Good days and bad days

One of the worst things about being depressed is that you don’t know how you’ll feel when you wake up each morning, whether it will be a ‘good day’ or a ‘bad day’. Yesterday I had a really good day. I had a productive day at work and then an evening out seeing a musical and meeting some great people I’d only previously met on Twitter. I came home, had a few brief, funny Twitter exchanges and went to bed. I found it easier to get to sleep than I had in months and I didn’t wake up during the night which I often do... However when I woke up I felt an immense bleakness and emptiness, as if my insides had just been ripped out. It hurt physically and emotionally. I lay curled up in bed, tears rolling down my face.

Everybody has days when they don’t want to go to work or school or to have to do whatever they have to do. I’ve had them in the past, but I’ve never felt like I did today. I’ve always been able to get up, make the first cup of tea of the day and take it from there.  Today I just didn’t want to face the world and felt like I couldn’t. I felt as if I’d tried to go to work I wouldn’t have been able to cope and would have fallen apart publically. So I didn’t go. It was the first day I have had off sick since I was diagnosed with depression. It felt horrible. I feel hopeless, not least because I know there are people in worse situations than me, I feel like a failure – as though by not coping I’ve let myself and others down. I feel as if my insides are alternately churning and empty. I spend lots of time thinking about why I feel the way I do, what is at the root of the inescapable fact that I feel shit most of the time.

I mentioned on Twitter how I was feeling and received lots of supportive messages – for which I am immensely grateful. Since I wrote my first blog I have received support  both from friends and people I only know via Twitter. I’ve also had some excellent advice and touching stories from people who have been through depression and come out the other side. I’m immensely grateful to have been reminded that I’m not alone and that I have people who care about me enough to remind me that they think I’m smart and funny and kind and worthwhile, even if I don’t necessarily agree with them at the moment. There are times when I  know deep down that I have got things going for me it is just that at the moment I can’t see them, and I need to get back to a place where I can.

The Paul Simon song ‘Slip Slidin’ Away’ has part of a verse that goes : “She said a good day ain't got no rain; She said a bad day's when I lie in bed And think of things that might have been” Much as I wanted to, I decided, eventually that laying in bed all day wouldn’t be the best idea. Instead I decided to follow the advice I’d been passed by Damian who had read my first blog  “you haven't got a physical sickness so don't feel you have to stay at home all the time. You should spend your time doing the things that you enjoy as that will be the key to recovery".

So today, although I didn’t make it to work I have been for a walk, had my hair cut, been for coffee in a café, cooked some nice home-made food, listened to some cheerful music (show tunes), spoken to an old friend on the phone, watched TV and written this blog. It’s nothing major but I’m trying to follow the advice of another friend, Nick who tweeted me and said he’d got out of his depression by working up from his lowest point by trying to do positive things and plotting each one on a graph that slowly curved upward. So having started as a black day, and feeling worse than I have since my breakdown it’s has had its positive moments. I just don’t know how I will feel tomorrow morning.....

“I’m fine, thanks”

Being English and quite reserved  this is generally the answer that I give when people ask me how I am. I’m sure it’s the same for a lot of people. People ask out of politeness, it’s almost a social requirement and “I’m fine” is the expected response.

Often this is ok, it’s not fair to expect them to deal with difficult information or respond to being told that you’ve just finished a relationship or are stressed at work, or struggling financially or are just having a bad day. However when you always give that answer, whoever asks and however you’re feeling,  it is perhaps not so healthy.

When I was young I was in and out of hospital a lot. I had two major operations before I was five (without one of which I wouldn’t have lived). I had lots of hospital appointments up until I was a teenager. I recognised that this  took a lot of my parents time and attention, and thought this was unfair on my older brother and sister. So with a weird distorted logic I stopped talking about things that were worrying me. I learnt to cope with stuff, to deal with difficulties, big and small – either by bottling them up or by tackling them by myself (however inadequately).

I tried to cope on my own. I did pretty well for quite a few years. Sure there were bits of my life where I was less successful than others but I was quietly confident of my abilities, and generally happy. A few weeks ago I stopped feeling like I could cope.

Ironically I’d had a good day. I’d been at been at work, and been productive, I’d had a nice text message from an old friend (something small but still nice) I’d spent the evening with friends. Then I came home, made a cup of tea .I suddenly felt totally overwhelmed. I felt like I was falling apart. I sat on the floor and cried. It was the first time I’d cried properly for years.

I realised I needed help. I went to my doctor. I walked into the surgery and he gave me a cheery “now, what can I do for you?” and it all came flooding out... he soon didn’t sound so cheery. He asked me some questions and got me to fill in a questionnaire. He  diagnosed me with depression.  I’ve been on anti-depressants for six weeks. I don’t like it, medicating myself to be able to cope with life but I was desperate.

I’m still hesitant about admitting this because I feel there’s a social stigma around mental illness.

Perhaps this stigma comes because  it is something that can’t be fixed by antibiotics or a few days in bed or an operation. Being depressed affects all aspects of my life. I have found myself questioning my ability to do my job, wondering if people like me or if they’re just being polite, feeling pathetic. I’ve had trouble sleeping and lost my appetite. I’ve got angry and wanted to break stuff. I’ve had panic attacks. I’ve cried more in that six weeks than I probably have in the last six years.

The worst part is not being sure what’s wrong. I still don’t know. I’m lucky that I am not as depressed as some people. I have days when I feel like I’m falling apart I have days when  able to function ok.

 Why am I depressed? I don’t know. Logically I shouldn’t be. I have a job I love (ok it’s demanding but still), good friends, I’m financially ok. But logic doesn’t come into it.

Why is it happening now? I don’t know. I’ve not had any major changes in my life in the last couple of months.

When will I be better? Again I don’t know. That’s the scariest part of it.

But I’m determined that I will be. The pills are helping a bit, exercise is helping a bit, having people being nice to me is helping a lot, talking to people is helping. Telling people that, actually, I’m not fine is helping.

Today I had to fill in a health questionnaire and I was confronted with a tick box that said “do you have any mental health conditions”. I ticked it. It was ticking that box that caused me to write this. I hadn’t intended my first proper blog to be about me, or to be so self-indulgent so I’ll add something about other people. If you’re not fine, tell someone. Be honest. You don’t need to go and cry on the shoulder of the woman in the post office who asks you if you’ve had a good day when actually it’s been shit. Find someone you trust and tell them. It may very well help. If you feel you can’t cope, talk to someone, realise that w e aren’t able to cope with life entirely by ourselves. Do it now rather than leaving to a point where you find yourself sat on the floor crying and not knowing why. 

A blog

I have thought about starting a blog for a while. Partly because I know lots of other people who blog and enjoy it, partly because I enjoy writing.

I've also started a blog because I tweet a lot, some of it random stuff, some of it about stuff that I'm interested in and passionate about, some of it about my life and. I intend this blog to be an extension of that without the 140 character limit. I love the limit but sometimes things are more nuanced than you can cover in such a short space.
I'm not going to blog for the sake of it but will if I have something to say or write about. I am going to try and blog regularly.

If you follow me on twitter and are interested enough to come here then thanks, if you've come here and don't follow me on twitter then you can by clicking on the link on the right hand side.