So, having told my story in brief in another post, I thought I would spend some time reflecting upon what it actually feels like to be mental. I don't mean for that to sound flippant - it's simply my way of dealing with it.
And because I imagine this is going to be somewhat cathartic, I'm going to take my time and break it down into individual posts, each tackling a different aspect of my MH.
Let's start with the primary diagnosis: depression.
I've always put the most ludicrous pressure and expectation upon myself to perform, deliver and achieve in every aspect of life. Setting standards so high means you're pretty much setting yourself up to fail because when you achieve them, you move the goalposts. And when you don't, it's just another reason to hate yourself and beat yourself up.
That kind of mentality has been present for as long as I can remember and I have carried my concerns and regrets around like a camel, with my "hump" weighing me down more and more as the years go by and the failures mount. I still beat myself up for the day my first tooth fell out and I ran around the school playground telling everyone that would listen, then told my teacher, who laughed gently and said, "I know, you already told me!"
Nothing wrong with that at all. It's almost sweet. But me? I felt awful - stupid, foolish, embarrassed, ashamed. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. Rational logic tells me how nonsensical this is, but I can't help who I am. So imagine letting those examples build up over a further thirty years. Plus some of the bigger, more legitimate life mistakes. It's profoundly debilitating to say the least. It's like a cancerous growth that just gets bigger with time.
Everything you do and say; everything you are and will ever be... Is shit. And no amount of being told otherwise - by yourself or any other - will change that core belief.
Objectively, I know I'm a reasonably good, kind person. I'm polite, friendly and at least outwardly, appear very normal indeed. A typical "average Joe". I've lots to be proud of and grateful for in my life. But that is all completely overshadowed by depression. Depression makes it virtually impossible to give myself credit for anything. It's the most evil, pervasive, consuming ailment I can imagine. There have been people in my life that have done me such wrong, I could wish them dead. If we're honest with ourselves, I think we've all felt like that once or twice. But never have I hated anyone so much that I would wish depression upon them. No-one deserves that. Ever.
It's bad enough that I judge myself so harshly, so I certainly don't need others to add to that (and even if they don't, my paranoia imagines what they're thinking), so I tend to isolate myself. Alot. Yes, I'm married, I hold down a job, I have a reasonably active social life. But I am not and do not allow myself to get close to people. I am neither confident nor competent at forming friendships and relationships. Ever. I seldom let my guard down. I never completely relax around people. I don't do affection. I don't do social media (although maybe this forum is a first). In short, I don't do people. These days, I don't think I could even if I wanted to. Even if I got better.
And while I sometimes feel very lonely, I also feel safer. You can't get hurt if you don't have people in your life. So keep yourself to yourself. Which makes me sound like I've been abused or something. A form of emotional abuse as I grew up perhaps (unrelenting criticism and no affection from parents) but I can't exactly constitute myself as a victim of abuse in the true sense of the word. I'm just damaged goods.
The depression has triggers. Usually stress. And (unlikely in this forum) if you don't know what it feels like, it's hard to describe. Feeling "sad" is such a pathetic way to articulate the sensation. It's not just emotional or psychological, it's physical as well. It feels like someone is sat on your chest and you can't focus because of the most overwhelming sense of misery you can imagine. As a teenager, I remember that I would sleep for up to 18 hours a day simply because being unconscious was preferable to being awake. Birdsong and sunlight in the morning was the most despairing prospect because it represented the start of yet another day. These days, I generally keep it together and continue to function. But internally, I fluctuate from being completely numb and feeling little (and certainly no interest or enjoyment in anything) to being on the verge of tears and desperate to end it all. Not that anyone would realise.
As for feeling suicidal. Not a day goes by when I don't think about taking my life. I wish for it all the time - for some random act of fate to take me out of the equation and save me a job. I envy those that have died, by whatever means. Sick I know. But that's what depression does to you. When at it's worst, it's an inherently selfish illness. There are times when I go into what I call "survival mode" because every day is struggle and you simply can't contend with other people's problems or even take an interest in their world. It's hard enough staying alive. Thinking of other is not an option. And as for suicide , nothing irritates me more than ignorant people suggesting it's a form of cowardice. Have they any idea how much courage it takes to take your own life???!
I don't know whether it's now the depression or simply force of habit but for those thoughts to go through your mind every single day, for near on twenty years. That's tough. Believe me. <mod edit- methods>
Experience has taught me that my depression goes in 2-3 year cycles. The bad patches can last from a couple of months to the best part of a year. But remember that when I'm what I would regard as "well", I still want to end my life. So, that's kinda life with depression, as best I can describe it from my own experience. For the sake of not writing a book for every post, I'll leave it there. But I need to cover bi-polar, body dismorphia and anxiety to really give a comprehensive picture. Then, I guess I'll reflect upon what I've done to date to try and manage my MH. And next steps (although right now they're looking pretty fucking bleak if I'm honest).
And because I imagine this is going to be somewhat cathartic, I'm going to take my time and break it down into individual posts, each tackling a different aspect of my MH.
Let's start with the primary diagnosis: depression.
I've always put the most ludicrous pressure and expectation upon myself to perform, deliver and achieve in every aspect of life. Setting standards so high means you're pretty much setting yourself up to fail because when you achieve them, you move the goalposts. And when you don't, it's just another reason to hate yourself and beat yourself up.
That kind of mentality has been present for as long as I can remember and I have carried my concerns and regrets around like a camel, with my "hump" weighing me down more and more as the years go by and the failures mount. I still beat myself up for the day my first tooth fell out and I ran around the school playground telling everyone that would listen, then told my teacher, who laughed gently and said, "I know, you already told me!"
Nothing wrong with that at all. It's almost sweet. But me? I felt awful - stupid, foolish, embarrassed, ashamed. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. Rational logic tells me how nonsensical this is, but I can't help who I am. So imagine letting those examples build up over a further thirty years. Plus some of the bigger, more legitimate life mistakes. It's profoundly debilitating to say the least. It's like a cancerous growth that just gets bigger with time.
Everything you do and say; everything you are and will ever be... Is shit. And no amount of being told otherwise - by yourself or any other - will change that core belief.
Objectively, I know I'm a reasonably good, kind person. I'm polite, friendly and at least outwardly, appear very normal indeed. A typical "average Joe". I've lots to be proud of and grateful for in my life. But that is all completely overshadowed by depression. Depression makes it virtually impossible to give myself credit for anything. It's the most evil, pervasive, consuming ailment I can imagine. There have been people in my life that have done me such wrong, I could wish them dead. If we're honest with ourselves, I think we've all felt like that once or twice. But never have I hated anyone so much that I would wish depression upon them. No-one deserves that. Ever.
It's bad enough that I judge myself so harshly, so I certainly don't need others to add to that (and even if they don't, my paranoia imagines what they're thinking), so I tend to isolate myself. Alot. Yes, I'm married, I hold down a job, I have a reasonably active social life. But I am not and do not allow myself to get close to people. I am neither confident nor competent at forming friendships and relationships. Ever. I seldom let my guard down. I never completely relax around people. I don't do affection. I don't do social media (although maybe this forum is a first). In short, I don't do people. These days, I don't think I could even if I wanted to. Even if I got better.
And while I sometimes feel very lonely, I also feel safer. You can't get hurt if you don't have people in your life. So keep yourself to yourself. Which makes me sound like I've been abused or something. A form of emotional abuse as I grew up perhaps (unrelenting criticism and no affection from parents) but I can't exactly constitute myself as a victim of abuse in the true sense of the word. I'm just damaged goods.
The depression has triggers. Usually stress. And (unlikely in this forum) if you don't know what it feels like, it's hard to describe. Feeling "sad" is such a pathetic way to articulate the sensation. It's not just emotional or psychological, it's physical as well. It feels like someone is sat on your chest and you can't focus because of the most overwhelming sense of misery you can imagine. As a teenager, I remember that I would sleep for up to 18 hours a day simply because being unconscious was preferable to being awake. Birdsong and sunlight in the morning was the most despairing prospect because it represented the start of yet another day. These days, I generally keep it together and continue to function. But internally, I fluctuate from being completely numb and feeling little (and certainly no interest or enjoyment in anything) to being on the verge of tears and desperate to end it all. Not that anyone would realise.
As for feeling suicidal. Not a day goes by when I don't think about taking my life. I wish for it all the time - for some random act of fate to take me out of the equation and save me a job. I envy those that have died, by whatever means. Sick I know. But that's what depression does to you. When at it's worst, it's an inherently selfish illness. There are times when I go into what I call "survival mode" because every day is struggle and you simply can't contend with other people's problems or even take an interest in their world. It's hard enough staying alive. Thinking of other is not an option. And as for suicide , nothing irritates me more than ignorant people suggesting it's a form of cowardice. Have they any idea how much courage it takes to take your own life???!
I don't know whether it's now the depression or simply force of habit but for those thoughts to go through your mind every single day, for near on twenty years. That's tough. Believe me. <mod edit- methods>
Experience has taught me that my depression goes in 2-3 year cycles. The bad patches can last from a couple of months to the best part of a year. But remember that when I'm what I would regard as "well", I still want to end my life. So, that's kinda life with depression, as best I can describe it from my own experience. For the sake of not writing a book for every post, I'll leave it there. But I need to cover bi-polar, body dismorphia and anxiety to really give a comprehensive picture. Then, I guess I'll reflect upon what I've done to date to try and manage my MH. And next steps (although right now they're looking pretty fucking bleak if I'm honest).
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