It never fully goes away

Depression: Depression may be described as feeling sad, blue, unhappy, miserable, or down in the dumps. Most of us feel this way at one time or another for short periods.

 

      Those unlucky souls who suffer from depression, like me, can vouch for me when I say that it never fully goes away. It comes in waves..sometimes soft and other times they are turbulent rushes. So far I can admit that this 'relapse' is going to be a mild one, yet it still drives me to the point of insanity to think that yet again the same old sad song is going to be replaying in my head for a while. 

      Just like the seasons, you can see and feel depression coming back in it's repetitive cycle. The sleepiness, the lethargy, no energy, the mood swings and the emptiness feeling is overpowering and takes over every crevice of your body it can find to cling onto. The spaces between your fingers, the hiding spot behind your ears and the maze of body hair it entwines itself to make a sad, dingy home. 

     Depression is much more than just being sad. It's a sense of hopelessness. The average person can crack a smile and the sadness breaks but those who suffer from depression can also smile but the pain behind it is muted until they're alone, no one is looking, or something triggers a thought they don't want to be reminded of. 

     I am a victim of not only this disease, I am a victim to myself. I have a history of self-harm and a dark past of suicidal attempts. It all started for me in Junior High, my parents were going through an extremely hard time in their marriage and crumbled. My weapon of choice? Anything sharp. Pencils, needles, scissors, knives, and if I was feeling really cynical, I'd use something dull to make myself suffer even more and cause more pain to repeatedly go over and over the wound to make a cut I felt was "satisfactory." Although I looked down at my arms and thought this was harmless, it wasn't until high school that I started doing worse damage to myself. I was in sports, which made things a little better but like I mentioned before, only temporary. Sports kept me in check. I was on the volleyball team so of course my arms were in focus during practice and games and wearing small spandex as uniform(my thighs were off limit to cut) I had started to cut my breasts, my ribs, my sternum, even my butt cheeks(lol) but I literally harmed any spot I could find that wasn't obvious to the eye. 

     After high school, my parents finally separated, after almost a decade of sleeping in different rooms and not speaking whatsoever, my dad cheated and abandoned us. My wolrd came crashing down and screeching to a halt. I was in an unhealthy relationship with a guy who treated me horridly. He'd verbally abuse me, scream in my face, call me names, say I'm worthless and talked down on me constantly. I didn't have the courage to leave him because the most important man in my life walked out on me and left his family in the dust... I wasn't about to lose this guy who "loved" me still. That relationship was so draining. So much suffering and tears were spent on just a short amount of time being together. Nine months is all it took for us to resent each other. I tried to commit suicide the night my dad left. I was isoalted in my room, dragged the razor as roughly as I could through my wrist and waited. I remember it not hurting as bad as I thought it would, so I tried to rush the process by sleeping. My mom, knowing my history of depression, comes barging into my room to find me bleeding out. Rushed me to the hospital and from then on I don't remember much. I feel asleep from the medication and woke up the next day to my mom, sister and brother looking at me with tears in their eyes and I vividly remember the shame and guilt I felt. looking at them as their staring at me as if I was a dream "is she really alive?" I could never forgive myself for making them feel that way. I vowed to never let myself get that close to kissing death.

     After talking to the doctors and telling them the story of what happened and why I did it, they emitted me into an inpatient treatment in which I stayed for four days. They watched over me and declared that I was severely depressed(duh). They referred me to a therapist where I went to go talk to her every week. I told her everything, I cried on her couch, I became an open book, she looked at me with pain in her eyes too, she was my savior at that time. She was actually listening to me! When she felt that my depression was under control and I wasn't harmful to myself or others, she handed me her assessment of our sessions. 

The first assessment was of the first meeting we ever had: "Patient is severely depressed to the point of recklessness, selfloathing, suicide and possible harm to others." The last assessment she wrote: "Patient is resilient!" I overcame that battle with her help and she taught me how to cope with things better and how to accept what I cannot change. Yes, i'll admit that I still get depressed but nothing compared to that episode of my life. 

I survived and I always will! 

It gets better my lovelies, I promise❤