I've explained depression to many people as a hole that gets deeper and deeper and is really hard to climb out of. Winston Churchill called his depression his black dog. This person's short story really hit a note with me since it's more or less how I try explain what it feels like to those who have never experienced it:
Friday, March 23, 2012
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
A Full Plate
On top of dealing with my depression I am also trying to mend the relationship with my boyfriend.
I won't go into too much detail but what spurred his decision to break up with me was that he had kissed this girl he liked.
He went on to lie to me for 2 weeks, disregarding all the new information on depression I had found and shutting down all the hope I showed. He also kept me on a leash on saying how he just wanted to be friends and how we could be together when I was better. In short, he has his own issues, he passed a lot of his guilt to me, that it was because I was depressed he was trying to blame me.
Yes, everything he did was selfish and completely unacceptable. But in a way I took it like a champ no matter how much doubt he shoved my way I wasn't going to let go of the idea that I didn't want to be depressed. I actually fought back being angry that he would mention relapsing when I was so invested in getting better, that my journey hadn't even began to even talk about failure. I fought because I believed, I didn't care how long it took, if I relapsed, I was going to fight depression for the rest of my life if I had to.
The 2 weeks of being shoved back and forth by him, I managed to wrangle the truth out of him. He had kissed her. I lost it, the two weeks of being so strong, dealing with the jerking me back and forth, the negativity when I was trying to hard to be positive.
I called the crisis line.
I'm glad I did, I didn't do it because I was going to hurt myself, I did it because I didn't know what to do and if I didn't do something my emotions would consume me again. I finally heard what I needed to hear, that I was doing the right thing. From calling the crisis line, the researching about depression, to talking to people online. The lovely woman on the other end also confirmed how strong as was, she asked if it was going to stop my pursuit to get treatment and I answered without thinking twice that it wasn't going to stop me.
That's when I knew I was going to be okay. I had managed to go through direct blows to my self-esteem and confidence from the person I loved most and I survived without being discouraged.
I know, I question myself too sometimes, why are you trying to fix the relationship then? I know what I need to change, I didn't do my part to keep the relationship going. Even though I was depressed it isn't an excuse for anything I did. I apologized for them and am dedicated to fixing them and moving on.
If he's willing to do the same for his mistakes then I am willing to try again. (more on that later)
Would this be easier if I cut my losses and just left to work on depression alone? Yes of course.
I guess a lot of my post will be dealing with my emotions on this relationship and less so about the depression although they are somewhat intertwined. I know my black dog has a full belly from what my boyfriend did to me, barking in my head confirming my insecurities.
Plus I haven't found any info on how to deal with both depression and someone cheating on you. So this is my little place to arrange my thoughts I guess.
My Story...
I decided that I no longer accepted depression as a way of life about 2-3 weeks ago.
I have depressed for atleast 5 years if not longer. I was never abused by family or friends or significant others. Actually I have a lot of people in my life that are caring and want to help me in anyway they can. Sadly depression doesn't know or care who you are or where you are in life.
I am 22 years old and for the 5 years that depression really took a hold on my life I didn't live. I let people get away with treating me badly, I let opportunities slip by, I flunked out of university, and quit my job. I became afraid of going outside and talking to people feeling like I had a tag on my head declaring that I was a failure.
I pushed people in out my life, for 2 years the only person that knew the truth was my boyfriend who lived with me. I pushed him too, feeding my need for misery. He cracked, of course. He felt used and trapped, I depended on him for everything. So he broke up with me.
This was actually the day I was waiting for. I knew that when he left I could finally die. My thoughts were consumed with how to commit suicide. I knew how I was going to do it and when. I knew that my parents, my brother, my friends, and now finally my ex-boyfriend would be okay when I left. I knew they were strong enough to survive without me.
What I didn't anticipate was that even though my boyfriend broke up with me he never left. He didn't want me to die. I could see the pain in his eyes, unable to leave because he was scared.
That's when I realized I could never kill myself without passing on my pain to those who cared. That even though my boyfriend was breaking up with me because he could no longer deal with my depression he would forever carry the guilt that he caused my death, that if he could just hold out longer. That everyone in my life would wonder what kind of part they played and who they would place the blame on. That no matter what kind of note I left explaining not to blame my boyfriend I knew people would.
So I turned to the internet. I read and researched so much about depression and read stories from people who are depressed. For me this was the light switch moment, I wasn't alone, a lot of people feel the exact same as me. These people didn't choose to feel this way and neither did I. I had become complacent because it was familiar and so much easier sleeping as much as I could to not exist.
Since that light switch day it hasn't been easy but I no longer accept depression as a way to live because technically it isn't living.
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