Saturday 9th June 2018
I think now would be a very good time to bring up the subject of depression. The following words may not be easy to read as it deals with a real life issue that affects suffers all over the world on a daily basis. Chances are that you or someone you may know has this insidious condition and unless you know what its like to experience it, its seriously hard to describe. It's important to note that anyone who has depression, has their own journey. Although journey's may follow similar paths at times, they all have their own destination. Some are lucky to find the light at the end of the tunnel sooner than others, while some journeys continue for years and at times it feels like you have reached the destination, only to be confronted by something else that drags you back. Sadly some don't reach their destination at all. Some people just give every last bit of energy inside them, fight every battle that presents itself and as each one of those battles gets tougher and tougher, begin to feel that the journey is not worth continuing, that its just way to hard to keep going on like this trying to be so many things to so many people and feeling like you have nothing left for yourself because you given everything and neglected yourself in the process.
Its kind of strange in a sense because growing up I always knew I was different from everyone else and struggled to find my place in the universe but was I sad? No, not really. I was living in the country and when things got to much for me, I just jumped on my bike and peddled off to find seclusion away from the rest of the world. Most of the time for me, that was a place called the Nhill lake.
Nhill was a small country town halfway between Melbourne and Adelaide with a population of 2300. It had three amazing pubs and of course, it's biggest draw card, the Talking Horse. The horse was a big black statue of a horse standing on what could only be described as a mountain of rocks. It stood proudly in the main street and it's main purpose in life was to inform the many tourists that had stopped by looking for some respite from the drive between our two cities, some back ground information about our beautiful little town. Yes, for twenty cents you could hear all about how our town was built and put together with the help of this amazing horse.
The word Nhill was derived from an Aboriginal word meaning Mist over Water. The towns name seemed somewhat appropriate as our winters were freezing cold and most mornings were spent waking up early to see how much our front lawn had frozen over and then running out to walk on it to leave our footprints behind on it. Ahhhh, the days before computers and Ipads when we had to make our own entertainment. Back in a time when a mere footprint left in a patch of grass would brighten my day if for only a short time. I actually remember a news story that appeared in our local paper about a tap that had been left on overnight in the park near the horse by chance. The tap had been photographed the next morning with a column of ice protruding from the tap itself, leading to the ground. Clearly a slow news day by most standards but in Nhill, it was the talk of the town.
Nhill Lake was a beautiful little spot that had a trail that went right around the circumference of the lake itself. I would just head down there and pedal around it, find a quiet place, usually by a fallen log and just sit there looking out across the water. Sometimes I'd even take a fishing rod, not that I'd ever catch anything but it was nice to sit there with a purpose at times. Truth be told, if I ever caught a fish, I wouldn't know what to do with it so I always considered myself lucky that i never did while I was alone. Further truth, I had no chance of catching anything as I hated touching worms so I used spinners. The fish in Nhill lake were clearly blind because they never saw them.
I guess, I have always been a bit of a dreamer. Thinking back to those much more simpler days of sitting by the log at Nhill lake to sitting here at my desk typing these words now, I have always dreamed of bigger and better things for myself. The reality is, I can be very lazy at times. I have these great big ideas on what I want to do and things I want to achieve, go crazy on it for a little while then think, whats the point, who's going to read this anyway? I have half written so many books over the years the same way. I have these awesome ideas for stories, sit down and write them then the insecurities creep in and I just give up. I guess for me, writing this has been a little different because it's almost happening in real time so when I see your views and feedback, I know people are reading this and maybe someone will find it interesting if not helpful in some way.
The point of all that was to try and explain that although I was bullied at school and felt like I didn't fit in anywhere and I knew I was different didn't necessarily mean that my early years were filled with sadness. On the contrary, my years growing up in the country were some of my happiest moments spent on this earth. It wasn't until moving to the city that I began to realise how different I really was and how much I didn't fit in. The children at my new school had no qualms about pointing out my many flaws there. Now I didn't have the Nhill lake to pedal to, in fact I didn't have anywhere to go to that was anything like my lake. More and more I became more reclusive and really not wanting to go out anywhere.
Acceptance into groups or anything was not an easy thing. I just never really fit in anywhere all the time knowing why, but being to scared to say anything knowing at the time, it was a totally different world and not one I would have given myself much chance in. When an organisation like the Salvation Army accepted me, it was the first time that I had actually felt apart of something. To be honest again, they didn't obviously know what they were accepting but to me at that time it was just what I needed to belong somewhere. They welcomed me in, gave me responsibility and purpose and most importantly, they loved me.
I guess, thinking back now as I'm writing this, what I refer to along my journey as the black hole, has never been far away. I call it the black hole because that's what it feels like. I can feel it closing in on me and I'm running as fast as I can but little by little it keeps drawing me into the centre and once that happens I'm gone for undetermined amount of time. It might be a day or two or as long as a week to a month. I try my best to hide it from the people I work with but when you are this person that spends most of the time jumping around like you have just overdosed on energy drinks to a person who is quiet and withdrawn and does her best not to make eye contact for fear of bursting into tears, its kind of noticeable after a while.
The worst part about having depression is that when people ask me am I alright? Clearly I'm not but you try and shrug it off and say things like, "Yeah, I'm ok, maybe a little tired." it's because more often than not, I can't tell you whats wrong. I have no magic answer for why I didn't feel like getting out of bed this morning, I have no logical explanation for why while driving to work this morning, I burst into tears and nearly drove off the road and drove my car into a tree or off a bridge. There are so many days where I have woken up and asked God to take me away from this pain that I feel everyday. I remember a line from the movie Titanic that sums up the way I felt very well. "Sometimes I feel I'm in a room full of people screaming at the top of my lungs and no one is listening".
Those last fifteen years of my marriage was like that on almost a daily basis. I simply wanted to die, I couldn't take the lie I was living but felt trapped because I was told if I left, my family would be told about me, my work would be told about me. I was told that everyone would think that I was a freak with mental issues and everyone would reject me. My only saving grace at the time was my job.
I can't tell you how many times my job has brought me back from the point of finishing my own journey and not reaching my destination. I can tell you now, the only thing that kept me alive was those kids. Arriving at work everyday and walking into my room and having a room full of kids running towards me screaming my name and all trying to get close enough for that first hug of the day. THAT KEPT ME ALIVE!!!
There were times when I used to say to my wife that I had to go over to the centre and catch up on some work on the weekend. I'd head over early in the morning and usually get back after dark. What was a doing for so long. Mostly sleeping on the couch in my room to avoid being at home in a toxic environment. I admit that I was pathetic, I was spineless and anything else you can think of. I had no self-esteem and certainly no self-respect. Every ounce of dignity had left me and I was only moving forward because of my kids.
I tried to get help, I spoke to Doctors and seeked counselling and although they were more than happy to put me on a mental health plan and hand out Anti-depressants, the thing that would really help me, was never going to happen. They wanted my wife to come in to sit in on a session but to her, I was putting on the whole thing and looking for attention. She used to say, "I'm depressed, I don't need anything. Get over it".
Please understand, this post is not about demonising my wife, its just about trying to give so prospective into my state of mind around that time in my life. I accept a lot of the responsibility because I know I wasn't easy to live with during this time. I spent most of my time skulking around, withdrawn and I suppose not a great deal of fun to be around so I can't blame her for everything.
In the end, I discovered that I wasn't alone in my journey. I can 't stress this point strong enough. YOU'RE NOT ALONE. Living with Depression you feel like your the only one going through it and no one else will understand. Please let me stress this that it's so not true. There are many of us that live with this every single day with the only difference they find better ways to deal with it. My way of dealing with it was to talk about it a lot. To find people who you can trust and confide in and tell them how you feel and what you are going through. Never be ashamed to hide what you are feeling. I spoke about it to anyone who would listen and I didn't care if it was people at work, people online or a bunch of guests who came to my 40th Birthday party.
The more I spoke about it, the easier things became and the more I realised that I wasn't alone. Before long I created a Facebook page dedicated to helping other people going through what I was going through. The group became a safe place for anyone to share what they were feeling and what they were going through and for them to know that there was always someone ready to talk with you day and night as their were members from all over.
This post has been one of the hardest ones to write so far and have had numerous breaks while writing it because it has brought back a lot of memories. If it has stirred up anything or triggered your own memories, please click on one of the links that I will leave to below or feel free to contact me if you need to chat about anything I may of raised or touched on here. Most of all, Please remember that YOU'RE NOT ALONE.
Sharon
My depression page.
Thanks again for sharing and well done on including some helpful links for folks. I agree that talking and sharing can be really freeing and healing. Good for you Sharon
ReplyDeleteThank you so much Felicity for your lovely feedback on this one. Truly appreciate it.
Delete