Think before you speak – don’t be a dick – Week 2

Things that people who don’t understand say when you tell them about mental illness.  Maybe someone might read it and re-evaluate what they say to the next person who has taken the plunge to open up about their mental illness.

‘Oh, I felt a bit sad the other day too, I had a good cry and felt much better afterwards’

No. This is probably one of the biggest misconceptions of depression. It isn’t just feeling a bit sad. It’s an overwhelming feeling of everything and nothing all at once.

Emptiness, Sadness, Desperation, Fear, Panic, Anger, Sorrow, Guilt, Hopelessness, Exhaustion and a million other things too. All while feeling completely hollow and disconnected. A good cry won’t fix it. It might help alleviate some feelings, but you can’t just cry out depression – if you could, it wouldn’t be considered an illness.

I am sorry you felt sad the other day, but it really REALLY doesn’t quite compare to depression. Everyone experiences depression in different ways, yes there are many symptoms all people experience, but my sorrow is different to yours, MY fears are different to yours. It’s not about feeling a bit sad and crying it out.


If only it were…

Think before you speak. Don’t be a dick.

This is real life.

I am sat here in bed at almost 9am on a Sunday, crying at my microwave re-heated pizza.  

Oh accountability- I bought pizza. Yes I regret it, but I’m going to eat every slice of it even if it kills me. Maybe it will. That would be a sort of bitter sweet outcome. 

Hopelessness, and empty sadness is how I feel, but I’m still here. Still alive to feel all that shit. This is the part where I’m not so good at functioning. Yay me….😒


Would it still be ‘not that bad’ if I kill myself?

Would people still try and make comments about ‘blowing things out of proportion’ if I just disappeared?

Would my depression be valid if I killed myself? 

Would you even notice if I just wasn’t around anymore? 
Even when I point blank, matter of factly talk about my feelings of hopelessness, grief, sorrow, emptiness and sucidal thoughts, my “depression” isn’t depression depression and I can handle it…

I can’t. I don’t want to. Why am I not good enough, why are my feelings not validated. Why do I even bother….

Hello Friday – now go away 

First things first – accountability – I bought scratchcards. I did win a fiver, but entirely not the point.

Good now that’s outta the way.
I’ve had what feels like about 7 minutes of sleep. Horrible, harrowing nightmares are back, so it looks like I’m in for a long ride with this lack of sleep. I usually get a fairly long bout of the nightmares, always hopeful it will be a one off though. 

Another thing people don’t really understand about the mind, is that it is a fantastic thing. It has the power to make you feel every emotion and cripple you even in your sleep. My depression brings exhaustion, which messes with my sleep and my tired brain likes to scare me, and make me anxious. It’s a vicious cycle. Another horrible aspect of having mental health problems 
I would go back to bed but actually I feel slightly scared about what my brain will bring me in that moment. So I’m going to try and busy myself with a puzzle or some thing. 

Buy All The Things. 

This is one of the first warning signs for me that I am going to hit a mega depressive episode. I feel that little bastard slowly edging his way in and almost every single time I turn to spending or eating – or both. These are both habits I’d rather not have, almost addictions actually. I’m addicted to the little buzz of endorphins I get when I have mail, and when I have new things. I think I am going to make a conscious effort to not buy anything that I don’t need to keep my dog alive or my business running until the end of March. Just to see how much money I can put in the ever emptying mortgage pot I have, because everytime I fill it I buy something  daft or something comes up. I’m going to hold myself accountable, every time I buy something I shouldn’t I’m going to put it on here. That might help me get over it, having to actually show other people how bad it gets. 

Now, I’m not financially crippled, but I’m certainly not well off enough to keep up this binge buying for much longer. I have so many pretty things in my life that are a result of a sorry attempt to beat the blues by spending money that I should be saving. When the depressive episodes fade off for a while and I look around at all the things, it’s bitter sweet. I love them, of course. I wouldn’t have bought them otherwise. I also feel guilt, guilt that I shouldn’t have, that I should have saved the money or waited until I knew I wasn’t just buying it for the 5 second thrill of getting mail. The guilt makes me resent myself for not having the strength to stop spending money when I’m down. Which generally starts the cycle over more quickly than it would if I had managed to keep my card away from all the pretty things. 

I’m fully capable of not spending, I’ve lasted long periods of time saving spare money and not binge buying, but lately I’ve gotten lazy with that strength to resist the urge. I reason with myself. 

‘You work hard, why not treat yourself?!’

Because generally you don’t need a treat every week and you don’t work hard enough to warrant throwing hundreds of pounds around like confetti at a wedding. 
Just last night I did it. I went to the shop, yes I walked to the end of the road for crisps and didn’t die – achievement unlocked!’ for ‘a bag of transformer crisps’ I came out of the shop £12 lighter. Picking up things like it was supermarket sweep. I almost forgot the bloody crisps I went in for. 

Then I spent most of the evening thinking about why I did it. Then promptly went online and bought another a painting of a whale.

It’s getting silly now, all these beautiful pieces end up in the box of ‘oh I should get a frame for that’ and basically don’t ever come out. I keep meaning to go through and sell some things, and then I look at them and fail in love all over again. 
It’s not always an expensive binge but that’s not the point. It’s the lack of self control, the guilt and resentment that follow and almost always leave me in a position of buying more shit I don’t need or really want. Do I feel happier today with my £12 buy all the things bag – the simple answer is NO. I’m still depressed, And I don’t even want the crisps now because I’ve got zero appetite for anything. 

Ugh. I’m going back to bed. 

Think before you speak. Don’t be a dick. – Week 1

Things that people who don’t understand say when you tell them about mental illness. There are so many, I am going to start this as a weekly feature. Maybe someone might read it and re-evaluate what they say to the next person who has taken the plunge to open up about their mental illness. 

I do have many things in my life to be grateful for. Do you know what? I am

It is possible to be depressed and still be grateful. 

To be angry and be grateful. 

To feel lonely and be grateful. 

To be scared and still be grateful. 

To feel exhaustion and STILL BE GRATEFUL. 

There is nothing more heartbreaking than opening up to someone and hearing anything along the lines of ‘but you have so much to be grateful for.’

Depression doesn’t work like that. I don’t know why I feel like I am slowly drowning in my own sorrow inside, why it hurts to be awake somedays and it feels like an achievement if I manage to get dressed. It just does. That doesn’t mean I am not grateful for the clothes I (don’t) wear or the food I (can’t) eat. The people I (can’t) talk to. It doesn’t mean I’m ungrateful. I’m just unwell. 

When you say something like that it makes people feel guilty. Guilty for being ill, for having something that they cannot control taking over their lives. 

Fuck, we feel bad enough as it is, without you strapping us into the guilt train for another ride into hell for the day/week. 

Think before you speak. Don’t be a dick.

What does it feel like to have an anxiety attack? 

This question will have a million varied answers from each person you ask.

For me, it’s kinda like, like what I imagine it would be like getting lost in a forest. When the sun’s about to go down, all the creepy critters come out and the last of your phone battery was used up getting a text about an axe murderer on the loose in the very woods you’re lost in. You’re trapped and have to bloody hope they don’t find you! 

It’s frightening, my senses are on high alert. My chest feels so tight, I can’t catch my breath. I want to run but it feels like my feet are in concrete blocks. Glued to the spot with the darkness creeping in. My heart is thumping so hard I can feel it in my throat, my palms are sweating but my hands feel frozen cold. I am deafeaned by silence and ringing all at the same time. Everything around me feels like it’s speeding past in a blur and I can’t see which way to go, completely disoriented. I know I’m stood still but it feels like I’m spinning a million times a second. I try to call for help but no one can hear me, because there isn’t actually any sound leaving my lips. It feels like there’s a herd of wildebeest charging around inside me.  Usually ends with me crumpled on the ground, scared and exhausted. Unless I’ve been lucky enough to sense it coming and get myself somewhere safer and calmer to come out of it easier. The latter kind don’t tend to last long, but all of them usually feel like an eternity squeezed into the moment. 

What does it feel like to have an anxiety attack? Oh it’s a walk in the park, not sure why people make such a fuss out of being a little nervous. 🙄