Posted by Anonymous on 2011/04/03 under Uncategorized Hi, I’m really not sure at all how to write this, or even if I’m going to send it once I’ve finished, but I’ll type away and see where I get too. My name is Lewis, I’m 19, and as well as numerous other daily reminders, the sight of my computer desk littered with medication boxes tells me that I suffer from depression. I’ve not been ‘diagnosed’ for too long, about 9 months, but I have felt this way for most of my teen life. In recent months I’ve been battling immensely hard against depression with the help of courses of tablets, and the best positive outlook possible for me. There have been times where I have felt truly awful, and gained understanding as to why ‘pain’ is metaphorically linked with emotions. I’ve always been an emotional person, I don’t mean that in the sense of being overcome by tears at the slightest thing, just a more general acceptance and knowing of what I am feeling – be it sadness or any other. Lewis x
I went to the doctors around August last year, after feeling low all of one day (at the time, I just thought I was a moody bastard) lead to a falling out in my family, and me wandering the streets struggling to think for crying. I explained to the doctor all about my life, the things that make me happy [my job and sports life, family etc..] and we then tried to pick out where and why I was feeling the way I was. To be honest, by the time I had made an appointment (which, being the result of absolutely shocking receptionist work, was a while after!) I kind of knew it was depression. He gave me a few options, and I decided on getting some tablets to try and sort it out. I was, and still rather am, a bit sceptical of, well, everything, including this. It doesn’t quite fit harmoniously into my mind that a concoction of chemicals pressed into a pill can change my whole way of thinking, my views of life and my overall general happiness – but, I don’t know best, so I gave them a go. After a couple of weeks of building the routine of a Fluoxetine a day (Which is another thing that I’ve never been able to grasp, Routine) I felt rather ok. I was going to work with a smile, and coming home with one – but it didn’t really help too much, two months later I found, from somewhere inside my endless, empty mind, a willingness to return to the doctors surgery, and repeat the emotional pressure release that I had done months previous. He gave me a little questionnaire, which found me to be in a worse state of depression than last time (wonkily printed questionnaires are great for this, apparently). I was advised to start another course of tablets, this time 2 tablets a day, of 70g Lofepramine. This had pretty much the same effect, but with the added bonus of helping me sleep. Oh yeah, didn’t mention that part – I’ve suffered for years also with a terrible terrible sleeping pattern, such absolute numbness of mind laying in bed trying to sleep often brings on thoughts, with bring on further thoughts and so on, ultimately ending with a blankness in my mind, and me sleeping in puddles of tears. So I was now, boosted by the thought that every little demon of a bad thought in my head would be ousted by my tablets, getting on with my life… slowly, patiently plodding along.
Things did soon begin to look up, I’d began talking, and feeling close with a girl (Oh, it was always going to come into it (Apologies if you’ve heard every relationship worry going)) We got closer, and talked more. At long last, I’d finally found someone who walked this planet who was genuinely interested in what I said, how I was feeling, and what I thought inside my dark, depressed mind. My life really did pick up. I actually felt as if I wanted to leave my house, that somebody else actually wanted me too, and I’d also kind of found the encouragement to change myself and to cure this depression. This was in November, and by December we were a couple. All throughout these feelings I’d never had a girlfriend, I’d got close to a couple of girls, but didn’t do too much to push for a relationship – mainly because of the pressure, and often embarrassed of my illness. But now, I’d found the person I’d waited for, the person I really felt secure with, someone I thought could grow with me and be my inspiration. All went well for a few months (I’ll skip the detail, typical pessimism!) until last month. I’d been invited to a wedding, Amy (I’d put something in brackets, but I’m sure you made the assumption of who Amy is) had asked me to come, it was her Aunty’s (They are relatively the same age, and more like sisters) wedding. The day was brilliant, as was the night – I talked more in depth with her family, and really felt a part of the whole thing – one defining moment of this, was watching Amy getting her photo taken with the family, I was just leaning against a hand rail, looking at how happy she was, and thinking about how happy I was becoming. Being shouted from my day dream, I looked over to see her Grandad, the great head figure of the family, calling me over to join with his families photo. This felt awesome, it really meant that I was accepted, something I’d not really felt before, apart from with my own parents. A couple of days after the wedding, I got a call from Amy to say that her Grandad was ill, he’d been taken into hospital unconscious. Later I got another call telling me that, tragically, he had died. I did my best, as you would, to comfort, help – everything possible. This seemed to be the beginning of a real parting between me and her. I tried so hard, all the time to comfort Amy, but still weeks after it was getting turned around and I was again looking like s***. I fully expected things to be hard for her, but running parallel to her being distant from me, and nastily rubbishing my attempts to help, was again the same old feelings that I was used to. Familiar notions of despair and utter dissoluteness were steadily returning. As the rivers of my first good feelings for 5, maybe 6 years started running dry, The old ones began filling with the old feelings and thoughts (I’m sorry for using silly imagery and metaphors and what-not, sending an email can let me pretend to be a little bit clever at least!) and they really flooded back.
We broke up, well, ‘we’ didn’t break up, She did. And to be honest, I’d move the earth absolutely, to go back to how we were. I love this girl, it’s unreal the amount. But that’s not what I’m writing this for, I’m not looking for a cheap ‘there’s plenty more fish in the sea’ kind of thing, I’m more than sure I’ll have enough of that waiting for me in the form of Facebook comments from people who pretend to be my friend. (Ooh, that really was a bitter comment!)
At the time, I felt better, I thought I was better, cured – I thought that I’d finally found the stability and inspiration needed to help me to dig myself out of this hole. So, me being me, sceptic as I said at the start, stopped taking my tablets. But I wasn’t cured, obviously. I’d just found something that introduced a spark to a very dim, and lifeless fire – and like everything I’ve ever wanted, ever had and ever dreamt about, it just wasn’t enough. So now I’m left, every night, the same time, I turn off my light, get in to bed and cry. I don’t posses any other thoughts at the moment, all I can feel inside me is absolute darkness – just pure pain when I lie down, and my mind goes blank. I search all over, for something to occupy my mind, but all I can seem to find is the usual depression that seems to fill every part of my body. I’ve slept, in total for 12 hours this week – it’s having an awful effect on my work, my mind and my health. I’m going to make another doctors appointment when I get my dinner break tomorrow at work, but I have little faith in whatever it may bring.
I need something to stop this depression from dissolving the rest of my mind.
(Affix signature here)[The kiss is habitual, but I won’t delete it]