Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts

29 June 2020

Fighting Depression

I sometimes compare having depression to being a boxer, fighting in a ring.




Both you and the black dog are in a dance, with you trying to repel the quick jabs and the hard punches.  You duck and dance and deflect and sometimes manage to get a punch in there yourself too.  Some fights you will win, some you will be defeated.  That match is done and the next day you will get up, shake yourself off and fight once again.  





Just like boxing, depression is not a team sport and you are in the ring alone.  No one else can fight for you and your opponent is invisible to everyone but yourself.



Each morning you wake up and find out whether you have a normal day ahead of you, or a fight.  At the back of your mind you hope that one day, it is not a fight to the death.






Image from Unsplash






The things that I have heard people say about those of us who have depression disgust me.



I am not weak.  I am not lazy.  I am not as someone once said to me "wallowing in self pity".  I am strong.  Stronger than they are.  I would challenge anyone who thinks that depression is easy to spend some time in our shoes.



Unless you have had depression, you will never really know just how bad it can get.  How sometimes it feels like your soul is dying and your heart is shattering into a million pieces.  It takes a lot of strength to just get out of bed some days.  But we do.  We get up, we go to work and we hide the monsters that are attacking us just beneath the surface.





I started another battle with the dog today.  Everything I have done so far today has taken effort and strength.  All I want, and still want while I write this post, is to go home, hide under duvet and binge watch Bob Ross.  But instead, I reminded myself of what I have accomplished so far today, with each step a punch, however tiny, against the black dog who seeks to hold me down.



I dragged myself out of bed                  Punch!



I got myself dressed                                 Punch!



I left the house and got on the bus                     Punch! 



I went to work and spoke to client                         Punch! Punch!



I had a telephone conference and put my points across        Punch! Punch! Punch!



I am writing to you now                The black dog starts to back away a little



That sounds like a very normal day and indeed it is, there is nothing special about it at all.  But accomplishing even the smallest step feels impossible when depression hits and your tears are only a blink away.  Everything takes effort and will.



Some days, you know that there is no fight in you.  Not even the smallest steps are possible.  That is ok.  It takes as much strength to admit defeat when you need to, as it does to come out punching.  Even when the day is a loss and I feel like I have slipped down into a deep, black pit with that bloody dog standing at the top, snarling at me; I am silently picking myself up, inch by inch, for the next day.



I have spoken about how having depression is like being a boxer in a ring.  It also involves being an actress.  Whilst I am able the majority of time to have a normal day, go to work and converse with people, the symptoms of my depression are being held back by me, just under the surface.



My smile may not reach my eyes, but I am able to get through a day without anyone noticing that there is anything wrong.  (I do not recommend this to anyone, it isn't healthy.  But it is my way, for now).



Tears are either supressed or fit into time slots when no one else will notice.  I switch off my heart so the heartbreak I feel doesn't show whilst I speak to a client or a colleague.  How do you switch off your heart?   Practice.  Years of practice.  You are however turning yourself into a walking stone, for essentially other people's benefit.



I will finish my working day.  I will go home and allow myself to feel again.  The duvet will come into play while I recharge.  The gentle tones of Bob Ross will sooth my soul.  Tomorrow, if the black dog has stuck around, I will do all this again.



Tell me I am not strong.







28 March 2019

Why Should We Hide Our Mental Health?


break-up-breakup-broken-14303

I am lucky, very lucky in that my episodes of depression and anxiety have lessened a great deal over the past year; with the dark days decreasing in frequency.  Up until this weekend, dysthymia aside (see upcoming blog post with regard to this), I had not had an episode in many months.

I had let my guard down and as such, when a really dark day hit me on Sunday, I was not ready for it.

For as long as I have experienced them, I have always hidden my dark days from others, both in my personal life and at work. 

It is still an expectation of society that we present a "normal" front.  Somehow, people can cope with any physical illness or symptom that you throw at them (generally), but tell people you have anxiety, depression etc etc and you can see them practically running away from you in their eyes.  The "Oh God another crazy" look.

So when a dark day hits, as have millions of others, I have learned over time to hide it as best as I can.  Solitary spaces are found, plans are rearranged, if I have to work, my head switches off into a tunnel vision work mode.  I am careful in what I do and generally try to stay off social media or reading the news.



After not experiencing a dark day for many months, on Sunday, it felt like all of my strategies to cope/hide had been forgotten.  Bad enough the misery, pain and tears, I now had to figure out how to get through visitors at home, travelling on the bus and then going to my fellas, who doesn't really get mental health.  All I wanted, as I ever want, was to curl up in a ball and be alone.

I pulled myself together enough to take the dog a walk, get ready, make nice in front of the guests at home and then went for the bus.  That is where my not used in a while coping mechanisms ran out.

Needless to say, there were silent tears on the bus with people looking at me like I had grown another head.  Maybe I should have chopped my leg off and I would have received a more sympathetic gaze.

But then.  Then I reached the fellas.  I could not hide how I felt.  I didn't have the strength.  I tried holding it in.  I tried passing it off as simply having a bad mood day.  I tried brushing it aside.  He saw straight through me and that day, barriers down, I let him.

He knows nothing about mental health and does not understand it.  But he asked me to tell me how I felt rather than just stay silent and suffer "Use your words Vic".  He understood that he could not improve how I felt, so just listened to me, didn't judge me and held me.

While my dark day continues to the end of the evening, the pressure of having to hide was gone and the talking frankly about it (and cuddles of course) did bring me comfort.

My question is this.  Why, when we are already going through so much, when it is hard enough just to leave our bed, are we catering to other people first and how they feel?  Making sure that they are comfortable around us?


When my dark day hits I feel completely alone in the world.  I feel alien.  I wonder how quickly I could get over or how much less stress and pain I would feel if I did not have to hide it?

Why should we?  Why can we not admit that today is not mentally a good day.  Why can we not say "Today I am struggling a bit, so bear with me". 

Use that sick day when we need to. 

Not say I'm fine to someone who notices instead of saying I'm hurting and maybe get a much needed hug.

I am not hiding any more.  If I am not feeling well and have a cold, I tell people I have a cold.  If I am having a dark day, I will tell people the truth.  Enough. 


21 March 2019

Stopping Smoking - Can It Change You As a Person?

Just a little musing on the blog today and a question:  Has anyone experienced a real change in their personality, mental health or general mental wellbeing since they stopping smoking cigarettes?


Image by roegger from Pixabay
First and foremost, let me say that I am not one of those irritating ex smokers who suddenly think that cigarettes are the plague of the earth and shout loudly and regularly from the rooftops of how disgusting smoking is.

I MISS IT.  I miss it so much.  I miss the after dinner cigarette, I miss the pleasurable addition of smoking when having a glass of wine or a cocktail; I miss the temporary calmness they would give me if I was having a bad day.  I miss them.

As a smoker you are well used to all the people that would wax lyrical about how bad it was for your health and how much money it must be costing you etc.  You would feel like wanted to stab them in the eye?  I still feel like that.  Sanctimonious ex smokers can take a hike.

Anyway.  Back to topic.  Physical health and money benefits aside, can't say I have really noticed either yet, I have to say that my mental health and wellbeing has definately changed.

For as long as I can remember, probably my whole adult life, I have had a numbing or  muting of emotions.  General the positive emotions.  Sadness, pain and anxiety I never had a problem with.  How typical. 

Feelings of anticipation, excitement, joy, happiness, feelings of just being damn normal, were just not really there.  I said the words and played out the emotions for people, but I never felt them.  I knew what they felt like because I used to experience them, but hadn't in many many years.

Not feeling, felt normal.  All the bright colours of emotions just did not live within me, except the black that occasionally would overtake me.  Everything was just muted.

Image by Alexandra Haynak from Pixabay


The only reason that I knew that I was not "normal", if anyone ever really is, is that on the occasional day, I felt everything.  It felt wonderful.  I would just wake up one day and experience a full day of normal feelings.  The world became exciting and full of wonderment.  Sadly, the next day, I went back to normal, my normal.

Not to tempt fate here (please fate, I'll be good I promise), but after around four weeks of not smoking, all of these feelings have come back.  I feel genuine happiness.  I feel excited when plans are made.  I feel anticipation when something good and new is about to happen.  I feel.   I feel everything.

Is this an effect of stopping smoking?  It would a be a very large coincidence if it was not related. 

My question I guess is very specific as I do not know anyone else who lived with the muting of emotions that I did.  I am sure that there is a name for it but I do not know what it is.

Whatever the reason, the world is full of colour again.  I look forward to each day, whatever it may hold and there is always now, some happiness to be found.  Even in the smallest corner.

29 December 2018

Why I Refuse To Make A New Years Resolution



I don't believe in making resolutions at New Year.  I don't see the point.  Change, if it is something that you really want, comes in its own time and at the right moment.  It cannot be forced.   

What I am doing this year and what I think we all should do, is look back over the past year and look at the positives in it.  Look at the happy moments, look at the things that you have learnt throughout the year, be it about yourself, about others or more about what interests you.

I don't see the point in putting pressure on yourself to lose weight, change your personality, change your love life status, change who you are.  Change, if you wish change at all, has to be organic, natural and must come from the heart.  That is where happiness starts.

What is the point is ending a year telling yourself that you are not good enough?  That you need to change?  Work on yourself and change (if you want it) will happen.  You are always good enough.

There have been changes in me in the past year.  All have taken time, all have come organically through learning, self reflection and thought.  I know myself so much better at the end of this year than at the start of the last.  

These changes in my outlook, personality and life came slowly.   None were planned and as is so important in change, I only realised the difference in myself after the journey.

  
So looking back at the past year, have I changed?  Absolutely.  I have learned things, I have worked on my soul and my mental health.  I am happier.

This is my positivity list for this year.

  • I swept away previous bad experiences with online dating and found the courage to try again, being wholly me this time (I had feminist in my description instead of just the usual "friendly, happy, sometimes funny" rubbish).
  • I have (with the help of inspiration and motivation of a certain gentleman), embraced the body that I have.  I have explored my sexuality and become a more confident person because of that.
  • I have had less and less anxiety and depression issues as the year has progressed because I have looked inward at the causes, the triggers and talked more when the episodes have happened; instead of hiding them away.
  • I have debated and talked about my thoughts and stances with others and in some cases, changed what I thought as a result, through learning.  I have grown.  See my post on non platforming
  • Though I will always support women, support causes and talk about change and effect for women, I no longer identify as a feminist.  Something I never thought I would say.  This is an ongoing change which may well be reversed in time.  But as it stands, conversation has to be open, not regulated and regimented.
  • I am going back to my roots.  I am writing, slowly, more opinion pieces of what I really think.  It is what makes my happy, feeds my soul and helps me to collect my thoughts, my ideals and what I believe.

None of the above could been achieved with a New Year's resolution.  They came through learning, through reflection and through my heart.  

So instead this year, instead of vowing to join a gym, find a boyfriend or change your personality; celebrate you.  Celebrate your achievements, however small, throughout the year. All this "New Year, New You" rubbish is just that, rubbish.  It brings you down, not raises you up.

The most important journey of your life is to learn who you are.  Learn what makes you happy.  That is the best and most significant thing you will ever do.

xxx 

24 April 2016

Description of a Dark Day

I'm at the start of a dark day.  I can feel it.  The darkness, sweeping in, avoidable; like the tide coming in on a beach.

If you have never suffered from depression, it is hard to understand.  I am lucky.  I get these days, rather than weeks or months.  They happen now and again and they do not affect my life, much.  I am thankful for that.

Earlier in my life, I went through a couple of years experiencing the darkness of depression.  I would not wish  it on anyone.  So I am thankful.  Because I know how bad it can feel.

But, this is not the point of this post.  The point is how to explain what a dark day feels, to someone who doesn't understand depression.  How you can have been having a fantastic day and then suddenly, it hits.  The swift downward spiral.  The way the next day, I am back to myself.


So let me try and explain.  *This is only from my view point.  How I feel.  What I experience.  It is different for everyone.

A deep seated sadness overwhelms you.  There is no rhyme or reason.  You could have been having the best day in the world. and then it hits.  

Your heart hurts.  Your soul hurts.  Fot that time, you question whether you are really happy at all.  Whether your life is just a mask to cover the hurt that is overwhelming you.  You cry. A lot. 

You are scared.  That maybe this time. the pain will stick.  That you will get stuck in this world of hurt.  That you cannot escape.  

You are angry.  Because the day before, you were happy.  Maybe even an hour before.  A minute. There is no logic behind it and for a logical person like me, this infuriates you.  You want to break it down and rationalize how you are feeling.  But you cannot rationalize depression.

It is the kind of pain where you feel that nothing can save you.  Your head is a black hole and you are falling down it; desperately trying to grab hold of something to stop your descent, but nothing is there.  

You feel guilty.  So guilty.  Especially if you are normally happy.  If you have a great life.  You see so much suffering in the world and you think to yourself "Why do I feel like this?  Others have truly terrible lives." That you are somehow indulging in a first world, inconsequential thing.  Except it isn't inconsequential.

Again I say that I am lucky.  Because when I had my couple of years of this, I understood why people tried to hurt themselves.  Cut themselves in order to feel.  Because I did it myself.  I am lucky because what I did, didn't leaves scars.  Yet again though. I feel guilty.  Because if I had truly wanted to hurt myself, there would be scars.  Feeling guilty because my pain did not leave a mark, Fucked up, isn't it?

You develop mechanisms of coping.  You try to shield those around you from it.  Because you know they will never truly understand.  You tell yourself "Just get through this day and you will be ok".

So here I sit, typing away, telling you how my dark day feels.  It is late.  I am hopeful that tomorrow, the darkness will be gone.  I am riding that wave, the rise and fall of pain that makes you want to curl into a ball and block the world. 

But that is ok.  You are allowed to block out the world.  As long as, when you are ready, you come back it.

This is my explanation of my dark day.  Like I said, it is different for everyone.  But for those who do not experience it, but know those who do: you cannot help them.  But you can understand.  You can give them a hug.  Let them deal with it. the way they know how to; but watch for the signs that it is overwhelming them.

Depression does not define who I am.  It is a part of me that I deal with, but it does not rule me.  Have compassion.  Do not judge us.  That is all we ask.

23 December 2015

You Are Not Alone

Christmas.  A time of swapping presents, seeing family and having fun.  A time when everyone is supposed to be happy and jolly.  A time where complete strangers who never normally speak to you will say Merry Christmas.

One of the things about Christmas however is that expectation to be happy and jolly.  Problems do not stop just because Christmas starts and sadness does not disappear underneath a sprig of holly.  With 1 in 5 of us suffering from mental illness at some time during our lives, sometimes, we all need a little help.

This year I am using my last post of the year to join Kellie from Big Fashionista in posting telephone numbers for people who may be in need.  You are not alone.

MIND
Website www.mind.org.uk
Tel No   0300 123 3393

Samaritans
Website  www.samaritans.org
Tel No      116 123 

Alcoholics Anonymous
Website   www.alcoholics-anonymous.org.uk 
Tel No     0800 9177650 

Stonewall
Website    www.stonewall.org.uk
Info line 08000 50 20 20 
London Lesbian and Gay Switchboard
Tel No    0207 837 7324

SANELine
Website   www.sane.org.uk
Tel No     0300 304 7000

Papyrus, Prevention of young suicide
Website  www.papyrus-uk.org 

National self-help body for the Transgender community
Beaumont Society
Website http://www.beaumontsociety.org.uk
Information Line 01582 412220

Childline
www.childline.org.uk 
0800 1111

Depression Alliance
Website   www.depressionalliance.org

Refuge
Website   www.refuge.org.uk
Tel No     0808 2000 247

Beating eating disorders
Website https://www.b-eat.co.uk 
Help line 0345 634 1414
Youth Line 0345 634 7650

Shelter
Website  www.shelter.org.uk
Tel No    0808 800 4444

NHS Direct
1111 

No Panic
Website http://www.nopanic.org.uk 
Tel No  0844 967 4848
Youth helpline     01753 840393

11 December 2015

Hello, It's Me

Hello little blog.  It's me.  I'm wondering if after all these months, you recognise me.

OK, so I am shameless stealing Adele lyrics here, but the question remains true.  But I have been here, posting, writing; and yet I haven't.  The me that loves to do fashion posts has been absent, the writer who loves to rant has been gone; the woman who pours her heart out through her blog has been MIA.

Victoria the ghost writer has made some appearances, but in general, my heart has been gone from this blog for many, many months.  Why is that?

Well, it has been a bloody hard and horrible year with not many highs.  A long hospital stay followed by the death of my step dad, the aftermath of that and me wondering how I could have lost both my dad and step dad before I'm even 40.  Drawing inward.

"They say time's supposed to heal ya, but I ain't done much healing"

I have to be careful with my heart.  I know how easily I can fall into sadness and when dark days can turn into dark periods.  Under times of stress I have to be especially careful. I have had to be strong, I could not fall under the spell of sadness.

I have not been unable to understand why my passion for writing has been gone.  I have not been able to understand why I have pulled away from friends, stepping in now and again but remaining distant.  I could not understand the need that roared inside me to ensure that I told my mum I loved her so often.  I could not understand why my joy for life seemed to be on mute.

After much soul searching and facing up to truths, I now understand.

I have been on pause.  You know when something huge is about to happen in front of you, you freeze, hold your breath, draw your body inward?  That has been me.  I have put myself on pause, thrown a safety net around myself and anchored in.  Because I have been scared of what comes next.

A Tyrannosaurus Rex cannot see you if you don't move and that is how I have been treating that fear.  Do nothing, and nothing bad will happen.

I have not been writing, although I have wanted to, because I write with my heart and my heart has had a cage around it, keeping it safe.  I have pulled away from my best friends because they know me so well and I wasn't ready to see my reflection in their eyes.  They know what I am like and because they are amazing, they have waited.  Knowing.

I have told my mum that I love her every single day not because I adore her, which I do, but because somewhere inside me was saying "What if she dies too".   Losing my dad when I was younger and losing my step dad this year has made me pull her so close, because my heart is in no state to deal with that kind of grief.

I am improving now.  I am writing again finally and the words are flowing freely through me again, like they always have before.  There comes a point where you have to take that jump and continue living again, fully; not on safety mode.

Most people would not press publish on this post.  It is deeply personal and a working through of how I have been feeling.  A "Dear Diary".  But I believe that it is important to document your feelings, remember how you felt and how you brought yourself through it,  It is a marker in my life that proves how strong you are,

Writing has always been therapeutic and I am finally ready to let it heal me.  My sparkle is coming back and I feel more like myself again.  Hello little blog of mine, I have missed you so much.



3 March 2015

A Slippery Slope

When life gets busy or times get stressful, taking care of yourself can often be at the bottom of your list, if indeed you even make the list. You feed and water yourself and live your life on basic instinct, but often do you feel stop and take a minute to assess how you are feeling?

Neglecting yourself emotionally can be just as damaging as anything that you can do to your body physically. If you already have existing issues such as anxiety or depression, it can be a dangerously slippery slope if you do not look ahead.  You can find a psychologist online.

This is something that I have realised recently. These past six months have been rough; but my mental health is not something that has been on my radar. Actually when I say that, I am lying. It has been on my radar, sometimes with a very large red flashing warn sign, but I have ignored it; choosing to focus on bigger issues.

Sweeping aside these feelings has not really worked out for me so well.

I like stability. If I can make a plan, I am happy. Whilst I have a habit of making snap decisions sometimes, you had better bet that the outcomes are planned to the nth degree. I have my coping mechanisms for my anxiety and I know how to hunker down during a dark day. Unplanned issues and long term uncertainty do not fit well with who I am.

These are core aspects of my personality, hardwired in and hard to change. When things out of my control mess with my hardwiring, I am sent into a tailspin.

My unconscious way of dealing with that was to withdraw inward. I stopped calling my friends to catch up, I rarely went out on a weekend and my ability to say yes to invitations was practically non-existent. My blog also suffered, my motivation and inspiration were just not there anymore. Aside from going to work, I just wanted to be in my house and not go anywhere.

Can you see where this is going yet? Because I didn't.

Over the Christmas break, I had managed to book holidays from work meaning that I had around 11 days off. Nearing the end of my time off, during which I had only been out of the house once, I had event planned. Nothing major, just drinks and a catch up with friends at someone's house.

The day of the party arrived and suddenly, unexpectedly; I was terrified. It was not that I did not want to go, I was really looking forward to it in fact, but I did not want to leave the house. My safe space. My head was spinning, thinking of excuses that I could use not to go. My anxiety levels were spiking and I felt like I was in sheer panic.

It was at that point that the lightbulb went off in my head and I realised that my self preservation mode had lead me to a very dark place. A place where going outside even seemed like a bad thing.

I forced myself to go that night from sheer will, a will that has gotten me through many things over the years. I have started to say yes more and am no longer scared to leave the house; a feeling that I did not even know was there, until it reared its ugly head.

Today I am happy. My life is returning to more of an even keel and I am planning outings and events as much as I can. It is my birthday this weekend and have two fun nights out planned. I am back to my old self.

It is a while since I have shared something so deeply personal here. But I feel that it is important to do so because it shows just how close you can come to the edge, without ever realising that you are balancing on the edge of a precipice, where only you can pull yourself back.


No matter what is going on in your life, take the time to take care of yourself. Look for warning signs and do not ignore that red flashing light on your radar. It is important for us all to take care of the people around us, deal with bad situations well and look for that silver lining; but just as important is to take care of ourselves.

5 January 2013

Repost

Foreword: I originally posted this blog a few days ago and then decided to delete, as it’s very personal and I wasn’t ready.

Then however I saw the cutting for Bieber hashtag last night on Twitter and was appalled.  Young girls cutting themselves for a celebrity to notice them, people making jokes about it, some even saying “Remember, down the stream not across the path”.  So now I’ve put the post back up.

Cutting isn’t the new cool thing.  Depression isn’t funny.  Just because you aren’t walking around with a broken bone doesn’t mean you’re not broken.
…………………………………………….

Have you ever noticed that when you are having a dark day, people will try and make you feel better using the atypical “But think about this and this that is good in your life”….  Am I the only one that this irritates? 

I know that people mean well when they say these things, but isn’t it obvious that whatever it is that is making you sad (if you even know in the first place), has nothing to do with the good parts of your life, that’s there no connection?

Whilst I’m lucky enough not to be in it’s grips now, I’ve flirted with depression for many years.  There was a time in my early 20’s when I came very close.  Too close.  I was so completely unhappy.  I didn’t have the outlets to talk about it and not knowing why I was so unhappy, I didn’t see the point.  In anything.

Maybe if I’d had my blog then things may have been different.  This is my safe zone.  I can say whatever I want, even if I don’t know what I’m really saying until I read back an earlier post. 

Back then though, I didn’t have anything.  Already an inward person I turned in even more so.  I turned to cutting.  I don’t think it was even a conscious decision yet one day, the knife was in my hand.  It doesn’t help. It hurts, physically and emotionally.  You’ll never be quite the same person again.

It’s been years since I was that girl.  It took me years to realise that people will listen when you talk.  If you don’t talk about what hurts, it will always hurt you, or you will hurt yourself.  

I was lucky in that I don’t have any scars.  I still have my dark days, I admit to them freely but the helplessness has left me, along with the urge to cut.  I was lucky I didn’t have depression, which is and can be debilitating.  I was just very unhappy.

Ask for help.  People will always give it.  You are not as alone as you think you are.  Talk to someone, anyone, just talk.