Heyyy
Sorry for being MIA again, I’ve had deadlines all week and I really should be working on instead of typing this, but I’ve been really low, and I finally understand how I’m feeling enough to write about it. The upcoming weeks are full of hand-ins/finding literature and meetings which is exciting, but also means I’m barely getting time to do things I enjoy including writing these posts for you all.
I’m a very private person, I know it doesn’t seem like it and sometimes I sit and think that I’ve shown you all too much of me, but I really haven’t. My journey isn’t sunshine and rainbows, it’s not all dark and gloomy either. I’ve been up and down more times than I can even explain and yet I’ve never been in the current state I’m in. I’m happy.
Pre high school I was clever, I had really high marks in most tests and I excelled around the clock in subjects. The shift into year 7 had an incredible effect on me, I lost all my confidence and didn’t know who or what I was. I’ve spent the last 10 years working out who I am and for the first time I think I know.
I’m a woman whose life has never been easy, things don’t come easy to me and they probably never will. My brain struggles to understand and retain information, I find pleasure in learning until I’m tested and then I crumble. I’ve been given so much opportunity and been so spoilt that I’ll struggle in the future to live up to my own expectations. I have so much love and strength surrounding me and yet I prefer to fight my own battles and struggle alone and silent. I’ve spent so many years silently crying I struggle to emote in a normal fashion. I cry to TV shows I’ve seen thousands of times not only for relevance, but the opportunity to relive a moment that hurt which isn’t my own pain. I watch shows over and over again because I despise surprises, I ruin things before they get good, so I don’t get hurt. I have ridiculously high expectations for myself, for my future and when change comes along, I cower and decline.
Two years ago, I was struggling with everything. I was alone. I had friends, but I was alone. Today, now- I’m struggling with everything and I’m not alone. I have friends and they remind me continuously that I need them to get through this. Three years ago, I spoke about getting re-diagnosed with depression, I didn’t have the energy to fight it and though there is always light at the end of the tunnel I was barely crawling and wasn’t going to make it just yet. Three years later and though I am clearly very depressed I’m walking to the end of that tunnel; the problem is I have so many obstacles in my way.
A few weeks back I had a huge breakdown which changed everything for me, some random guy from tinder spoke to me nastily. Belittling me and questioning me, we spoke about religion and I spoke about my beliefs and in that time, I realised I wasn’t okay. I never was going to be okay because I couldn’t talk about what had happened to me. I couldn’t explain how I felt because I’ve never had to before. I go to therapy and I trick myself into thinking everything’s perfect, but it isn’t.
I’m moving away from London because my memories of the place are not good. I feel claustrophobic and running into people from my past stops me from being able to move on with my future. For as long as I can remember I’ve always wanted to leave London and a lot including myself didn’t think it’d ever be a reality. So, this comes to my predicament- how can I really want to leave if packing everything up is making me so depressed? I’ve lived there my whole life, minus for university and though I’ve always spoken about hating London it is home. It’s where my friends are and my family and my cats- but it’s not where I thrive.
I’ve been struggling for the past month with a lot, my depression has thrived, and I’ve really struggled with day-to-day tasks even if I’ve seemed to be in a good place. I’ve put off a lot of my uni work and been focused on Netflix, something I don’t typically put a lot of time into. I’ve rested and yet I’m still restless, having messed my sleep schedule and only recently sorting it out. I’ve cried most nights, mainly to my TV shows but also at the pure incompetence of my motivation at the moment. I’ve cried over and over again looking at the list of uni work I have left to do before the end of my masters, and I’ve cried knowing I’m basically at the end.
I’ve been back and forth between Carlisle and London for multiple medical appointments and in the last month had an ear infection, sprained foot, multiple PCOS appointments, acne appointments, a UTI and an allergic reaction to medication. I’m shattered, I feel like people think I’m ridiculously dramatic especially around my health, but the truth is I do have bad health and even if I look after myself, I still end up stuck in this state where I can’t even look after myself.
Mentally I’ve been low, and I’ve tried to work through it, in every way possible. I’ve been to therapy and recently just joined a waiting list for CBT therapy with all sorts of hope that it helps. I’m really trying hard, without pushing myself, to better my mental state and it’s been so difficult. I’ve had to deal with the mental strain of more PCOS appointments and knowing I’m getting closer to ages where I’d love a child and I’m having to consider freezing eggs is really difficult for me. I don’t know what the upcoming months have planned for me, hopefully a dissertation which goes to my detailed plan and a move into my new flat which also goes to plan. But mentally I don’t know.
At what point do we stop being hopeful that better days exist? I’ve waited years to be in a good place, to be not only dreaming about my future but living in it. I’m sitting applying for a PhD which I never thought would be possible and I’m moving to a city which I have loved (on my two visits), I’m stronger than ever because I can do things independently. I’m able to walk into the hospital alone, I’m able to go food shopping alone, I’m able to live alone. Things I wasn’t sure I’d ever manage I’m now capable of and I’m not sure what this means for my future, but long may it continue. I deserve it to continue.
I’ve tried, and succeeded in many ways, to be off social media over the past weeks with everything that’s happened in the media to women. One day I’ll be able to speak freely about my own experiences but it’s not now and I’ve struggled to keep myself sane in such a triggering time. Does it get easier over time? That’s a genuine question because so far, I’m not convinced.
I’m going to attempt to be more productive on here, I’ve got a lot to say, and this is my only outlet without burdening my friends and family. I love you all, thank you for sticking this out. I’ve seen all the views in the 3 weeks I’ve been MIA, I’ve seen the new followers. I appreciate you all.
More than a Diagnosis 