Wednesday, 17 December 2014

Kay's Story

Throughout my life depression seemed to be all around me but it was never something we talked about. This was probably because at the time my Dad was diagnosed with depression I was far too young to understand exactly what it was. As time went by it became harder to avoid because two other family members have also suffered from it.
I had an idea what depression was but I had no idea what the extent of this horrible illness was until I found myself suffering from it.

When I think of depression I think of a fog. It’s like being trapped in one. No matter where you go and what you do you’re surrounded by this stupid fog and every time you think the air is clearing something comes along to make the air thicker and harder to move in.
I would be lying if I told you that I remembered the feeling of being in this fog because during this stage of my life I was no longer living, it was more like I was existing. This doesn’t mean that I didn’t have some great experiences and nights out during this time but part of my mind just didn’t work. On my worst days I was a zombie, I was there in body but not spirit. There was like a piece of jigsaw missing and I just couldn’t find that piece. I found myself extremely frustrated at myself that I was useless and couldn’t fix myself, every time I cried I just wanted to shake myself for being so stupid and weak.

This went on for quite some time and as time went on I was getting worse instead of better. It was then I decided I couldn’t continue on this way. The first step I made was to join a gym. Now joining a gym and going to a gym are completely different things and it took me a good month of having a gym membership before actually attending. When I did go I found myself faced with the horrible situation where I was the skinniest person in the gym. See when I’m down I actually cant eat, even if I wanted to my stomach just doesn’t allow me to and trying to force feed yourself is never a pleasant experience. Well anyway, back to the gym adventures, every time I stepped into that building I felt as though people were judging me, thinking I must be anorexic or something and trying to loose weight that I didn’t have to loose. This of course wasn’t the case but it doesn’t stop people from staring.
Overtime I thought fuck it, who cares what they think; I’m doing this for me, not them. The main reason I decided to got to the gym I should mention was so I could kick my metabolism into gear, also I couldn’t open a bottle of water so I thought I could probably gain a bit of muscle. After time this of course worked but it also gave me a space not to think. I was so focused on what I was doing I didn’t give much thought on how shit things were. Even now when I feel down the first thing I do either write to myself (a great way to sort your head out) or go to the gym.

The gym helped a lot of the physical side affects of my depression but I still had to find a way of sorting out the mental side affects. This was months after I was at my lowest and I think if I was offered the help I received that I was given at the start of my downward spiral I wouldn’t have engaged in it as much as I did when I decided to get help myself. Probably because I actually admitted to myself that there was something wrong and it needed help in order to help sort out my problems. Therapy was the best thing I ever decided to do. I remember the state I went in for my first session, my hair was a state and my clothes were dirty. I cried for 45 mins of the hour session. As time went by I just found myself changing. The change from the first to my last session was something else. I wasn’t in that fog anymore.

I decided to tell my story because I think it proves things do get better. If you turned to me when I was in that terrible fog that I had a future I wouldn’t have believed you. I had lost hope in myself and it took a lot of time to find it again.




If you have a story to share on the blog, e-mail us at depressivedetails@gmail.com
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