It was a big deal to take medication for my depression. I’d say it’s only now I’m seeing the combined benefits of therapy and medication starting to kick in. It’s taken a while (I started medication in September last year.)
I’m more able to manage on a day to day basis. I can make sense of the world I inhabit to an extent….but there’s still a struggle.
I’d like to be on my own and yet I crave company with my good friends. I’m desperate for this nightmare to be over. I’m guilty that I can’t shed the load I carry each day.
I’m confused. I don’t know who I am and that’s frightening. My mind keeps trying to protect me by telling me I’m a fraud. I wasn’t in fear of my life, I was just crap at managing a stressful situation.
I wasn’t a child abused, I was merely a deeply emotional and sensitive child who struggled to find my way amongst others who were very different. That’s what my mind is trying to tell me.
I’d very much like to self harm because in a way it helps me cope. But I’d be disappointed in myself if I did. It would feel like a major step backwards. Hence the writing here.
The inside of my head is such a complex place. I fear judgement from others when I share this but I’m doing it anyway. I worry that people ‘put up with me’ because they’re too nice to tell me to go away. I love my friendships but maintaining them causes me so much pain. Relationships with people I trust means potential harm you see-they could hurt me, judge me, push me away, dislike me for something I say or do.
That’s how it is for me. I’ll leave with a positive though. I managed to attend a life drawing class and completed my first ever sketch. Considering how much human beings can potentially terrify me on so many levels, I’m proud of my achievement. And the drawing’sbit bad either.