It is not alright

What is the meaning of life? My thoughts infect my mind,  Like a plague, eating away at my mind.  I sabotage myself, a prisoner in my soul  My heart burns, longs to be free.  Why do I fall?  Why does it hurt?  This I do not know.  So many questions I will never understand.  But how do I move on?  How do I wade through the debre?  Every step I take, I falter  Question my own self  My heart aches, yearns to be heard.  I am swallowed up by my own thoughts.  I was thinking tonight, about a lot of things. I usually do. It’s almost impossible to get my head to shut up. I was trying to figure out why? Why am I in this mess. Why did this happen to me?  Why can’t I ‘snap out of it’? Why does it feel like no one understands? Why do I get hurt?  As if this wasn’t mentally draining enough, I was also trying to figure out who? what? how? etc.  So many muddles thoughts, and to be honest, I don’t think any of my questions were answered or explained,

After my last blog, I was quite surprised by how many people commented and responded. I was not the only one dealing with that problem. I realised that most people in some way dealt with the same thing. I knew I was not alone, and even though I know its a widespread problem, I was reminded that a lot of our problems are not exclusive to us. Yes, we are all unique, we all have our own journeys, our own experiences. BUT........ In some ways, essentially, we are all the same. I could go into the scientific and psychological evidence that covers this topic, but to be honest, it can get pretty confusing reading all that stuff. I know when I have been in hospital, and have been well enough to attend the group sessions, it always surprised people when the words 'me too' were mentioned. Somehow knowing somebody else had the same thought, or struggle with the same issue, helped us work through them. It showed us we really are not alone, and we are not 'the odd one out

I need to stop comparing. Some people spend most of their life judging others, some people spend most of their life judging themselves. I wonder if you can tell with one is me...? I judge myself. Constantly.   It can be debilitating.  I don't just judge myself when I do something wrong, or make a mistake.  I judge myself about everything .  My mental illness has caused me to be own worst enemy. If I make a mistake, even something simple, like burn the dinner, I criticise myself. Not just because I failed, but because so many other people succeeded. I am always comparing myself to others. Some comparisons are obviously unrealistic. If I compare my cooking ability to a master chef, of course I am going to come out last.  But my problem, is comparing myself to people in a similar situation. A friend struggling with depression, or a single mum of three kids.  My mind has a few favourite toxic phrases, one of which is: 'If they can do it, w

Who am I? Who am I? To be honest, I’m still trying to figure that one out.  But, I can tell you who I’m not. I’m not the depressed woman you hesitate to talk to, I’m not that person putting my family through hell, I am not the miserable pathetic one who can’t get her act together. The illness I suffer from causes these issues, I admit that. But that’s not who I am. I will always remember a beautiful woman I met in one of the hospitals I was in. It was a public hospital, set aside for the severely ill, to the point of being unsafe. People with full on schizophrenia, suicide attempts, aggressive drug addictions.  My nurse had convinced me to take my lunch to the dining area to eat. I was scared, anxious, depressed, alone. I felt worthless and hated myself so much.  This woman,  I will call her Beth, came over to me and said hello. I could tell she was on edge, but she gave me a smile and showed me the ‘best seat’ in the room.  She told me my shirt was pretty.

Whose fault is it??  Am I guilty? Depression does something to those who suffer from it. Depression takes away a persons self confidence, their dignity. Things that most people don’t even think about, plague the minds of those whose thoughts are their own worsts enemy. One of the hardest things, is guilt.  I know I’m ‘guilty’ of this thought pattern. To give you an example, I had an appointment with a psychologist while I was in hospital.  It was so good to be able to talk to someone, outside of my family, about the horrible things I tell myself. I was able to admit to her just how much it hurts to see the pain I have caused my family.  The guilt of knowing how much I have lost, and how much my family have lost, because of me .   Being in hospital for 6 weeks has been draining for everyone involved.  I could rattle off many more reasons I am ashamed of myself, but it would take a very long time!  My psychologist caught me up on this. (P.S. This isn’t

What can I say, what can you say? An issue that gets thrown around a lot for me has to do with talking. I will get asked ‘Why didn’t you tell me it was that bad?’ Often I want to reply ‘why did you not ask?’ Speaking is hard work. Our words impact, no matter the meaning behind it. Words are important to life. If I am having a bad day, the last thing I want to do is declare it to everyone. Mental illness is a very personal and private struggle. There are many feelings of anxiety, worthlessness, guilt, shame, denial, confusion, hopelessness......etc. It’s not easy to just blurt out ‘hey, just so you know, I don’t want to be alive’ It’s even hard to simply say ‘I’m sad’. This is one of the ironic symptoms of depression. The deeper we fall, the harder it is to reach out, which then in turn makes us fall harder and faster. Its hard for others to say something as well. For the people around a person suffering, there is a fear and awkwardness.  ‘Will I say the right thing?’ ‘I don’t w