It's A Way Of Life.
This is all I have known. Having Major Depressive Disorder is how it has been. There's no option to stop, just to manage. Well some times I 'manage' better that the others. Sometimes I laugh so hard about how mental I am, that I ponder am I really afraid of HOW messed up I am? To answer that I wouldn't even need a moment to think, the answer is yes. I am afraid of reliving my experience. My life has been difficult and my memories are so painful, that i can't even speak the words to describe what has happened to me.
On the outside I am an energetic, passionate, funny person. Quick witted and always ready with a retort. I love to learn. I love to talk to experts because I love their passion for the topic. All experts, chefs, plumbers, kitchen staff, wonderful stories of passion. That gives me a buzz. On the outside I am strong, independent, loyal, intelligent woman, who wont take any sh*t from anyone.
On the inside I am on the verge of collapse. I am constantly controlling my behaviours, controlling the four million things that are going through my head. I am constantly fighting the urge to just give up, fall apart, and make the noise stop.
When the darkness comes, and it always does, I brace myself, I can feel it rolling in like a thunder storm, coming to rip me to shreds, to take me to the edge of my sanity and dare me not to jump into the abyss. I have just come off I pretty tough week emotionly.
I am back in active therapy, and finger and toes I can stick it out for the long term. I want to stop. Put all the painful memories back from whence they came, and fall back into the comfort of my distructive behaviours, my eating disorder and my OCD. I understand this world, I understand that when I perform my behaviours I can have just a few moment of peace. A few moments of feeling whole, till the self doubt come creeping back in. Did you check it? Did you eat it? Did you check it? What have you eaten? Have you had too much? Have you checked it again? Over and over and over until I scream out in frustration "JUST SHUT THE **** UP! Please" this is usually after 6 or 7 weeks. Which isn't bad really when you think that this is going on 24 hours a day. Day and night. No break.
I can't say I really blame myself for wanting to die. For me this is my life. Permantly. I will always have OCD, hopefully the ED will **** off, and as for the rest they too are a way of life.
Sometimes I get so depressed that I will never be cured that I just cry, and whinge about how "unfair" it all is, at least these days I have people I can turn to rather than bottling it up, at least these days I recognise that I do need to reach out. That it is okay to ask for help, even at the 11th hour. This is still very difficult for me to do, but I just keep having ago,
Thanks for reading,