The set-back

It doesn't take a great deal of understanding for someone reading these posts to realise that this whole situation frustrates me. It frustrates me a lot.

 

In December I felt like I was making real progress. For the first time in a long time I actually knew what it was like to feel content. I even knew what it felt like to feel happy. It is strange when you've had 15 years feeling below par to finally feel happy again. It's wonderful. It was the most amazing refreshing experience. I was actually enjoying being me.

 

I think that is why things have felt so hard recently. A lot has come up over the past month. I have found myself in a series of situations which have pushed me to my limit in terms of my mental health. And these experiences have resulted in the full works: extreme guilt, insomnia, anxiety, flashbacks, panic attacks. You name the depressive response, I've had it.

 

And all of that lead to this past weekend. This past weekend I felt exhausted. I felt like I had been treading water and dealing with problem after problem, and handling them and then the next one would come along in quick succession. And I had had enough. I was mentally exhausted. Which lead to the biggest depressive problem of all: suicidal thoughts.

 

Everyone talks about set-backs. Every information leaflet, helpful website, telephone call, therapy session. The path to the recovery from depression is not smooth. People talk in terms of two steps forward, one step back. Set-backs are normal. They are part of what happens to everyone.

 

But this weekend was the set-back which nearly broke me. The set-back which made me feel like I was back at square one. The set-back which has had me reassessing everything I'm doing and how I am handling things. The set-back that has me questioning myself and the solutions that I have been using to help me. It feels like I must be doing something wrong and that is why there was an issue, that is why there was a set-back. That I need to review my options.

 

And the need to review my options comes mainly from looking at the people around me and listening to their kind advice, and feeling like I need to do something. That there must be something I'm not doing right. The pressure is immense. The concern that I have screwed up in some way is ever present. The guilt is horrible. The guilt has been so bad that I haven't wanted to write here. I haven't wanted to let down any of the people who read this.

 

The thing is that as I write this I know that actually I haven't screwed up. I've been doing the right things for me. The past month has been a hard month. Depression is a hard and cruel illness. I haven't done anything wrong. Set-backs, even severe set-backs, happen. It takes time to recover. It can take weeks to recover if the set-back is particularly bad. But do you know what, I am recovering!

 

So I'm not going to spend any more time worrying about what I've done wrong. Or trying to justify myself to anyone else with accounts of what I have and haven't been doing. The most important thing is that I'm still here.

 

I may have bruises on my legs. I may have a substantial dent in my bin where I kicked it against a wall. But I'm still here.

 

So I'm afraid world you're just going to have to carry on putting up with me. I'm not giving up. And to quote Frank, I'm doing it my way.