Depression Diaries: Finding My Voice

These last few months have seen my plans fall apart at the seams. Any attempt at trying to express what I truly felt has fallen flat. It’s like I am back 3/4 years, where I couldn’t see any way out. It’s like I could think about doing things, but I didn’t see the point in doing anything about it.

I have failed in everything I have ever wanted to do. And it is something which is the focus of my thoughts during every ‘downtime’ that I have. Times when I should be relaxing, whether it’s trying to watch TV, read a book or even just try to sleep. I hit a brick wall, as my mind won’t rest. Thoughts about every little thing that I could have said or did, that could have upset another person. I feel like the most idiotic person in the world. And that is all I can see, an idiot who really shouldn’t spend anytime with anyone, because she’d just waste their time, and upset them.

It’s never anything that anyone says or does, it’s not personal. People don’t need to do anything to set me off. I do it all myself. It is about the only thing I seem to do these days. Running to the toilets at work to cry, because I made a mistake. Having another sleepless night because my mistake causes work for someone else, and that makes me a failure. I cry to myself because I turn down night out after night out, because I don’t want to drag anyone else down. I don’t want to be responsible for bringing other people down.

People around me don’t know this. Because I don’t talk about it, because talking about it has always made me feel weak and uncomfortable. I stopped visiting doctors because there are people with real illnesses who need that appointment more than me. So, I sit and dwell, and for months and months, I haven’t been able to get any thoughts out of my head. And that makes me feel worse. It really is an awful cycle. And it is one that is so hard to get out of.

That’s why I am writing this, here. Over the years, this blog has held a lot of my thoughts and hopes on life in general. I felt that this would be a good place to be honest. To speak about how I feel, and how depression doesn’t just go away. It is an illness that can make someone feel so alone. When that happens, it is hard to try and confide in those around you. I thought that if I spoke honestly, maybe it would reach someone who felt like I do. Maybe it would help them, to see that they are not alone.

Need help? I recommend MIND who have helped me very recently.

Falling

Here I am
Standing alone
Degrading thoughts pounding my mind
Feeling like the worst person, for doing nothing
Looking for someone to lean on, and finding myself falling to the cold ground
No one to pick me up
No strength to do it myself
Focusing on past failures
Unable to see a future
Feeling worthless and utterly alone

I cry
My eyes become raw
My head starts to ache
My heart is broken,
There is no way out
This cloud won’t clear

________________________

Journal entry from 2008, when I was at college, when depression started to hit me hard. I was struggling for something to post today, which lead to me reading through some old journals. When I was low, I always turned to either writing or drawing to help me let out my feelings. The best thing about being able to express things in such a way, that I have the opportunity to look back at everything that I felt, however melodramatic it may seem.

Depression is hard. But it can sometimes make me feel better to see that I can get better when things get bad, that I can actually see that things can get better. It’s about finding ways to cope with the ups and downs of life.

A Confession About Online Expression

I spend a lot of time online. Which is evident, if you follow me on any social network. I used it as an outlay, as a way to let of some steam. And most people I know, appreciate why. But some, do not. They dub me an attention seeker, and disregard what I feel and express as nonsense, as a result.

I turned to the Internet when I first suffered from depression, about 5 years ago. I didn’t know who to speak to, and I didn’t want to let anyone down. It sounds ridiculous, but when you observe the people closest to you doing well, and getting on with things, you feel pathetic that you can’t do the same. So you don’t speak to those around you, for fear that you get pointed out for being as childish as you feel. So, I turned to the Internet. To blogs and forums. To places I could interact with people, and not feel so alone in my dilemma. I started writing blogs about my life, and used sites like MySpace as an accompaniment. I complained, i laughed, I spoke about the things that noone around me understood. I found friends, whose kind words advised me through some difficult times, because they had experiences similar.

Depression and anxiety never truly leaves. As a person, you have to recognise signs and learn how to deal with it. Which can make the condition bearable. However, as a person grows and changes, their mental state also grows and changes. You find yourself in situations which you can’t explain, you try to find a logical answer, but it doesn’t come. You can find your anxiety creating problems in work, and in general life. But, trying to get others to understand that you don’t know what’s wrong, is difficult. Especially in work places, or situations where people want to help.

People can mis-understand the lack of answers, as laziness, that you don’t want help. It’s not that a person doesn’t need or want help, they just don’t know what it is that is wrong. It’s like being lost in the middle of a field in a thick fog. You can’t see where you are going, nor the direction that you need to go. And every day is the same. A new day brings a new field, and sometimes the fog is thicker than other times.

And that’s where I am. A field filled with fog, and I need some clarity. Sometimes writing clears that fog a little. Be it short tweets, Facebook status updates or blog entries. It gives me the chance to try and wrestle with my emotions without fear of embarrassment. There is not confrontation, which I feel is my big problem. I am at the stage, where I fear that every person I talk to hates me and wants to scream at me. That is a horrible place to be. I don’t know how to silence these thoughts, and noone I ask for help seems to understand.

Writing is my way of saying what I need to, without the confrontation. And that is the main reason I do it. I’m just not used to people I actually know reading what I think, so the confrontation ends up happening. And yes, ‘how are you’, is confrontational in my head, because I don’t know how to answer you, and I panic.

Considering Worth

I am one of the many people who has grown up with a low sense of self-worth. It is a creation for the over indulged masses, whose thoughts and feelings are considered more valuable than any physical work they can do.

After thinking about it, this something that is created by people who simply are not busy enough. It is hard to think self-indulgently if you have to work manual labour all day, every day. But people in developed countries, rarely work such demanding jobs, so their energy goes into analyzing their dreams and various other pieces of tedium. It is not to disrespect those who feel depression and over analyse things, but it does bear thinking if they would still behave in those manners if they were worked harder.

Sounds silly, but it has been thought previously, that people get depressed because they have the time to get depressed. Which is interesting. I am a person who has suffered from depression, to the stage that suicide was considered. Why did I feel like that? Because I put overwhelming pressure on myself, and felt lonely. Loneliness was brought on because I lived in a big city on my own, with noone to talk to. I only had my thoughts, and this gave me time to get depressed.

Also, the developed world also has a way of looking down on people who believe in themselves and get things done. How many kids get bullied for simply doing their homework and behaving well? So, if this is mentality kids are growing into, where the underachiever is the best, then is it a wonder people have low self worth. This could also lead into a bad work ethic, where people are lethargic, which leads to poor satisfaction of life and depression. And when you get into the deep, dark hole of depression, it is hard to escape.

Give yourself more to do, you will have less time to be depressed. Don’t lessen the value of hardwork, as that spreads your depression on to others. This may not make a lot of sense, but it was in my head.

 

Feel the positivity.

Just had a decent day today, so I thought I’d spread some cheer.

Happiness is one of the most contagious things in the world. And it is also better for you and everything you do. If you are happier, you are more likely to achieve what you want to. I do think that is mostly because when your mood is better, you are more open to the world.

But everyone has a bad day. The best thing to do, if you have a bad day, is to soldier on. It will get better. You will find something that will make your day seem better, and that good feeling you get doing that something, will spread and effect the rest of your life. So don’t beat yourself up when you do have a bad time, just appreciate that the bad times are there so we can make the best of a really good day.

And if you feel happy, pass it on. That smile that you make as you type on your keyboard will show in how you express yourself, others can sense it, and it may make them happier too. So I have a great day, and I hope anyone reading has a good day too.

 

Sad days

Looking through my blog, I found this entry, from about 7/8 months ago. https://sueriot.wordpress.com/2010/03/11/my-home-its-where-im-fae/

Why am I mentioning it. Well, I finish work tonight to find out that the Paper Mill was set on fire, and is basically destroyed.

This is something which marks the history of the town I grew up in. I always like the olf building, and how its two chimneys looked over everything. After a fire which lasted over 5 hours, the place is destroyed. 1914, the building was made, it was 96 years old, and it’s gone. This is weird, because I feel this sense of loss. I mean it was a building, none of my family ever worked there, why should I be upset?

Reccently I have really come to appreciate where I live, because of the countryside, and because of the history. History is what make places different, it gives places a sense of purpose. But at the moment, the powers that be, seem to be set on building houses on top of everything. That was what was supposed to happen to the site where the paper mill was sited. It was supposed to be flattened and turned into housing. Housing, not for the people of Fife, but for Edinburgh snobs. *sigh*

Anyways, the owners have been wanting it flattened for years. And it is suspected that it is an inside job, with the council stalling, as people wanted to turn it into a historical center. The owners had to pay for security, so the burned it down, and made the decision a lot easier.

Welcome to another week, coinciding with me being ill and not able to face going outside at all. So been lying in my bed, making screen caps and just doing nothing. *sigh*

The meds I’m on are supposed to stop me feeling like this. My mum and dad, think its something I ate, which made me ill, but I have a feeling its all cause I work myself up into some kind of stupid state. I mean I try to think, that I’ll be ok, and its just the ‘blues’, but ignoring the feeling don’t make anything any easier. I can’t face work, but I risk losing my job if I phone in sick. So I just end up making myself go to work, ill. And that’s not good for anyone. So do I risk my job by staying off, or by going in and end up crying at the first negative thing a customer says.

See, I am stressing over something, I shouldn’t have stress about. Plenty of other people don’t give a shit about work, and I make my self more ill thinking about having to take time off. I do my head in completely.

So I sat and listen to music today