Paranoia Will Be The Death Of MeI am 26 years old, yet I feel I have regressed back to my 17 year old self, and I hate myself for it.
I battled depression for a couple of years in my teens and came out of it at the age of 18 when I moved to university and had the support of a loving boyfriend to see me through. Now aged 26, after working for 5 years and being single for 3 of those, I am now 4 months through a Masters and depression has finally caught up with me again. But what on earth do I have to be depressed about? And this is why I know it is an illness- depression, and not just an episode of feeling 'blue'.
The world is my absolute oyster- I'm at a great uni on a great course with great people. The best people. But I'm struggling to deal with that fact that in 6 months time we will all have gone our different ways. Even though we have SO MUCH in common (and with one person in particular) but we all have our lives to begin once we graduate. Sure there's Facebook and email etc, but the people I'm enjoying spending so much time around at the moment will soon have left my life as quickly as they entered it, and it breaks my heart. Particular when there's one who I care so much about.
So there's that, and then there's the sense of loss I feel about a break-up. Having been my ex for about a year, we met over Xmas, when I came to the realisation that we could no longer be friends. He has moved on and it's finally time for me to do the same. Having been in my life for almost 9 years, it feels like I'm mourning the death of a loved one. He's gone forever- the person I used to enjoy the company of so much is no longer there for me. I can't reminisce with him any more. It hurts, it really hurts.
Finally, my performance in the sport I love so much is being greatly affected, and this is what hurts me most of all. I have invested 3 years of my life into training as much and as hard as I can, in order to be the best I can be. But my performance has declined. People who I should be beating are beating me. And so I beat myself up. Physically. I cut my wrists- not with the intent of suicide, but scratching enough to leave a mark that will remind me of my failings and my need to up my game. Add to this my paranoia, that the people I train with are all talking about me, about how bad my performances have become. About how weird I am, or how I don't socialise as well. In my head I am sure they don't like me very much. In reality, I have no idea if they even care. If you're still reading this then thanks- bit of a long story there x