My books and other Gingernuts

Monday, 13 April 2015

So let's talk about my depression.

So you finally go to the doctors as your family and friends have been worrying about you, you’re not yourself. You’ve been ‘down’ and don’t want to do anything. You sit with the doctor and feel stupid as you rub your hands together and avoid looking at the doctor as you mumble about being forced to come. Life is pretty shit for you at the moment and this is embarrassing. You’re at the bottom of a deep hole and you can’t climb out, you’ve tried but the holes just been getting deeper for months.
GET OVER IT, SORT YOURSELF OUT, STOP BEING SO BLOODY MOODY.

You’ve said this to yourself far more than it’s been said to you, let’s face it you’ve failed. You’re worthless and you just want to be left alone.
Then the doctor explains that actually you’re not worthless or a failure but you’re ill. What you are showing is the symptom of your illness, what you have is a real thing and it can be treated so you can get your life back. So you sit at the bottom of your hole and feel worse, how could you be so weak? How can you tell people you’re depressed, they’ll look at you and judge you. It’s all over the news about people with depression and how they sponge off of society, they’re not right in the head. So you shuffle out of the doctors with your ‘happy pills’ and an appointment to come back in two weeks and you just want to hide away and cry.
Your family are supportive and understanding but you’re just numb, then again you’ve been numb for months. You don’t care because you can’t, there’s no spark of life just the deep hole you’re sitting in. People will judge you, they will treat you different because you’re mental, a nutter. Not that you care, the tablets won’t start to kick in for a couple of weeks and it’s not until that happens that that will worry you.
You have an illness but it’s not one society likes, it’s a shameful illness that people hate and fear. People are shunned for mental health problems, they whisper behind your back about you. You should just snap out of it, pull your socks up and stop being a burden. It’s the mental people who go on killing sprees; they’re not safe to be around.

Well to all the people who think like that I’d just like to say a nice big

FUCK YOU.

I was ill, depression is a sickness but with medicine I got better. I’m not the person I used to be because now I’m stronger and I’m not ashamed. I got out of that hole and beat my illness, it may come back again but if it does I’ll beat it again. Many people suffer from mental health and not one person ever skipped out of the doctors with a smile because they could claim extra benefits. People with long term mental health illnesses don’t sit there cutting themselves while laughing about the extra money they get. They muddle through life waiting for the next episode when there life will fall apart. Yes you may see them living their life and smiling as they walk around but you won’t see them hiding from the world unable to cope. You won’t see their loved ones bandaging their wrists to cover the cut marks so their kids won’t see or sitting by their bed worrying as they took another overdose. You won’t see the panic attacks or understand the compulsions that can drive them. There is no amount of ‘benefits’ that can make living with that worth it.
There is a reason people say you suffer from mental health problems but the stupid and ignorant will never work it out. Our government and media can spin their lies to make us an enemy, a drain on the tax paying people who don't get it. Well maybe now you may get it a little more and actually think about the truth of mental illness and how you can help stop the attacks on those who suffer from it.

1 comment:

  1. Living with depression for others? Many times I have been on the verge of taking my own life, I mean what’s the point of living in misery? “There are people who are a lot worse off.” No there aren’t, you can be stinking rich and take your own life, reality is what goes on in your head. If that only offers you darkness, the abyss, no joy, no pleasure in anything, just existing from day to day, then you’re already dead. Could anyone who doesn’t suffer from depression survive with it? What would inspire you to go on? Pizza maybe? No, it is a living HELL. For some of us suicide is a daily plan which we do not execute because of what it would do to those we leave behind. So we continue to function, a part of us always standing on that ledge.

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