Cat

There were very serious points of this past year I didn’t think I’d make it to 22. Getting through each day is still a ‘pat on the back’ moment to me and I am proud of myself and the recovery I have so far made.

P.S my mum is fucking amazing and JESUS CHRIST am I lucky to have her. 

I am that pathetic that a few weeks ago my ex-boyfriend of nearly five years came over and stayed with me. He didn’t have to, but he did. Nothing happened because it never will.  But he just lay there with me and played with my hair until I fell asleep.  People often question how we can be so close after everything, but we just can.  He understands me and I understand him.  There’s no real physical or sexual attraction between us anymore, it’s just an awful lot of love and respect.  He honestly is a wonderful person and I’m so lucky I still get to spend time with the side of him that pretty much no one else does.   

I’m 21, which means I’m technically an adult yet I have never felt more pathetic, childish and needy in my entire life.  I woke up this morning with that feeling of dread looming in my brain again and I knew the black cloud was on its way.  Instead of seeing it out in my flat in Nottingham, I got myself so worked up, ended up bailing on plans I had for the evening and drove home as quickly as I could.  There was no trigger for this change in my brain, it just comes when it chooses and that’s the part that scares me the most.  It’s quite sad that I spent the last few days of my ‘happy self’ having temporary episodes of anxiety,  wondering when my next low would make an appearance. 

I just want my life back.  ‘Time-Hop’ is a real killer for me, which is why I don’t often check it. A couple of days ago however, temptation got the better of me and I checked it.  Four years ago that day, I received flowers from my wonderful boyfriend of the time.  A year ago that day I met my most recent ex-boyfriend’s family.  It just reminded me how lost and lonely I actually feel. 

A couple of months ago I endured possibly the most horrific experience of my life.  I don’t remember much of it, but I hazily remember shutting my eyes for what I thought, would be the last time.  It’s weird to say (or type, ha), but I genuinely know what dying feels like.  Or so I thought… 

I should have died that night. Every Doctor/Consultant that has dealt with me reminds me how lucky I am to be alive.  I see the shock in their eyes as they go over my notes, and realise I’m still there in front of them: quite healthy, breathing, and ‘seemingly’ normal.  You’d think that would be some sort of motivation to keep going, knowing that I’ve been given a ‘second chance’ if you like, but it’s not that simple.  Sometimes it is, don’t get me wrong, but when I’m enduring the ‘black dog’ as some like to call it, I feel quite differently about it all.  I wish I’d never woken up, and I know that is a really awful thing to say, but that is the genuine truth. 

The days that followed that evening were possibly even more unpleasant than said event itself. I was a living pin cushion, hooked up to cannulas and drips on both arms,  and not only was I mentally poorly at this point, I was also very physically poorly too.  

I’d accidentally lost a lot of weight leading up to this. I’ve always been fairly slim and my weight has always fluctuated.  But this time I’d shed pounds quicker than any miracle diet story that I’ve read.  And quicker than I ever have before.  The thing is, I truly didn’t have the weight to lose.

I didn’t even notice I wasn’t eating because there was so much more going on in my head I didn’t really have the time to look after myself physically.  I got weighed in at the hospital at 39kg. This is just over six stone, and very very small.  It baffles me that at times I’ve dreamt of being so tiny because I didn’t look good at all.  When I finally got discharged I remember standing over the bath in a towel and I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror beside me.  I stood there for a good ten minutes just astonished at how I looked.  I didn’t look petite, ethereal or anything like the image I’ve flirted with in the past.  I looked emaciated, fragile and unquestionably sick.  This is a memory that will always stay with me because it’s one of the moments I just thought to myself: ‘Shit. how has this happened, what the hell have I done’. 

I’ve since worked really hard on increasing my weight but it hasn’t been easy. I know it sounds ridiculous.  Some people would call that ideal, being able to eat whatever the hell I want.  But due to simply having no appetite still and then having to take copious amounts of drugs that initially make you feel more nauseous than to begin with, it made it a difficult goal to achieve. 

I have now put on a bit of weight and I have since felt happy. I’ve even had moments of extreme happiness and joy, which is shocking to me as I’d convinced myself I never would again.  If I’m perfectly honest, my happy days have started to outweigh my unhappy ones.  But it still comes back at times, and right now is one of those times.  

This is why I ran home like a scared little girl. I cannot express how much I HATE this version of myself.  I hate feeling weak.  I hate feeling emotionally drained.  I hate feeling anxious.  I hate feeling like the one bringing down the mood in the room.  I hate feeling like I’m whining.  I just hate feeling sad.  

I do know I’m not alone in this. Statistics say that one in three people will suffer from depression at some point in their life.  Personally, I believe that stat is actually much higher.  But I also know I’m not alone in feeling alone, when living with this awful misery in my head. 

I will definitely be spending this weekend surrounded by people that love me.  Hopefully this time it won’t take too long to pass.  I once read a metaphor that was quite simple but very accurate:  

“Depression is also…

Smaller than you. Always, it is smaller than you, even when it feels vast.  It operates within you, you do not operate within it.  It may be a dark cloud passing across the sky, but - if that is the metaphor, you are the sky.  You were there before it. And the cloud can’t exist without the sky. But the sky can exist without the cloud.’’

- Matt Haig.  

I can’t think of many better ways to sum it up than that.