On the outside...
Posted by Londongirl29
27th Jun 2012

Depression is like doing an eternal battle with your own head, tortured by your own brain and haunted by your own memories. Therapists try to teach you to be in the moment, for us, the past is too painful, the future too veiled and dark but the moment is sometimes too frightening and real a place to reside in for long either, when that's the plain truth where do people recommend you go in your own head? Where can you go in your own mind that's safe? Everything seems hopeless and you cannot take any more pain. Your system is poisoning itself with destructive thoughts so you cut your own flesh in a bid to feel something, anything other than your own emotional pain because physical pain is better, the blood feels as though you are being cleansed and your frustrations and hurt and self hatred are temporarily satiated. The anxiety is like a fist in your stomach and nausea washes over you in waves as you fear the absolute worst and you know that no one and nothing can possibly help you. The harming makes me feel sick, I am ashamed, I know why I do it, and I just wish I didn't. It feels sometimes like the universe hates you, like it resents you, that's why you have to suffer, you must have done something to deserve this. As depression tightens its grip you see yourself as fading out of existence, slowly but surely you will disappear there is no place for you here, you don't belong, if you did you wouldn't feel like this, everything would be easy like it seems to be for everyone else. You desperately search for an answer on why and how yet you can't find an answer no one knows what to say so they don't say anything.

My depression started when I was young, I was lonely and I always feel lonely. My father was an alcoholic and when he wasn't at work he was in the pub, eventually staggering in and verbally abusing us. He said things to me and my sister that fathers should never say to their daughters, he hates us, we were sl*gs*, sl*ts, he said he wanted us to be raped and that he wanted us to die. He hurt us too, he fractured my jaw and I lost a tooth, he pinned me to the ground and burnt me with an iron. He finally died earlier this year and I'm glad, I had almost 29 years of him and his vileness and he has ruined me. My mother did her best, I think she always tried to see the best in him, made excuses for him, but I resent her for letting him treat us like that. From the earliest age all I wanted to do was leave or die, I didn't mind which, I just wanted to be free of him. My mother and her cousin (my second mum) brought us up (as my father was unhelpful and uninterested) but when the cousin died 5 years ago I felt like I had died too, the world kept on moving but my world, my life, had ended. It felt like forever but I moved on, I think about her everyday and I miss her everyday but I still talk to her, I know she would never have left me willingly so as a result she is still around me, helping me. My mother has recently had breast cancer, she was ill whilst my father slowly killed himself with drink and recently my relationship broke down. Normality as I knew it disappeared, I wanted to die again and I was harming all over again. I am almost 30 and I self harm, I am ashamed. I will one day have to explain my scars to people, at the moment I can hide them but I know my mother saw them the other day, I saw the look of disgust on her face for a split second. I know I'm hurting her by cutting myself but at the moment, I'm hurting inside too much to stop.

I've had counsellors and CBT and finally my meds are starting to work, I haven't been transformed into a 'happy person' but I feel more like a person that I ever did before. I can't see the future yet and that scares me but do 'normal people' see a future or do mentally healthy people just go with the flow? My depression means I have to reinvent myself, I have to become a different person, a better and stronger person, but I don't know what person to be. There are no counsellors or therapists to tell you this, if you fight your 'black dog' will you eventually and naturally become the person you should be or is it a choice, I have no idea.

My GP was wonderful and at my lowest points I contacted the Samaritans whom I cannot praise highly enough, just having someone ask me how I fell and knowing I could be honest was, as clichéd as this sounds, like a weight had been lifted. I could cry freely and I could admit things that I couldn't admit to anyone, they simply listened and eventually I felt calmer, I slept.

I feel incredibly isolated; the only person I see outside of work is my mum. My friends sadly hardly bother with me and I am desperately trying to fix this. I'm anxious and depressed and not by nature a 'joiner'. I don't know where to start with making friends and I really don't think I am brave enough. Trying to find a support group for depressives and harmers anywhere near me is a nightmare, there just isn't anywhere. I just want people like me that I can talk to. I want to do some volunteer work when I feel more stable, possibly for the Samaritans and I am trying to pluck up the courage to go to an exercise class. My relationship, with the man that told me he wanted to marry me and wanted children with me ended it and my friends quickly moved in with their own boyfriends within a matter of weeks. It's been two weeks since I admitted to my best friend how low I was, that I was cutting myself to ribbons and that I didn't want to wake up anymore, and I haven't had so much as an email from her.

I desperately want to heal but its hard going when you feel completely alone. I can't give into this; I just wish more of us could get together, those of us that understand. If the community wants us kept hidden and insists that we stand on the outside and look in then we should form our own community. I don't want to glorify mental health issues but those of us suffering on a daily basis are the walking wounded, hurt beyond recognition by others who either couldn't help it or that didn't care enough to love us and treat us as they should or that fate has cruelly punished us when we cannot see what we are being punished for. We are scarred by our experiences and emotions and our physical scars represent our pain and our battle wounds. I want to help others, even if it's just by listening to them, as the Samaritans did for me in my desperate moments. If all of us who have suffered can each help even one person still suffering then maybe one day we won't be treated like freaks.

I want to get better, I want a life. I am sick of being on the outside watching other people living their lives whilst I contemplate where I went wrong and being terrified that things will never get better and that I will never get my happy ending. People suffering now should get together and support others, no one should ever have to feel that life is worthless and feel the desolation of isolation.

Love and light xx

Share Email a friend Be the first to comment on this blog