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"My brother and I" part 3 - journal with my experience of depression
The label that I gained from the psychiatrist regarding the anorexia diagnosis is what pretty much led me to where I am now; it’s like a self-fulfilling prophecy. And now that I’ve left the eating disorders team, I have no one to prove that I’m losing weight, therefore no satisfaction. In a way, that helped the voices, and I was able to control Ana; as I said earlier, I am also able to fully let go of her if I truly want to. And so I began releasing the thoughts regarding eating and simply eating however and whenever I wanted, but little did I know that it would lead me to lose more weight. When I was restricting, food was on my mind a lot, which would make me feel more hungry. It led me to this realisation that if I simply continued with the new routine, then it would be a more effective method of losing weight? It was not much about body dysmorphia either; I was pretty satisfied with how my body looked. Rather, it was more about being able to control the numbers on the weight scale. The progress and the results from your actions are shown in a numbered form.
It was when I had an appointment with Kathy, my dietitian, that I decided to make a change; it was rather upsetting for her to see the stage I had arrived at after having monitored my eating habits for the last 3 years. Instead of seeing the numbers go down, what if I made them go up? Technically speaking, for my brain, that should be the same system, no? Both are methods of control, and a part of me knows that due to my fast metabolism, even if I do eat four meals a day, my weight will not change. You could then say it’s a win-win situation. I get to be the ‘thinnest girl in the room’ and continue to eat as much as I could. And even if I resort back to starving myself, my weight would not decline much either.
I am glad to say that I may have let go of Ana and will be on the road to recovery. I feel as though this journey must be taken alone, almost like meditating; directions from others can break the focus, which defeats its purpose.
Now, while I have my anorexia under control, it is time to look and care for my depression. The hard thing about depression is the inability to free yourself from it; it is similar to Stockholm Syndrome. Depression is the captor, and while victims are supposed to attempt to free themselves or at least form some type of resentment, instead, they form an emotional bond with the abuser.
During the days where I do feel hopeful or content, I find myself attempting to bring back the dark stormy cloud because it is the only feeling that I have become familiar with. It provides a level of comfort which I am unable to place into words.
Almost like sitting on a soft couch with fluffy blankets in front of the fireplace, while it is stormy and rainy outside. You feel safe, protected and most importantly you feel warm. Now compare this with being outside on a really sunny day and being really sweaty, while it could provide satisfaction for some, however, most often individuals would prefer the colder and cozier season.
I suppose this may link to how seasonal depression works in some way; the comfort of isolation grows and thrives like bacteria during the cold dark months as we spend more time at home, and as I said earlier, sometimes we invite depression in voluntarily and sometimes we crave it.
The topic of death lingers in the back of my mind like those radios that continue to play the same song over and over again. What if I simply just allowed this van to run me over? Would that kill me, or worse, would that leave me alive but disabled? The idea of not needing to continue with this game of survival is sometimes a desperate feeling. Could I maybe get placed into a coma and remain asleep forever? That way, it doesn’t count as suicide, does it? Because suicide is a sin, and unless I want to go to hell, I can’t commit even though it feels desperate sometimes. I often find myself hoping that someone else could kill me instead, that I get into a terrible accident or that cancer comes back and finishes its job. All of this just to get peace from this dreadful game and go to sleep. Because even sleep nowadays does not provide me with peace whatsoever, the anti-depressants have been overworking my brain with all these tiring dreams, and I’m talking about dreams that reflect exactly what goes on in my brain; they can be extremely triggering, sometimes leaving me awake and speechless.
I am always told to be grateful for the life that I am living with the number of opportunities in front of me, and others have it much worse than I do. I wish I could allow myself to appreciate this life given to me; I really do, because I am held at gunpoint by this demon in my head, and it feels suffocating, hence why the only way out would be to accept defeat and commit suicide.
However, there is also another way out of this dark, soggy cave, and it is to physically pick yourself off the floor and climb the broken ladder to the exit; those who are able to do so, I want to give them a hug because it seems impossible at times. Almost like when you need to get up to go to school or to work, but you are so warm under the covers and getting up would mean being exposed to the cold, so staying in bed often feels like the best option. But staying in bed will have its consequences. Therefore, the most reasonable option is to wake up and pull yourself out of the situation.
At the very moment, I could say I am managing things slightly better; I am able to go and take showers, maybe not as often as I should, but little steps make progress, you know. Sometimes, we do need to give our bodies a bit of a break; it tolerate so much, and it can get exhausted over time, just like an overworked engine, until it is unable to do so and break down. If we think about it, humans are similar to small little bugs; we’re fragile and prone to the dangers of the world. Therefore, giving yourself some time and slowly building good habits can be very beneficial in the long run. It was when I had a hatha yoga class and was lying down during an exercise; my yoga instructor began softly reminding us of the great life Mother Nature has given us, and we could attempt to appreciate everything we have on earth. We are blessed with the ability to, see, hear and feel great things in life, and even if we are struggling with something, everything does eventually come to an end. We can customise our individual characters, from the way we dress and look to how we act and where we live. If you’re unhappy with your current character, then alter it, move to a different country and bring out a new version of yourself, change your name, your hair, and take on a different job. It is, of course, easier said than done, but attempting to view the world from a different perspective helps sometimes; maybe consider the glass half full? And if your glass is empty, then maybe fill it up slowly with different achievements every day, they don’t need to be big; simply getting out of bed can create a large pour into the glass.
To put it in a different perspective, we are all going to die at some point, whether it be today or in 80 years, because everything comes to an end, including negative things. So why not spend the remainder of your life, while you are on earth, to try and discover new things: gain a pet, or make a family? Of course, it is easier said than done, even for me at the moment, but life and your actions won’t matter once you’re dead, so use this life as a free trial before your soul decides on its final destination. Who knows when we will die? Might as well live your life to the fullest; climb that ladder and escape to see what lies within the ground above? It may provide you even more comfort than the dark, soggy cave that you convinced yourself was a safe space.
Run out of characters, part 4 out :)#Depression
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