I was diagnosed with depression in 2001, the year I started university. I have always been 'sensitive' I suppose you could say (and was told by a teacher when I was being bullied at school) and it runs in my family so I suppose I was quite susceptible to it. After being bullied on many occasions throughout my school life and once more being submitted to it at university, I found it all too much. I stopped going out, yet I didn't want to be on my own, I cried all the time and I struggled to concentrate on anything for a period of time. I did stupid things such as running away from my friends in the middle of the night, locking myself in my room for hours and breaking down in a room full of people for no real reason. My friends at the time were great and were there for me as much as they could be. In the end I saw a doctor and asked for a referral to a psychiatrist to get some answers. This doctor told me he didn't believe I was depressed but referred me at my insistence. My mum came to the psychiatrist appointment with me and I remember sitting in the chair, my legs scrunched up under and my head hung low. The relief when he told me there was something wrong and I wasn't just being over-sensitive or imagining it all was more than I can tell you. He prescribed antidepressants and I was advised to speak to a counsellor.
At my lowest at university, although you wouldn't know it |
After going through such a hard time I thought it was all behind me. I met my husband, graduated from university, bought a house and got married. However when yet again I came across a bully, this time in the form of my employer, I once again fell back into my old ways. This time I wasn't ill as long but my emotions were a lot more extreme and I know my husband struggled to deal with them. I could be on top of the world one minute, then screaming hysterically the next. I remember, not understanding how to deal with things, he would treat me as you would a paddying child and ignore me so as not to 'encourage' my bad behaviour. This only served to make things worse and I did stupid things like jumping out of a moving car (fortunately I did not injur myself or anyone else), banging my head against a wall or threatening to throw myself down the stairs. These are things I'm quite ashamed to admit, but they were all cries for attention when I felt my husband had turned his back on me. Of course I in no way blame my husband, and he was a great support for me when I had few other people to rely on. Who knows how he did it.
My ever-supportive husband |
My little family today |
If you think you or your loved one is suffering, there are several places you can go to for help and advice. The greatest advice I can give to anyone is don't suffer alone. Depression is not something to be ashamed of or something that you should just 'get over'. Reach out and get some support, you aren't alone.
There are many organisations out there who can help you, here are just a few:
The Depression Alliance
The Black Dog Tribe
Rethink
Time To Change
Sane
The Mental Health Foundation
Please support Depression Awareness Week by donating or sharing your own story at the Depression Alliance website.