Depression

When I was first diagnosed with depression, I laughed it off. I am not depressed, this doctor who met me five minutes ago has no right to call me depressed. But after letting it sink in, subconciously I knew. Then i was watching a show and something that was said sparked my attention; 'You have to be serverely depressed to slit your own wrists'. It was then, I knew. And all of a sudden, the world just turned bleak and I knew that regardless of how others perceived me, I knew I was hiding, that really, I was already dead.

I was a happy girl, I grew up in a happy community, one in which my family was very well known. My uncle had a boat, we used to spend weekends on and just sail around, i used to climb trees and adventure and fuel my fascination of the world that surrounded me, and the world I was yet to see. I used to dream, I wanted to inspire and benefit the world, I was bullied but none of it affected me because I knew that the future was mine to draw. That girl is now unrecognizable. I remember dreaming of the time I became 18 and having my own life and friends and how great life would be with all the freedom and opportunities but my god did that little girl never ever expect to grow up and die inside a still living body. Morbid isn't it.

Depression isn't glamorous or vulnerable, its not a handsome boy comforting you until you fall asleep, expressing how beautiful he thinks you are or crying with you, wiping away tears off of your cheeck and kissing them away. No, its lying in the darkness. Alone. Staring at a ceiling. Last night I lay outside with a blanket in the pitch black, and stared, just stared. Its possession, its wanting to cry but not having the emotion to bring yourself to, you are numb, its wanting to move but not having any energy to do so. Its suicidal thoughts, its blood, its fat and frankly its scary to see somebody so lifeless. Mental disorders are often glamourised but there is nothing glamourous about it. I understand drug users and alcoholics because its an escape, yes its a vicious cycle and no Im not a drug user or alcoholic but I understand why.

Coming to terms with what Ive been diagnosed with has made me worse off. I've now put on weight because i starve and then binge, and its so disgusting. Laxatives I can't take anymore because I was begininnig to get major hair loss and spent hours and hours rolling on the floor in agony due to overdose (I'd take 12 at a time if not more) Having this label sometimes help people because they know they at least belong to something, but for me, its made everything so much harder.

The stigma regarding mental disorders make it so much harder for those victim to it, whether it be learning difficulties, depression, disorders, anything. There is a certain shame that comes with it and an ignorance. I've quite frankly lost all hope.

My mom will see me and ask 'Is it a bad day today?' and I hate that question. YES YES EVERYDAY IS A BAD DAY BUT IT JUST SO HAPPENS YOU HAVE TO FEAR FOR YOUR DAUGHTERS LIFE TODAY. Rapists and abusers etc don't just take the rights away of your own body, they don't just leave you with bruises and a sore body, for me that was the easiest part. Its now, having to live with it, and seeing it when I blink and living it everytime I take my clothes of to shower. Its washing and washing and washing but the dirt never goes away. The dirt becomes tattooed.

Nobody can sympathise and say I understand, they can listen and the best reply is silence because there is nothing to be said, there is no simple easy explanation. And I hate, sympathy. I have a friend, and my god he is the msot infuriating boy on the planet, I love him regardless, but when I had explained to him certain things, he caught me looking at my arm and stroking the cuts and he said 'It's not your fault' and that was the best thing he could have said, thats all he said, and i never wanted him to say anything more. He somehow managed to make me laugh and keep the conversation easy. I'm fed up of getting messages telling me how strong I am, because nobody knows. And no I'm not, especially from family. Family who know literally nothing and think my life is all glitz and glam and meeting good looking people at events etc.

Depression is not strong, depression is silent, it lingers and its identical to being held down and forced against your will. Nobody wants depression, its not a choice, it locks on to you and without warning, takes every last bit of you. Slowly but surely.

All my love

JulietX