Living in a Dark Room

Living with depression is like living in a dark room, completely black with not even the slightest hint of light. You’re alone, you’re scared, and you feel like you’ll never get out of there. You’re trapped. You have two choices:

  1. You accept that you’re stuck there and will never get out. So, you sit there alone in a dark room where you will live out the rest of your days. You give up.
  2. You search for a way out. You feel around for a door or a window. You find a single candle and a single match. You light the candle and begin to see that there is a way to get out. You have hope.

Which do you choose? Do you just stop everything and give up or do you search for the tiniest bit of light?  Anyone who has ever had to live with depression would most likely choose to just give up, to stop trying. But you can’t. I know for a fact that it is easier said than done. You have to search for the tiniest glimmer of light because that tiny glimmer will begin to shine brighter and brighter. The light will show you that you are not alone. You can get out of the room, you won’t be trapped.

Living with depression is an everyday struggle. A struggle that only those who live it understand. Some days you have to force yourself to get out of bed, you’d much rather sleep the day away and dream of a life that you think is better than your own. Some nights you get no sleep, you spend the night thinking of all of things you’ve done wrong in your life. Some days you have no appetite and don’t eat, other days you eat too much because it comforts you. You constantly feel like everything you do is wrong, you hate yourself. You could be surrounded by dozens of people and yet still feel completely alone. You feel like a burden to others and that you bring them down. Some days are better than others. You have to live and look forward to the good days.

For those who say people with depression that they need to cheer up, it isn’t that easy. The images of our lives have been distorted (and not in a good way), telling us to “cheer up” doesn’t help, it makes us feel like you’re belittling us. For those who say people use anti-depressants as “happy pills” are most likely uneducated on the severity of depression. They aren’t used to make people feel “happy”, they are used to fix a chemical imbalance in the brain, as well as helping with the signs and symptoms of depression which make every day life so difficult that people choose to end it. You need to help end the stigma of mental illness not encourage it.

For every single person living with depression, you are not alone no matter how much you believe it, you’re wrong. You can make it out of the dark room and live the life you dream of. Find people who understand you and that you can talk to. Fight. Find hope. Never ever give up. You were put on this Earth for a reason, find that reason. I believe that every single person living with depression can find the light in the dark room. I know it’s hard, and you might not want to, but you have to because you are worth so much more than spending the rest of your life in a dark room.

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An uneasy relationship with my blanket fort

Sex blog (of sorts)

I love my bed. I don’t iron my bedlinen, instead I use jersey cotton, which feels just like your comfiest T-shirt, in Summer, and flannel in Winter. Both create a snuggly, inviting heaven. I have the perfect number of pillows, books all over the place, and I sleep naked. I know how to make my bed somewhere I want to be.

And for the most part, I do want to be there. I go to bed too late, but I don’t struggle with insomnia once I’m in. I hit snooze again and again in the mornings. I lie in at weekends and I’ll take a two hour journey home in the early hours if it means I can sleep under my own duvet.

But depression and anxiety have made my relationship with it a little more complex. There’s lots of great writing out there about the impact of depression and associated…

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The Battle

defcon

This is a little poem I wrote a few years back, while struggle with depression. Enjoy
The Battle

As I stand alone
the field within my sight
my stomach like a stone
my mind set to fight.

Though I stand alone
I hear you in my thoughts
in all the things I’ve done
and all I should have not.

I search within my soul
for the truth I cannot find
trying to find my whole
I search within my mind

Truth is found within
But not without a fight
A life without a sin
Is life without a night

Though it brought me pain
I learned a lesson well
My heart is pure as rain
Inside the truth it dwells

So if you are in trouble
Hold your head not low
For though you are in rubble
Your heart will lead you so.

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Panic Attack

Quiet

Just a minute ago you were feeling fine
Then fear flooded your mind
It came out of nowhere
Now it feels as if you’ve been flung in the air
Feeling all over the place
Wanting to be someplace safe
Intense feeling of dread
So much is going on in your head
All of this anxiety
Struggling to breathe
Pulse is beating fast
Soon this will be over
Thank goodness it won’t last
There is nothing cute about this feeling
It’s nowhere near thrilling
This happening makes you feel so afraid
You just want it to stay away
Doesn’t matter the mood you are in
It will be there to visit again.

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Dealing with Anxiety

Dealing with Anxiety

flowersAs mentioned in my last post, today I will be discussing a few ways I deal with my anxiety.

I have been diagnosed with GAD and depression. Now, looking at my past and my life as a whole, I have no reason to have depression. However, it is a common thing to have with anxiety. For those of  you with anxiety, you might understand where I’m coming from. All you want to do is lay around, not want to leave the house, etc. Some are worse than others. For those of you that do not have anxiety, maybe you have depression. Which ever the case may be, know you are not alone.

I realize that I tend to say that phrase a lot. The biggest reason being when I first found out that I had anxiety I DID feel alone. I want to offer you the friend I…

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Let’s talk about romanticism and stigma 

Rebuilding Resilience

Depression isn’t sitting alone in coffee shops and black beanies and listening to my chemical romance. It’s not having a couple of days where you’re sad because something bad in your life happens. It isn’t your boyfriend kissing your scars and having your world fall back together again.

I mean, it certainly can be.

But realistically, it’s not.

Depression is not being able to buy swimsuits because nothing covers the scars on your thigh from 2+ years ago.

Depression is filthy hospital floors and nurses calling codes for violent or uncooperative patients.

Depression is months after your hospitalization because of how long you romanticized it, still spending more time thinking about suicide than your family or friends.

Depression is smiling in public when you were up the whole night before sobbing hysterically into your pillow.

Depression is not being able to get out of bed on a Saturday, even when…

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Depression Isn’t Simple

EB

Let’s talk about the “D” word. The “D” word is the word that I refused to hear and use for years because I didn’t want to be real or true. I didn’t want to be someone who just threw the word around to describe how I felt after getting a bad grade or spilling food on my shirt. It wasn’t real or it was an exaggeration. I wasn’t depressed.

I remember those anxieties of being in high school, going through so many changes and being told simultaneously everything mattered so much and nothing matters because you’re just in high school. I remember changing schools in middle school to a challenging college preparatory that only made me feel small and dumb. I remember randomly crying and wanting to run away and hoping to not wake up the next day. Then I remember starting to college, meeting people, having that fresh start…

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Sometimes

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Sometimes I just want to throw in the bag and just give up. I don’t want to keep going, it’s too hard. I hurts to get up in the morning. It hurts to pretend I’m okay when I am far from it. I know it will get better, but right now it just took a turn for the worse.

Sometimes I want to just cave in and cut again. What’s another dozen scars? It’s not like they’re going anywhere anytime soon. They’ll always be there as a constant reminder. Maybe I’ll resist the urge this time, but who knows about the next.

Sometimes I just want to scream. I want to pull all my hair out and punch the wall until my hands bleed. But what’s the point, in the end I’m still going to hurt, I will still have the same gnawing ache in my body.

In the end, I’m just drowning, I won’t ever be able to reach the top. I won’t be able to get air.

Broken Heart

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All I ever wanted was to be with you. For you to hold me in your arms and tell me how much you loved me. But no matter how hard I try that will never happen. I was stupid to believe you would ever feel the same way about me as I did you. I gave you everything I had and it wasn’t enough.

You broke my heart so many times and I still came back to you every time. It was my choice and it was stupid. I was so caught up in what we could be that I missed the signs that it would never be.

I don’t know if you actually cared about me, you claim you do but I don’t know what to believe. I don’t know if I actually meant anything to you or if it was all fake. I’m so lost, confused and hurt. For some stupid reason I blame myself. I feel like I was never good enough for you.  You will never read this so there is no point in writing this. You were my best friend and now I don’t know if we can be friends again.