So this post will probably be a bit of a downer as I'm not in the best of places at the moment. I haven't written a post in so long because i haven't really felt the need (which is a good thing). Unfortunately, things have taken a turn for the worse regarding my mental stability and i thought it might help to unload all my thoughts and feelings onto here. There is your warning, please don't read if it's going to upset/trigger/piss you off.
I think people who have never experienced a mental illness don't truly understand how absolutely exhausting it can be. I feel like i am at war with my own mind, constantly trying to ignore and reject the thoughts that keep invading. Thoughts like "You're useless at your job", "No one actually likes you", "You're a waste of space". If i sat here and listed all of the irrational, illogical, invasive thoughts i had, we could be here till Christmas. It's just exhausting. And what makes it even worse, is that I KNOW they aren't true. I know that I'm good at my job as i've had many lovely colleagues tell me so. I know that people like me because i have questioned them and they have replied with "Of course!". And i know i'm not a waste of space because i do try hard to fight this battle and i want to help make a difference. The trouble is, just because I know these things, doesn't stop the thoughts from swirling in my head. And when you have a thought in your head for long enough, you start to wonder whether it is actually true. And when you've been fighting against these thoughts for what feels like forever, sometimes you just have to let them win.
I think one of the reasons that mental illness has always been surrounded in stigma is because you can't see it. You can't see that a person who is smiling, bright and bubbly on the outside is actually fighting a war on the inside. It's much easier to be sympathetic with someone who is puking their guts up than it is to someone who seems ok. In the past, I've rung in sick and felt the need to lie, saying i've had stomach bugs when really it is my brain being a dick because I was worried what they would think of me. Would they think i was lazy? Couldn't be bothered to get out of bed? Pulling a sickie? It's much easier to say "I'm not coming in today because i can't leave the toilet" than to say "I can't come in because me and my brain are at war and i'm exhausted and want to hide under a duvet all day because i feel like i can't move or breathe". Luckily for me, my work are very understanding and have given me a lot of support. But this isn't the case everywhere and I'm sure many people have felt the need to pretend they are physically ill rather than mentally.
It is also extremely difficult to justify the fact that you aren't in work. "What do you mean you can't move? Just get up". Sounds oh-so-simple and yet, there are days when you physically can't. I've had days where i will just sit and stare at something, like the washing machine, for hours. Just sat doing nothing but breathing and blinking. I keep telling myself to move but it's almost as if my body won't listen. And then, when you 'snap out of it', you feel so guilty for not being at work, or not doing anything, because everyone else is, and they can cope, and they don't have to have time off work because they can't move. Of course, the guilt makes you feel worse and you get lower, so you have more days where you can't move and can't go into work, making you feel more guilty - and so the spiral begins. One of the joys of depression, is the depression spiral; you get frustrated that you're depressed and feel useless, making you feel more depressed and more useless, and so on. Many people believe that it is this pattern of negative thinking that keeps depression going. But have you ever tried to change the way you think? It's not the easiest thing in the world.
And before you ask, no there isn't a reason. There isn't a cause. There isn't anything that has happened to make me feel worse. Unfortunately it doesn't work that way. I woke up on Sunday morning feeling as if the world was on top of me, suffocating me and that feeling hasn't quite lifted yet. I realise this post is very "woe is me, my life sucks" but actually my life doesn't suck. I love my life. I love my job, my friends, my family. I'm just unlucky to be one of the millions of people who have to live with a mental illness everyday of their life. And sometimes, you just need a good moan!
Wednesday 23 September 2015
Sunday 1 March 2015
Self Injury Awareness Day 2015 (trigger warning)
Wow. Firstly i'd like to say that i'm sorry i haven't written anything in 7 months...! I guess life caught up with me a bit. Also, I haven't felt the urge or the need to write anything despite there being lots to write about. I'm happy to say that things are going extremely well in my life. I have a job that I absolutely adore and for once, i feel like i know where i stand in life. Whilst i do have the occasional freak out over the fact that i am a grown up now, no longer in education, working a proper full time job, i feel pretty stable (not sure how i feel about that word but hey, it's going in for now). But I don't always feel this way and for a long time, every day was a challenge. And so we come to my reason for writing this post - it is Self Injury Awareness Day. I guess you could say this is my story/confession/experience.
I've never really talked about my self harming in much detail to anyone, apart from very close friends. The first time i self harmed, i was probably around 14 or 15 (I don't remember exactly) and at the time, i didn't get the relief that i would later on. It hurt. And i thought 'God, why do people do this?' I didn't feel better afterwards, i just felt stupid for having tried it in the first place. I remember that i only managed a small scratch on my leg. But then things started to get worse and i felt like i couldn't breathe, couldn't move for the weight pressing down on me. I felt like i was going to explode at any moment and the only thing i could think of was to try again, to try and get that release that i so desperately needed. And i did. All the emotional pain and confusion i was feeling could suddenly be turned into something physical, something i could see. It somehow made everything more real, made me feel less like i was drifting, invisible to others. I started cutting myself most nights, mainly on my legs where i knew no one would be able to see.
I moved from my legs to my arms. I remember feeling like i wanted someone to see. I wanted someone to know what i was going through. So many people say how self harm is just attention seeking, and perhaps there is an element of it. When you feel so alone and isolated from everyone else, can you blame a person for wanting someone to notice that things aren't ok? All you want is for someone to understand, to help. But at the same time, you don't want to be a burden on others, you don't want people to judge you or think you're a 'freak'. I was now self harming in a place which other people could easily see. But i didn't want them to. I began wearing long sleeved tops, even if it was hot out. I'd try any excuse not to go swimming at school and took extra care in the changing rooms. But it never felt like enough. Sure, it would give me some relief, make things seem a little more easy. But i'd wake up the next day and be back to square one, feeling like there was a weight on my chest. I felt like i was continually treading water, it was exhausting. For me, it got to the stage where self harm wasn't enough anymore and i started to feel suicidal. I won't go into details about this moment in my life, as i still struggle to talk about it, and generally wish that i could forget that it ever happened. I can't imagine the pain that i must have put my family and friends through. And i still feel guilty about it, even though it was 7 years ago. All i can say is that i felt like i had no other option.
Things started to get better. I started seeing a councillor every week and it helped a lot to talk about how i was feeling. But it still didn't keep the thoughts at bay. I was still self-harming, although it wasn't on as regular a basis as it had been. I was put on antidepressants when i was 16, and i've been on them in some form or another ever since.
I think that with self harm, once you have felt that relief, you are constantly trying to find it again. It becomes a cushion you can fall back on when things aren't going so well. Because you know that self harming will give you that release, it becomes something that you know is going to help. I'm happy to say that for the most part, i'm good at ignoring these urges. But i have had a few 'relapses' i guess you could call them. I had a pretty bad one over summer, but i haven't self harmed since then. I find it much easier to talk about now, and i know which friends i can talk to who won't judge me for feeling the way i do. I think having days such as SIAD and Mental Health Awareness Day really are helping to break through the stigma surrounding mental health issues. And i hope, by writing this post, I'm helping in a small way.
I've never really talked about my self harming in much detail to anyone, apart from very close friends. The first time i self harmed, i was probably around 14 or 15 (I don't remember exactly) and at the time, i didn't get the relief that i would later on. It hurt. And i thought 'God, why do people do this?' I didn't feel better afterwards, i just felt stupid for having tried it in the first place. I remember that i only managed a small scratch on my leg. But then things started to get worse and i felt like i couldn't breathe, couldn't move for the weight pressing down on me. I felt like i was going to explode at any moment and the only thing i could think of was to try again, to try and get that release that i so desperately needed. And i did. All the emotional pain and confusion i was feeling could suddenly be turned into something physical, something i could see. It somehow made everything more real, made me feel less like i was drifting, invisible to others. I started cutting myself most nights, mainly on my legs where i knew no one would be able to see.
I moved from my legs to my arms. I remember feeling like i wanted someone to see. I wanted someone to know what i was going through. So many people say how self harm is just attention seeking, and perhaps there is an element of it. When you feel so alone and isolated from everyone else, can you blame a person for wanting someone to notice that things aren't ok? All you want is for someone to understand, to help. But at the same time, you don't want to be a burden on others, you don't want people to judge you or think you're a 'freak'. I was now self harming in a place which other people could easily see. But i didn't want them to. I began wearing long sleeved tops, even if it was hot out. I'd try any excuse not to go swimming at school and took extra care in the changing rooms. But it never felt like enough. Sure, it would give me some relief, make things seem a little more easy. But i'd wake up the next day and be back to square one, feeling like there was a weight on my chest. I felt like i was continually treading water, it was exhausting. For me, it got to the stage where self harm wasn't enough anymore and i started to feel suicidal. I won't go into details about this moment in my life, as i still struggle to talk about it, and generally wish that i could forget that it ever happened. I can't imagine the pain that i must have put my family and friends through. And i still feel guilty about it, even though it was 7 years ago. All i can say is that i felt like i had no other option.
Things started to get better. I started seeing a councillor every week and it helped a lot to talk about how i was feeling. But it still didn't keep the thoughts at bay. I was still self-harming, although it wasn't on as regular a basis as it had been. I was put on antidepressants when i was 16, and i've been on them in some form or another ever since.
I think that with self harm, once you have felt that relief, you are constantly trying to find it again. It becomes a cushion you can fall back on when things aren't going so well. Because you know that self harming will give you that release, it becomes something that you know is going to help. I'm happy to say that for the most part, i'm good at ignoring these urges. But i have had a few 'relapses' i guess you could call them. I had a pretty bad one over summer, but i haven't self harmed since then. I find it much easier to talk about now, and i know which friends i can talk to who won't judge me for feeling the way i do. I think having days such as SIAD and Mental Health Awareness Day really are helping to break through the stigma surrounding mental health issues. And i hope, by writing this post, I'm helping in a small way.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)