Black Treacle.

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Over the years I have had periods of feeling low it was possibly even some form of depression, but I always managed to work my way through it. But approximately 18 months ago I felt like I was constantly living with a thick black fog swirling around my head. In fact it wasn’t even a fog, it was more like black treacle. A thick, dark goo that slowed me down, pulled me to the ground encasing my mind and suffocating me. This was something I had not experienced before, something I could not shake and this thing was literally squeezing the life out of me! Once in its grip I just wanted to disappear in to the darkness, I guess, even though I don’t like to admit it I was suicidal.

When I used to think of someone having suicidal thoughts, I had always thought that it was just a case of wanting to die, to end your life. But, (I am not saying this is the same for everyone) I think it’s just more that you want peace and quiet, to silence the noise in your head. To put a stop to the darkness that consumes your mind from the moment you wake until the moment you sleep, that’s if you can sleep. It’s not that you want to end your life, you just want peace. I didn’t sit there thinking I am going to kill myself because this life is shit & I want to die. I just wanted peace, to be rid of the constant whirl going round my head, I just wanted this torment to be over.

I stopped doing the things I enjoyed, I began to withdraw in to myself. I hated myself, the way I looked, my (in my mind) lack of achievement in life, my (yet again in my mind) shortcomings as a mother, the list was endless! I didn’t want to talk to people, in part because it felt like it was too much effort, but also because talking just added more to the whirling going on in my head that I can only liken to being on a constant merry-go-round. I even stopped leaving the house, I remember having to take my husband to go and collect his car one morning. When he had gone and I had to drive back on my own,  gripped by fear. My legs shook and tears streamed down my face, I was petrified!! But why, this wasn’t me?!! What was wrong with me?!! I sat there thinking I can’t do this, I don’t want to do this, I am scared of doing this. But I knew I had to, I couldn’t sit in the car for the rest of my life!! So I drove home crying, tears streaming down my face, my hands shaking on the steering wheel, feeling sick, but all the while thinking just get home, just get home! Back to the house back to my safe haven, back to what had become my comfort blanket.

As I let the darkness consume me my days consisted of lying in bed either sleeping, or binge watching TV programmes anything to try to numb the negativity in my head. I didn’t wash or dress for days; I filled my face with unhealthy food, which in some way I saw as a form of punishment. I recall one morning just sat there unwashed, in my dressing gown stuffing myself with chocolates one after the other, hating myself. Filling my body with crap was my way of punishing myself for my weakness, for letting all this negativity take such a hold of me. My days were filled with a constant feeling of self loathing, I wanted to crawl out of my skin, I had this continued need to scratch at my skin, to claw it away, to claw myself away and my feelings of self-hate.

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I found my thoughts and feelings also hard to explain, I couldn’t understand them myself so trying to explain them to other people was (and still sometimes is) really difficult.  I feel embarrassed when I say I had/I have depression, but I am slowly learning to accept that it is nothing to be ashamed of. Sometimes I think I’m cured (whatever cured is) other days I just want to be left alone to stay at home in my own little world. I think it may have always been here lurking round the corner. Depression isn’t just a case of being a bit fed up. Is it an SOS to the mind and body?! Time to slow down, take a step back, for me I think may be it was. I think depression isn’t one size fits all, I think we can have similarities with our situations, but I think everyone’s depression is personal to them it has its own uniqueness tailored made for that specific individual. Maybe that’s why it so hard to express what it is, how it makes you feel or maybe that’s just my take on it.

Surprisingly there have been some positives from all of this I have met other people who have their own demons and through sharing our experiences I have been introduced to new thoughts and ideas. Social media has been a big positive for me, especially Instagram and Pinterest both helped me to find quotes and ideas that helped me to accept that I wasn’t going mad. Scrolling through Pinterest finding quotes about how this illness made others feel and recognising that they also felt like I did played a huge role in helping me to make sense of what was going on in my head. Instagram and Pinterest also helped me to become more aware of positive thinking and putting a different perspective on my thoughts or situation. Journaling is also another method of self-help that I discovered via these social media sources.

 

A big plus for me is that I have realised that I want to try to help other people, especially women, through positive thinking and self encouragement. I think we live in a society that likes to pull people down, instead of trying to build each other up. I think we also find it difficult to big ourselves up too, especially in the UK. To think “yes, I did good” is viewed as (we believe) a sign of arrogance. Well I want to try and change that, I want to help all you fantastic females to believe in yourselves and achieve your goals, no matter how big or small they maybe.

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Thanks Em. x