IT'S OK TO GET HELP

I'm going to write about depression and I know that certain people will view this as confronting. I just don't get the stigma still attached by some people to depression. If your leg or your heart or your skin has a problem, that's socially acceptable. But mention your brain having a problem and it still upsets some people!

I have suffered from depression all my life and I don't care less about stigmas. I talk about my depression and discuss feelings, medication and treatments I've tried quite openly. To not do that would be to play along with labelling others impose.

I could feel an attack building up a couple of days ago. Its hard to explain other than I was getting emotionally lower and lower as the week progressed. Also, all I wanted to do was sleep and I just couldn't. Its quite debilitating because while trying to keep a strong front, your inside strength crumbles slowly. You try to have conversations with people and maintain a "normal" facade,  but its physically and emotionally exhausting.

Eventually something really trivial triggers the final crumbling and ensures the tears and withdrawal start. In my case it was a joke by one of my doctors. He said that we needed to test something because I was weird. Normally I would have laughed and joked back, but this week it was a bit of a trigger for tears and anxiety.

 I decided to go home from the city,to my house, my bed and my husband. I can manage better in my own surroundings.

I spent a whole day alternating between bed and household chores. Everything I did tired me out and when I get like this, I know I need to rest and look after myself. This is what I used to do wrong. I used to just keep going because I had to. I had kids who relied on me. Who had time to stop and self care?

These days my tune has changed. I look after myself, so I can help those who rely on me better. I do

nice stuff - write on my blog, sit in a coffee shop and drink nice coffee, cook a treat. Above all I sleep.

And it works. Today after a five day downward spiral my mood is lifting and I feel a lot better, which is great because today the cousin is making the trek up to my town for a visit. He is presently on a five hour bus trip to get here. In Maltese terms, he has probably gone around the island a thousand times so far.

I really hope he sees a kangaroo cos he really wants to see a kangaroo.

But back to depression and why I wanted to write about it. I have started getting messages from people who follow my blog... and for the record I love it when people leave me comments/messages. A couple of messages lately have been from people suffering from depression and going through terrible ordeals, especially with their own health.

Now I'm no doctor but I am a professional patient. I don't know why I get depression, but the fact is I do. When you look at all the " crap" I've had to go through in the last 30 years, people always say:
 " No wonder. Poor thing"! And yes they're right. But, if you're waiting to have a life that is as rotten as mine before you seek help, then you have rocks in your head.

Depression is real. If you have depression do what it takes - see a doctor, take medications, exercise, write blogs...Do whatever you need to feel better ,because everything's so much better when your head clears. And don't worry about what other people may or may not think. You only get one life and you can't enjoy it with a grey cloud residing in your head.

Till next time...xxx

MAYBE TOMORROW

So yesterday was a bad day. Yesterday I let it all get to me. Cowdens, fistulas, five hour trips to Perth, career in tatters, the doctors visits, the hospitals, the aching bodies, the medications, the bills....it all got the better of me and I let it win.

So today my blog is not about yesterday, because to write about that would make today bad too. I won't let it win two days in a row even though I want to because I am so tired.

For something different I sat at the computer and wrote a short story. It's not about me. I have no idea whom it's about but she seems as frustrated with life as I am at the moment.

I won't say enjoy because it's a bit weird.

MAYBE TOMORROW

Apparently waking up is a good start but regardless of this I want to stay in bed and hide under my doona cover. I like it there. It's safe, cocooned in fabric and it would be perfect except for the fact that I can still hear them calling my name.

They call me at all hours. They entice me with strange words and watch me from corners. I know they're there but I have no words for them. I just do as they say but they're  frustrating and hard to please.

Sometimes I get scared, like the other day when they were angry and they sent rats. I could see those tails hanging over my wardrobe door and felt fear and disgust. I popped a pill that night and the rats went away. The voices went away too and the doona enveloped me. I concentrated on my toes and my breathing, like the frazzled woman said.... and I slept.

So I'm up and apparently that's a good start.

I check the kitchen for rats and it seems we're good to go. The voices mock me and tease me for my fear. They know I'm tired but they enjoy themselves regardless. And I let them.

The doona calls me back and I explain that I can't because I need to work. He seems to understand. He watches me dress and says nothing because the voices are moaning. They are upset about something and I feel it's because of my clothes. I change again and again until they stop, until they're happy.

I lock the house and scan the area. The voices warn me. I unlock the house and check again. Something is not right. Their tone is beginning to scare me . The voices are yelling. I am dressed for work and the voices are yelling.

A car drives by. I am being watched. It's been happening for a while. Spies everywhere. I am frazzled like the woman I visit, because the voices are yelling and now spies are everywhere.

I go back into the house and I take off my shoes. Blue shoes. The voices stop and I remember today is Wednesday and the voices don't like blue on Wednesday. I'm exhausted but relieved. The voices have stopped and I wonder if the spies have gone and if they know the blue rule.

I have a problem. My black shoes are dirty and ripped and I can't wear them to work. I would be a laughing stock and the voices would get cross. I sit down while the kettle makes me a cup of tea and decide that going to work will have to wait. So much for the good start to my day.

I am angry with the voices and they know it. I lash out and tea splashes everywhere. I don't care. It's only my second best china cup. The spies stole my favourite.

The doona yells something obscene at me and I blush. The voices giggle. They like the doona and push me towards my bed. I'm angry. I want to go to work not bed.

The chorus of voices escalates and I remember. Today I can't wear blue. Today I can't go to work. May as well go back to sleep.

I cocoon myself in my doona.

I am safe.
The voices mutter something but I'm too busy relaxing my toes to care.
Maybe tomorrow.


Till next time...xxx