Rediscovering Who You Are After a Depressive Episode
When the depression lifts; who is left? A personal narrative.
There are some things in life that can leave a person imprisoned in their own mind — depression is one of them.
Trigger Warning: This post contains references of suicide
Since the beginning of 2018, depression has had its gnarly grip on me and refused to let go. The depression was so bad and persistent that I made a serious attempt on my life and soon after was sectioned and admitted to a psychiatric ward.
I’m going to write a post on my experiences of being sectioned and being an inpatient in a psychiatric hospital, as well as receiving ECT at a later date.
I want to focus on what it’s like to completely lose yourself to depression — and how it feels trying to put everything back together again.
One of the hardest parts of this depressive episode has been when I’ve slightly come out of it and realised where I’ve been, what i’ve done and what I’ve lost.
Don’t get me wrong, being at the bottom of the deepest darkest pit wasn’t a joyful walk in the park, but to me, giving up felt so much easier than fighting.
Giving up wasn’t an option though. While I had given up on myself, others hadn’t and were fighting to keep me alive until I could fight for myself.
And that’s the point I’m at now, back in the community and taking control of my life again — at least trying to anyway.
Unfortunately being well enough to return home doesn’t automatically mean everything is back to normal and I’m cured. In fact I’m still low and struggling with many aspects of daily living. Who knew doing the pots could be so overwhelming? Don’t even get me started on cooking or showering…
But what I’m finding even harder than mundane tasks is rediscovering who I am. Depression stole my identity and my joy. Trying to find myself again while still feeling exhausted, low and riddled with anxiety is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.
Everything I knew and enjoyed feels like a distant memory and building myself back up feels like an impossible task. I struggle to remember what genuine happiness feels like. I’ve had glimpses of it, but the feeling doesn’t stick around.
In the early days after leaving hospital I struggled to remember how to socialise, even texting friends is difficult. I used to enjoy my job, crafts, church, volunteering, reading, driving with tunes blasting and singing at the top of my voice (even in traffic and very badly), going out with friends, going for meals out, long walks with the dogs, spending time with my husband and seeing family. All these things were so important to me but can still feel incredibly hard to do now. I either can’t remember how to do them, have no interest in them, get too anxious and overwhelmed, or physically can’t do them.
During the two year long depressive episode I decided to hand my notice in at work. I loved the job so much, being a Peer Support Worker in a children’s mental health crisis team was a huge passion of mine. But depression convinced me I would never be able to go back and that the depression was never going to leave. It also convinced me that I was utterly crap at being a Peer anyway so one would miss me. So after the depression finally started to lift I was left with a gaping hole and feelings of lack of worth because i’d given up such an incredible role and place in an amazing team. A part of my life that was so special to me was snatched away by darkness and hopelessness. I feel so lost.
I’ve found that one of the hardest things to deal with now the depression is lifting is guilt. It has been a hugely traumatic time for all involved. The suicide attempt was very serious and it’s a miracle I survived. Thinking about what that must have been like for people who love me really does cut deep. It physically hurts me to think about it, even thinking about it now, whilst writing this is making the tears fall. I know I was very unwell, but that doesn’t make the guilt any easier. I still did what I did, someone still had to find me and thinking about that is extremely painful and something i’m struggling to deal with.
Another really difficult part of the aftermath of depression is trying to get my life back on track and working out how to move forward. The amount of pressure I put on myself to be “normal” and able to function again is massive. No one else is pressurising me, just me. I really struggle to allow myself time to heal, time to find my feet and time to process. It’s like a little speech bubble is constantly there in my head pushing me to make something of myself even when i’m still struggling and still exhausted. I really need to cut myself some slack.
All of this is such a battle.
But I am trying.
Each day I get up, even when everything within me wants to stay under my duvet. I’m trying to be compassionate with myself and listen to loved ones when they say these things will take time and the only person who is pressuring me — is me.
Each day I’m trying to do little things I used to do with the hope that one day, I’ll rediscover Joy. I may not be the person I was but i’m trying my best to accept who I am now.
To those who have been through this and have come out the other side — I admire you because it isn’t easy, but you’ve shown me is that it is worth it.
For those who are at the bottom of the pit with no hope — please hold on and reach out for help. I know it doesn’t feel like it now but depression can be overcome.
And for those of you who are trying to fight your way out of depression, like me, be kind to yourself, take things a day at a time and remember — it isn’t a race, it’s a journey.
This post was posted on The Mighty in 2016. I have updated it to reflect where I am currently in my life.
Originally published at https://themighty.com.
