It has been one year and six months since I left the hospital but boy does it feel like it was yesterday. Since leaving hospital I took the risky but neccessary decision to move away from family, friends and support to live in a city I had never been to before in order to complete a work placement. I was advised that this was not a great move but in order to complete my degree i had to do a 12 month placement. Because I spent all my time in 2nd year in and out of hospital and being ill I had missed out on applying for all the good placements. I was stuck in a strange city, with two housemate I had never met before doing telemarketing.
It has been a tough year and I will blog about all the things I learnt and experienced which hopefully will help others with simular illnesses realise that you can find inner strength to do things you would never think possible.
Currently I am returning to universsity which means i will have a lot more time to update this and will be blogging regularly. I am returning to the place where my depression began. I have to admit im preety anxious to be seeing all the places where I had scaring memories and horrible experiences. I am also scared about seeing some face of people who watched me spiral into depression. Will they forgive me, understant, or have they judged me and going to socialy cripple me with gossip and rumors.
My old housemate is the person I am dreading bumbing into. He was my best friend at uni, he watchmed me as my world collapsed and he stood by and did nothing. No support, no comfort, just steped back and watched me crashed. He then took the opportunity to take everything I was clinging onto, my firnds, my uni work and even the girl I liked. One year later I am going to have to face my dear and see him again. I beleive I have changed so much in a year, I feel more positive, strong, I feel like a completely different person while never feeling so much like myself at the same time.
I want to tell everyone that although life is harder for people like us with an illness, we can do things that we might of thought impossible. We can meet new people, get new jobs, even blend in with people who dont have depressive ilnesses. If you have an illness know that you CAN change and life WILL change its just finding that strength to start getting better and i believer that the strength lies in everyone you just need to ignite it!
Peace and Love
Anonymous
Sunday 5 September 2010
Tuesday 1 June 2010
Why I am Annonymous
I wanted to do a quick post outlining why I haven't used my real name on this blog. After starting this blog I thought some of the readers might think I am ashamed of being diagnosed with Depression. This is defiently not the case! My illness is a part of my personality, it makes me who I am, it affects my entire life as well as the people in it. However the reason I am annonymous is that I have made a lot of mistakes in my past affecting a lot of people in my life. I want to keep this blog as honest as open as possible and I feel i can do that properly if my identity is unknown!
For example, my last blog post about overdosing, that is information that none of my firends no. They know I was in hospital but for different reason related to my illness. I hope that this makes sense and I am going to keep this blog as honest as fresh as possible. I havent written anything for about two weeks. This is because I have been crazy busy with work and visiting firends on the weekend. I like to tell myself that keeping busy helps control my illness.
I guess its been working. I have been so focused on my job and traveling the UK I havent had time to think about or moan about being ill. It has almost been a good couple of weeks. However the only problem with this is that being busy creates stress that, for me, inflmaes some of my side symptoms. This I guess is my first tip, keep busy, not too busy, but busy enough!
For example, my last blog post about overdosing, that is information that none of my firends no. They know I was in hospital but for different reason related to my illness. I hope that this makes sense and I am going to keep this blog as honest as fresh as possible. I havent written anything for about two weeks. This is because I have been crazy busy with work and visiting firends on the weekend. I like to tell myself that keeping busy helps control my illness.
I guess its been working. I have been so focused on my job and traveling the UK I havent had time to think about or moan about being ill. It has almost been a good couple of weeks. However the only problem with this is that being busy creates stress that, for me, inflmaes some of my side symptoms. This I guess is my first tip, keep busy, not too busy, but busy enough!
Monday 19 April 2010
The Irony of the Overdose
After being diagnosed with mild depression I was put on a mild 15g of prozac. Because this was such a quick diagnosis I just went along with what ever the doctors were telling me. It wasn't until things had calmed down a little bit that the shock and realisation of what was happening sunk in. One of this biggest factors for the bad turn I took was the social pressures involved with being a depressive.
Natually I felt the need to inform my housemates at the time what was going on and why I suddenly had this relationship with the Uni Doctors! I had no expectations of what their reation was going to be. They had obviously heard of depression but I feel they had a completely wrong pre-conception of what it entails. I was associated with being needy, pathetic, whiney and all the other negative views people have on depression even though I wasn't actually any of things. I tried my hardest to keep my student life style alive. I socialised, I worked hard and obviously party'ed hard. A little too hard maybe.
It was on a night out for a friends birthday it all kicked off. I was far far too drunk for my own good and had the feeling everything was going to be fine. Obviously being drunk I don't remeber much of what happened and I am too scared to ask the people who were there so this is what I remember. Drinking loads, telling people I was ill, working my self up, crying, becoming scared, apoloigising than being walked home in a state! bad times. The next morning I was so horrified of what had happened and scared of life I felt the need to overdose.
I took 30 of my anti-depressents which on hine sight is a little bit ironic. I stayed in my room for 2 days with no food and no drink. I had a fever was in and out of cociousness, sweating, having delusions and seeing/hearing things. I vividly remember thinking my housemate was trying to kill me. I dont think I have ever been so scared in my life even though I now know this wasn't real. On the third day I realised this wasn't going to kill me and that I needed to go to the doctors. I found someone to give me a lift then was moved straight from the doctors to the hospital.
So what have I learned from my gamble with death. I learned how important life is and that even though at one point I didn't want to live that now, a year later I am happy and moving forward with my life. Things can and do get better. The three days alone in my room after the overdoes were the lowest point of my depression. All sorts of crazy shit was going on and I am still to this day haunted by a lot of it. In my next post I will take you through my time in the hospital, the social impacts of my over does and a quick bit on how I found God when I was the most alone I have ever been.
Natually I felt the need to inform my housemates at the time what was going on and why I suddenly had this relationship with the Uni Doctors! I had no expectations of what their reation was going to be. They had obviously heard of depression but I feel they had a completely wrong pre-conception of what it entails. I was associated with being needy, pathetic, whiney and all the other negative views people have on depression even though I wasn't actually any of things. I tried my hardest to keep my student life style alive. I socialised, I worked hard and obviously party'ed hard. A little too hard maybe.
It was on a night out for a friends birthday it all kicked off. I was far far too drunk for my own good and had the feeling everything was going to be fine. Obviously being drunk I don't remeber much of what happened and I am too scared to ask the people who were there so this is what I remember. Drinking loads, telling people I was ill, working my self up, crying, becoming scared, apoloigising than being walked home in a state! bad times. The next morning I was so horrified of what had happened and scared of life I felt the need to overdose.
I took 30 of my anti-depressents which on hine sight is a little bit ironic. I stayed in my room for 2 days with no food and no drink. I had a fever was in and out of cociousness, sweating, having delusions and seeing/hearing things. I vividly remember thinking my housemate was trying to kill me. I dont think I have ever been so scared in my life even though I now know this wasn't real. On the third day I realised this wasn't going to kill me and that I needed to go to the doctors. I found someone to give me a lift then was moved straight from the doctors to the hospital.
So what have I learned from my gamble with death. I learned how important life is and that even though at one point I didn't want to live that now, a year later I am happy and moving forward with my life. Things can and do get better. The three days alone in my room after the overdoes were the lowest point of my depression. All sorts of crazy shit was going on and I am still to this day haunted by a lot of it. In my next post I will take you through my time in the hospital, the social impacts of my over does and a quick bit on how I found God when I was the most alone I have ever been.
Sunday 11 April 2010
The Begining
I officialy was diagnosed with Psycotic Depression on the 28th March 2009. I was 20 and a Student at University. They caught the illness in a very late stage at could estimate I had been suffering for about 18 months. And too think I only went to the doctors because I didnt have an appetite. So how did I get Diagnosed?
After my first semister at University things started to go down hill. Friendships became a struggle to keep up with and I was finding myself become very needy and dependent on people. Strangely enough I thought it was just a bad stage or me trying to 'find who I was'. Turns out it was the begining stages of depression. During my second year I went to the doctors as my weight was rapidly decreassing but I just wasnt finsing myself hungry. After going in for what I thought could be a stomach bug I left being told I was depressed and I had to take medication. Natually this was a big shock and I don't think its too much to say I was slightly ashamed and ebarresed to be depressed. I did't want to tell anyone what was happening so I kept it quiet, took my medication and started to see a councilor.
After about a month things went from bad to worse as I tried to keep up the student life. After a terrible drunken night out where the depression really got on top of me I lost a lot of respect from friends. After that night I overdossed on my medication I had piced up the day before. I will write about this expreience in a seperate blog for more detail. I ended up spending two days in hospital I was released on caution being told I had to be checked for psycotic sytmptoms.
Since then I have had to live my life with this illness. I had a big struggle telling people about it and trying to get them to understand, which I will write about. I am also now on placement. Which basicaly means I had to up and leave to another city where I didn't know anyone and try and live and work. Ive had to struggle with girl friends. I have also become a Christian through this experience which I will also write about. If any of this relates to you, or you know someone like this, please read on to try and understand a few of the problems people with metal illness's suffer from!
Kind Regards.
After my first semister at University things started to go down hill. Friendships became a struggle to keep up with and I was finding myself become very needy and dependent on people. Strangely enough I thought it was just a bad stage or me trying to 'find who I was'. Turns out it was the begining stages of depression. During my second year I went to the doctors as my weight was rapidly decreassing but I just wasnt finsing myself hungry. After going in for what I thought could be a stomach bug I left being told I was depressed and I had to take medication. Natually this was a big shock and I don't think its too much to say I was slightly ashamed and ebarresed to be depressed. I did't want to tell anyone what was happening so I kept it quiet, took my medication and started to see a councilor.
After about a month things went from bad to worse as I tried to keep up the student life. After a terrible drunken night out where the depression really got on top of me I lost a lot of respect from friends. After that night I overdossed on my medication I had piced up the day before. I will write about this expreience in a seperate blog for more detail. I ended up spending two days in hospital I was released on caution being told I had to be checked for psycotic sytmptoms.
Since then I have had to live my life with this illness. I had a big struggle telling people about it and trying to get them to understand, which I will write about. I am also now on placement. Which basicaly means I had to up and leave to another city where I didn't know anyone and try and live and work. Ive had to struggle with girl friends. I have also become a Christian through this experience which I will also write about. If any of this relates to you, or you know someone like this, please read on to try and understand a few of the problems people with metal illness's suffer from!
Kind Regards.
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