I Wanna Talk Tonight, Until The Morning Light, About How You Saved My Life
So I guess I should document my life from depression to this here now. Whatever that may be. This may end up as a stream of consciousness and all over the place, simply because that’s how my mind works, at 400mph, thinking of ten things at once. There’s going to be some things that I hold back, but this is all true, the bare bones of me.
I am a 19 year old undergraduate studying Politics with International Relations. I suffer from depression (although only by definition that I am still on meds, I will soon be ‘recovered’), and was diagnosed at the age of 16 although I believe it eminated prior to this and was evident in my childhood/pre-teen years, roughly from the age of 12. Having suffered from bullying and loneliness throughout my time at secondary school I was finally “accepted” by my peers towards the end of my school years, and did well at GCSE but I feel that my unhappiness held me back from getting better grades than I did. Then I moved onto a sixth form college to do my A Levels, where I was able to make friends more easily, but my depression was still affecting me greatly. At this time I had joined an online site which had modules based on Cognitive Behavioural Therapy and a forum with other people who had similar issues to myself, and I had also begun counselling through a service which was recommended to me by my doctor. My depression was still troubling me and the doctor agreed to put me on medication alongside my counselling. After about 8 weeks of counselling I had made significant progress, in particular changing my thought processes and felt much better within myself. I opened up to my new found friends who were very understanding and helped me through that period. It was around this time that I decided to tell my parents that I had depression. I didn’t feel comfortable telling them, but they needed to know, and they respected my hesitancy to open up to them about it, whilst still trying to support me. I then returned to counselling at my college as I was troubled again, and this helped, but not as much as the previous counselling, and after a while I stopped going. I spoke to my tutor and teachers about how I had been feeling and they were very understanding and also supported me greatly. Towards the end of the academic year I visited the counsellor again because I was in a bad place. I achieved good results at A Level despite my depression, and that was thanks to the friends I made who understood and supported me whilst I helped myself improve my mood.
With regards to the support that was available to me, that was interesting. I first went to my doctor after I found myself posting about my feelings on a football forum that I was a member of, as I felt like that was the most comfortable place for me, and several people offered to talk to me, which I took them up on. Eventually it was suggested I see my doctor, which I did. Firstly it was just basically given a leaflet for counselling and told to ring the number. I wasn’t in the right mindset to do this, and later went back to another doctor who wasn’t particularly helpful. Eventually I found a doctor who understood and have seen him ever since, he introduced me to the counselling service and put me on medication. I found there was not any sort of help available at my secondary school, but was lucky enough to have trust with a very kind teacher who knew my family, and was able to talk to him. At college there was a counselling service and my teachers were all supportive, but certainly there was no real attempt to concentrate on the issue of mental health. At university I have contacted a seminar tutor with regards to how I could get the uni to sign the time to change pledge, and she forwarded it on, but since then nothing has happened. They have disability support and the person in charge of it was very helpful. I still feel more could be done however.
Where to start? During primary school is when everything was set in motion, my mum worked in my class and as such I was always scared to be “naughty”. Not because I was afraid of the punishment from the teacher but because I didn’t want my mum to find out. This prevented me from realising my own sense of what was right and wrong, and whether I wanted to be “naughty” or good. As a result this would affect me later on in life. I started to get bullied in year 5 and year 6, by a small group of girls mainly. Then as I moved up into secondary school I was bullied viciously, and no-one stood up for me. I used to hang around with my brother and his friends because I was seeking comfort, reassurance, and as such I didn’t mingle with those from my own year. One day I tried to join in football and was told to go away (in slightly ruder terms) and play football with my brother. Really, the bullying never ceased from year 5 until even year 11. I slowly began to integrate myself within my year and make my own friends, but still the bullying was there. It was only words now, but it was still as difficult to take as if I was being beaten up each day. I came home and sobbed for a good few hours one day, I was so upset by it all. As I grew older, I became more resistant to it, but then everyone joined in, even my so called friends. They would call me “old man” and none of them knew why, but I did and it made me self conscious, I still bear the effects of that to this day. It was about my hair. Really. My hair. Supposedly I had a receding hairline, well that’s bollocks I tell you now! I just have a high forehead. However, I still make a massive effort to make my hair look good, and it’s not due to vanity, it’s because of that bullying. Eventually it began to settle down when they all realised I was half decent at cricket, but even then, I accidentally broke someone’s finger just by bowling a cricket ball during a nets session, and they started to make out as if it was deliberate. It was a bit of a lose lose situation.
I was probably 12 or 13 when “depression” manifested itself in a different form inside me. That was aggression and anger. A quiet, shy little boy who was suffocated at school would come home and explode in fits of rage at his brother. My brother, 2 and a half years my senior, bore the brunt of my aggression. You might say “well that’s just your normal sibling rivalry”. You would be wrong. I spent hours and hours on end fighting him, he barricaded his door with a bookcase and yet I would spend hours screaming and shouting and slamming against his door just to get at him. I even hit him with a miniature cricket bat I bought from the Oval when I captained the school team there. That wasn’t right, and it’s evident that something was wrong looking back.
Then, college arrived. I was leaving school and those friends I spent so long trying to find were all heading off elsewhere. Like I said earlier, I managed to make new friends, but it took a little while. These friends are probably the best ones I’ve ever made but it sucks that they’ve all gone to uni elsewhere. Two in particular saved me from myself during my time at college. H & S were just brilliant, so understanding when I opened up to them about my issues and just really great friends. ‘I’ was also a great help, she was just one of those people who you could talk to about anything. Also, in my business class, there was a girl called Sam. She was quiet, but seemed pretty good at business. I didn’t like where I was sitting because of a guy called Jordan who was loud and kept trying to get me to give him my work! Eventually I asked my teacher if I could move and she said it was fine. Then the next lesson I was put into a pair with Sam, I was a bit scared because my confidence was pretty low, but we got on well. I then decided to move and sit next to her as she was awesome at business, that took a lot from me because I was a bit worried for some reason. Yet, she’s a really good friend now. So it goes to show that sometimes good things happen when you fight back against your fears.
Moving on to what is probably the most interesting thing for me. People. People are my life and soul. My t-shirt says it’s music but really it’s people. I love interacting with people, talking to them, helping them, whatever. I mentioned that I joined a forum, well I befriended a girl a couple of years younger than me ‘K’ and we got to know each other really well over the course of about a year. We both had major issues at the time, but we helped each other through them. You know people talk about love, and they misunderstand it, but this, this was love. Not romantic love, but sort of like sibling love. I would spend hours on the phone trying to calm her down, trying to help her, we would text all the time. Why am I telling you this? Unfortunately one day, her family forced her to hand over all her passwords, they looked at her messages and her sister came onto msn, had a massive go at me for talking to K about my feelings (I wasn’t very subtle) gave me the most severe panic attack I’ve ever had to this day. I was physically sick because of it. I regret the way I talked to her throughout that year because it probably made her worse, and in the end it contributed to losing her. From that day onwards, the only contact I’ve had from her was an e-mail to say goodbye. No-one will ever begin to comprehend how that felt. I still dream about her to this day, I still wonder what she is doing, how she is, if I’ll ever get to see her. It was like someone had taken my insides, twisted them around and ripped them out, performing surgery on me without anaesthetic. That’s how painful it was. I miss her, I loved her, and she loved me. Since then, no-one has ever loved me, not anywhere near to the way she loved me, and I’ve never loved anyone the way I loved her. The closest I’ve come is probably Ch, who I love and who cares about me as well. A girl who has lots of troubles in her life, but gets on with it, is still here and comes to me when she needs support. I hope she knows that I’ll never give up on her, I’ll always be there to help her and that I’ll try my best whatever it is she needs support with.
People really have come and gone from my life. Too many people just as I got close to them, they would go, for whatever reason they left. That includes my uncle. This is a guy who was more like a dad/best mate to me. I would confide in him about anything and everything, we would laugh and joke, he was a bit of a comedian, but then my nan died, and well family stuff happened and he fucked off, punishing me and my brother, but mainly me, for something that we had no control over.
To lose people, that is my greatest fear in life. If I get close to someone, I have a fear that I will lose them. It takes over and it begins to affect the relationship and thus I have to be careful to notice this and act on it.
There’s one person who I attribute the title of this blog to. ‘V’ . This girl, or young woman now, she saved my life. I don’t mean that literally, but I might as well mean it literally because she was there for me when I needed someone the most. We got to know each other because we support the same football team, and we became friends. V was the friend I was crying out for, and if I hadn’t had her with me then I don’t know where I would be. I love her, she’s amazing and I’m so pleased I know her.
If this was an essay, I would be losing marks left right and centre for digressing. It’s not an essay though so it’s alright. However, here is where I explain what this all means and how I battled through all of the above to be where I am now. Where I am now is a content place, a place rid of depression and largely anxiety, but a place with underlying problems still very much there. The difference between today and last year is that I know how to deal with them. If you asked me “how do you deal with it?” then I wouldn’t be able to answer, because it’s sort of become innate now. Counselling changed my life. I love self actualising. Learning about the human mind, in particular my own is beautiful for me, and it helped me to recover. I identified the problems that I had and I realised when I was being irrational, when I was allowing my logic to be overridden by emotion. Talking to people, a counsellor and people in general, it allowed me to explore myself and discover ways to cope with my emotions. Gradually I moved out of the dark and into the light.
I implore you not to give up on yourself. You have so much to give to the world, you cannot see it right now, but you do. “Oh darling, I know you can’t see a light, but darling, don’t you see, you have one inside!” You’re scared, you’re tired and you don’t want to fight anymore. You constantly tell yourself you’re going to end it but you’re still here. That’s because you have hope, you think that surely nothing can be any worse than this, you’re still here, you want to live and you will live so long as you believe. I’m not preaching to you, I’m not going to tell you everything will be rosy tomorrow just because you believe it will, but that belief inside is key to giving you the strength to find ways through this.
Look at me, I’ve come from suicidal tendencies, an overdose and self harm to being content with myself despite my life being far from perfect. I’m 18 months free of self harm. Me, I’m nothing special, yet I am. I am special because I am unique, just as you are. You are unique and that is beautiful, if you give up on yourself then the world will lose something, the world will weep at your loss because it’s brilliance, it’s beauty becomes less because you passed away.
Please don’t be afraid to talk, if you have a bad experience with one person it doesn’t mean you will have it again, talking saved my life, it can save yours to.
To conclude, I just want to say a massive massive thank you from the bottom of my hear to these people: Vicki, Kel, Harry, Sophie, Chloe, Cath, Alex, Amy, Doug, Rebecca, Saira, Sam, Sarita, Tom, Rag, Lee, Steph, Aimee. All of these people have in a huge way helped me through my depression, they supported me through the bad times, they shared my good times, but most of all they never gave up on me. I love every one of them, they are my strength. I missed out one ‘person’ from that list though. Twitter. Each and every one of you who talks to me, who retweets, who favourites, who interacts with me in anyway shape or form helps me through the day. I love you all, and I hope that my words give you hope, that my words help you in some small way. If they do, for just one of you, then I consider that a success. I set up Talk Out to help people, I seem to have a knack of doing it and doing it well. It’s a gift I’m grateful for.
Don’t worry, about a thing, cos every little thing, is gonna be alright! The trick of it is: don’t be afraid anymore!