It’s two years today since the worst day of my life. I’ve spent the last couple of weeks trying to prepare myself for it. Then it turned up and it was essentially nothing.
I woke up, went to work, and came home. It has shocked me how little I’ve thought about it.
Last year, I was still terrified that I would slip back and that I wouldn’t be able to stop myself if I felt like that again. I still felt lost within my own head and my thoughts a lot of the time worried me.
Now, I can’t believe that it’s been another year. Since then, I’ve been made redundant, spent a few months unemployed and had my heart broken yet again. I’ve watched a huge number of my friends leave the country and had to build up the resources to be able to manage a bad day on my own.
I have come to a point where I feel stronger. I am still worried, I don’t think that will ever leave me. I will always wonder, ‘what if another day like that happens?’
The day is significant this year because I now feel well enough to start to wean off my anti-depressants. It’s a huge thing for me and there is hesitation about doing it. I’m not sure how much of my progress has been the drugs and how much has been me.
It’s not a coincidence that this is happening during my 100 days without men. I haven’t wanted to do this when I had someone in my life who might be able take it on with me.
I need to know that I can do this without having someone there to get me through the bad days and nights. I need to be able to do this without taking away the tablets and replacing them with something else.
I need to do this on my own.
