depression
It is not just a matter of feeling sad; discover an honest view of the mental, emotional and physical toll of clinical depression.
Wonder
Do you know what I wonder on most days? And I’m not saying this to alarm anyone or for attention, and no, I’m not suicidal. I’ m just curious what it feels like to die. What chai of events it would release, if it would be marked as a point in the universe, spark something beautiful to happen? Sometimes I’m so eager to find out, that I have to force myself to not take those two, three steps into the road flooding with cars, just imagine what the impact would feel like, what would my brain, body and response be like… I guess it would hurt, that part we wall know but what after that? Would I become a shooting start in the night sky? Would I be over and around my loved one? Watch over the, even see them? Or would I be reincarnated into an animal or another human being in our current, past, or future earth? It is interesting to wonder. However much I wonder I guess I could never go through with it, my body will physically never let me do it, my mind has this auto play of collections of images and videos of my little cousins (not so little anymore, ah they grow up so fast), my partner, my family and it doesn’t give up until I retract myself from “the danger”.
By Sandra Wilberforce5 years ago in Psyche
Depression; Do Not Suffer In Silence.
I am not a sufferer of depression by any means, I am naturally a very jolly, upbeat person. However I have experienced depression in my life, really badly, four times now. I have recently just come out of the other side of a really bad spell of depression, luckily this time it only lasted a few days. So with all of my last depression experiences in my mind, I want to offer you all the best advice which I can offer if you are currently suffering, because depression is such an awful place to be. So if you are currently suffering I really feel for you and I send you all my love.
By Hayley Dodwell5 years ago in Psyche
The Start of an Emotional Journey
I was just a regular girl, debating on what I was going to do with my life. I sat there in class, at First Choice Academy, where I was currently taking my CNA (certified nurses aid) classes. My instructor was very nice and was a nurse, on top of being a teacher! He was really understanding, a great listener and tried to give the best advice without sounding rude but also being 100% honest. I immediately felt like I could trust him. As we are going over our textbook, we were on the topic of depression, anxiety- mental health in general. I remember our discussion of it not being a “normal behavior.” After reading that and hearing it, it just made me feel not normal. I feel these feelings all the time, thinking it’s a normal thing to experience. It is a common diagnosis but it’s not “normal.” One day I showed up to class.. late, which isn’t like me. I’m always on time, if not early! I had gotten into an argument with my boyfriend beforehand and it made an impact on my mood that day. My bad day was written all over my face, according to the teacher and asked me what was wrong. It was hard to talk about. It was a very sensitive subject. I was being abused by my boyfriend, who almost didn’t let me take these classes in the first place. I told my instructor I was fine. I was just having a bummy day. He knew I was lying. He knew something else was wrong. I got home that same night, my classes were from 430 to 930. My boyfriend and I got into another argument. I ended up texting Marc, my instructor and asking him a question that we learned in class earlier that week. I already knew the answer. I just wanted to hint that I was in desperate need of help without actually saying the words “I need help.” “Is depression normal?” was my question. Then he really knew something was up. I was depressed, anxious, scared, ashamed. I was feeling so many emotions I didn’t know how to handle them all at once. I was in such a toxic and abusive relationship. I was always being choked, hit and called horrible names. I was a punching bag for this man that I really loved and who claimed to love me back. But how do you hurt the one you supposedly love? I was raped multiple times but was told it was “okay because we were in a serious relationship.” I was 19, young and dumb and always blame myself for what happened. Anyways, during this time of CNA classes and finally opening up about being in an abusive relationship. I developed an old habit that got out of hand again. I was self harming. My depression was to the point where I hit rock bottom. I didn’t want to live anymore. I wanted out of that relationship. I was just too scared to leave. What would happen if I tried? I had no one else to turn to. I remember telling my boyfriend one day in front of a group of people that I was done and didn’t want to be with him anymore. I did this on purpose so I had witnesses and didn’t feel as scared because I didn’t think he would hurt me in front of them. It took me a while to find a place to stay so I slept in my car and found places to park overnight. My best friend talked to her family about letting me stay there for a while after explaining some of the stuff I had been through recently. That night was a bad night. I was an emotional wreck. I didn’t understand what was going on. I honestly thought I was dreaming because I was finally able to get out. It didn’t seem real. Unfortunately, that’s when the self harm got worse. I went into my friend's bathroom and opened my new knife I had bought because my older ones weren’t as sharp and weren't leaving me satisfied enough. I sliced my arm three times, and on the last time I saw my skin literally cut.. like butter. There was blood everywhere. My arm was exposed through so many layers of skin. I could even see the fatty tissue, which is what the doctor told me the yellow, tendon looking string looked like. I was too afraid to go to the hospital because I didn’t want to be sectioned and knew that I needed stitches. I didn’t tell anyone until one day I felt brave enough to message Marc and tell him I had a problem. I opened up to him about my self harm and cutting, my emotions and being raped and beaten on a daily basis. He knew something serious was going on after I started talking to him, especially being on a day we didn’t have class. He asked me what was wrong and I told him I knew I cut too deep but I didn’t know what to do and that I was scared to go to the hospital. I took a picture and sent it to him. He told me I needed to go to the hospital because it was too deep, black and definitely had an infection going on. I bravely went to the hospital after texting Marc but he reassured me everything was going to be okay. I got to the hospital. I was sobbing for hours and so vulnerable at the time. I didn’t tell anyone I was at the hospital. The only person who knew was Marc. The doctor came in, looked at my arm and had asked me how long it had been before making the decision to go to the E.R. I waited two days, which was two days too late to get stitches, without them having to re-cut my arm back open and stitch it shut. I declined and just got it scrubbed clean and bandaged. I was asked all the basic questions, like if I felt suicidal or if I was going to go back home and keep hurting myself. I couldn’t answer these questions because as they were being asked the only response I had was tears. I couldn’t face reality at this point. I willingly took some medications to help calm me down and sedate me and then stayed at the hospital overnight. But this was just the beginning.
By Valarie Marsh5 years ago in Psyche
Depression is Funny
Depression is something I think we're all dealing with on some level right now. With how insane 2020 has been to every single person around the world, mental health is at a serious decline. It’s real, it's serious, and I think it’s important for all to understand its depth.
By Mikayla Kraus5 years ago in Psyche
Bipolar Disorder or Order?
Robin Williams saved my life. It was his death that finally made me realise I had to do something to stop this crazy life I was living and face up to the truth. There was something not quite right in my head and it hadn't been quite right for a really long time! I was an absolute car-crash in more ways than one; self-medicating heavily behind the scenes because I was so depressed, then manically entertaining everybody I met so they wouldn't see right through my carefully veiled facade. I'm an actress, good at playing real characters, so it was easy to fool people but not so easy to continue fooling myself. I tried the doctor and she told me there was nothing wrong with me,which anyone who's met me knows I'm as mad as a box of frogs, so I sought a second opinion. She told me to refer myself to the local mental health service as I'd be seen quicker. Not an easy thing to do as effectively you are admitting you have a mental problem but what choice did I have?! So I made the call. Cut a long story short, I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder Type 2, which (for anyone who doesn't know) has more depressive episodes than manic ones. Either way, it's a pain in the arse to live with and you have to "manage" it every single day or it catches you unawares! My moods can go up and down like a tart's knickers! I'd been struggling with Bipolar undiagnosed for 30 years which is a bloody long time and I was angry yet relieved. I remember the nurse once asking me how having Bipolar affects my normal everyday life to which I replied, 'I can't answer that question, this is my normal everyday life!!'. Which brings me around to the question, what is normal exactly? We all have mood swings, high and low points in our lives but for some of us it's like an extreme rollercoaster and impossible to keep a lid on. We need more understanding in the world about mental illness full stop. I've always spoken out about my mental illness. I'm proud of it. It makes me who I am and what I can do creatively. To me I'm perfectly normal and have order in my own way. Others would beg to differ but I don't care, I'm doing the very best I can and that's good enough for me. Until next time...be kind and take care x
By Charlotte Kiely5 years ago in Psyche
When life feels foggy.
I was struggling recently to describe how I was feeling. Internal self reflection and emotional intelligence are two areas of strength for me so not being able to articulate my feelings feels foreign. Now I am the type of girl who listens to music reflective of what I am experiencing. There are people out there who may listen to sad love songs despite being in fulfilling, loving relationships for example; that is not me. Since getting a new car, I have mainly been streaming music through my phone. Aside from my 6-year-old daughter commandeering the playlist, I have picked a soundtrack reflective of how I am feeling day to day, but typically it has varied within weeks or months. The first sign my emotional reader was off involved none of my musical choices seeming quite right. I am not happy enough to listen here. I am not sad enough to listen there. Nothing fit! I switched to XM radio for variety out of frustration and as I was trying to summarize all this to my friend, I saw myself type out telling words: I feel like I am in a hazy fog and cannot see through it. BOOM. Depression!
By Christina K. Pierce5 years ago in Psyche
Live with Depression
I want to first start off by sharing some words I found that just is so true. For anyone suffering with anxiety or depression in your life and you are wondering why you are always so tired and weak. YOU ARE NOT! You are fighting a constant battle every single day, if that is not exhausting then I really don't know what else is. Try to always remember you are a WARRIOR and you need to go a little easier on yourself and the criticisms you give yourself.
By Life of a Gemini 5 years ago in Psyche
I Wanted to Scream
Hear me scream! This is me after a long peaceful quiet walk on a beautiful midwestern fall day. The weather could not have been more perfect. The sky was clear, the air was fresh and crisp, the temperature was cool, the sun was warm, the colors were vibrant. It was a "perfect" fall day by most people's standards.
By Kris Neilson5 years ago in Psyche
The Time I Experienced a Perfect Miracle
I find that there is so much beauty in the world and I love my life. I have not always felt this way but after a long string of both unfavorable and favorable experiences in my life, I have concluded that I live a very beautiful life. Every day is really a miracle for me and I am always in a perpetual state of awe, appreciation, and grace. I remember being very depressed as a young child until I was about 21 years old. My life seemed so bleak and nothing seemed to have any real meaning to me. My favorite part of the day was sleeping and I could not wait for the day to be over so that I could sleep for 9 hours. I hated my waking life and much preferred my dream life. I was terrified of the future and where I would end up. I could not find any sort of silver lining and I would recurrently wish that my life was over.
By Dream Silas5 years ago in Psyche
Navigating Depression in Business as an Artist
Like many other unfortunate writers, I have been supporting myself by working in a dead-end job. Many of my skills I've developed while getting my BA in writing are in terrible neglect as I continue working at a resale e-commerce company which finds little need for someone good with a pen.
By Sean Catino5 years ago in Psyche
