Battling Anxiety & Depression

the beauty swatch (www.thebeautyswatch.com)

I’ve been putting off writing this post for some time now. Purely because I don’t know where to start or how to angle this as a message to you guys. So I’ve decided to just start from the beginning. Please remember that I am not a doctor and all of what I’m writing here is my own personal experience and opinions. If you suspect you might be experiencing anxiety and depression, speak to a family member or go to the doctors.

In the second year of college (2008) my mum was diagnosed with breast cancer. She was whisked in, had a mastectomy and full lymph node clearance and started on chemotherapy within a week. My mum was and still is my best friend. It got to the point where I didn’t know who I would be if she didn’t make it- I had no identity, no real grasp on who I was as a person.

My dad, bless him, isn’t very emotional and has always been guided by my mum as to what to do. As soon as mum became incapable of running the household, I assumed my dad would step up. Unfortunately he couldn’t and buried himself in his work. I decided to study at home so I could take my mum to all her chemo appointments and at 17 I suppose this was a little naive of me. I couldn’t cope to cut a long story short- I didn’t like seeing my mum in so much pain and not being able to help her, to see her so vulnerable and weak and the house falling apart. So I ran. Literally. This was the first sign of anxiety and depression for me, feeling insecure and scared, not wanting to do anything but sit in silence, observing life, with some kind of numbness.

Thankfully, my mum recovered with a little help from my sister (we share the same dad) who was living with us at the time, by taking over the journeys to hospital. My mum and I came to blows and our relationship suffered, not knowing then that I was actually depressed, but instead she was convinced I didn’t care whether she lived or died. As far as she was concerned, I’d abandoned her and I felt awful.

Moving to University in 2009 was very difficult for me. I was always a home bird and liked having my family and friends around me at all times and with my mum having just come out of therapy for her own anxiety and depression, I didn’t want to go. Things were still unstable at home, with the family not yet recovering from the effects the cancer had on our lives and on such an important person in our lives.

I moved into halls with 5 people I didn’t know, nor really got on with that well and was in a relationship that wasn’t healthy. My boyfriend at the time didn’t like me going out with friends, nor did he want me to make new ones. At the time I just shrugged it off — I mean I thought I was happy, I didn’t know any different. Inevitably my relationships suffered and I often felt lonely.

It came to the point where I was experiencing what I can only try to explain as internal turmoil. I couldn’t think straight, I wanted to scream, do something to release this intense sadness and loneliness I was feeling. I can’t remember all my thoughts at this time and it feels like a bit of a blur still, but I started to cut myself.

At the time it was a release, a physical pain for what I was feeling but couldn’t seem to shake off. A week or so later I found myself trying to cover up the wounds and knew I needed help. My parents were working away at the time and I called them in tears, saying I needed help. They were shocked to learn I’d been cutting myself and supported me in going to the doctors to discuss my issues.

The doctors were very helpful. Because I was at the stage of cutting, they prescribed me anti-depressants to get my baseline up to average. When someone is depressed, their ‘happiness’ level is already below average, so when something traumatic happens, they just dip lower and never quite recover back to that average baseline. That’s what the anti depressants do — they boost you up until your body can start producing that average level on its own again. Aside from this I was put forward for counselling, which long term proved to be very useful in getting my thoughts together and analysing them in a local and practical way (if that makes sense).

Since then I’ve had highs and lows. When in LA last year, I fell in love, like properly, head over heels, I will marry you right this second, unapologetic love. I was all set to move to LA, but then the commitment phobe in him appeared and broke my heart, without actually giving me a reason why he didn’t want to commit to me anymore. This man to whom I’d given my future, whom had spoken to me about children and getting married and even asked me to move in with him, just cut me off. I can’t explain the level of raw pain I felt, and still feel when writing these words, but again I sought help, saw a psychologist and have recovered to where I feel positive about life, happy in myself and content with where my life is heading.

That’s not to say the therapy in talking is a quick fix, nor does the pain ever really go away — it just gives you the tools to cope with what you’re feeling. Everyone has their struggles, and you will come to a point in life when you feel helpless and at a loss of what to do. But that’s okay. The only piece of advice I would give to someone who is struggling is to ask for help. Put the sharp object down, stop hurting yourself, because there are alternatives. You’re not only hurting yourself, you’re hurting those around you — if you don’t value yourself, at least value them and do something positive to turn your life around. It is possible and you can do it.

I hope this post has been helpful in some way to someone, somewhere in the world. Any comments are welcome, if you have a blog please do post your link, I love having a good read. ☺