My blog has always contained a strange and seemingly random mix of topics, I try to keep the personal stuff to a minimum but there are times when I just need to get something out and for some reason publishing that something on this blog seems to help. So tonight I use that venting purpose of my blog for possibly the most serious of any of the posts I've written.
I have depression. Part of me has been worried that something wasn't quite right in my head for a long time now, but recently it just got too much for me. I moved to uni and everything in my life is as good as it has ever been, yet I was so unhappy I could barely bring myself to get out of bed. I realised that I was no longer able to cope on my own and forced myself to see a doctor. I know it's cliché but admitting out loud that I thought I had a problem was genuinely the most difficult thing I've ever had to do. I am now on anti-depressant medication and will be having regular check ups over the next few months.
Until writing this post I had only told a few people, not because I wanted to keep it a secret, but because it wasn't a relevant point to bring up. I refuse to believe there is any reason for any sort of stigma to be attached to depression or any form of mental illness. There is a chemical imbalance in my body that causes some unwanted effects, much in the same way many physical illness work, my imbalance just happens to be in the synapses of my brain that's all. Everyone I have told about it, family, friends, even my lecturers, have been brilliant, offering me as much support as I could ever want. Special thanks has to be given to Katie and Sabrina though, without whom I'd be in a much lonelier and darker place.
I've had my pills for just under a week now, apparently they take 2-4 weeks before they really get to work, so I'm still a little way off being ok. I am however noticing two interesting side effects. One of the better known and often questioned effects of anti-depressants is increased thoughts of suicide. Now I've never had and still have no desire to kill myself I promise you, so maybe this is just a placebo effect, but I've become very aware of the possibility, a car drives past me and I know I could jump under it, I use a knife and know I could open my jugular, I take my medication and wonder if I have enough to overdose. I don't want to do it, but I'm acutely aware of my own ability to end my life. The second side effect is less serious, but certainly more annoying. (People who know me, this might get a little weird depending on how close we are, just saying) Being 19 and single my sex drive was pretty high as it was, but I get to be one of the lucky minority of users who gets theirs sent through the fucking roof by their pills, so for the next few weeks I'll be as horny as a dog in heat but have the self confidence of the average sea cucumber, so that'll be fun (FYI, the ex drive effect is likely to stay as long as the meds do, only the confidence level will change... hopefully it will)
On a serious note though, telling people about this has helped me so much in such a short space of time. If you think even a little bit that you might have depression then tell someone, either see a doctor or tell someone you trust to help you though it. Trust me, I know how terrifying that thought is, but it will be a massive step in helping you overcome it.
