Wednesday, 13 April 2016

So what's going on Rosie?

This is probably one of the hardest posts I've had to write, because I'm writing it with the intention of posting the link online for people to read. Before you get any further, if you've come from that link I need to make it clear that I'm not sitting here like 'this happened, this person did it and it's their fault' because I'm not. This is no ones fault. It's not my families fault, friends fault or my fault. It's just something that happens in my brain, due to a chemical imbalance. That's all it is. Depression and anxiety are just things I have to accept are in my life. 

I also can't force myself to get better because other people think I should be. I know that I come across as lazy. I know that I look like I don't care about anything. I know that I should be doing more. But please note the use of 'should' not 'could'. I know it doesn't look like it but I am doing the best that I can. Some days my best is going to be getting out of bed and functioning all day. Other days my best is going to be getting outside for a walk. Eventually my best will be applying for jobs, then going out and doing a job interview, then getting a job and holding it down, and so on and so forth. The point is, I know these things, and I am trying. I really really am. 

On Monday evening, I had a breakdown. I don't mean I got upset and cried for a few minutes. I mean (excuse my language) I lost my shit. I screamed, shouted, and cried and cried and cried. I know some people reading this are going to be sat there like 'really? Because of that? Get a grip.' And in answer to that. No. Not because of that. I guess the phrase you could use here is that it was the straw that broke the camels back. I'd been trying and failing for so long and the realisation that nothing was working and I was losing something I cared about because of it just sent me over the edge. But it also turned a light on to my problems as I've been aware I'd needed help for a while. I admit, I was trying to ignore it, hoping it would just go away. 

On Tuesday morning I went to the doctors, and finally I saw someone that actually seemed to want to help me. I'm going to throw this out there right now; I am on antidepressants. I'm not ashamed or embarrassed by it, and neither should you be. You're not the one taking them, I am. It's my situation, not yours. I am on a pill called Fluoxetine. I've got a prescription for the next two weeks, then a check up and then more. I've also been referred for a thing called Cognitive Behavioural Therapy. That should help me understand my anxities and the triggers. Then it will help me learn how to control them and overcome them, leading to me being able to live again. For the first time in a long time I can see that there might be something I can actually do to help myself. 

However there is no miracle cure. I'm trying but I'm not going to wake up in a few months time and suddenly be cured or healed. There will also be days where I wake up and just can't cope. Eventually, I will feel better, and the bad days will be fewer and further between. However when I am better, I will still be aware of what these conditions have caused me to lose. I've lost 5 years of my life to this, 5 years of sitting inside avoiding people and life, basically 5 years of just existing not living. I'm not going to get back the friendships I've lost, the relationships I've cared deeply for, or the experiences I missed out on. That's just the reality. It kills me when I realise what I've lost and what I'm never going to get back now, especially at the moment. But those people are better off with out me there dragging them down. I can see that now. If you care for people, you need to do what is best for them. It just took me a while to see that. 

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