I keep hesitating wether to write this or not. Even now, it takes me like 10 minutes to continue writing. I don’t know what it is that’s stopping me really. I have no problem talking about my mental health (or lack of it at some times), but at the same time I would never want to force it onto anyone! But you know what? You are here now, so I guess you are kind of interested. And if not, then go on surfing the web, I won’t mind!
I come from a small family. Just me, my mom and my dad. Seeing that I didn’t grow up with any siblings I got pretty much whatever I wanted. And by wanted I don’t mean material stuff, more like peace and quiet whenever I wanted. For you that maybe sounds like a dream. But that ”dream life” would come and bite me so hard later in life!
Up to the age of 24 I had lived my life pretty much in my own protected world, thinking that I had the perfect life and all my shit together. Except for one short relationship that fucked me up a bit.
Then life hit me. It hit me like a god damn wrecking ball right through the heart. First of all my dad, who I really hadn’t have the best relationship with stopped drinking and we started to rebuild our relationship. Just as we got on good terms with each other he got diagnosed with cancer.
And let me tell you my dad was no pansy. He was a police officer in good physical condition. He told me that everything was going to be fine and he would get thorough this. Well, he didn’t! I had to see my strong father fade away and die and there was nothing I could do! He had fought so hard to get sober and we had just got our relationship back on track. And then he dies?! Our trio has turned into a duo. My mom got really week and I had to kind of take the role as the parent. We somehow got through it and kept living our lives, though it would never be the same again.
Days turned into weeks that turned into months. I started to get really bad anxiety at this moment and used alcohol to numb it. I drank to escape my life. I drank to get some relief from the anxiety and all the sadness I felt. I drank myself into humiliation. I drank myself into accidents. I drank myself into total blackouts. But somehow I had to wake up to the same shitty life. A family that had fallen appart and got replaced with anxiety. And hangovers from hell.
Two years after my father died my grandmother, who I was very close to, died as well. This did not help with my depression and anxiety. No surprise it got worse and my first thought of wanting to die appeared. Since I am raised to be very independent I thought that I should manage this on my own, but eventually I came to the conclusion that I had to get professional help. Since I had (and still have) a strong sense of self preservation I ensured myself that I got to the doctor and got help.
Long story short here. I got medication that made me want to kill myself even more. I still drank like an alcoholic. Mixing medication, alcohol and a bicycle one night turned me into a maniac and I drove right into a concrete wall, cracked my forehead (not the skull, thank God), and hurt pretty much every part of my body and destroyed the bike. You would think this would make me stop drinking but it didn’t.
Again days turned to weeks that turned into month. Life went on. Partying the anxiety away.
I stopped taking the antidepressant after a few months. I kept on with my anxiety pills though. Mixing them with alcohol when I got really desperate.
Another year and a half went by after my grandmother died and then my uncle died. My already very small family had basically disappeared within just a few years and I had no idea what was happening. I got numb and kind of shrug my shoulders and thought ”Okay, who’s next? Why don’t you take them all at once and make the pain short!?” I should mention that I do not have a family of my own, so I’m pretty much alone in this.
As I said I got pretty numb after this. Didn’t care much. Especially not about myself. I couldn’t care less. I was kind of hoping something bad would happen to me so I didn’t have to do it myself. That’s probably why I drank myself helplessly drunk most of the times. That was my get away. Of course I had to wake up to even more anxiety than the night before. It was a very self destructive behaviour. All I wanted was someone to notice me screaming for help.
This takes us to this year. The year that I got enough. My thoughts of wanting to die got stronger than ever and I got more and more desperate. These feelings couldn’t be cured over a cup of coffee with friends. So I gave it one last try and contacted my local help center one more time. This time I was honest about my suicidal thoughts and I got transferred to a CBT-therapist. I had to take several tests and I was diagnosed with depression, and also anxiety that kind of goes hand in hand with depression.
I also acknowledged to myself that I had sort of a drinking problem and stopped cold turkey. I haven’t had a drop of alcohol in three months as I’m writing this. If it is for the rest of my life or not, I don’t know… We’ll see.
Anyway, I got a new medication. I was terrified to start taking it considering the side effects of the last medication. However, I braced myself, took my first pill, lay on the sofa and expected the worse.
But the ”worse” never came. You know, it’s like you are closing your eyes preparing for someone to hit you but the fist that is going to punch you never comes, and you slowly start to open one eye, hoping nothing is going to happen. Thats what it felt like. As I’m currently writing this I have just open both my eyes and I grant myself permission to feel at ease. Maybe there is hope this time?
Considering my therapy, I can’t go into all the details because you’d get bored out of your mind. And if you have been reading this far my guess is that you are pretty exhausted by now. But I can tell you that I have a lot to work on and I’m getting help by CBT – cognitive behavioral therapy, alongside my antidepressant.
To get back to my so called dream childhood. Let’s just say that it did not prepare me for the bitch called life. I am not a bitter person by any means and I actually love life, but nowadays you could say I’m more on guard of what might come for me.
I should mention that depression probably runs in my family, it is hereditary. You don’t just automatically get depression because some folks around you die. But it could be a trigger.
Finally I want to give you some advice if you don’t feel well. Seek out for help! I know it’s kind of an cliche at this point but it’s very important that you know there IS hope! And do not feel ashamed if you are sad, depressed or have anxiety. You do know that depression is an illness and that you need medication to restore your serotonin levels in your brain, right? You can’t think away these problems.
And even if it isn’t depression, maybe you are just feeling sad, tell someone! If you feel like you can’t tell anyone of your families or friends then call your local health center.
If you feel like you want to talk to me, or ask me some questions, just click on the ”Wanna talk?”-link and send me an email! Sometimes it’s easier to talk to someone you don’t know.
Take care everyone, remember that you are all valuable and life is worth living.
And thank you if you have read all through to the end. All my love to you!