Mental health is a funny thing. Well. It's anything but funny actually. And the death of a beloved actor who made so many laugh yet was tormented with demons bring it to light.
So many I 'know' on twitter struggle with depression. Some tell me about it in private. The highs and the lows. The way the meds make them feel. How they attempt to get on with daily life. And how hard it is. Enveloped in blackness. Like wading through treacle. Some strive to make others smile and laugh and others withdraw and go silent.
My last year at Uni was a struggle. Burnt out. Exhausted. Low. Depressed. The combination of extreme stress through workload and the side effect of chronic fatigue due to the drugs I was on.
It was heavy. I was heavy. All I could think about was how exhausted I was. And cry.
Luckily a new consultant listened to me. And I was. At last. Taken off the drugs rather than prescribed lorazepam.
I escaped depression as a large part of it was due to drugs I was on. So many cannot.
I didn't really talk to anyone about how I felt. I wrote and tweeted. I didn't really see anyone. I couldn't face it. All I could do was go to Uni and be at home. Cancelling on friends became the norm. But messages and emails kept me going. And twitter kept me going.
I am now through it and have been for a few months. I cannot imagine never escaping and the only way to be free is to die. I do not judge or think why did they do that. How awful of them to leave behind xyz. They did not do it to be selfish. They did it because it was the only way they could see their way out.
I understand this a little. An uncle committed suicide when I was little. He thought he was doing what was best for everyone else. It was not an act of selfishness.
'We' the general public do not understand mental health. There is a growing awareness which tragically high profile deaths, like the one today of Robin Williams, will help raise it further.
Be kind to others, no one knows what is going on behind a smile. Do not ridicule or blame or wish they would 'snap out of it'. Accept and support. Remember. A message saying 'thinking of you' can mean the world to someone. If someone falls off the radar do not be angry and assume they are being shit. Maybe they just can't talk about what is happening.
I have stood and teetered on the edge of the deep gulf of darkness and depression. I was able to pull back. Remember those who are desperately trying to claw their way up that massive rock wall face.
And if I hear anyone be dismissive of mental health, I promise you this, I will go fucking mental at them.
If you need help and feel that you can't talk to a friend or family member, there are loads of numbers and organisations who are there for you:
http://www.nhs.uk/Conditions/stress-anxiety-depression/Pages/mental-health-helplines.aspx
With love and a candle flame of hope,
XxX
I was diagnosed with Old Man's Cancer (Chronic Myeloid Leukaemia) on the 19th January 2007 when I was 22. This is an open honest blog about what it's like living with a user-friendly cancer, taking pill chemotherapy daily, possibly for life, and everything that goes alongside it.
Tuesday, 12 August 2014
Monday, 4 August 2014
A Realisation Whilst Shelling Broad Beans
So my lovely bloglets,
The last few months, well year, has been
one of an awakening in many ways. I can blame it all on one of my modules
- The Therapeutic Relationship. Journaling, reading theory, realising
what makes us behave in the way that we do, tracing it back. It's
liberating, and it also brings up a lot of shit.
Along with dealing with all the cancer
shit, which I have done a lot of already, believe it or not. I now need
to work on me. Not necessarily the inner me, in many ways I am so happy to
be me, I like me, I am at peace with me which cancer and everything I have
dealt with confirms. I now need to deal with the outer me. My appearance
or rather how I see it. I have touched on this before, and I wrote my
last post about it.
I think now, it's time to tell you a
little story, forgive me if I have told you before, it appears that is all goes
back to this event.
Let me introduce you to a little girl
called Katie. She is at school. She has not been at school for that
long, but is happy there, she is about 6. She has her friends and can't wait
for after the long holiday because she knows she will then be in a new
classroom. But after the holiday she goes back into the same classroom.
She doesn't understand why. She knows she should be in a different room
but she isn't. And she doesn't know why.
And after that. She began to put on
weight. She believes she is fat and ugly. She believes that she
isn't good enough. And today, whilst shelling broad beans, I realised.
I have thought for the last 22 years that I'm not good enough.
This is massive. I now know what I
need to work on. I need to realise that I am good enough, that it wasn't
my fault. I spend all my time apologising, even when whatever has
happened is nothing to do with me, and I couldn't have an impact on the
outcome. I feel responsible all the time. Because. I wasn't
good enough.
The reality was that there wasn't space in
the classroom for another desk and as I was a year ahead of myself at that
point the school pulled me back. I have been told it was explained to me.
I don't remember this. I just remember walking into that classroom
again and being so confused.
I am going home on Sunday and then my
therapy on this begins. With my mother using EFT and Matrix
Re-imprinting. I will go back to that moment, and I will tell little me
that it's ok. I will take away the trauma. And then. I can forgive
myself and heal.
I am also, making progress, slowly but surely with how I look. And
being brave enough to put this photo on here and twitter is proof that I
am. I can look at this and be happier
with how I am. Well, I wouldn’t mind being a little bit brown, but I am looking
good enough.
I am good enough.
With love and so much hope,
XXX
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