What a difference a day makes

On Wednesday I wrote about how I was feeling during a low. Afterwards, I got home from a wonderful rehearsal where my two friends, without even realising it, reassured me that everything was ok, despite my belief I'd been a handful and therefore upset them the previous week. The next day I went to work and caught sight of myself in a mirror - puffy eyes, drained, pale skin - in short, I looked a mess. By 9.30 my manager called me into his office, asked me what was wrong, then sent me home. I didn't want to leave because, naturally, the depressive instinct was making me feel like I would be letting everyone down if I gave in, but I forced myself out of the door and headed home. It seemed that the depression had taken hold of me.

Much to my surprise, my boyfriend was still in bed - he has a terrible habit of oversleeping, but this meant I had instant reassurance and support and, after a few hours sleep, lunch in bed (he ended up working from home until about 2 or 3pm). We talked about me taking some meds and he confidently told me that there was no way I needed to take them at this stage and that we needed to give it longer rather than taking them after one bad day. I slept for a large proportion of Thursday and then set about sorting my head out. I received a lovely comment on my blog about my low self esteem and so forced myself to start thinking positively about life - I also received a lot of lovely comments and helpful things from friends. I was still a bit wobbly by the evening, but I would definitely say I was back up to 5 or 6 out of 10 on the confidence scale.

I also had a revelation about one of the possible reasons for this low - I've already mentioned my family and work, but on Thursday, I thought about my relationship. Over the summer we went to America and spent 3 weeks constantly together. Since returning, first I spent a week visiting my dad, then my boyfriend was working 'til 10pm most nights for a week, then he went away with the boys and I was rehearsing etc etc so we basically went from being together all the time to barely seeing each other and, unbeknownst to me, I'd been feeling a bit lonely. The worst thing about it is, I was probably the busier of us, so it was down to me that I was feeling this way. Anyway, now that I've figured it out I can see how silly I was being, but also, I can make a conscious effort to appreciate the time we do spend together because we're both working and both have busy lives and I can't expect to spend every waking moment with him, nor do I.

Yesterday I had a big work night out planned and, as I was feeling low, I decided that drinking wouldn't be an ideal situation however over the course of the day I had so many confidence boosts that I was pushing a 9.5 out of 10. It felt like everything about Friday was designed to make me feel amazing - almost entirely by chance about 3 or 4 colleagues went out of their way to thank me for something I hadn't even thought about during the day. Both of the people I thought I'd upset told me not to be so silly, my colleague who I thought was angry actually said "you know I can't be mad at you" and gave me a massive hug so I relaxed and had an amazing night out where, once again, I was given even more positive thoughts from people to thank me for organising a night out as well as for other random, little things I'd done, that had apparently made a big difference to people. I admit I had a few more drinks than I planned, but apart from becoming a mother hen about checking everyone got home safely, nothing untoward happened and I didn't find myself sobbing in the toilet. The boyfriend came and joined us and everyone had a fantastic night - I couldn't have thought of a better way to improve my self confidence! That said, usually if I drink when I'm struggling, the opposite occurs and, as I mentioned in the previous post, I suffer guilt and paranoia, so I wouldn't recommend to anyone that going out for drinks when you're on a low is a good idea!!

This morning I'm feeling so much more level. I think, in conclusion, I'm already feeling much better, but I need to remember I'm not out of the woods yet. Mind you, tomorrow I have a meeting again with the elderly gentleman I upset so lets hope that goes ok....but at least it's followed by a rehearsal and then the awards evening for the drama awards, so I can find out if I'm merely a nominated actress or an award winning actress!

Thank you for all of your support and well wishes, the smallest things make the biggest difference to someone who is struggling to cope and it's important that we remember this. I wouldn't have made it through this week without all the support and lovely comments from my friends so I hope you realise that you made a difference to my life.

It's not always sunshine and roses.....

This is the first time I'm writing this blog in the midst of a low so please bear with me. In the interest of honesty I plan to tell you exactly how I feel, even though it may sound pathetic and self pitying to many of you.

I've been struggling to keep my head above the water since coming back from holiday; for some reason I've been finding it harder than usual to keep on tops of things. I honestly couldn't tell you why, but I've found myself staying in work till much later than usual on several occasions, which I've never had to do before.

In the last week or so I've gotten myself in a mess - I've said and done things I wish I could take back and right now I'd say, out of ten, my current self worth is around about 2 or 3. At this exact moment in time I feel as thought everybody probably thinks I'm selfish and rude, thoughtless and useless and I also feel they'd be perfectly justified in thinking so. There is a part of me fighting hard to overrule these feelings, but in all honesty, the negative is winning.

So lets explain where this is all coming from - it starts last Friday, when I went to a quiz night with my friends. I pretty much knew everyone there and it should have been a fun night, but instead I decided to get very, very drunk - much more so than anyone else. I also got very obnoxious and loud. When I got home, I fell asleep, but woke up in the night utterly convinced my boyfriend would hate me for being so drunk, my friends wouldn't ever want to speak to me again and that I'd ruined everything. The following day, my boyfriend had a giggle at my paranoia and I got on with things as usual, but on Sunday I managed to completely forget that I'd arranged to visit an elderly friend. By the time I remembered it was 10pm and I didn't want to call and disturb him, then on Monday I had an incredibly busy working day and so by the time I rang it was Tuesday and, although I apologised, I could hear both anger and disappointment in his voice, which left me feeling pretty crappy. Finally, on Tuesday night I happened to observe what I considered to be a funny moment after one too many drinks and, this morning, thoughtlessly decided to tell everyone about it. In my head it was just a funny story, but the people involved didn't want anyone to know about it. I just didn't think and caused a huge explosion of gossip that potentially hurt people. The worst thing was one of my friends telling me off and being angry at me, I just felt so crap. I actually feel like I lack the part that, for everyone else, tells them when something is inappropriate to say - I feel like I can't stop myself talking and it's only when people react that I realise that I shouldn't have said what I did.

So there you have it- this week, all I've done is upset people and let people down and offended people and been thoughtless and selfish.

When I look at things more deeply it makes me realise that I am overwhelmed by guilt and it's more than just the things that have happened this week. You see, I feel as though I'm not doing enough for my dad and that I'm letting him down. I feel like I ought to be visiting every month and calling every day, but I've not visited since mid August and I've not been able to get hold of him on the phone since then either so all I've managed is to text and speak to people around him. I know I can't continue to look after him because I can't cope when I try, but at the same time, not looking after him is making me feel so guilty. I want to call him, but then I get scared about what he might say, or I worry that he might shout at me or tell me I'm not doing enough. I know I need to try harder to call him, but I just can't face it.

I'm also feeling pretty crappy because I keep losing my voice - it's been husky since May and I finally went to the doctors to be referred to the ENT - for those of you who know me, you'll appreciate how unpleasant it is for me to be completely unable to sing. It makes me feel quite trapped because I can't say and do what I want, they way I want. 

Part of me wonders if I ought to start taking anti depressants again because I am feeling an awful lot like I am not a good enough person to deserve to be happy, but I don't want to have to go through withdrawal again. I don't really know what to do, I'm feeling paranoid - today I started to think that everyone was pissed off with me for causing gossip and I was scared to go into the staffroom in case someone got angry with me and I'm pretty certain it was entirely in my head. I just want to curl up in a ball and not leave the house, but I know I have to go to rehearsal soon and then tomorrow be enthusiastic throughout my lessons.

I wish I could be more positive and optimistic, and I hope that this feeling is only temporary, but it has definitely been building for 3 weeks and it finally overwhelmed me today - I spent my drive home quietly sobbing, entirely out of self pity, which made me feel even more guilty and more upset because I do feel as though I deserve to be hated and that I am horrible, horrible person, even though I didn't mean to upset anyone. It's not a great feeling and I definitely don't want to let this overwhelm me.

Let me end on a different subject. I was talking to someone this week about the girl with BPD who tried to take my work to court and the person I was with decided that the most important piece of information was that the girl in question was depressed. The tone of her voice suggested that being depressed was just about the worst thing someone could be and that of course she'd cause trouble with a mental illness. Without thinking I responded with "I suffer from depression too" and tried to explain that the issue wasn't depression, it was her refusal to accept a diagnoses of BPD and seek treatment, however I was interrupted by the statement "but she's mental and your normal so it's ok". As you can imagine, this was not the best thing to say to me, but I decided to let it slide because they'd had one too many glasses of wine however it reminded me again of how important it is to raise the awareness of mental illness, because it's just unacceptable to me that someone would think that being depressed makes you a bad person, or in fact suffering from any mental illness - the mental illness isn't a problem, it's how you deal with it.

Anyway, I hope I can write a more positive post soon

x

Touching Me....Touching You

When I was younger, my mum and dad used to always refer to me as 'the cuddley one' - they weren't referring to the fact that I had issues with a bit of puppy fat however. Supposedly, of the three of us, I was the one that always wanted to be in physical contact with my parents. As a youngster it was generally my mum, and I have been told that as a toddler I would throw tantrums if I couldn't get close enough to touch her (this seems weird to me now since my mum and I don't really get on and I can happily avoid seeing her for months at a time if at all possible).

It struck me this week that I am still a very tactile person and have a need to be in physical contact with people - my boyfriend often moans at me for being too public with my affection (in a light hearted way of course), but I honestly think that if I had more people I could feel safe being able to touch, I'd always be cuddling people. The problem I have is that the introvert in me doesn't feel at all comfortable hugging or touching people unless I am comfortable with them so I have this strange juxtaposition of a need to touch and a fear of touching.

Now, as I'm sure you all know, once anyone has had a few drinks, their inhibitions will drop and I guess I should consider myself lucky that no one has got angry or tried to take advantage as I do tend to become very touchy feely once I've had a few drinks, but it saddens me that for many people, men in particular, if a woman makes physical contact, they automatically assume that something more intimate will follow. I have a good, male friend who is also fairly tactile so at least I have a go-to safe person, but in all honesty I love a good cuddle, but I love my boyfriend and would never, ever cheat on him or do anything to hurt him because he is just so amazing.

Going back to a time before I met my lovely other half, I think a lot of the behaviour which I regret from my early twenties stems from a desire to have that physical contact I crave.

Something else just occurred to me - whenever I go out with my work friends, I always try to get my boyfriend to join us later in the night and he's generally too busy or has other plans and it's only just come to me why I like him to come out and that's because when he's there, I have someone to cuddle that isn't going to find me weird or isn't going to expect something I'm unwilling to give. Isn't that strange?

Anyway, it's hard work being a tactile introvert as you're left with two conflicting behaviour patterns, but at least having a boyfriend who understands me, I get the best of both worlds!

work....work....work

I've talked a lot about the negative sides of my life so I thought it was important to look at something positive. I must be in a small minority when I say this, but I can say with absolute honesty....I love my job! Although I love the summer holidays, I've been excited for the last week about going back - indeed I was in school for 3 days that I wasn't meant to be just to get started for the new year.

Now, that's not to say I don't get frustrated with work sometimes - as with any job, sometimes things don't run smoothly and you do get stressed and fed up, but overall, I wake up in the morning with a spring in my step, eager to get going.

So, my question is, why do people settle with jobs they don't like? I realise there is a lot of pressure to earn the right income and have the right lifestyle, but I'd rather forgo the large income if it left me feeling utterly despondent every working day of my life. Certainly for the last 18 months I've managed to get by saving £350 a month, and that was before I moved in with my partner.

Let's go back to my job - I'm a school teacher, which is a stressful job. Some people would be concerned that a person who suffers, as I do, with depression would not be able to cope in such a high maintenance environment, but for me, teaching is one of the great things that keeps the serotonin buzzing. I love the feeling that I have made a difference to someone's life and when you're teaching you can get that feeling every single day, as long as you approach the profession with the right attitude - no matter how down or depressed I'm feeling I make sure every lesson I teach is 'fun'. I've put fun in inverted commas, because I don't mean that every lesson is hands on, dirty, extravagant and crazy, but rather I try to promote an interest in the subject being taught whether it be turning fractions into decimals or queen Victoria's love for her husband - if you can pass on some of your own enthusiasm to the children then the learning follows naturally. It always amazes me when education ministers and so called 'experts' try to tell us that if all teachers follow their specific plans and rules then the children are bound to learn and yet no one up there ever seems to realise that it's not what you teach, it's how you teach it - if you are enthusiastic about teaching, your class will be enthusiastic about learning regardless of the topic. One of the things I often find is that a lot of children, and their parents, have a fear of maths that has come from that one teacher who didn't particularly like teaching maths and so made the whole lesson a labour when children move schools to us from somewhere else, so many of them almost feel like 'damaged goods' when it comes to maths; I see my role as, not to teach them, but to get them to enjoy the subject again - learning cannot occur if pupils aren't motivated to learn.

I sometimes feel like my most over used phrase in this blog is "I am lucky because...." but I want to use it again - I am lucky because our Senior Leadership Team are happy as long as the children are happy and successful learners. This allows us some freedom to approach teaching in more interesting ways - I have spent many a lovely afternoon with a class discussing a breaking news story or openly talking about their fears and dreams. We feel comfortable getting to know our children rather than worrying about getting the right results that make the school look good and, while the government made it a teaching cliche, we genuinely feel that every child matters, regardless of their age or ability. That's not to say all schools are like this and once again I do feel lucky to have a found a school that reflects my personal ethos and where I feel comfortable being myself- I am supported and all of the staff are amazing, I feel completely comfortable at work.

So anyway, while many people complain and grumble about their job, mine is both exhausting and exhilarating. People outside of education often mock us for our long holidays, but it's true to say that at the end of a 6 week half term, you need a break and at the end of a full term you could easily sleep for a week. When my non teaching friends get a week of work they don't seem to have the same 5 days of death, exhaustion and recovery that accompanies all teachers on their holidays.

There is one negative thing I can say about my job..... I don't think I could ever become part of the senior team because it means cutting back, or even stopping, actually teaching. I love being in the classroom and I feel like it's something I'm good at so I wouldn't want to give that up to feel as though my career is progressing. I recently chatted to an old Uni friend of mine, who is already a deputy head, but he was saying that he rarely spends time in front of a class and most of his time is spent worrying about being able to afford things and managing people, not to mention the mountains of paperwork. The negative side of teaching is that in order to 'progress' you have to stop doing what you're good at and so many of the best teachers don't spend enough time in a classroom. About ten years ago the Government at the time realised this and introduced a scheme called Advanced Skills Teachers, which had the goal of trying to keep the best teachers in the classroom, while allowing them to move up the payscale, but this was rapidly phased out when the next government took over. The newest scheme is that wages will be based on performance - in the past, after 7 years of teaching you could apply to go through threshold and leap up to a new payscale, but that has been scrapped as of this academic year....which is when I would have been eligible to apply (of course). So now the system is performance based, which on paper would be a good thing, but the cynic in me is well aware that most schools are desperately looking for ways to cut costs and being given the option to NOT increase wages must seem like a godsend! I know my employer won't use this as an excuse to keep wages lower, but it saddens me that many teachers may lose out; I guess if you look at the flip side of this, maybe many teachers were going through threshold that didn't deserve the pay hike and this may help resolve that.....who knows?

I'll leave you with one final note about working with children: children love their teachers unconditionally, they enter each day with adoration in their eyes, they hang off your every word. This can be an enormous boost to your self confidence, as long as you remember that the second the school year is over and they move on to a new teacher, you are merely a person from their past.

I love my job!

Overcoming the fear

Sometimes I find it really difficult to leave the house. Even when I'm meeting my friends for a lovely lunch, I tend to arrive late for fear of them not really being there and it all being in my head or something. I mean, I KNOW that they will be there, but something holds me back and I leave just a little bit later than I ought to so that I know I won't be sat on my own like an idiot. It's strange, because I know when I was younger I was always early for everything - maybe that's where it stems from - a childhood and teenage years sat around waiting for other people being late. It must really annoy my friends, it annoys me because actually I want to be early, or at the very least, on time, but I can't seem to make myself leave. It doesn't help that my other half is perpetually late for everything and therefore encourages me to be even later. The thing is, when he is with me, I'm perfectly capable of leaving on time because I have the reassurance of another body, someone to look after me (yes I am lame enough to admit that having boyfriend handy does make me feel safe and secure) so I want to leave and get there on time/early, but then he drags his heels and makes me late. This means that people believe that I am always late for things......

You may also have noticed that I don't answer my phone....my ex flatmate once rang me in a panic because I'd called him about something and he thought it must be an emergency because I'd actually rang him (I was a bit worried that someone might have passed out in the shower because it kept turning itself on and off - turned out someone had left the shower on and gone out). I can think of two people I will ring and feel comfortable about it - my boyfriend and my sister. It's funny that my sister should be on the list since for the first 28 years of my life we didn't really get on at all and it's only in the last two years that we've become close enough to have a phone chat maybe once a week. I'd say this relationship has developed from a combination of dealing with our dad and my complete and utter adoration of my nieces, but at least we now talk. If anyone else calls me, there is a high chance I will see/hear the phone ring and will not answer. I'm not sure why this would be, I just don't feel comfortable talking on the phone. I'm quite happy to have a text conversation, but I don't like talking. Maybe it's because, if I'm talking to someone, I like to see their facial expressions, but I don't really know. The worst situation for me is calling a complete stranger, for example a bank or to order food - in this, internet ordering has saved my life. I will almost always pass the buck and get someone else to make the phone call if it is required. I mean, it's also true that I have a tendency to leave my phone in another room and not hear it ring, but sometimes I just don't feel 'safe' enough to talk. Please don't be insulted if this is the case, I promise it is not just you that I avoid talking to.

I don't know whether these things are a symptom of depression, a sign that I might also suffer anxiety or simply an indicator that I'm an introvert and like to keep to myself, but it's one of those things that goes through my weird and wonderful mind that I wanted to share with you all.

Life is a Rollercoaster....?

So the brain buzzes are starting to become less of an issue, and I feel less like I'm constantly suffering from head rushes, and so I wanted to talk about another couple of things that link to depression.

Firstly, if you've ever known anyone with any mental illness, you will understand what I mean by life is a rollercoaster for us. Some days I feel totally fine (like today), then the next day, for no real reason, all of those anxieties and fears creep back in and I doubt myself and doubt myself work. Sometimes the trigger is the smallest thing, like someone forgetting to include you in an email, or that niggling feeling that someone is avoiding catching your eye (when actually they're not at all) and sometimes there is no trigger, which makes you feel as though you are broken and useless - why else would you feel so sad and overwhelmed when there is no reason for it? Then the next day you could feel worse, you could feel better and it's all so bloody frustrating. To make matters worse, when the depression is kicking, I find that I can't distinguish between situations that are really rubbish and situations that only seem rubbish because I'm feeling down.

I've often described being depressed as feeling as though everything is swirly, like you're looking on the world through some weird glasses that make everything feel a little bit distant and a little bit unreal and this includes emotions so being depressed is something of a Catch 22 because once you start to feel down, things are more likely to make you feel down and you get pulled further and further into the swirly reality that makes everything seem so confused and 'wrong'. I guess this is where I'm coming from with my continued insistence that a depressed person doesn't need to be treated as though they are fragile, but rather that they have some worth. BUT the truly terrible thing is that *sometimes* even if you try to help a depressed person that they are great, that bit in the back of their brain will be telling them "they're just patronising you, they don't really mean it, they're just saying it". It's not that I don't trust your opinion, it's that the praise has to actually mean something; it as to be for something and not just praise for the sake of praise.

Dear God, I'm demanding aren't I? My brain doesn't work properly so I want you to work hard to convince me that I am useful to you!!!

Moving on.....I am a member of Mensa, maybe I'm a little bit too proud of this, but in some ways, to me, it's something that my depression can't take away from, something I can always be proud of even in my deepest despair. You see, being smart is something I've always been. I completely and utterly lack common sense, but I can solve complex problems....it's like a giant scale where someone has said "you there, you shall be smart, but to balance this we will make you useless at walking down the street without bumping into things". There has been a debate raging for quite some time on one of the Mensa forums (on LinkedIn), asking whether people felt that being hyper intelligent can make you prone to depression. I often find that I feel as though I'm thinking too hard about situations, I feel that compared to other people I am constantly overthinking, but my question is, is this because I'm smart, or is this because I am depressive and therefore my brain works differently? At the risk of seeming arrogant, I do tend to see the big picture much more clearly than other people and I sometimes find it hard to comprehend that other people can't just make the links that I do, and sometimes I am convinced I make links that aren't there, particularly when I'm already spiralling down. My boyfriend finds it fascinating that I often know ahead of times about something that is meant to be a secret because my brain has already worked it out and made the connections, but I don't always get it right. So is it a blessing or is it a curse? Am I depressed BECAUSE of this clarity or are the two things completely separate? Is this the clarity all in my head and a symptom of the depression?

As I type this, I find myself thinking that everyone who reads it will probably think less of me, but I want to make sure that people understand some of what goes through my mind, which will, perhaps, help them to understand a friend or a loved one who may be going through something similar. The negative side of me worries constantly that everything I type in this blog will make people dislike me despite knowing that my friends are my friends for a reason, but in particular when I write something like this, something that could make me look arrogant or abrasive or just a bit of a dick.

Making it all go away

Ok, I admit it, I'm a people watcher. When I'm out and about I like to watch people and admire their idiosyncrasies. When I'm shopping I look at the purchases of other customers and try to figure out what type of person they are, or what they might be cooking that night. On the bus I find myself listening to conversations and half wanting to join in..... I realise I'm not alone in this, in fact, I suspect most people do it so I was thinking about this as I wandered around Waitrose yesterday afternoon and couldn't help but wonder what the people there were noticing about me.

This isn't a symptom of depression by the way, but for the last two days I have been struggling with the withdrawal effects of the anti depressants so I felt it was time to write a post about this aspect of my illness as I'm sure the people in Waitrose must have been wondering what on earth was wrong with me.

About 6 weeks ago I ran out of medication, I dutifully emailed my doctors surgery to order some more, but just didn't get round to collecting them. I thought nothing of it until about a week later when all of a sudden I was overwhelmed with a wave of dizziness while out walking with my boyfriend. I have always thought withdrawal, like jet lag, was merely a thing people complained about, that wasn't really a big deal. Turns out I was wrong; I have never felt anything like the dizziness and I had to sit very still for several hours because every time I moved my head spun. The next morning I apologised to work for being late and went via the doctors to get more medicine and did some research into coming off this medication carefully.

Escitalopram, the drug I'm on, isn't listed as having massive side affects, however if you search on Google for escitalporam withdrawal you will find a whole host of people who disagree with this - the first thing people complained of was overwhelming dizziness followed by 'shocks' through their whole body. The people on one of the sites I looked at suggested the best way to come off was to lower your dose each day, changing the dose each week - rather than, say, take a pill one day and skip the next, take half a pill every day. Over the last month or so I took half a pill for two weeks then a third of a pill for a week, then I stopped taking the medication all together. The last pill was ten days ago and for the last 5 days I've been suffering from withdrawal to the extreme, but I am determined to get myself off the medicine, as I feel I don't need it anymore. Two days ago I finally had one of the shocks that other people had described and yesterday I had a number of them - when I read about them I had assumed that it would feel like an electric shock running through your system, but what I actually felt was more like a dizzy buzz throughout my system, emanating from my brain - like dizziness multiplied by ten. In fact, after my shopping trip I had to just sit in my car for a bit before I felt safe to drive home and even then I had to go upstairs and sit down for quite a while. I ate a banana when I walked through the door and that seemed to help too.

The other thing I'm finding about the withdrawal is that I can't concentrate on a conversation for a decent amount of time and I have to keep apologising as I zone in and out - particularly bad when I'm more dizzy and suffering shocks. The dizziness and shocks are also accompanied by a feeling of overwhelming sadness, which fortunately passes quite quickly.

My understanding is that these feelings won't last for too long and if I wanted a quick fix I could quite simply just take another pill but I'd like to use the time I've got off work to get myself sorted and drug free. This is a word of warning for those of you who know me however, please bear with me if I appear to not be focusing on our conversation - I'll get there in the end!!

Totally Alone

I want to start with a thank you for all of the support and lovely messages I have received this weekend - quite alone from the cathartic affect of getting things off my chest, it has been a real positive boost, however, the really special thing for me have been those people who have sent me a private message to let me know that they too have been suffering from depression and my being open and honest has helped them to cope. This has made me feel like I have made the right decision.

I want to talk about two things now - one of the things that led to my becoming more open about my illness and secondly, what I feel to be one of the most difficult, but common symptoms that I struggle with.

I'll start with something that happened a couple of years ago in my work place - I won't go into too much detail, but merely summarise the bits that affected me: a colleague of mine, who I was friends with, made a number of accusations towards my work place, one of which was that they were not supportive of people with mental illness. As you may have read in my previous post, I feel I am incredibly fortunate with the high level of support I have received from both my employer and my colleagues so this accusation made me a little bit angry. The upshot of the case was that one medical professional felt that this colleague was suffering from borderline personality disorder, but she refuted this and felt that all of her claims were true and that she was suffering from depression and was not supported. Earlier this year it was hauled before a tribunal where I found myself standing up in front of some of my colleagues, my employer and 3 judges to talk about my mental illness. What saddens me is that it is very probable that the colleague making accusations does suffer from BPD, and with treatment she could have moved on and dealt with things, but she obviously didn't want to accept the stigma that comes from having a serious mental problem. Her refusal to accept this diagnosis, however, caused so much stress and anxiety to the people around her, as well as costing both my employer and her parents a significant amount of money. The case led me to realise two things: firstly, I need to be more open about my own issues, and secondly, people need to understand mental illness better. It's still taken me 6 months to build up the courage to talk about it myself, but if more people can understand mental illness then maybe they can help themselves and each other more effectively.

Ok, so moving on from that, I want to talk about the title of this post. There is a song by The Offspring which contains the lyric "have you ever walked through a room, but it was more like the room passed around you". When I first heard this, I was about 15, but I immediately felt like I knew what they were talking about. That feeling of being surrounded by people, but that you are not connecting or communicating with them in any way. I get that feeling a lot.....for a number of years I secretly avoided going in the staff room at work because I just became overwhelmed by all the conversations going on around me - it felt like everyone was talking, but I was in no way able to join in any conversation. I feel like an outsider, separate from the group. This may surprise many of you who would see me as someone who is always comfortable and confident in a crowd, but those of you who know me well won't be surprised to learn that it is all a cover - the louder I am, the more terrified and lonely I am. If I don't know people I will desperately try to feel like I belong by forcing myself into conversations, often appearing rude or pushy, but it is all a coping strategy because deep down inside I feel like I'm not good enough to be part of this group. Even now, in work, while I try to go into the staff room as often as possible, I often feel separate and as though I'm watching everyone else as an outsider. I'd like to be clear that this is no reflection on my colleagues, who are the most wonderful, kind and inclusive bunch of people you could ever work with! They're certainly not leaving me out, in fact, I suspect it is I who withdraws from the conversation or lacks the ability to join in unless specifically invited, but it remains the case that in daily life I often feel like I am totally alone even when surrounded by people who I care about and who I know care about me. It is a strange feeling, which I know is common among we depressives as it is one that is often expressed to me by people I have talked to who suffer from depression themselves. To someone who doesn't suffer from depression, it must be a completely alien concept as, even writing it down, it seems strange to say. To people who do have this illness, I want you to know something which has taken me a while to understand......it's your illness talking, you are not an outsider and people do care. Maybe some groups of people do unconsciously make you feel like an outsider, but if that is the case then you need to find the group of people that don't make you feel that way. People do care, they just don't always know how to show it.

I do want to mention something else, however, that occurred after the court case - my colleagues, as a whole, were very supportive, one friend in particular, though, suddenly started treating me as though I was some sort of fragile being that needed special care, which put a strain on our friendship and I have had to work hard to help him realise that I don't need that. A depressed person doesn't need special treatment, we need to be treated like we're human beings, although emphasis on the positive aspects of our lives doesn't hurt ;)

Anyway, thank you again

x

My 'coming out'

People have often said to me over the last ten years that my life sounds like a soap opera....that if it were a story in Eastenders, people wouldn't find it believable....because of this I have decided to start blogging some of the more random things that happen to me as well as to document some of the more pertinent features of my life....

But before I start there is something important I want to share with everyone, something that I need to get out there in the world. That's right I'm coming out...

Ok, I got you all there - I'm sure you all thought "but you've had a boyfriend for the last three years". I'm not talking about announcing I'm gay; indeed in today's world there is less social stigma around being gay then there is about my issue. That's right, I want the world to know that I suffer from depression, regularly, and I'm not just talking about feeling a little bit down every now and again. I mean, full blown, suicidal thoughts and drugged up to the nines....Now the reason I'm announcing this for all the world to know is that I am fed up with all the stigma surrounding this illness - it's not a sign of being weak, it's not something that only weirdos suffer, it's very simple, my body can't produce serotonin properly so when a 'normal' person gets sad, their body compensates and gives them serotonin to make them feel better, mine can't so I need to take drugs to help it. That I am able to identify when I am struggling to cope and seek help, either medically, through diet or through forcing my friends to help give myself a boost would seem to me to be a strength and not a weakness, but there we go.

Let's go back to the beginning - I was first diagnosed after my first year of university - I wasn't myself from early on-used to being the big fish in a small pond, I couldn't cope with the chaos of the city. That's not to say I didn't love the city, it was just a bit of a shock to me. Add to that a boyfriend in Cambridge who wasn't happy, a mum who blamed me for imagined financial issues and you can understand why I was feeling under pressure. I also had a couple of old friends at Uni with me, but I was struggling to make close female friends of my own, and although I had plenty of male friends (always been the case), quite often they were hoping for a bit more than friends and I was attached. When my boyfriend and I finally broke up and I returned home for the summer, I guess it was the final straw to find that my bedroom had been turned into a dumping ground for all the crap my parents didn't want anymore. I had my first (of many), flip outs - this is something that I'm certain is not unique to me, but when it all gets too much I lose all control of reason and I get incredibly angry, then can't stop crying - I feel as though everyone is out to get me and I tend to find myself crying in a corner somewhere with no real understanding of why I had previously felt so angry and feeling a little embarrassed at the way I had treated people. I can think of at least 5 times I have done this over the last ten years - twice I ended up medicated after, twice I was lucky that the people with me understood and forgave me and once I ended up losing friends because, after all, who wants to be friends with an irrational bitch? It has only been in the last 4 years that I have come to recognise these flip outs as a sign of depression returning and so I can cope with it and deal with it.

I just want to be clear - I'm not making excuses for my behaviour here - I have been a grade A bitch when I've been struggling to cope, I'm just hoping that by writing this down, maybe someone out there will recognise these symptoms in themselves and be able to get help before they destroy friendships or before things get so bad that they think about self harm or, even worse, suicide.

Thankfully, I have only ever once been suicidally depressed - I have often had that feeling of "the world would be a better place if I weren't in it", but I have only once seriously considered doing something about it and that was the very first time I was depressed. I'd like to think that now I am strong enough to recognise when I am not well and do something about it instead of spiralling down and getting worse - I should be clear now, it was about 6 months after I first felt bad that I finally felt suicidal so if I'd only known what was wrong, maybe I'd never have had that experience in the first place.

I consider myself to be lucky - I have amazing friends and colleagues who support me - my employer knows about my history, even offered me some time off when I went back on anti depressants earlier this year, but more importantly, I am lucky because I don't feel embarrassed to admit that I have a mental illness that will probably continue to affect me my whole life. Statistically speaking, women are much more likely to be depressed than men and if you have suffered depression more than once, you are much more likely to keep suffering it throughout your life. This makes sense to me since a one off depression is caused by a lack of serotonin, whereas regular depressions suggest that your body struggles to produce it. To me, I don't have a mental illness, I have illness caused by a deficiency in my body - if you want to look down on me as weak for this, that's your prerogative, but I can't consider it to be a weakness.

Now, most of my depressions over the last eleven years have been minor - I've found myself crying at things that just aren't that sad (adverts, books, soap operas) and I'd consider that a warning and tell someone or it'd just pass by itself and I'd feel better after a few weeks, but the most recent one has put me back on the medication again for the first time since I was a teenager so I think it's important to outline how I felt:

My dad has been seriously ill for the last 2 and a half years, he was diagnosed with a brain tumour and the hospital decided to take a biopsy. There was a problem with the biopsy which led to a bleed in his brain and it is my opinion that the hospital didn't treat this properly. The bleed left my father with no balance, no proper control of the right side of his body and a difficulty in speaking. He went from being the most fit and active 62 year old imaginable (surfing and 90 minutes of football a week), to being completely unable to do anything himself. Over the past two years he has learnt some independence so he can feed himself if the food is cut up, he can transfer himself from an armchair to wheelchair and his speech is at least understandable. That said, he has struggled emotionally and is often like a tantrum-y child. And guess who gets a lot of the tantrums......? You hear a lot about people who gracefully deal with illnesses and being suddenly wheelchair bound - that is not my dad. He is rude, aggressive and sometimes, downright irrational. I found myself driving for between 5 and 6 hours each way, once a month, to help him out and it was exhausting me. Dad agreed to go into a home for a month to give us a break and after less than 24 hours he was ringing me to rant about how awful it was - unfortunately this coincided with my school being inspected and I just couldn't cope. This time I didn't recognise the symptoms, but my boyfriend did - we went to visit dad and he took me to one side and said he was worried - I was getting angry at things my dad was saying that didn't usually bother me, everything was upsetting me and I was a mess. As soon as he pointed this out to me I realised he was right, and I needed help. I went to see my GP, who was very understanding and offered me medication to deal with it - in this situation it was the right decision because I couldn't cope and I wasn't functioning in any way that I could begin to feel better. The doctor helped me to realise that I shouldn't feel guilty about not always being able to help my dad and nor should I feel guilty about wanting a break- I've now had to declare that I'm only visiting once every 2 months so that I can have some time to recover and get on with my life.

I'm in a situation whereby I can see that my life is 90% perfect, apart from my dad; I have a lot to be happy about so, naturally, I have decided to come off the medicine. Unfortunately I have discovered the fun side affects of withdrawal, which may make me think twice about taking medication again (feeling so dizzy and unable to concentrate that I break off mid sentence during a conversation as well as feeling drowsy and headachey), but I think if I was feeling as bad as I did a few months ago I probably would consider taking them because it has made a difference and did help me to cope when things were bad.

I'll finish writing now so I can drive back home, but I just want to make sure that everyone who might read this understands that depression isn't a weakness and to understand how important it is to not treat people differently because they suffer from it - 99% of the time you won't know when I'm in the depth of a depression because I'm still me and the easiest way to help me is not to treat me like I'm fragile or in need of care, but to understand that I don't have enough serotonin so I need a boost - whether that be some positive news, a fun day out, some serotonin boosting foods or, occasionally, some medication to help my body compensate. I'm not weak, pathetic or someone to avoid, I'm someone with an illness who is doing their best to fight it and to get by.

Thank you and I hope that no one thinks badly of me for being so honest.