Depression
Writing that word is certainly easier than saying it out loud.
First of all, thank you to everyone who commented on my last post. It’s nice to know that some people out there are listening, and that a few of you may have even been through something similar.
I phoned the doctors this morning. My friend said that I should ask if any have a specialist interest in mental health but they didn’t, so I made an appointment for next Friday with the lady doctor that I am registered with. Another of my best friends has agreed to come with me for emotional support, and I think I’ll need it.
I guess if I am going to discuss this with the doctor, I really need to start being truthful about my true feelings, so I’m going to try.
I apologise in advance. It’s disjointed, it’ illogical and it’s emotional. But then, so is what I am feeling. Bear with me:
Basically, the way I appear in this journal, and in real life, is hiding a huge mess. On the surface I am happy-go-lucky, carefree, the joker and mostly contented.
This was the person I used to be, and as a result I carried on the persona that everyone knew and loved.
However the inside of me seems to have been lost. I don’t know how and I don’t know why, but I wish I could get me back.
This particular ‘episode’, if you will, has been gradually worsening since Christmas, but truthfully I have felt it on and off for about 5 years. Up until last year, the worst was the first episode, which lasted for a good 18 months starting in late 2004. However, this is the worst I have ever felt, and I simply cannot go on like this.
I feel tired all the time. Like, physically exhausted from dawn til dusk. I sleep so much though. All I want to do is sleep - I’m not depressed when I’m asleep.
I was overeating a lot, but in the last week my appetite has completely gone. I keep getting random headaches and nausea.
Sometimes I feel like I’m trying to walk through a thick dark heavy fog, and it’s pressing down on me. I feel like I’m moving in slow motion and slurring my words. I forget things very easily, and often have to be told things more than once. I feel like people are getting frustrated with me, but I honestly can’t help it.
Friends call and message me, they write on my facebook wall or leave me comments on my livejournal. I appreciate it, I want to respond, and I even know what to say. But then I forget/run out of steam/ can’t quite find the right words.
I feel like I’m pushing people away, when I actually need them more than ever.
The slightest thing makes me want to cry, and I do. Every. Single. Night.
I am terrified that someone will find out so I muffle the sobs with my pillow and blame the red eyes and sniffles on ‘hayfever’.
I have no motivation to do anything, even especially the things I used to love, like photography and riding. I feel so bad for Jack. I am giving him all his basic needs but spending no quality time with him. I haven’t ridden in weeks. Every time I pass him and he just rests his nose in my hand and stares into my eyes I just want to break down and cry.
It’s affecting my social life, and my work. I have been warned for being late. I feel like screaming “THIS IS NOT THE REAL ME. THE REAL KATE IS NEVER LATE!!” but I don’t. I care, but not enough. Even everyday things such as making a sandwich seem daunting and exhausting. I look around me at all the normal people just getting on with their lives and I find myself wondering how they do it, what I am doing wrong.
On top of all this I feel guilt. Guilt that I have no valid reason for feeling like this and guilt that I am not spending any time with my friends/family/horse.
I would never, ever dream of hurting myself or taking my own life, but there have definitely been moments when I have just wished I could go to sleep and never wake up again.
I feel completely empty and full to bursting with grief for a wasted life all at the same time. Sometimes I feel like I’m about to fall at the seams. All day, everyday, waves of complete hopelessness wash over me. Sometimes so strong that I just want to sink to my knees and cry forever. But I can’t, because then I would have explaining to do, and I am having a lot of trouble putting this into words as it is. Also, they will tell me that I m just lazy and need to do more exercise or get out more or that life is hard and I should just suck it up and get over myself. Like my Mum. That is exactly what she would say, and exactly why she must never find out.
On the good days, I feel completely numb and empty and can generally be easily distracted from crying. Although, it comes with the price of the fog pressing down on me, slurring my words and slowing my movements.
On the bad days, I avoid contact with other people because I find it very difficult to hide the tears that spring up constantly. On these days I am more clear-headed, but it is more like the thick fog has lifted to reveal the abject misery I am feeling.
Today is a good day, which is how I am able to write this entry. Even if it did take me ages to remember how to spell the simplest of words.
In my heart I know it is depression. I think I have always known. I was just too afraid to admit it to myself, let alone to somebody else.
I am frightened. Frightened that I will always feel like this. Frightened that I will never again see the child I used to be. Frightened that once people find out that they will all desert me. Frightened that I will die without really ‘living’.
First of all, thank you to everyone who commented on my last post. It’s nice to know that some people out there are listening, and that a few of you may have even been through something similar.
I phoned the doctors this morning. My friend said that I should ask if any have a specialist interest in mental health but they didn’t, so I made an appointment for next Friday with the lady doctor that I am registered with. Another of my best friends has agreed to come with me for emotional support, and I think I’ll need it.
I guess if I am going to discuss this with the doctor, I really need to start being truthful about my true feelings, so I’m going to try.
I apologise in advance. It’s disjointed, it’ illogical and it’s emotional. But then, so is what I am feeling. Bear with me:
Basically, the way I appear in this journal, and in real life, is hiding a huge mess. On the surface I am happy-go-lucky, carefree, the joker and mostly contented.
This was the person I used to be, and as a result I carried on the persona that everyone knew and loved.
However the inside of me seems to have been lost. I don’t know how and I don’t know why, but I wish I could get me back.
This particular ‘episode’, if you will, has been gradually worsening since Christmas, but truthfully I have felt it on and off for about 5 years. Up until last year, the worst was the first episode, which lasted for a good 18 months starting in late 2004. However, this is the worst I have ever felt, and I simply cannot go on like this.
I feel tired all the time. Like, physically exhausted from dawn til dusk. I sleep so much though. All I want to do is sleep - I’m not depressed when I’m asleep.
I was overeating a lot, but in the last week my appetite has completely gone. I keep getting random headaches and nausea.
Sometimes I feel like I’m trying to walk through a thick dark heavy fog, and it’s pressing down on me. I feel like I’m moving in slow motion and slurring my words. I forget things very easily, and often have to be told things more than once. I feel like people are getting frustrated with me, but I honestly can’t help it.
Friends call and message me, they write on my facebook wall or leave me comments on my livejournal. I appreciate it, I want to respond, and I even know what to say. But then I forget/run out of steam/ can’t quite find the right words.
I feel like I’m pushing people away, when I actually need them more than ever.
The slightest thing makes me want to cry, and I do. Every. Single. Night.
I am terrified that someone will find out so I muffle the sobs with my pillow and blame the red eyes and sniffles on ‘hayfever’.
I have no motivation to do anything, even especially the things I used to love, like photography and riding. I feel so bad for Jack. I am giving him all his basic needs but spending no quality time with him. I haven’t ridden in weeks. Every time I pass him and he just rests his nose in my hand and stares into my eyes I just want to break down and cry.
It’s affecting my social life, and my work. I have been warned for being late. I feel like screaming “THIS IS NOT THE REAL ME. THE REAL KATE IS NEVER LATE!!” but I don’t. I care, but not enough. Even everyday things such as making a sandwich seem daunting and exhausting. I look around me at all the normal people just getting on with their lives and I find myself wondering how they do it, what I am doing wrong.
On top of all this I feel guilt. Guilt that I have no valid reason for feeling like this and guilt that I am not spending any time with my friends/family/horse.
I would never, ever dream of hurting myself or taking my own life, but there have definitely been moments when I have just wished I could go to sleep and never wake up again.
I feel completely empty and full to bursting with grief for a wasted life all at the same time. Sometimes I feel like I’m about to fall at the seams. All day, everyday, waves of complete hopelessness wash over me. Sometimes so strong that I just want to sink to my knees and cry forever. But I can’t, because then I would have explaining to do, and I am having a lot of trouble putting this into words as it is. Also, they will tell me that I m just lazy and need to do more exercise or get out more or that life is hard and I should just suck it up and get over myself. Like my Mum. That is exactly what she would say, and exactly why she must never find out.
On the good days, I feel completely numb and empty and can generally be easily distracted from crying. Although, it comes with the price of the fog pressing down on me, slurring my words and slowing my movements.
On the bad days, I avoid contact with other people because I find it very difficult to hide the tears that spring up constantly. On these days I am more clear-headed, but it is more like the thick fog has lifted to reveal the abject misery I am feeling.
Today is a good day, which is how I am able to write this entry. Even if it did take me ages to remember how to spell the simplest of words.
In my heart I know it is depression. I think I have always known. I was just too afraid to admit it to myself, let alone to somebody else.
I am frightened. Frightened that I will always feel like this. Frightened that I will never again see the child I used to be. Frightened that once people find out that they will all desert me. Frightened that I will die without really ‘living’.