Depression and all its not cracked up to be

At the risk of upsetting my family and friends - or sparking an "are you ok?!" frenzy - I wanted to bring up one of the topics that I have to deal with - that I think is highly misunderstood - and something that I think is still stigmatised to a certain degree, simply because it's something too personal to have a "one title fits all" cover.  Depression, anxiety and suicide.


For the past month or two, I've spiraled backwards. Initially I thought it was because of my body's response to the surgery - it disliked it (immensely) and has fought me wholeheartedly the last 7 months since my monster staph-infection burst me at the seams.  I thought my crazy fatigue was from my body trying to heal itself - my emotional imbalances were from the poor results and the 'hurt' that comes with bitter disappointment.  I thought my weight gain was a kickback because of the emotional imbalances and a rebellious "what's the point" attitude that was filtering through.

… but then winter kicked in, the sunshine disappeared, and my yearly bought of SADs came to fruition. I've seen this pattern for the past few years - now that I'm more aware of my routines. SADs (seasonal affective disorder) isn't a rarity - I see it a lot in other people. Winter is a bugger for bringing this out in so many of us - and I'm certainly no stranger to the "winter blues" when it comes around. I live in Bathurst - it's cold and miserable in winter (with occasional bursts of sunshine to bring your hopes up - followed by a dismal day to drag you back down again!) - and if you're really not expecting it, there'll be snow in outlying areas, and the potential to see a penguin cross your path downtown!!  It's such a great place for feeling shit during winter (haha!) - which up until I lost my substantial layers of blubber, didn't even bother me!  It's been the last couple of years at "half my size" that it's really affected my body, and in turn, my head…

So as it turns out, I took a rapid spiral downwards - between the body not dealing with its recuperation, my headspace in a disjointed "I can't believe I messed my health up" guilt trip, the crazy anxiety that I'm STILL having issues with many months later…  and then the SADs knocking so violently on my doorstep - it was going to take me down.  I just got a little ignorant to see it coming.

… and down I went. 

I've been effectively "in hiding" for the past month or two. No - I wasn't ok.  I deleted a bulk lot of social media 'friends', I deleted myself from numerous groups and networks. I was ashamed of my weight gain - and the fact I was falling to pieces at the drop of a hat just seemed to bring me down even quicker.  I'd come home and bawl my eyes out, over seemingly nothing.  Granted, there were "life" things going on (SO many of them this year), and I was dealing the best way I could… but it wasn't enough.  I was hanging on with the skin of my teeth.  Fabulous teeth, yes, but pretty ineffective for holding onto things!

Then my body shut down entirely.  My joints packed it in - my knees hurt so much trying to do my weights class that I had to stop attending.  My few days a week of gymming came to a grinding halt.  I'd drag my sorry bum through my door of a night and be that fatigued, I'd fall asleep if I even dared put my head down - despite the fact I wasn't even training anymore!!   … and I'd just cry.  All the time.  Cry.

I thought I was losing it - again.  I've been here before - this isn't new to me.  In the past it's been MUCH more aggressive, and generally had little to no real 'for a reason' - but that still wasn't measure enough for why it was taking me down again.  I felt like a great big failure - and everything around me felt like pressure, to the point where my anxiety would flare up reading something online, or I'd think about trying to get control over my emotional binging, and the tight chest and brain-swirling would hit again.  EVERYTHING was too much - and nothing was working to dull it down.   Some people turn to alcohol or drugs (or any other 'addiction' style thing)… me, I turn to food - eating myself into food comas and it rarely hitting the sides.   I have an eating disorder - and when I'm not right in the head, I can't control it.  It consumes ME - and the pitfall is weight gain - and the hatred flares again when you hate what you see.  Round and round in circles… and further down I'd go.


When people talk about depression, I think there's still a huge misconception that you've already hit "rock bottom" when its the most obvious.  I can't speak for all those who suffer - I won't pretend to know it all - so I'll talk only about how it feels for ME.  I have "undiagnosed depression" - I've never intentionally sought help with it - I've mulled through my down-days and sadness - and for the most part, have managed to overcome it and push through.

When mine flares back up - as it's done so nastily lately - there's only so much patience you can have when it's the same-old routine you've seen so many times before.  It's gradual - it builds on itself.  You think you're doing ok one day, but then the next you lose your footing and BAM, another cry-day.    … but when I started resurrecting old haunts about believing I'm worth more 6-feet under, THAT is when I started to panic.  THAT was the moment I got the shits with myself - my perpetual negative brain - and got scared. 

Now, before anyone rings the emergency help line when I talk (so candidly) about suicide - take a breath and let me explain first.  NO, I'm not about to top myself. Far from it actually. It's actually got little to do with "being dead" at all.  To try and verbalise how it feels - when my headspace says "I want out" - if you can imagine someone taking a big eraser, and just quietly rubbing me away - slowly and very undramatically - no pain and no ridiculous TV-inspired over-dramatic traumatic bullshit…    When I say "I just want to go away" - I mean just that.  I just feel like sometimes I want to disappear. 

… but that sucks.   It's shit.  NO I don't want to be dead.  YES I want to be here and part of the world, and live long and prosper!   .. but I'm exhausted.  And fighting that sometimes takes a backseat to letting the feeling of 'nothing' take over, where you think you already are / destined to be.

I had a very blunt conversation with a friend recently - talking very openly about this very topic.  The conclusion of our talk came to something like this…  It's not that I wished to be dead - it was that killing myself wasn't feasible. I couldn't do that to my family, friends or myself.  It's the fear of hurting someone else that stops me in my tracks.   … but in doing that, in "staying" - you suffer, alone, in silence. 

…. but this is where I'm wrong.  I'm not always alone.


Despite my crazy anxiety attacks - the decline in my headspace and spiral back into depression - the fleeting thoughts of believing I'm worth nothing again (that got scrubbed very quickly - I find this a HUGE level of progress)…  and my intermission with being a total recluse and loner again…  there were a few key people who wouldn't let me stay down where I'd put myself.   I wasn't alone.

The few key people who have been whispering their thoughts and genuine concerns in my ear lately have been my little rising bubbles, helping me to come up faster than ever before.  I might have been on my way to hitting the bottom again - but I already know I'm on the way back up.


Except this time I'm taking a different approach.  No point banging on about how great things are when these cycles keep on happening - there's a reason why I keep coming unstuck…   Keep smacking my head against issues that I haven't been brave enough to deal with before - or too immersed in the wrong things to see what's really hurting me.  

I let my surgery dictate a 'happiness outcome' that never happened - it let me down like nothing else.  I let the weightloss rule my world and thought it'd make everything "bunnies and rainbows" afterwards, but it didn't.  I tried to make new friends and find love - but I seemed to be drawn to the wrong people and miss the ones who stood behind me, holding me up instead. 

If I'm really honest - and I am - this year has been one hell of a messed up wakeup call.    … and I'm very glad it's happened.

I hit my rock bottom (though nothing as fierce as the ones I've hit in the past) - my health is in jeopardy (I'm waiting on test results to find out what damage the surgery has done / if any / or to give me SOME idea WTF is actually going on?!) - my weight has piled back on (hello 15kgs gain) - my body is fatigued and severely fucked up from toxic yo-yo weightloss, binging, restriction and over-eating - and I'm so confused about who I am, where I want to go, what i truly want to do.  Some days I'm just plain exhausted by what's happened in the past six years of transition…  I never "lived" so much emotion as I have since I opted to change my life "for the better"… !!!    (there's extreme irony in that).

… but I'm grateful it's happened.  It forces me to question myself and look at ways of working smarter - to be brutally honest with myself and question what's truly important - and makes me stronger.  It builds my worth.



Last week I sought answers and help.  I'm not the same girl I was a decade ago (the one who hid away in shame, believing I wasn't worth fixing).   Nope - I need things to change, and I need help in doing that.   I know myself - now - well enough to know there's a time and place for everything.  And last week I marched myself into the Dr's surgery for answers.  Bloods were taken and a counselling session was initiated.

This is a huge step in my self-development - I sat down with a total stranger to help me deal with "my life".  I've never been one for counselling - it's been suggested time and time again, but I was never really interested. I seemed to push through enough on my own (or with my friends - before they'd tire of trying to deal with my headspace) - but I can't deal with EVERYTHING that's happened now.  I'm exhausted.  Literally.


This year has taught me a HUGE lesson.  I put my surgery up on this hideous pedestal. I believed it would be the ultimate thing for me - to help me like who I am, love my body, and (again, with the over-sharing honesty) - help me find someone who'd like the package so I wouldn't have to be the single 34 year old that I am.  I wanted a LIFE and I wanted love.   … and I went to hellish measures, cutting myself to pieces just to do that.

If I had a dollar for every time someone says to me "but you have to love YOURSELF before someone else can love you" - then I could go buy myself a freaking boyfriend…  !!!   So let's not go there.    Let's just say that I acknowledge that this is a very large aspect of self-worth - and when you're lacking that in the tormenting field of weight-issues - there's just a monotony in believing that you're somehow destined to be alone forever because you can't figure out if you're worth loving, therefore can't love yourself first.  It's cyclical, and it's screwed!

… but I didn't factor in the self-hatred coming back into play - particularly when the surgery was less than successful and my health took a nose-dive in the process - and when my mental space has the capacity to decline so rapidly.

Knowing I was perpetuating the cycle - and even cutting myself to bits didn't solve the issue… it just all became too much.  Knowing I've messed up my superior health - the guilt trips came in thick and fast.  Having uncontrollable anxiety and depression symptoms ravaging me the rest of the time…  just too much.  Fucking too much.

I broke.   I sought help.

My first counselling session mid-last week scared the pants off me.  I DID NOT want to open a can of worms delving into what's already happened in the "long ago past".   I had little to no tolerance at all to break the seals on things I can't shoulder right now.  Everything that's weighing me down has everything to do with my surgery, the body hatred and my solitude.  Going in there to face up to my reality as it is right now - with a total stranger - was one of the scariest things I've had to do.   I can talk - I do that really well these days - and my honesty was right there on the table when she'd prompt…   No, I think my fear was more in actually overcoming issues and having to walk a new path - one that doesn't revolve around negatives. 

… what do I do if and when I actually get happy?  

I thought I had a glimpse of it when the weightloss came through - when the publicity boosted my ego - when people noticed I existed.   … then I fell back down, because I had nothing inside that believed any of that.  I couldn't see my worth - my value - my strength.  I knew I'd done myself a favour changing my world via my weight - but it wasn't enough - I was still alone, still mentally distorted, still 'ugly' in a mangled body.  Still as empty as ever - and even more acutely aware of all the beautiful things I was watching so enviously in everyone else.    Was easier to run away and hide - turn my back on them so I couldn't hurt so much.   … because I WANT that happiness - and I can't fucking find it.

So I walked into a Counsellor's office to get perspective.  I put my pride back in its box - knowing damn well I simply won't get any further ahead if I don't - won't ever get to have those things that make me ache inside - and end up living a messed up, solitary life full of self-hatred and cyclical negativity if I don't do something different.

… and she was lovely.  Post-briefing about my life, all the changes, all the tears and tantrums this year… she said "god, no wonder you're exhausted!!" - and that was enough for me.   No dogmatic preaching that I'm too highly strung or emotional - and she even questioned if some of my decisions (albeit my choice) have been pushed/swayed from outside influences - giving me permission to stop unceremoniously slamming myself with guilt and continuing the hatred for "what I've done to myself".   And I can already see she has the capacity to make me crazy uncomfortable when it's time to really challenge me...  It's about to get messy - and I'm ok with that.

I have homework - I'm working on a list of all the things I love/do in my life - things that make me AMY.  She asked for a list of just ten things - so far I'm up to three full pages.  I can't stop writing them - three days later and I keep thinking of new ones.  They're even coming up in my dreams!    … and what makes my heart sing, is that so far not one thing on my list is about what I weigh, or why I have to fight so freaking hard to try and impress 'whoever'.  They're just all ME - all my crazy, funny, silly, quirky Amy things - and I love it!  I'm re-connecting again.

I was very lost.    

… but I'm still here. 

Hibernation time is nearly over…

 

PS:  Yes, I'm ok! 

xxx

Life lessons learnt in parting

I'm filled with pure emotion at the moment, and know my 'process' is to write and let myself think and talk via my fingers…   but also well aware that right now, there's an issue that I need to address and talk about, because it's so closely aligned with my own experience and issues of the past, and hiding this particular topic does us no favours...


Today I found out that an online weightloss buddy of mine died…  I've known him since basically the start of my weightloss transition five years ago. He was part of the online Club, and someone I used to chat to in the forums. He proved quite successful in his own weightloss transformation despite his arthritis and time constraints - but his cheeky humour was what caught and held my attention over the years. It wasn't unlike my own, and we bonded over kilos and bad humour!

Today I found out that he died in November.  The last time we "spoke", he wasn't dealing with life very well. We had that bond aswell - something that we used to talk about via emails. He'd worked hard to turn his life around for both himself and his young son, and over the years had undertaken study to find a new career, and done so well that he was easily sought after he'd graduated for work. I'd even designed his Resume, and when he'd scored a great job at the end, I was so happy for him! Things were really starting to change…  Last year, he'd bought himself a new car, and he and his son were building their own home. Something he'd never dreamed he'd be able to do - but his new career afforded him the privilege.  He was well respected in his role, helping those in need and those in underprivileged circumstance, change their lives too….


I found out today that he died the day after we spoke last.  He was in a really bad way.  He was upset and on edge, had felt he'd destroyed a relationship that had meant so much to him, and reached out to me to ask me how I had managed to overcome my issues and dark days. There's a certain level of speculation I make here, because I only found out via a friend, and it was only from posts on his Facebook wall that gave us the news...  I speculate that the timing wasn't coincidental, and therefore my reason to bring up the topic of suicide at all.



I try really hard to be positive and optimistic, but I'm plagued with a history of depression, anxiety and suicidal yuckiness too.  He knew that…  Maybe that's why he reached out to me?  Because I understood… because I wouldn't judge.  I understand more than most would…

We talked via SMS, but I guess I didn't read between the lines very well.  He was broken, and I think he was saying goodbye.  Re-reading the old text messages on my phone when I found out today, I'm just heartbroken. He told me I'm a beautiful girl, inside and out, and he'd known that from the first time he saw my photo (even at my biggest!) on the forums and read my posts.  He thanked me for being "the best friend I've never met" over the last five years… 

I reminded him that things would get better - that he and his boy had so many positives to look forward to, and to look to those for both comfort and pushing through - that life just hurts and tests us sometimes… but it's a conversation we've had before, and I guess the impact was lost on him this time…   Though he even went so far as to say we should catch up next time I'm in Sydney, and that he'd "hold me to that drink!" when I was able to get there sometime this year.  It pains me to read that and realise that won't ever happen now...


Well I guess that's the pitfall of befriending people on the internet - and it's one of my fears.  When I've spent half my life being a social recluse, it was far easier for me to befriend and communicate with likeminded people through my fingers (no surprise there… !).   My online friends are all across the world (distance means little on the web) and our backgrounds and lives are often very different… but there's always a bond I have with them, and a sincerity that comes with that kind of friendship where the distance is quite meaningless, but you know people will come and go.  Many of them I'll never meet, and I've always had a fear in the pit of my tummy that something would happen to someone I care about, and I'd possibly never find out.  It bites when a fear turns into reality...  even more so when it's so close to issues of my own.


I don't quite know what's hurting more right now…  The fact that he didn't have the strength to fight.  Or that I missed my opportunity to meet a friend of mine who played a role in helping reshape MY life.   Or that whatever has happened with him, has really reinforced the damage that my old negative thinking could have potentially done to MY network and people I care about (which still surfaces on occasion, when the hideous negatives and doubt come out).

I don't often talk about my suicidal past - because I don't feel I'm that person anymore.  I lost a decade of my life in "blackness" thinking I was worth more in a casket, but the person I am today is too far removed from letting that win.  I simply don't have the right to judge someone who struggles with these issues - because those who don't suffer like this, just don't understand.  It's easy to assume it's "selfish" or cruel to those you leave behind - but there's an intolerable, horrible cruelty that rages in your own heart and head that sometimes wins over.  Some of us can fight back more than others, and I guess there's those that simply don't have the energy anymore.

My heart is breaking right now for a friend who ran out of courage and energy to fight, and I'm so sad that my parting words weren't enough to help bring him through to keep on trying.  He knew…   


I posted this on my Facebook wall - "RIP M. Always thought you were a bit of a clown but you made me laugh, and I certainly considered you a friend. I don't really understand what's happened or how, but that we 'spoke' just the day before has left me hurting. Reading through the last text messages, I'm just heartbroken. Maybe I could have done more.... maybe not, I just don't know. But grant you this, when I meet you again (whenever, wherever, however), I'll be kicking your arse, and you bloody know it. 36 isn't anywhere near old enough mister... "

Despite my tears and heartbreak right now, there's a certain level of relief I have on his behalf too.  I don't agree with his actions (clearly I fight on, and I wish he'd have been able to do the same)… and I hurt for his little boy who needed his dad... but I can't help but offer him the compassion, and afford him the flexibility to let him take his 'calm' now. 

My parting words in our last SMS conversation read "Just breathe…".   Wish he'd had the strength to do just that.


I'll still kick his arse one day though….  but his lesson hasn't been lost on me.  I now see the side of this that I've never truly wanted to see….  and it pains me for all its reality.  I don't ever want to do this to someone else.  Lesson heard, felt and learnt.   Thankyou M.   xx






** If you are suffering from depression, anxiety or suicidal tendencies, PLEASE seek help. There are avenues for counseling via your Doctor - and people who DO care.  I regret suffering for a decade in silence - the damage of which still interferes with me when I'm struggling today.  The actions you take DO impact those who love you.  You are NOT alone.


My apologies for anyone I've upset with this post.  But it is a topic that needs to be spoken about...