I think that a lot of people think that depression is wanting to commit suicide. Let me be very clear. I do not want to die, but some days I don't want to live. Make sense? No?? Let me explain.
There are days that I don't want to be me. I don't want to be Lou. I don't want to be Mum, Wife, Sister, Daughter, Friend or anyone. I just want to disappear. I want to get in my car, drive and drive and drive until I can't drive anymore (that wouldn't be long, coz if you ask Steve, I wouldn't have enough petrol in my car to get me very far). But seriously. I just do not want to have any responsibility, no need to offer advice (one of my fave things to do as we've established). I just want to be a stranger in a coffee shop that smiles politely at the next table, not have any need to talk, think or do anything. Just be. Alone.
Depression can be a very lonely place, but sometimes I just need to be alone.
Last week when I published my blog, I had an influx of texts from my nearest and dearest friends saying 'I'm around next week, let's meet up' 'You know where I am if you want to talk' And I appreciate it so much, coz it's always nice to hear that people care. But I was in a bit of a funk where I needed to just be alone.
I spent a whole day in my front garden making it beautiful, my earphones on blaring out some of the oldest garage tunes known to man, and lost in my thoughts. I actually started the day feeling quite sad and I ended it feeling really upbeat and happy. My intention was to cut the front garden grass, and it ended up with weeding the driveway, trimming hedges, ripping up old plants that were half dead... it was like my form of therapy for the day. I couldn't move the next day, but that's neither here nor there. It cleansed my mind for the day, and now I have a really pretty front garden.
I posted a little Meme on Facebook the other day. This is what it said.
Having anxiety and depression is like being scared and tired at the same time.
It's the fear of failure but no urge to be productive.
It's wanting friends but hating socialising.
It's wanting to be alone, but not wanting to be lonely.
It's caring about everything then caring about nothing.
It's feeling everything at once, then feeling paralyzingly numb.
You know when you read something in a book or online and you think 'wow, I couldn't have written that better myself.' Well, this really jumped out and spoke to me. And for someone without mental health problems, it's probably hard to understand. You don't need to understand, you just have to be empathetic.
I've thanked my long suffering husband many times over the years of writing my blog (and in person too by the way), but I do want to give a huge shout out to Steve. Without that man, I honestly don't know where i'd be. I fear that one day he'll think 'I can't handle this bullshit anymore' and walk away from me. God, I bloody hope not...who the hell else would put up with me and my weirdness...depression aside...i'm hard work.
Steve hates it when I go through one of these phases. He hates to watch me over analyse everything, crying for no reason, feeling completely exhausted with my own thoughts, spaced out on a new dose of anti depressants, being extraordinarily shouty with The Kid...the list goes on. But in all of his support to me, he's suffering too. He's carrying me, being the main parent to Amelie, working full time, having to make decisions that I usually do because I am far too overwhelmed to decide on anything right now. And then he says the wrong thing to me... how very dare he. Yes, i'm a bitch at the best of times, but now I'm completely irrational too. And he has to put up with that as well. Fuck, how the hell have we been married for 12 years. I must be really good in bed or he really likes my cooking or something.
Sometimes, Steve will say the 'wrong' thing, and sometimes I bite his head off because of it. Sometimes, I just nod and walk away, have a cry and then realise i'm being over the top. (Steve much prefers it when I do this). But I've got to hand it to the Big Fella. He's a bloomin diamond, and I know that everyone who reads this and knows him will agree with me.
All together now...
For he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good fellow......
Anyway, a quick update on my state of mind today. I'm feeling good. I didn't sleep wonderfully, which is kind of a thing at the moment, so at 6am, I decided to come down stairs, puff up the cushions in the living room, put some washing on, and write in my blog.
As I look around my beautiful home and down into my amazing garden, I feel good, I feel happy (that's today by the way...who knows what crazy bat shit i'll turn into tomorrow), and I know that today is going to be a good day. Steve is going to work for a few hours, so Amelie and I are going to do a little gardening, maybe go out on the bikes and spend some time in the fresh air, and then we'll have a nice evening together when Steve gets home.
It's half term next week, so i'm booked off work and going to spend some quality time with my baby girl (who hates being called baby girl at 9 years old) and prepare myself for my return to work next week.
I don't think that this blog edition is speaking about anything in particular, just a mixture of thoughts and emotions, but something made me want to write this morning. And writing is excellent therapy. So until next time...stay healthy... in Mind, Body and Spirit.
