my life who has the ability to make me smile even when I’m at my lowest...Henrik.
He is still the only one I feel that I have told willingly about my depression and definitely the only one I can talk to about it without holding anything back, but today I sent him an email explaining why I think it’ll be best if we stopped all contact. It doesn’t make sense does it; I mean it is pretty obvious that I care for him, quite a lot. I’ll even finally admit that it’s bordering on love, but really, I feel this was the best thing to do.
Before I go into the reasons behind my decision I’ll fill in a little about our history. We have been talking to each other for about a year and a half now and our conversations, mostly on MSN, were always fun, completely random, carefree. We would spend hours talking, day after day just putting the world to right. When I finally accepted that I had depression I felt like I had to tell him and it actually came easy to me. We would talk about it, I’d release the emotion I kept hidden from everybody else, he’d listen and be there for me to vent out. As my depression became worse our conversations quickly moved from relaxed to tense. The things I talked about became more serious, I would talk to him while feeling suicidal and he would try and talk me out of it. This became more and more frequent until I realised I had become completely reliant on him. He told me that he found the situation hard, hated the fact that he couldn’t do anything to take this depression away, he said that the suicidal moments always upset him and I began to feel so bad for burdening him with everything.
Obviously he wasn’t online for me to talk to every hour of the day and I would start to send him emails while he was offline. I became this needy, emotional, insecure person and I hated it. Every conversation lately had been depression based and I had to stop it somehow. I don’t want to be this pathetic and weak person, I want things to go back to how they were when we actually had fun talking to each other but I can’t see it happening, so instead of bringing him down even further I’ve decided to stop completely.
My heart is practically screaming at me but it was something I had been thinking about for some time now. I do care about him and I don’t want to be responsible for bringing him down anymore. He’s better off not talking to me and so I’ve put it into action. I’m still feeling crap about it, it’s going to take a while to get over but hopefully it’ll help me move on with my life.
I had never told him how much he meant to me because I could tell that his feelings back weren’t as strong. I was, and still am, living in a dream world, hoping that he would say the words that I longed him to say. I need to get a grip, go back to reality and this is the only way I can see it happening.
I blame my depression for pushing him away. I hate the fact that it’s controlled so many aspects of my life and now it’s reduced me to a lovesick shell of a woman. But there is some good in all this. I now have an added determination to overcome this condition. If I can overcome it and become the woman I used to be then maybe I could get back in contact with Henrik. How long this determination lasts before the depression also takes that away from me, only time will tell.
I mentioned in my last post that the reason today was such a shit day was because I pushed away the one person in my life who has the ability to make me smile even when I’m at my lowest...Henrik.
He is still the only one I feel that I have told willingly about my depression and definitely the only one I can talk to about it without holding anything back, but today I sent him an email explaining why I think it’ll be best if we stopped all contact. It doesn’t make sense does it; I mean it is pretty obvious that I care for him, quite a lot. I’ll even finally admit that it’s bordering on love, but really, I feel this was the best thing to do.
Before I go into the reasons behind my decision I’ll fill in a little about our history. We have been talking to each other for about a year and a half now and our conversations, mostly on MSN, were always fun, completely random, carefree. We would spend hours talking, day after day just putting the world to right. When I finally accepted that I had depression I felt like I had to tell him and it actually came easy to me. We would talk about it, I’d release the emotion I kept hidden from everybody else, he’d listen and be there for me to vent out. As my depression became worse our conversations quickly moved from relaxed to tense. The things I talked about became more serious, I would talk to him while feeling suicidal and he would try and talk me out of it. This became more and more frequent until I realised I had become completely reliant on him. He told me that he found the situation hard, hated the fact that he couldn’t do anything to take this depression away, he said that the suicidal moments always upset him and I began to feel so bad for burdening him with everything.
Obviously he wasn’t online for me to talk to every hour of the day and I would start to send him emails while he was offline. I became this needy, emotional, insecure person and I hated it. Every conversation lately had been depression based and I had to stop it somehow. I don’t want to be this pathetic and weak person, I want things to go back to how they were when we actually had fun talking to each other but I can’t see it happening, so instead of bringing him down even further I’ve decided to stop completely.
My heart is practically screaming at me but it was something I had been thinking about for some time now. I do care about him and I don’t want to be responsible for bringing him down anymore. He’s better off not talking to me and so I’ve put it into action. I’m still feeling crap about it, it’s going to take a while to get over but hopefully it’ll help me move on with my life.
I had never told him how much he meant to me because I could tell that his feelings back weren’t as strong. I was, and still am, living in a dream world, hoping that he would say the words that I longed him to say. I need to get a grip, go back to reality and this is the only way I can see it happening.
I blame my depression for pushing him away. I hate the fact that it’s controlled so many aspects of my life and now it’s reduced me to a lovesick shell of a woman. But there is some good in all this. I now have an added determination to overcome this condition. If I can overcome it and become the woman I used to be then maybe I could get back in contact with Henrik. How long this determination lasts before the depression also takes that away from me, only time will tell.
Sunday, 13 July 2008
Birthday Dilemmas
“After all, what are birthdays? Here today and gone tomorrow.”
- Eeyore (from A. A. Milne’s ‘Winnie the Pooh’)
Another year gone. I’ve now officially been on this planet for 19 years and I’m trying to work out where the time has gone. This is the problem I have with birthdays, I can’t help looking back and reflecting on what I’ve done since the last one, and my thoughts aren’t sitting well with me. On one hand you could say that I’ve achieved a fair bit during the last year; I’ve finally come to terms with my depression, I’m getting weekly counselling sessions during term time, I’m slowly getting over my views on anti-depression medication, I’ve successfully completed my first year in university...all things which show that I’m moving on in my life, so why do I feel that the opposite is true?
My counsellor and doctors would probably tell you that my battle with depression has moved on immensely since my last birthday. I don’t disagree with them that accepting that I suffer from the condition is a big step in the right direction, but looking back, I can’t see what has changed. For example, I still can’t bring myself to tell people about my illness, I still have major problems when it comes to talking face-to-face with someone about my feelings; I hide emotions and hide my true self. I feel that the depression itself has gotten worse. Compared to last year, my general happiness is much lower; my depressive episodes are more frequent, last longer and are more severe. I am finding myself feeling vulnerable and considering suicide far more often than the previous year and I have found myself coming far too close to giving into these thoughts.
So here I am, on my birthday, sitting here desperately wanting to cry but my body, so used to hiding such emotion, is refusing to let the tears fall. I feel like a failure. I’m letting this illness take over my life. It’s making me lie to my friends and family, it’s causing me so much conflict in my head that I rarely get over six hours sleep at night, basically it makes me feel shit and I can’t see it changing. It makes me wonder, what will I be thinking in a year’s time? Will I be looking back like I always do and seeing an improvement in my life, or will I be seeing how my depression has taken over more of my life and be in an even bigger state of despair and worthlessness?
One question is even more prominent.
Will I even be here in a year’s time...?
- Eeyore (from A. A. Milne’s ‘Winnie the Pooh’)
Another year gone. I’ve now officially been on this planet for 19 years and I’m trying to work out where the time has gone. This is the problem I have with birthdays, I can’t help looking back and reflecting on what I’ve done since the last one, and my thoughts aren’t sitting well with me. On one hand you could say that I’ve achieved a fair bit during the last year; I’ve finally come to terms with my depression, I’m getting weekly counselling sessions during term time, I’m slowly getting over my views on anti-depression medication, I’ve successfully completed my first year in university...all things which show that I’m moving on in my life, so why do I feel that the opposite is true?
My counsellor and doctors would probably tell you that my battle with depression has moved on immensely since my last birthday. I don’t disagree with them that accepting that I suffer from the condition is a big step in the right direction, but looking back, I can’t see what has changed. For example, I still can’t bring myself to tell people about my illness, I still have major problems when it comes to talking face-to-face with someone about my feelings; I hide emotions and hide my true self. I feel that the depression itself has gotten worse. Compared to last year, my general happiness is much lower; my depressive episodes are more frequent, last longer and are more severe. I am finding myself feeling vulnerable and considering suicide far more often than the previous year and I have found myself coming far too close to giving into these thoughts.
So here I am, on my birthday, sitting here desperately wanting to cry but my body, so used to hiding such emotion, is refusing to let the tears fall. I feel like a failure. I’m letting this illness take over my life. It’s making me lie to my friends and family, it’s causing me so much conflict in my head that I rarely get over six hours sleep at night, basically it makes me feel shit and I can’t see it changing. It makes me wonder, what will I be thinking in a year’s time? Will I be looking back like I always do and seeing an improvement in my life, or will I be seeing how my depression has taken over more of my life and be in an even bigger state of despair and worthlessness?
One question is even more prominent.
Will I even be here in a year’s time...?
Tuesday, 8 July 2008
Have you ever been alone in a crowded room?
“Sometimes when I say ‘Oh I’m fine’ I want someone to look at me in the eyes and say ‘Tell the truth’”
Nights are when I feel worst and these last couple of nights have been no exception. Right now I’m writing this purely to distract myself. It’s hard for me to describe exactly what I’m feeling; an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness, the lack of energy to simply go on, extreme loneliness despite knowing my friends are only a phone call away...
Maybe that’s the problem. I know how the conversation would go. They’d ask me what was wrong and the facade would go up. They’d hang up thinking I was fine, I’d hang up wishing they had probed deeper. This is where the hypocritical nature of my problem appears. I want people to know that I suffer from this, I want them to know that actually I’m not fine, I want them to see what I’m going through but at the same time I don’t want them to know, I want them to carry on believing that I’m a happy stable person. I’ve realised that I’m not going to tell them unless one day they decide to probe a little deeper, question me. Out of the four people who know about my illness, only one has been told willingly.
The first person to know was my mother, I told her that winter night after my early morning adventure. I couldn’t exactly deny that there was something up; I was in a complete state. Even though she suffers from depression herself and I’m very close to her, I find it very hard to talk to her about it. I never go into any detail and I have never mentioned how bad it actually is. I could never tell her that I consider suicide for example, and definitely couldn’t tell her how close I have actually got to it. When I feel like this, I can’t bring myself to go to her, I can’t let her see me because I don’t want to upset her.
Shortly after my Christmas episode I told Henrik, the only person I have told willingly. Now you can probably guess from the name, Henrik is Swedish. Being in different countries, we talk through MSN mostly. At the time, I needed someone to talk to. I had only just accepted that I had depression and he seemed the best person to help. Talking through MSN where you don’t see the person’s face and can’t hear their voice makes talking about my feelings so much easier. The main reason I hold back on telling people is because I don’t want them to judge me or suddenly view me differently. I don’t have that problem with Henrik. I put the fact that I’m still here purely down to him. He has saved me on a number of occasions though he probably doesn’t know it. There are many things I wish I could tell him but there are some things, even over MSN, I still can’t bring myself to say. The issue of course with MSN is I can only talk to him if I’m at a computer and he’s online. Lately he hasn’t been online as much due to work and other issues, meaning when I hit a down spell and he isn’t online, like now, I have to cope without him, something that is getting harder to do. Right now I would give anything to just talk to him; instead I’m left here feeling alone.
The third person to know was Amanda. I knew that when I went back to university after the Christmas break I would need someone up there to know, just so if I did try to do something stupid, someone would be there to look out for me and stop me. I told her because I felt I had to, not because I necessarily wanted to. I chose her out of all my university friends because I thought she would have the best chance of understanding. She suffers from anorexia and had confided in me a number of times. A lot of what she was feeling, I could relate to and so the decision to choose her came pretty easy. Actually telling her was another matter. In the end, she found out through a rather longwinded email (as you can see, I do tend to go on a bit sometimes). I don’t talk to her much about it, I still find it hard to talk to someone face-to-face when I’m in a state, but after Henrik being online less, I’ve had no choice but to rely on her a little more. I’m getting a little better at it, but now, me being back home in Wales and her living in London and currently jetting off to Zanzibar, knowing that she knows offers little comfort.
And then the fourth person is my counsellor. Not really sure he counts, but there we go. I’ve been seeing him for about six months now but as I see him through the university, I’m currently not having any sessions and I won’t start up again until October. Even though I find it hard to talk to him, still not over my face-to-face issues, he is easier to talk to than others. I don’t mind crying in front of him or showing how much everything is affecting me, and not having those weekly let-out sessions are definitely effecting me.
So I’m stuck with feeling alone, in need of a hug and in need of a shoulder to cry on. I often go through all the people I know and I wonder whether I could actually tell any of them. Some definitely wouldn’t understand, most would change how they treated me. Truth is I’m scared of letting people know, despite how badly I need it to happen. I guess all I can wish for is someday someone will see through my facade and that that day comes soon because I’m not sure how long I can take this loneliness.
Nights are when I feel worst and these last couple of nights have been no exception. Right now I’m writing this purely to distract myself. It’s hard for me to describe exactly what I’m feeling; an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness, the lack of energy to simply go on, extreme loneliness despite knowing my friends are only a phone call away...
Maybe that’s the problem. I know how the conversation would go. They’d ask me what was wrong and the facade would go up. They’d hang up thinking I was fine, I’d hang up wishing they had probed deeper. This is where the hypocritical nature of my problem appears. I want people to know that I suffer from this, I want them to know that actually I’m not fine, I want them to see what I’m going through but at the same time I don’t want them to know, I want them to carry on believing that I’m a happy stable person. I’ve realised that I’m not going to tell them unless one day they decide to probe a little deeper, question me. Out of the four people who know about my illness, only one has been told willingly.
The first person to know was my mother, I told her that winter night after my early morning adventure. I couldn’t exactly deny that there was something up; I was in a complete state. Even though she suffers from depression herself and I’m very close to her, I find it very hard to talk to her about it. I never go into any detail and I have never mentioned how bad it actually is. I could never tell her that I consider suicide for example, and definitely couldn’t tell her how close I have actually got to it. When I feel like this, I can’t bring myself to go to her, I can’t let her see me because I don’t want to upset her.
Shortly after my Christmas episode I told Henrik, the only person I have told willingly. Now you can probably guess from the name, Henrik is Swedish. Being in different countries, we talk through MSN mostly. At the time, I needed someone to talk to. I had only just accepted that I had depression and he seemed the best person to help. Talking through MSN where you don’t see the person’s face and can’t hear their voice makes talking about my feelings so much easier. The main reason I hold back on telling people is because I don’t want them to judge me or suddenly view me differently. I don’t have that problem with Henrik. I put the fact that I’m still here purely down to him. He has saved me on a number of occasions though he probably doesn’t know it. There are many things I wish I could tell him but there are some things, even over MSN, I still can’t bring myself to say. The issue of course with MSN is I can only talk to him if I’m at a computer and he’s online. Lately he hasn’t been online as much due to work and other issues, meaning when I hit a down spell and he isn’t online, like now, I have to cope without him, something that is getting harder to do. Right now I would give anything to just talk to him; instead I’m left here feeling alone.
The third person to know was Amanda. I knew that when I went back to university after the Christmas break I would need someone up there to know, just so if I did try to do something stupid, someone would be there to look out for me and stop me. I told her because I felt I had to, not because I necessarily wanted to. I chose her out of all my university friends because I thought she would have the best chance of understanding. She suffers from anorexia and had confided in me a number of times. A lot of what she was feeling, I could relate to and so the decision to choose her came pretty easy. Actually telling her was another matter. In the end, she found out through a rather longwinded email (as you can see, I do tend to go on a bit sometimes). I don’t talk to her much about it, I still find it hard to talk to someone face-to-face when I’m in a state, but after Henrik being online less, I’ve had no choice but to rely on her a little more. I’m getting a little better at it, but now, me being back home in Wales and her living in London and currently jetting off to Zanzibar, knowing that she knows offers little comfort.
And then the fourth person is my counsellor. Not really sure he counts, but there we go. I’ve been seeing him for about six months now but as I see him through the university, I’m currently not having any sessions and I won’t start up again until October. Even though I find it hard to talk to him, still not over my face-to-face issues, he is easier to talk to than others. I don’t mind crying in front of him or showing how much everything is affecting me, and not having those weekly let-out sessions are definitely effecting me.
So I’m stuck with feeling alone, in need of a hug and in need of a shoulder to cry on. I often go through all the people I know and I wonder whether I could actually tell any of them. Some definitely wouldn’t understand, most would change how they treated me. Truth is I’m scared of letting people know, despite how badly I need it to happen. I guess all I can wish for is someday someone will see through my facade and that that day comes soon because I’m not sure how long I can take this loneliness.
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