An update
It’s been a while since I’ve used my blog;
and it feels great not to have needed it. But now I really want to share something with you, because I feel like so many of you relate to how I’ve felt, and so many of my posts. This is a post I never ever thought I’d be lucky enough to write. But, here I am, writing the magical words I never thought possible: I am no longer suffering from depression.
My recovery started with a terrifying break down (that I posted about on here). My depression was really bad for a period of time, and my anxiety was off the charts. I had suffered with severe depression for four or five years and had told no one, and I came to a point where I could no longer function. I had my first real panic attack and it was completely terrifying. I completely broke down, called my mom (my non-alcoholic parent) during my attack, and I told her I thought I had been experiencing major depression for a while. I told her I needed a break, I couldn’t handle anything anymore. She told me to come home for a week, take some time off university, and after that week, if that wasn’t enough time, I should take the semester off. I went home and realised going back to university would be a mistake. I was broken and anxious and severely depressed.
I agreed to see a life coach/ therapist. I had refused to go for years. But I went. I was terrified, embarrassed and felt guilty for going to someone to talk about my issues when I didn’t feel like I had the right to have issues, or that my issues were important on the grander scale of things. But, I realised, my pain was worth talking about. That’s what therapist are there for. Your problems are real, they matter, and you matter. I went twice a week for a long time, and during my sessions I cried a lot. I had been holding back so much pain for so many years, and was talking openly about it for the first time. It was comforting, exhausting and liberating.
At the time I didn’t think I had changed. But, I began to feel like I wanted to go back to college after the summer, and so I did. I was nervous I would end up back in the dark space when faced with the reality of life: deadlines, social situations, anxiety to do well, and not seeing a therapist every day. However, my therapist suggested that when I went back we could have Skype sessions, and that we could organise them once I was settled in back at college.
I went back, and thats when I realised I was completely changed. I never, EVER thought I’d get better. Ever. Depression had become my normal, and I think I almost wallowed in it. There was some sick comfort in being the way I was (some of you may relate, some of you might think I sound crazy). Don’t misunderstand- it was horrific. I suffered severe depression for probably about five years and didn’t talk to anyone about it, only posted about it on here. I had no energy, cried when I was alone, felt numb, felt little joy in anything, could barely muster the strength to be social or go to class, and when I did, I needed to lay in bed and watch shows for hours and hours afterwards because I was so exhausted. But, now, something had changed. I wanted to socialise, I wanted to participate in things I never wanted to before. I had a new found energy, darkness wasn’t all around. I made a bunch of new friends, challenged myself, and partook in something I never thought I would have the guts to. I felt accomplished, proud and knew I was never going back.
Before University, I had made the mistake of thinking removing myself form the situation at home would heal me. It didn’t. Yes, I didn’t have to face the reality of an alcoholic parent, or be in the same house as the grumpy asshole I perceived (still sometimes do) my father to be when he was sober. That did help a little. But my depression and anxiety wasn’t gone, it only get worse. It was only after I took time off, dealt with my issues and went back to college that I got better. I can’t stress enough how much I didn’t believe people who told me “it gets better”. I thought I would always be severely depressed, it was a part of who I was. But it isn’t any longer. I’ve become independent, grown older, realised that my parents won't be as big an influence on my life if I don’t want them to be, admitted to myself and to my family and my closest friends what I had been experiencing, hit rock bottom (of depression) and built myself up again. And it wasn’t exhausting. It was liberating and gave me energy. Now, I take so much pleasure in being around people, they give me energy rather than drain me of it. I became approachable because I was able to break out of my own bubble of misery and angst by taking the time to, and allowing myself to see a therapist.
So from a girl who never, ever, EVER believed she could get better, I want to tell you guys, it really can get better. And to everyone out there, I regret not getting help sooner because I wasted so many years being in pain. So please, please please get help. I avoided and refused for so long. But I'm living proof that it works. I now know what life can be, and know no one is destined to be depressed forever.
Thank you to everyone who has sent me messages and replied to my posts over the years. I’ll still keep this account open, and check in. The blog is a token of how far I’ve gotten, and I am so proud of myself.
I no longer identify as depressed, and it feels amazing to be able to say that.
and, if any of you need someone to talk to, I’m here.
