Even the word scares me and so it should.
Last Friday I wasn’t totally in control, to be honest I don’t think I was in any control at all.
I was already in self destruction mode and not just that night, I’ve been teetering on the brink for awhile now.
I have had depression before and if I’m honest with myself I’m probably in another cycle of it right now and as much as I hate it, it will always accompany me throughout my life.
The pandemic or whatever you want to call it has changed everyone’s lives, it has really turned them upside down.
It’s been challenging, I know I’ve already had an emotional breakdown throughout the last 5 months with the deaths of two friends.
Both amazing people and a huge loss to everyone who knew them.
For me, I had suffered with depression unknownly for a long time, possibly even back to 15 years ago.
During that time I experienced a breakdown although didn’t realise what it was or really acknowledge it either.
I wanted to forget it happened, it showed what I thought was a flaw in my character, a weakness, although now I recognise it to be a strength.
A stressful period of my life that I couldn’t contain any longer and broke down.
I wish I knew back then what it was as the waves of episodes just got stronger and stronger each and every time they took hold.
During this period of time in the last 5 months especially, these depressional episodes have come back and they are becoming more and more frequent.
It’s easy to convince yourself that if you can get to a certain point you’ll be alright again, only for the goalposts to continue to keep moving away from you.
Who knew back in March that we would still be where we are in August with no real end date in sight.
I’ve wrote a lot over the course of the last few months and with it some of what I have written has brought out so much emotion for me, and with it many hard to read articles for everyone else.
In the last few days I’ve written two pieces that will have been extremely upsetting for anyone that has seen them.
On Friday night I wasn’t in control and in a moment I was in trouble, mentally I had gone.
My biggest trigger has always been about escape and disappearing, those thoughts were prominent within my mind.
Alcohol played a part but not like you would think it would.
I drink because I enjoy it, but at times that enjoyment that maybe projected outwardly takes a sinister turn inwardly.
Drinking has been my vice which helps to take the pain away.
I’m not an alcoholic, I know what you are thinking, that’s what an alcoholic would say.
But I’m really not, I’m a social drinker and once I’m set I stay out because I don’t have anything or anyone to return back home for.
I never have, certainly not consistently or long-term.
If I’m at home, I won’t go out, I’ve found my home to become a safe place where I can close the door on the world and just breathe, no pretense of how I should be.
Many people think they know what’s best for me, they tell me so often that’s what I think or how I should behave, but your not me, I’m the only one who has that privilege.
I’ve mentioned a few times before that I have only had one suicidal episode, that is true.
It would have taken place almost 9 years ago in my home that I now call somewhere safe.
Right at the start I said even the word suicide scares me and because of it something scared me on Friday night.
Quite a few things did.
The fact that I wasn’t in control and the fact I woke up in my own bed unaware of how I got home and from opening my eyes not knowing where I was.
I said as easy as that was on that evening it could have been just as easy as being discovered too.
The post I shared on Saturday especially may have been a hard read for many, but it could have easily been a heartfelt and emotional message from family that I sadly passed away.
I wasn’t in any sort of control on Friday and that scares me, even if I was found everyone would make an assumption that it would be suicide and that scares me too.
I’m not suicidal regardless of whether you believe me or not.
Rewind back almost 4 years ago.
In late October that’s when I was first diagnosed with depression, despite suffering in an unknowning silence long before it.
I was completely gone, in the last couple of weeks before it, I was probably averaging around 2 hours of broken sleep per night.
Constantly on edge, paranoid that someone may spot a sign that would unravel my life and spot a weakness that I had no idea why I constantly felt the way I did.
I had lost my mind, my ambition, my determined nature had dried up, I had no purpose, every day enjoyment had long disappeared for everything that I once did.
I was a shell of a human being and I couldn’t trust what my mind was telling me.
I often say how do you even comprehend how to explain something to someone else when you don’t understand it yourself.
I was lost, a lot like I am now.
Within those 4 years I had to learn to trust myself again, to build myself back up from what many associate as rock bottom but being down there it feels a lot worse.
Gradually with an incredible amount of patience and a constant feel of frustration I started to believe in myself once again.
The passions and loves that I had for the life I had created started to return.
I learnt how to enjoy life again and with it had an appreciation and love for myself once again.
This pandemic taking away the necessity for it all, it’s ruined my life.
Back in March and more so the turn of the year I had plans and goals and a determination to succeed like none other.
The last 5 months have placed a lot of things on hold, all you really had was hope, but as each week passed by and then each month, here we are, still no further forward.
What dawned on me this weekend was that 4 years ago I rebuilt my life and each challenge that turned into a passion played its part as a coping mechanism to fight off my mental health and help to level me out.
5 months is a long time without the things that help to level you out, but as time passes you still had hope.
Last week I received news on one of my passions being placed on hold for the foreseeable future, certainly until this virus was more controlled.
That undoubtably started this particular trigger of events, however the next time it will be something else.
Triggers for me is a strange one, the only recurring one I have is disappearing, clothes in a bag and gone in the night, on Friday that was the first time I’ve really had that thought come to the forefront of my mind and stay there for a moment of time.
With triggers I can recognise them afterwards and adjust accordingly but in this uncertain time I can’t adjust to something that doesn’t have an end date.
And with it nothing to look forward too.
Going into work is my saving grace at the moment, it brings some level of structure and routine, but work doesn’t level me off.
My passions help to level me off and without them not only do I feel lost, I feel all hope has gone with it.
My future is to breathe, work on even smaller steps and try and find a new passion that helps me to level out.
The word suicide should scare everyone but this is happening more than you care to think about.
I’ve said in the last few weeks especially that I don’t want to be alive, that I feel as though I’m punishing myself for being alive in a life I have no control over, and in a life that simply isn’t getting any better.
My life generally is difficult and can be hard and tough at times, depression looks for any weakness so it can strike and take hold, and once it does take hold there’s no shaking it off.
Yes you can recover but it will always be there with you too.
I respect it as much as I hate it, I wish it didn’t affect me, but it does.
I just need to try and find another way.
Black behind my eyes 