i love my mum.
the below post does not mean I am sitting here like a wreck.
Thank you peoples for the replies to my below blog, both the comments on here and the emails. Really appreciated alot.
I just want to say to no one in particular that even though I am now choosing to write about this, it does not mean I am sat here like a wreck. Not right now anyway ; )
Life gets tough. It is tough. But I am a fighter. Some days I dont fight the fight quite as well as others, but you know, when I came to a turning point in my life, at 16, just as I left school with not many qualifications, I made a decision. To work hard, to work really hard. And that is what I have done, I have worked hard, to do the things I have wanted to do, and to get to where I am. To get qualifications and on the whole be proud of some of the things I have achieved.
Yes, depression can rule peoples lives, and sometimes it does seem to get on top of me, and take over, but I have spent my life time, or as long as I can remember not wanting this to define me.
Not allowing it to define who I am. If that makes sense.
I am still a person.
And, even with depression I am a person who can have fun, who can enjoy, who can work a job
I am still a person who can have wonderful days like today, shopping, eating, having face masks and chilling.
so, you can say what you like, but it isnt going to stop me saying what I like now.
A bit of a weird one liner start for this post I guess, but it might become more clear as I ramble on through this post.
I started blog life, nearly two years, starting off with another blog, and then coming on to wibsite almost a year ago.
Jan 06 I think I came over here. Ands it cool. Thank you for letting me join this community and have the space to write/blog/chat etc.
When I first started blogging, in my mind I had to decide what the purpose was for me. Some people I know blog about hugely deeply spiritual things, some people blog their art, write about their holidays, are personal, not personal. It all varies. For me, it quickly became clear, and someone else has said this in passing, that I needed an outlet. A writing outlet, a place to put my thoughts, to say what I was thinking, to get it all down in words.
Not many people know this, and sometimes it wont come across in my posts well, but I love writing. I write alot. I write thoughts, poems, meditation. So, I wanted somewhere I could write.
I wanted somewhere, where the stuff I wrote was actually read. I write everything I write on this blog and the stuff on the old one with the intention and knowingness that someone might read it.
When I first started writing, the only people who knew my blog was mine were people I knew from online. Friends I have met from forums etc. Then reality started to merge with online life. More and more people started reading, and a couple of people from real life wanted to know my site. I dont hide the fact I blog, I have no reason to, but I also dont advertise it. I dont shout it out everywhere I go, so when people ask I give them the address, if they dont, I dont tell them.
Anyway, so more and more people started to read. People from work, life and the community I was living in and serving. A couple of the people who read this (or did do, no idea if you still do) knew me well. Were part of my house group. And that was fine.
What wasnt fine was opening myself up so totally, that people knew about an aspect of my life that I tried so hard to hard, for so long. Tried to hard to keep behind closed doors. Worked hard on not letting anyone know.
That meant I was unable to blog. I couldnt tell people in reality what was happening, and I couldnt write about it.
And then came the day, when with the support of a friend, I sat in front of a group of close people, in a home group, and told them. Told them about the depression.
The depression that has been part of my life for so long, but that has come and gone many times. That had been and gone, and then came back while I was in their community. Why is it a big deal? Maybe it isnt. Maybe to some it isnt, but you, sometimes you just never know what people are going to say do you.
How would this community feel about having a youth worker who was a depressive. How would people look at me, how would their thoughts and thinking about me change?
Its easy to say it wouldnt, but you know, it so easily could have done. And I never wanted to run the risk of people thinking I was incapable, unable, and shouldnt be in my job. I loved my work to pieces, I loved the people around me. What I didnt and dont love is the life behind closed doors sometimes.
When I sat with my group of people and told them about the depression I felt sick, but I was totally blessed by peoples responses. They were all totally amazing, continued to be totally amazing, and still are totally amazing.
Its easy to say “its only depression” and ” in this day and age there is no stigma”.
But actually there is probably more stigma attached to it than people realise.
I was so scared of what other people would say I could never say what I wanted to …
anyway, long kind of rambling post I supposed, but the point of this is to come out into blog world and say ” I live with depression”
I have lived with depression since an early teenager, maybe I always will, who knows.
I know some of you who dont know this might be surprised. I had a good friend laugh at me once when I told her, because she just could not accept that behind my smile and loud personality, I could be ill with something like that.
Anyway, totally lost focus now so i will ssshh for a little while, and come back when I have regained thought once more