Why I decided to write about my depression

One of the reasons I decided to write about my experiences is because I basically got to a point where I felt so low that there was nowhere else to go.

It was a perfect storm of circumstance if you like. Things came together imperfectly to create the perfect low.

Added to this ‘stuff’, I’d been told that I was spending too much time saying how I felt. I can see the point of view.

Unfortunately for me it was like being told ‘you’re worthless, embarrassing, your experiences make you a freak and I’m fed up hearing it.’ I’m not at all suggesting this was the intention, or indeed remotely what was said, but it was what I ‘heard’.

I wasn’t well then, I’m not fantastically well now either, however I see that other people have to look after themselves and I totally get that. All I’m saying is that I found it hard and, being totally honest, I still do.

I am terrified of rejection, I’m terrified of being hurt. But I’m also an adult who understands it’s far more complicated than the abused child might want to see things.

So I started writing in an attempt to stop alienating people face to face and fully realising that I will alienate many through what I say here, but somehow I have to do it. And if I don’t write it here, I’ll clam up again and that won’t help me recover. In fact it might be really rather dangerous to my health.

I’m not about judging or blaming others. People have to look after and take appropriate responsibility for themselves. This is my way of coping and hopefully healing one day. And finding the right balance to help me on my way.