Day 5/30 – A time where you were depressed

This one should be easy to write about, but trying to think of a specific time is really not straightforward at all. There have been so many different times and varying lengths. So which one do I choose to share in this challenge?

Probably the time I can recall the most was when i was 13/14. I had been feeling really down for a long time but I didn’t understand the way I felt and being at this age hormones and puberty kept being mentioned. It just seemed to be a normal thing, nothing to be overly worried about and something which I would get through and over. 

However, being sucidial at 13 is something which makes people stop for a few minutes and take seriously these ‘down’ moods. But trying to explain why I was feeling down and like life was not worth living was difficult to say the least. To be honest, I don’t remember why I couldn’t tell anyone. But as I look back now I have a real sense that I felt that no one would believe me if I told them. When I had orginally said something, it was listened to but nothing really changed. The abuse I suffered when I was much younger I had created into a game, nothing bad. Just an early sexual experience and nothing more. In fact this way of thinking is pretty much I how I dealt with it until last year. 

This probably makes little sense to those of you who dont know me. I have written some other blogs detailing my past and I am going to share them on here at some point. So, I apologise for anything which seems nonsensical. I just can’t write all about it again. Its far too hard and I can’t cope right now with all the feelings that it raises.

Back to the depression – I was diagnosed with depression at 13 and a half, counselling and anti-depressants were prescribed. But non of it helped, I got lower and I attempted to OD twice, Once 6 months later after I was told my parents were getting a divorce and 6 months after that. 

I had been truenting from school, had attempted to unsuccessfully run away. I had started to smoke and was hanging out with the ‘wrong’ people. I was actually expelled twice in the same year which meant 3 different schools at a time when GSCEs were being chosen. Trying to fit in and make friends was really hard and I had never felt more alone. I felt like a complete loser, I was spotty and awkward, had zero confidence, had been told several times that I was stupid, ugly etc. Not just by my friends but teachers too. I remember feeling completely worthless and really didn’t see the point in being around. I didnt make anyone happy and I was not going to amount to anything so I might as well do the world a favour and just fuck off. 

The only person who seemed to remotely like me was the 22 yr old male who had been molesting me for 5 years. He was not around our house as much, but he still came round. I feel ashamed to say this, I was actually jealous of his girlfriend. I began to encourage his abuse, his attention. I remember having fantasies and dreams about him. My head was so confused and I feel completely ashamed and disgusted with myself for even admitting this. I have never told anyone. I blame myself for some of what happened to me, I wanted stuff to happen. I didn’t report him, I kept is a secret because I was scared that I would have no one at all. That I would be completely alone. 

This disgust with myself was at times more than I could bare. I started to shoplifting, smoking weed and hash, drinking. I also sold myself. I would get cigarettes, vodka and a few quid for performing sexual acts, boys and girls. No one knows this, I dont even know why I am writing this. I am so ashamed of myself, my depression completely consumed me for a long time, and actually looking back on this time, I dont think I ever got better. I think I just put on a mask. I can see the symptoms of bpd had already started back then. The depression itself came in waves and always has done. Sometimes it lasts for ages, sometimes I can fight my way through it. But BPD is different. I can see that as I write this and I am realising that the reality is that my mental health has been fucked up for a long long time and that trying to get myself better is also going to take time. 

I am 35 in a couple of months, thats a lot of years to work through, a lot of things that have happened and a lot of emotions and thoughts that have never been dealt with. I am lucky today, I have a husband who does love me even though he is not the greatest at showing it, 3 wonderful kids who drive me mad and some support from MH services, a couple of close friends and some amazing support from some special people on Twitter. I have my parents and siblings, although I dont tell them everything….I couldnt…The biggest difference from back then and now, is that feel that I am no longer alone. I finally feel that I can let things out and that there will be someone who will still be here. Having written this, I am scared that I might lose people, and I certainly will never share this with the people in real life. I couldnt.

So, thank you for reading my little ramble which has taken me on a journey I had no idea that it would. Now, I just have to find the courage to press the publish button. I know I dont have to share, but sharing makes writing worthwhile, otherwise I just delete it and feel even worse than I did before….SO I have to publish.