I’ve been prescribed antidepressants. I’ve battled with depression since I was about 13 years old when it was initially dismissed as hormones and just being a teenager. I’ve never been diagnosed with it in the medical sense until today. My doctor’s facial reaction when she heard the reasoning why I was sitting in her office was enough to measure why I was being prescribed the SSRIs Citalopram, 20mg tablets take one a day.
She thanked me for getting help but in all honesty me sitting in that office took a lot of hard work from myself and others who led me to help. My doctor wondered why I didn’t start getting help at 15, when I made the first but not last attempt to take my own life. Simple, I kept it secret. The overdose didn’t work, I walked it off and acted as if it was nothing. I was just an angst ridden teen no one knew the difference between that and the dark clouded thoughts cluttering my mind.
At 17 I experienced a traumatic event which is the background of my PTSD. This was the first time in my life I had been referred to a counselor to talk about what was going on inside my head. I was prescribed sleeping pills and was making progress. I stopped seeing my counselor and went travelling round Spain for a month with my best friend and had the time of my life. I started uni in October. I started counselling again two months later. I couldn’t cope and was drinking far too much to numb myself.
I started dating someone, the first relationship I’d had in 3 years. Unfortunately it wasn’t the right relationship, they convinced me seeing my counselor was a bad thing and that it was embarrassing to them that I did. So I stopped to keep hold of them because I believed it was them that kept me grounded, I never realised they were wrong at the time. After a year long relationship I broke up with them via phone call in my friend’s bathroom, I finally ended a broken relationship which made me so miserable.
I started seeing someone new a month after. Perhaps too soon but I really liked them. They were opposite, kind and considerate. They actually cared about me. Then the demons started coming back the traumatic event that happened at 17 had a timer. 2 and half years. My anxiety and depression skyrocketed. I couldn’t breathe and was finding that I didn’t want to anymore. I ended the relationship even though I loved them, even though I cared about them, I couldn’t carry on. I hurt them badly so they wouldn’t want me but they still did. I still don’t know why.
My depression spiraled and I tried the pills again. I didn’t get death I got a tummy ache for 2 days. I had run out of enough, it was 4am I couldn’t get more. My now ex convinced me to see a counselor again which I did. I needed help although I didn’t want to admit it. I sat in their office and talked for 50 minutes. They told me to go to the doctors. I would receive weekly counselling from them, as well as an additional counselor which they’d organise through my doctor.
In two weeks I have a check up, maybe my mind will start to get better. I hope so.
Browsing through cartoons to watch when As Told By Ginger pops up. I dislike that show, I didn’t always but it’s connected to the memory of my first detention in primary school. I cried when I got it, I’d never got one before and thinking about it now I got it for the stupidest reason - late to class because I was getting a drink of water.
My class teacher didn’t stop me it was the playground staff, Maxine. I remember her now I never really liked her, when I hit my head and had to go to first aid she was less that helpful when I said I could see colourful dots (I had an eye problem which has since been corrected) and was feeling dizzy. I was told to walk it off in so many words.
I was about 8 years old and I had a lot of home problems, my dad had cancer, my mum wanted to leave him and I was just stuck in the middle of it all floating by trying to get a little bit of attention. All the other children loved her and I never knew why, I tried to like her but she just seemed to have it out for me.
I was the child who loved reading and hated other children, I preferred being alone rather than in groups, I am an introvert. I guess she didn’t know how to deal with introverts. She was also one of the staff that put pressure on my eating. In a previous post I’ve explained I first showed signs of an eating disorder when I was 5. The school dealt with this first by monitoring my lunch sitting with me til I’d eaten what they considered a healthy amount then eventually when their attempts failed I moved on to packed lunch which I preferred because I could shield behind my lunch box and eat in without fear of being watched. I hate people watching me eat.
She used to stare over at me a lot which made me nervous and often meant I left half my lunch unfinished. I was bullied by the other children quite a lot, often the case when you read a lot and prefer to be alone. I never realised until now that she was also my bully. She hid under the veil of authority but still did things which went on to damage me further in life.
I’m not sure if this post has a purpose, honestly it’s more of a ramble. I’ve started on the wave of self discovery and I guess that means tackling the things in my past that contributed to the negative aspects of my life. Which provided my low self esteem, obsession over weight, warped idea of what I look like and general lack of self-confidence. This is my road to recovery.
I’ve recently broken up with my significant other, which has not been easy to say the least even though I was the one who ended it.
For months I felt neglected and my insecurities have been feeding on it like mental. It’s not that he didn’t pay attention to me it’s just he didn’t in the way I fantasied. He’d be with me and his phone would constantly buzz - a friend or another email, it drove me insane.
I’d come over after a long shift at work and he’d said he’d make dinner, he’d want to cuddle for half an hour then start prepping dinner even though I was starving and tired. I liked to cuddle don’t get me wrong but sometimes it was the attention given at the wrong time.
I wanted someone who understood my head, even though I didn’t fully understand it. I was always stressed and screaming I must have been a nightmare. I was impatient and jealous most of the time. I wanted someone to pay me full mind when they were with me (no phones or distractions), liked to cuddle at appropriate times and understood my schedule.
I told this to my friend yesterday he said I was asking too much, but is it really? I think it’s asking just enough.
Please take and share this is for an article I’m writing.
The Experimental Food Society Spectacular is back for the fourth year running with a two-day exhibition at the Truman Brewery in east London.