It’s the summer of 2014 and my world was falling apart. For months leading up to this day, I had pretty much shut myself off from my closest friends. I had stopped going to church as I felt no desire to attend. I was ignoring phone calls and spending most of my time sitting in front of the television and watching the time pass. In my mind there was no reason to get out of bed in the mornings, what was the point? I was crawling through the day pretending to be happy, laughing at jokes that weren’t funny, smiling fakely when loved ones asked if I was ok… Everyone asked me if I was ok which just drove me further and further into myself. Each morning taking a shower was hard work. Getting dressed was torture, and leaving the house was almost impossible. The very things I adored became a chore and the very people I loved became strangers…
The smallest of things upset me without warning. I felt so alone, although I had pushed everyone away I didn’t want to be alone. I was confused and trully felt I had lost my mind. I would cry at adverts, cry at music, cry at everything without really knowing why. And in the darkest of nights, I would sit on the bathroom floor and beg God to take me away. I never told anyone about those moments- the quiet calm moments when I would literally beg God to take me away from it all. I would be lay in bed and would wonder how people would cope if I never woke up. Scenarios playing over and over in my head about my funeral, the attendees, my family. I really believed I was better off dead. No longer would I hurt people, no longer would I be a burden, no longer would my body ache or my mind crumble. I found solace in those dark places, dark and lonely and painful but calm… Always very calm and controlled. Silently begging for everything to end, but alas waking the day to fight the fight and continue into further confusion.
One night my boyfriend and I had a row, a heated blazing row about nothing. We had been arguing a lot but this row was different- I was different. I was angry and hopeless and at great risk of pressing the self destruct button on my entire life and everything in it. I was losing my mind. So wound up with emotion and confusion I screamed out everything that I had been keeping inside- fury and pain shot across the room at him in a desperate attempt to be heard. The rest is a blur… Screaming that things would be better if I wasn’t around. He screamed back at me that I needed help, he told me to look at myself in the mirror and so I did. And I saw a face I didn’t recognise, I hated the reflection. And with that I ran to the safety of the bathroom, slumped on the floor and crying I felt a sudden pain in my arm- in my emotion I had clung into my arm and tore the flesh with my nails… I needed help. The whole world knew I needed help and now I knew it too.
The very next day I drove myself to the doctors and sat awaiting my fate. I wondered if they would take me away, or would I be ignored, maybe they would tell me that I was fine and it was everyone else who were mad. As I sat down with the doctor my mouth opened and my eyes became wet. I had broken. Finally I was a mess on the floor with only the doctors concerned face keeping me from running away. And then she said it… “I think you are most certainly very highly depressed”. As my mind took in what she was telling me, a weight lifted off my shoulders… IT ALL MAKES SENCE TO ME
How could I have not seen this? How did I not know?
That’s the thing though, until you experience it You just don’t know. Until someone tells you, you just don’t feel it. I didn’t see it coming even though it was obvious to everyone around me. I was so far gone the only one who could pull me out was that doctor. She saved my life that day.