Thursday, 15 October 2015
Wednesday, 14 October 2015
Robin Williams
I have suffered from depression for about 4 years.
Depression is a disease, a disorder, the manifestation of something
fundamentally wrong in the functioning of my brain. I can no more will
myself out of depression than a diabetic can will his pancreas to
produce more insulin. As I recently told someone critical of Robin
Williams' suicide, judging someone killed by depression makes as much
sense as judging someone killed by cancer.
If depression is more insidious -- and more misunderstood -- than other disorders, it is because its core symptoms are mental and emotional. This can make it difficult to distinguish the person from the disease, as our thoughts and emotions define who we are. This confusing of the person with the disease is not confined to non-sufferers; when the depression is especially bad, I lose the ability to remind myself that this is not me. That is when depression is dangerous; when it swamps the person inside to the extent that they believe the irrational, self-negating thoughts are fully their own, rather than the diseased processes of a dysfunctional brain. And there is something more to depression, which is hard to put into words adequately: it wants to kill you. In the lowest lows, the darkest depths, it makes you "understand" that you need to be dead. The necessity and inevitability of suicide becomes as self-evident as one plus one equals two. You find yourself wondering why you haven't done it yet. What's holding you back? What is this week's lame excuse for continuing, when the future holds only more pain and failure?
The difference between "feeling low" and clinical depression is the difference between a paper cut and a knife in your back. I have a high tolerance for physical pain, but "pain" hardly begins to describe what depression does to your mind. It swallows you and the universe whole, replacing every vaguely good thought or feeling with a rasping oily blackness that wants to blot you out of existence.
You don't cope with depression so much as you build a repertoire of techniques for escaping from it, and they are all unhealthy: alcohol abuse, disconnecting from friends and loved ones, obsessing over the world's many evils in an attempt to comfort yourself with the thought that others share your hell. I sleep to escape it. It has cost me jobs and relationships and more opportunities than I can count. Depression leaves wreckage in its wake, hurting more than just the sufferer, wounding innocent bystanders as it carries you along. Depression is a bastard.
I have been through every form of therapy and medication. One pill helps a little. Very little. Antidepressants are not "happy pills"; they are "painkillers." Just as an aspirin may hold a headache or toothache at arm's length for a while, antidepressants (if you're lucky) may help dull the edges. At least a little. At least for a while. You take what you can get.
This is not an appeal for sympathy. It is a request to consider depression in a light you may have discounted in the past. I know other people suffer from other conditions with a grace and courage few of us can imagine. But please don't judge someone fighting for their life with this wicked disease. Whether we hide in a corner or try to cover it with a clown face, some small measure of understanding -- and patience -- couldn't hurt.
If depression is more insidious -- and more misunderstood -- than other disorders, it is because its core symptoms are mental and emotional. This can make it difficult to distinguish the person from the disease, as our thoughts and emotions define who we are. This confusing of the person with the disease is not confined to non-sufferers; when the depression is especially bad, I lose the ability to remind myself that this is not me. That is when depression is dangerous; when it swamps the person inside to the extent that they believe the irrational, self-negating thoughts are fully their own, rather than the diseased processes of a dysfunctional brain. And there is something more to depression, which is hard to put into words adequately: it wants to kill you. In the lowest lows, the darkest depths, it makes you "understand" that you need to be dead. The necessity and inevitability of suicide becomes as self-evident as one plus one equals two. You find yourself wondering why you haven't done it yet. What's holding you back? What is this week's lame excuse for continuing, when the future holds only more pain and failure?
The difference between "feeling low" and clinical depression is the difference between a paper cut and a knife in your back. I have a high tolerance for physical pain, but "pain" hardly begins to describe what depression does to your mind. It swallows you and the universe whole, replacing every vaguely good thought or feeling with a rasping oily blackness that wants to blot you out of existence.
You don't cope with depression so much as you build a repertoire of techniques for escaping from it, and they are all unhealthy: alcohol abuse, disconnecting from friends and loved ones, obsessing over the world's many evils in an attempt to comfort yourself with the thought that others share your hell. I sleep to escape it. It has cost me jobs and relationships and more opportunities than I can count. Depression leaves wreckage in its wake, hurting more than just the sufferer, wounding innocent bystanders as it carries you along. Depression is a bastard.
I have been through every form of therapy and medication. One pill helps a little. Very little. Antidepressants are not "happy pills"; they are "painkillers." Just as an aspirin may hold a headache or toothache at arm's length for a while, antidepressants (if you're lucky) may help dull the edges. At least a little. At least for a while. You take what you can get.
This is not an appeal for sympathy. It is a request to consider depression in a light you may have discounted in the past. I know other people suffer from other conditions with a grace and courage few of us can imagine. But please don't judge someone fighting for their life with this wicked disease. Whether we hide in a corner or try to cover it with a clown face, some small measure of understanding -- and patience -- couldn't hurt.
Tuesday, 13 October 2015
Lets talk tablets
I've posted my medication reminders. You may look at it and get confused. I get confused. I mean just looking at all three of them confuse me.
So where am I right now. I'm in the midst of a battle. It's round 10 I'm on the ropes and the people that are in my corner are telling me that I still need to take some hits before I can fight back. That's what my medication is doing to me.
I didn't really take the whole side affects of tablets seriously until I got diagnosed with bi-polar now I dread reading them. In fact I didn't even read up on my new one until yesterday. I managed to petty much tick every tick box going (apart from blisters) I mean seriously. It's a common one as well. Big fuck off blisters. But that one can stay away.
But yeah at the moment. I am battling the affects of coming off my old meds and going onto new ones.
I was just going to do a blog post that just said the word crap. But I thought I'd try and explain myself. I'm looking at in long term. This is just a small blip. Once I get over this. I'll be ready to rock and roll again.
Monday, 12 October 2015
Shame
I am writing this from my sofa, whilst I feel the uncontrollable urge not to throw up. I woke up this morning feeling pretty positive. Even for a Monday. Took my medication bang on time after breakfast. About half hour later, I started to feel a bit shit. But I thought I'd just bang through it. I got to work and it literally felt like I was drunk. I couldn't really say much, I was slurring my words and all I wanted to do was be sick.
So back to the locker room I go, with a flower bucket between my hands (thanks to everyone who looked after me at work the Mousers and Jackie) and all I could think about was "I must not throw up"
But I got sent home, I was in no fit state to work. So not only do I feel sick. I have this sense of shame that I have let people down. Myself, work and my wife.
It is a cycle of self loathing. I purposely did not read about the side affects of my medication due to the fact it could act like a placebo. If you read about something, your mind starts to play tricks on you. But after going home and falling asleep on the sofa. Linda woke me up to tell me the hospital had wrote to me with all the information about the side affects my medication could have. So I am posting page 1 of 5.
It is a horrible place to be when the tablets you are taking are meant to make you feel better, actually make you worse. You have a headache you take some paracetamol and your headache goes. You get depression, you take some tablets, the tablets make you worse before you get better. In fact they might even make you feel better.
The new medication I am on requires regular blood tests, to make sure it isn't fucking up my body too much. Pro's and Con's it's one of the best medications you can be prescribed to combat bi-polar but the side affects of getting used to it, as I am now finding out is pretty awful.
So to everyone reading this, I am sorry. I feel embarrassed. Having to leave work with a flower bucket in case you are sick isn't generally one of the looks I go for and I don't like Linda to see me like that either. I am a proud person and I thought I could just smash through this period, but I guess I am going to have to adjust my expectations and realise that this isn't going to be an easy journey that I am taking. But it will be a worthwhile one, no matter how shit I feel right now. I know at some point this will never happen again.
Yours shamefully
Glenn
So back to the locker room I go, with a flower bucket between my hands (thanks to everyone who looked after me at work the Mousers and Jackie) and all I could think about was "I must not throw up"
But I got sent home, I was in no fit state to work. So not only do I feel sick. I have this sense of shame that I have let people down. Myself, work and my wife.
It is a cycle of self loathing. I purposely did not read about the side affects of my medication due to the fact it could act like a placebo. If you read about something, your mind starts to play tricks on you. But after going home and falling asleep on the sofa. Linda woke me up to tell me the hospital had wrote to me with all the information about the side affects my medication could have. So I am posting page 1 of 5.
It is a horrible place to be when the tablets you are taking are meant to make you feel better, actually make you worse. You have a headache you take some paracetamol and your headache goes. You get depression, you take some tablets, the tablets make you worse before you get better. In fact they might even make you feel better.
The new medication I am on requires regular blood tests, to make sure it isn't fucking up my body too much. Pro's and Con's it's one of the best medications you can be prescribed to combat bi-polar but the side affects of getting used to it, as I am now finding out is pretty awful.
So to everyone reading this, I am sorry. I feel embarrassed. Having to leave work with a flower bucket in case you are sick isn't generally one of the looks I go for and I don't like Linda to see me like that either. I am a proud person and I thought I could just smash through this period, but I guess I am going to have to adjust my expectations and realise that this isn't going to be an easy journey that I am taking. But it will be a worthwhile one, no matter how shit I feel right now. I know at some point this will never happen again.
Yours shamefully
Glenn
Sunday, 11 October 2015
Sunday....blurghhhhday
I slept pretty okay again last night, apart from having some vivid nightmares. Which is always nice! Woke up again pretty early.
My wife would probably say I am being over-sensitive at the moment or it could just be because she is annoying ;) I just don't like orange squash! It is just boring!
Anyway this whole cutting my medicine in half doesn't appear to be going well. I've prepared some (it is like I am on GBBO) but my halves don't really like look halves.
So back to work tomorrow, and as I am taking my new medication every other day tomorrow is my second day of having my new medication and I am doing overtime and it is Monday. It has all the potential to be a mess.
I mean nobody likes Mondays (unless you have no job or are on holiday or if your job involves naked ladies of a certain age) let alone Mondays when I know the withdrawal with my medication will start to properly kick in. But it is just a case of pushing through I guess. I was quite positive as the whole feeling tired thing seemed to have stopped for a few days but it came back with a vengeance this afternoon, so I have stayed awake even though I could probably fall asleep standing up.
I try and take each day as it comes, but seeing my brain likes to fuck me. All I can think about is that it is going to be six months before my new medication starts to have any sort of affect on me. Six long months. Fuck man. That is going to take some will power to smash through that.
But overall my weekend has been pretty good. I mean if you didn't know I was going through what I am going through at the moment, you would think I was okay. But I guess that sums up depression. You can't see it and you have to put a face on.
I mean when you are at work and people ask how you are, you have to answer "yeah I am fine" I think if I actually answered honestly nobody would come near me!
But my wife cooked loads of stuff last night and I must say she has conned me all the time we have been together as she said she couldn't cook. BUT SHE CAN AND IF I HAD A DEAD WALNUT FACE LIKE MARY BERRY I'd be telling her how awesome her cooking is.
Anyway hope everyone enjoys their Sunday evening.
I'll be back tomorrow to let you all know how myCrapMonday went
Glenn
My wife would probably say I am being over-sensitive at the moment or it could just be because she is annoying ;) I just don't like orange squash! It is just boring!
Anyway this whole cutting my medicine in half doesn't appear to be going well. I've prepared some (it is like I am on GBBO) but my halves don't really like look halves.
So back to work tomorrow, and as I am taking my new medication every other day tomorrow is my second day of having my new medication and I am doing overtime and it is Monday. It has all the potential to be a mess.
I mean nobody likes Mondays (unless you have no job or are on holiday or if your job involves naked ladies of a certain age) let alone Mondays when I know the withdrawal with my medication will start to properly kick in. But it is just a case of pushing through I guess. I was quite positive as the whole feeling tired thing seemed to have stopped for a few days but it came back with a vengeance this afternoon, so I have stayed awake even though I could probably fall asleep standing up.
I try and take each day as it comes, but seeing my brain likes to fuck me. All I can think about is that it is going to be six months before my new medication starts to have any sort of affect on me. Six long months. Fuck man. That is going to take some will power to smash through that.
But overall my weekend has been pretty good. I mean if you didn't know I was going through what I am going through at the moment, you would think I was okay. But I guess that sums up depression. You can't see it and you have to put a face on.
I mean when you are at work and people ask how you are, you have to answer "yeah I am fine" I think if I actually answered honestly nobody would come near me!
But my wife cooked loads of stuff last night and I must say she has conned me all the time we have been together as she said she couldn't cook. BUT SHE CAN AND IF I HAD A DEAD WALNUT FACE LIKE MARY BERRY I'd be telling her how awesome her cooking is.
Anyway hope everyone enjoys their Sunday evening.
I'll be back tomorrow to let you all know how my
Glenn
Saturday, 10 October 2015
New medication/old medication
So here I am, adjusting to the change in my medication. After going to the Dr's yesterday and getting my new prescription then having to go to hospital to get a baseline blood test. To make sure the new medication doesn't fuck my body up to much.
Anyway I started my new combination of tablets last night with some trepidation. But I slept okay, apart from having some vivid fucking nightmares.
Although I woke up at 6am and couldn't get back to sleep, so I got up and decided to play Fifa. But then I had to take my new medication.
Although I had to ring the pharmacy first as I got told by the Dr that the tablet would come with a score in the middle to split in half. But it didn't, so I didn't want to risk taking it by slicing it in half with a knife as I know sometimes that breaks the chemical compound of the medication. But anyway they said it was all good.
The side affects haven't been too bad. Just a bit spaced out. The TV at one point did start to look like it was melting. But apart from that it's been manageable. I just have to remember to take everything as I have to take so much medication at certain times.
But yeah it's been a good day, I haven't felt particularly bad. But I know this is the first step of many. I know days won't always be as easy as this one. The new medication does have some pretty awful side affects. But if in the long run it stabilises my mood then I don't care if it destroys my liver or thyroid. I mean who needs them anyway!
So I'm sitting round my parents with Linda as they had us around for dinner. Which was nice. Although they keep looking at me weird as I'm writing this.
The unsociable bastard I am! Anyway Linda if you are reading this. Stop worrying about the side affects! I'll be okay.
Will update tomorrow. Hopefully Wales will have lost the rugby and Casulty will be a good episode tonight!
Glenn
Friday, 9 October 2015
So here it goes
So today is the day. What day you may ask? The day my medication changes. It may not seem like a big deal. But it is, anyone who has been on medication for a long time knows that any tweaks to it fuck with your body.
I am sat here after I had to have a baseline bloodtest, the reason for that is the new medication I am going on can fuck with your liver and thyroid. So I have to have regular blood tests to make sure that doesn't happen.
I know the next few months are going to be a fuckfest of roller-coaster emotions. It is bad enough having just one of your medications tweaked, but when literally all of mine are being adjusted and I am starting on a new one. It is going to be fucking hard. So apologies to my friends and family if I just shut down and go into zombie mode. Or the opposite may happen and I'll be thinking I'm Jesus or something.
But it is Friday (Fuck me remembering what day of the week it is) and I have made it to the weekend. I had a lot of hugs from people today. Which I enjoyed. Random acts of kindness from people, it honestly does go a long way.
I know I am going to have some pretty dark days over the next few months whilst my body adjusts to the changes that is being forced upon it. But it will be for the greater good and all that I hope.
I am going to be doing a new rating system I'm calling it the "fucked" system so from 1 - 5. 1 being I am totally fucking fucked and I can't fucking be bothered to 5 being fuck yeah I am fucking jesus and I am your lord.
So I would say I am around about three at the moment...which is kinda like fuck yeah weekend is here...but fucking hell Glenn you fucking dick you are going to be taking medication which is probably going to give you side affects.
I am not going to look at what side affects as I kinda got put off when it said it can cause proper bad blisters. I really don't want to look like something that has escaped from a nuclear fucking fallout.
Anyway people, have a good weekend. I shall update this tomorrow to let you all know how I am getting on with day 1.5 of new drug day (it starts tonight)
Glenn
x
I am sat here after I had to have a baseline bloodtest, the reason for that is the new medication I am going on can fuck with your liver and thyroid. So I have to have regular blood tests to make sure that doesn't happen.
I know the next few months are going to be a fuckfest of roller-coaster emotions. It is bad enough having just one of your medications tweaked, but when literally all of mine are being adjusted and I am starting on a new one. It is going to be fucking hard. So apologies to my friends and family if I just shut down and go into zombie mode. Or the opposite may happen and I'll be thinking I'm Jesus or something.
But it is Friday (Fuck me remembering what day of the week it is) and I have made it to the weekend. I had a lot of hugs from people today. Which I enjoyed. Random acts of kindness from people, it honestly does go a long way.
I know I am going to have some pretty dark days over the next few months whilst my body adjusts to the changes that is being forced upon it. But it will be for the greater good and all that I hope.
I am going to be doing a new rating system I'm calling it the "fucked" system so from 1 - 5. 1 being I am totally fucking fucked and I can't fucking be bothered to 5 being fuck yeah I am fucking jesus and I am your lord.
So I would say I am around about three at the moment...which is kinda like fuck yeah weekend is here...but fucking hell Glenn you fucking dick you are going to be taking medication which is probably going to give you side affects.
I am not going to look at what side affects as I kinda got put off when it said it can cause proper bad blisters. I really don't want to look like something that has escaped from a nuclear fucking fallout.
Anyway people, have a good weekend. I shall update this tomorrow to let you all know how I am getting on with day 1.5 of new drug day (it starts tonight)
Glenn
x
Thursday, 8 October 2015
Lack of energy
I'm tired. Exhausted tired. I know I'll have nightmares. 30 years old and I hate going to sleep because I have these awful vivid nightmares that for that moment you wake up you think they are real.
This is my life. Work,sleep and worry.
A normal day.
After posting my first ever grown up adult blog about my depression, I was worried to what the reactions would be to it.
But the amount of love and kindness that has been shown to me has been overwhelming.
Although it did make my wife cry. I think it was because I find it easier to type and write down how I feel then actually talking about it to anyone. I mean right now it feels like I am talking to myself, which I am okay with. It is one of the signs of madness but I think I passed that line a long time ago.
But she was crying because she felt sadness at how depression affects me. One of the reasons I don't tell her how bad or crappy I am feeling is that I generally have this amazing rule in my life of if I don't talk about it or ignore it then nothing will happen. Which clearly it doesn't. It is like when you are a child and close your eyes and you think you are hiding from the world, when in fact the world can still see you. I guess I also don't tell her because I want to protect her. I mean I struggle with the fucked up emotions I feel so I feel that other people won't be able to understand. I don't want to feel the guilt. Or the other person to.
Today has been what I would class as a normal day. A functioning day. The easiest way to describe my emotions is it is like I am on auto pilot. I can go through the functions of getting up for work and going to work and doing the whole "yeah I am doing okay thanks" to customers and work mates.
I mean when you are at work and someone asks how you are, you can't really go into detail about how insignificant you feel. I always find myself competing with other people. Over Facebook, Twitter and what have you.
I look at people with good jobs and nice cars and then I look at my moped (yes I am 30 and I have a moped) which doesn't even start so at the moment it is more of a stand. With various boxes around it. Surely at the age of 30 I should have a career and a car.
Is that human nature or is that my depression. Because maybe if I had those things I would still be competing against myself . The problem with competing against yourself is that you will never win. You will always finish last.
I mean I love cycling, it is one of those things I can just do. I mean I am good at cycling. I don't fall off my bike or anything and I can do some serious miles if my mind is set on it. However I punish myself, I do not cycle to enjoy it anymore, I cycle the same route and time myself. With each ride I have to beat my previous time and I maybe taking as many drugs as Lance Armstrong but of course when it is pissing down with rain and your cycling into a headwind your not going to do as well if it is a sunny day with the wind behind you. But oh no, depression doesn't work like that. Depression takes the joy out of it and turns it into some sort of battle royale against yourself. So then I stop cycling then I feel shit about not cycling. But then if I start cycling I will start punishing myself for not beating my times. So it is a circle of constant negativity
But today was better than yesterday, but that doesn't mean tomorrow will be. It really is a case of living day by day. Which is shit. It is now way to live. All I want to do is finish work and hide from the world and not go out. Which then isn't fair on my wife. Because for some weird reason she enjoys going out with me. I mean out, where there will be other people who I automatically assume will be looking at me and judging me. I know that sounds fucked up, like one of those crazy people that wrap themselves in tinfoil because the government is out to get us.
I have the Dr's tomorrow which I look forward to and dread in equal measure. I mean I look forward to it because it means I am taking another little step towards becoming better but it also means I am back at the Dr's again, I mean the smell of the place, the look of death on peoples faces who are waiting to be seen. When your name flashes on the screen it is like the Grim Reaper has called you. Tomorrow could be the start of where my medication all starts to change if so I have to mentally prepare myself for whatever side affects are about to be thrown my way.
I am not going to kid myself and think it is going to be a walk in the park. I am going to be taking a pretty fucking lethal new medication which fucks with your kidneys and thyroid. But hopefully it'll stop the depression. I don't drink so hopefully the kidney thing will be okay and the thyroid thing will either make me loose weight or put some on. I am hoping for a weight loss. That would be pretty cool.
They are also cutting down on my other medication, which means my body is going to get major withdrawal symptoms but I know I have to push through it. Or at least try to. It scares the shit out of me. I take so many drugs my body and brain are already fucked so I can't really do anymore damange to them.
Anyway happy Tuesday... see that happens a lot. My short term memory is crap.
Happy Thursday.
Glenn
But the amount of love and kindness that has been shown to me has been overwhelming.
Although it did make my wife cry. I think it was because I find it easier to type and write down how I feel then actually talking about it to anyone. I mean right now it feels like I am talking to myself, which I am okay with. It is one of the signs of madness but I think I passed that line a long time ago.
But she was crying because she felt sadness at how depression affects me. One of the reasons I don't tell her how bad or crappy I am feeling is that I generally have this amazing rule in my life of if I don't talk about it or ignore it then nothing will happen. Which clearly it doesn't. It is like when you are a child and close your eyes and you think you are hiding from the world, when in fact the world can still see you. I guess I also don't tell her because I want to protect her. I mean I struggle with the fucked up emotions I feel so I feel that other people won't be able to understand. I don't want to feel the guilt. Or the other person to.
Today has been what I would class as a normal day. A functioning day. The easiest way to describe my emotions is it is like I am on auto pilot. I can go through the functions of getting up for work and going to work and doing the whole "yeah I am doing okay thanks" to customers and work mates.
I mean when you are at work and someone asks how you are, you can't really go into detail about how insignificant you feel. I always find myself competing with other people. Over Facebook, Twitter and what have you.
I look at people with good jobs and nice cars and then I look at my moped (yes I am 30 and I have a moped) which doesn't even start so at the moment it is more of a stand. With various boxes around it. Surely at the age of 30 I should have a career and a car.
Is that human nature or is that my depression. Because maybe if I had those things I would still be competing against myself . The problem with competing against yourself is that you will never win. You will always finish last.
I mean I love cycling, it is one of those things I can just do. I mean I am good at cycling. I don't fall off my bike or anything and I can do some serious miles if my mind is set on it. However I punish myself, I do not cycle to enjoy it anymore, I cycle the same route and time myself. With each ride I have to beat my previous time and I maybe taking as many drugs as Lance Armstrong but of course when it is pissing down with rain and your cycling into a headwind your not going to do as well if it is a sunny day with the wind behind you. But oh no, depression doesn't work like that. Depression takes the joy out of it and turns it into some sort of battle royale against yourself. So then I stop cycling then I feel shit about not cycling. But then if I start cycling I will start punishing myself for not beating my times. So it is a circle of constant negativity
But today was better than yesterday, but that doesn't mean tomorrow will be. It really is a case of living day by day. Which is shit. It is now way to live. All I want to do is finish work and hide from the world and not go out. Which then isn't fair on my wife. Because for some weird reason she enjoys going out with me. I mean out, where there will be other people who I automatically assume will be looking at me and judging me. I know that sounds fucked up, like one of those crazy people that wrap themselves in tinfoil because the government is out to get us.
I have the Dr's tomorrow which I look forward to and dread in equal measure. I mean I look forward to it because it means I am taking another little step towards becoming better but it also means I am back at the Dr's again, I mean the smell of the place, the look of death on peoples faces who are waiting to be seen. When your name flashes on the screen it is like the Grim Reaper has called you. Tomorrow could be the start of where my medication all starts to change if so I have to mentally prepare myself for whatever side affects are about to be thrown my way.
I am not going to kid myself and think it is going to be a walk in the park. I am going to be taking a pretty fucking lethal new medication which fucks with your kidneys and thyroid. But hopefully it'll stop the depression. I don't drink so hopefully the kidney thing will be okay and the thyroid thing will either make me loose weight or put some on. I am hoping for a weight loss. That would be pretty cool.
They are also cutting down on my other medication, which means my body is going to get major withdrawal symptoms but I know I have to push through it. Or at least try to. It scares the shit out of me. I take so many drugs my body and brain are already fucked so I can't really do anymore damange to them.
Anyway happy Tuesday... see that happens a lot. My short term memory is crap.
Happy Thursday.
Glenn
Wednesday, 7 October 2015
Depression
Hey,
My name is Glenn I suffer from Bi-Polar. It is quite a surreal experience writing those words and seeing them on the screen. Just two little words "Bi-Polar" I mean if I said "Polar Bears" that would of been quite cool. Although I am not sure how one would suffer from "Polar Bear"
I'm just like every other 30 year old. I am married. I have a job. But I also have this demon inside of me. Never knowing when it is going to explode and try and fuck up my life again.
I am quite open talking about depression, but I detach myself from it when I am talking how it affects me. So I am going to give that a try.
My first serious bout of depression ensured that I spent a few days in the local Mental Hospital. Looking back it was such a surreal experience. I didn't really pay much attention to what depression was or how it affected people. I grew up around depression, not saying my childhood was this cloud of depression but that my Mum had it due to without doubt the most horrific childhood that you can't even imagine or would want to imagine. But that didn't stop her from being a wonderful Mum and staying strong through the tough times we went through as a family. People wouldn't really be able to tell what demons my Mum faced or is still facing. She is the glue that holds the family together. My Dad who was until recently in the RAF (happy retirement Dad!) has this strength of character that I wish I had. Whilst he may not show his emotions. He has picked not only myself up, but the whole family up in times of crisis. He never spoke about work (even though he was a highly ranked non commissioned officer) so we as a family can only imagine the responsibility he had. But he never put that burden on the family. So if my Mum is the glue, my Dad is the rock. So I had a good upbringing. Even though it involved lots of moving about, my parents couldn't of done anymore for me than they did and still continue to this day. Without their support and love over the last few years. Things would probably be a lot different for me.
Onto my wife Linda. I really have no words that can express or justify how I feel about her. Even though I have done things that really do not deserve her love. She has always been by my side. It can't be easy for her. To watch me spiraling into the black hole that is depression. Not only does she have to deal with me, but whatever problems she may have, she can't then share those with me as she doesn't want to burden me. I struggle sometimes to understand and accept how people can care about me and love me. That is what depression does to you. It takes any joy and happiness you may have and just shits all over it. It is just like a constant nightmare that is on repeat. So to my wife Linda. All I can say is thank you. Words cannot justify how your strength and love has pulled me through some of my darkest days.
Anyway getting back on track to today. At the moment I am typing these words I am tired. Not your normal "I haven't had enough sleep" I am tired of knowing that at any point I have this ticking timebomb in my head that could go off and I am back in that dark place.
But yeah I have been okay for the last year. I had fallen into a nice groove. I was a changed person. I was very much more laid back and more attentive and appreciative of what I had. Then a few months ago, I just started to feel really tired. I was constantly falling asleep. So I thought it was due to the amount of medication I was on. So I went to the Dr's and after a year wait I finally had my referral to getting a mental health worker called Hannah who has been pretty fantastic so far. So we tried to tweak my medication but every time we did. I just had severe withdrawal symptoms. So you have to make a choice. Do I stay tired but with less chance of a relapse or do I start tweaking and there is a bigger risk of me falling into the pit of shitness.
Well anyway I had that choice taken out my hands, I know my warning signs now. The thing with the warning signs is that you are playing russian roulette. It is almost a catch 22 situation. You link the warning signs that YOU will then suffer a relapse when of course it is quite possible you won't. But depression doesn't give a fuck about that. It just keeps telling you over and over that it is coming back to get you. That this could be the day.
I knew I had to seek help as soon as possible when last Friday, when I had fallen asleep without taking my medication. Woke up at 4am in a state of panic and feeling like utter shit and took some diazepam to calm me the fuck down before I had to get up for work at 6am. But I couldn't do it. The bastard had won it's first little battle. I had to phone work to tell them I couldn't make it in (well at least that is what I thought I said) to be honest I was all over the place so I could of easily of said I had been run over by a magic carpet.
So that weekend all I could think about was that it had come back. It was coming back and it was going to fuck me over. I just wanted to give up, I do not have the energy in me to beat depression again. It is a huge mental fucking struggle. Not only for you, but those around you. You feel this sense of guilt and shame. You think to yourself that you can't put your loved ones through this again.
Luckily by chance I had an appointment that was booked a month ago to see a shrink with the aim of cutting down my medication. But it turned out to be a different appointment. It was me looking into the eyes of the Dr and begging for his help. Telling him that I can't be dragged down again. That my life can't consist of feeling okay then periods of fucking shite.
The Dr swore. I liked the fact he swore. He apologised that in his eyes I had been let down by the system. He explained that I had the crap version of bi-polar where instead of having highs and lows. I just have a level where I can function where I won't experience much joy or happiness but I will experience the fucking lows. The problem was that with my previous bouts of depression they just throw drugs at you. He said that is fine short term but clearly it is like trying to fix a broken leg with a plaster. It is no good throwing tablets at me if I am still going to feel like crap. They need to try and find the cause of what causes my low moods.
So the next few months are going to be tough. My medication is being changed left, right and centre. I am going to taking a new drug which hopefully will pick up my mood and keep it stable. The downside being that it is pretty lethal and I have to have blood tests and all sorts before I can take it. And of course taking any new medication you have side affects and throwing in the fact that they are making adjustments to the medication I am on now. It means I am going to have some very interesting days. I admit that during the session with the shrink that I cried. Not out of sadness but out of hope. Everything I had gone through previously he had a reasoning for. The fact my bouts of depression where getting shorter in length between each one and the fact that he told me that not only does he want to get me out the rut I am in now, but that for a better phrase he wants to try and help me to the extent that hopefully I won't experience another bout of depression.
He then insisted on meeting my wife who was patiently waiting in the car for me. He told her what was going to happen which I think my wife found reassuring.
There is still a massive stigma attached to mental illness and it is a bastard to treat. Like the shrink said yesterday if I had a physical condition that kept on flaring up they would find the cause of what was causing it. But with mental health it seems to be the case of just throwing tablets at people.
This needs to change, it is not the GP's fault. They do not have the knowledge to be able to offer the support I am getting and all they want to do is help. So they prescribe medication.
But there is hope, I am lucky enough to have great family support who will make sure that I keep my head above the water. I am lucky enough to be under the care of a Dr who knows what he is talking about and swears. I am lucky enough to have a mental health worker who although has to do the job with her hands tied behind her back makes herself available whenever I need her.
I feel no shame in admitting I suffer from depression. Why should I? If anybody judges me on having depression, they can literally fuck off. Nobody understands how the human brain so we will never understand depression fully. What we need is acceptance. There are people out there who are probably struggling with this burden and not sure what to do. They may even kill themselves. That can't happen in this day and age. How can be live in a country where we continue to let people kill themselves.
I will try and be updating this blog as much as I can. But I will fucking win. I will fucking smash the ball out the park. I will score that century. That hatrick. Depression can kill you or it can be the making of you. But I am going to fuck depression so fucking hard that I will leave depression crying in the corner like the little fucking bastard bitch it is.
I just want to end with a big thank you. To everyone who has said kind words to me, who haven't judged me. To my family and friends. To my wife. My brother and sister. All the health workers and Dr's.
I want to get rid of the stigma of depression. It can go fuck itself. There is a light that never goes out. I will make sure that light always stays on.
If you have read this thanks for reading.
Glenn
(Bi-Polar and proud)
My name is Glenn I suffer from Bi-Polar. It is quite a surreal experience writing those words and seeing them on the screen. Just two little words "Bi-Polar" I mean if I said "Polar Bears" that would of been quite cool. Although I am not sure how one would suffer from "Polar Bear"
I'm just like every other 30 year old. I am married. I have a job. But I also have this demon inside of me. Never knowing when it is going to explode and try and fuck up my life again.
I am quite open talking about depression, but I detach myself from it when I am talking how it affects me. So I am going to give that a try.
My first serious bout of depression ensured that I spent a few days in the local Mental Hospital. Looking back it was such a surreal experience. I didn't really pay much attention to what depression was or how it affected people. I grew up around depression, not saying my childhood was this cloud of depression but that my Mum had it due to without doubt the most horrific childhood that you can't even imagine or would want to imagine. But that didn't stop her from being a wonderful Mum and staying strong through the tough times we went through as a family. People wouldn't really be able to tell what demons my Mum faced or is still facing. She is the glue that holds the family together. My Dad who was until recently in the RAF (happy retirement Dad!) has this strength of character that I wish I had. Whilst he may not show his emotions. He has picked not only myself up, but the whole family up in times of crisis. He never spoke about work (even though he was a highly ranked non commissioned officer) so we as a family can only imagine the responsibility he had. But he never put that burden on the family. So if my Mum is the glue, my Dad is the rock. So I had a good upbringing. Even though it involved lots of moving about, my parents couldn't of done anymore for me than they did and still continue to this day. Without their support and love over the last few years. Things would probably be a lot different for me.
Onto my wife Linda. I really have no words that can express or justify how I feel about her. Even though I have done things that really do not deserve her love. She has always been by my side. It can't be easy for her. To watch me spiraling into the black hole that is depression. Not only does she have to deal with me, but whatever problems she may have, she can't then share those with me as she doesn't want to burden me. I struggle sometimes to understand and accept how people can care about me and love me. That is what depression does to you. It takes any joy and happiness you may have and just shits all over it. It is just like a constant nightmare that is on repeat. So to my wife Linda. All I can say is thank you. Words cannot justify how your strength and love has pulled me through some of my darkest days.
Anyway getting back on track to today. At the moment I am typing these words I am tired. Not your normal "I haven't had enough sleep" I am tired of knowing that at any point I have this ticking timebomb in my head that could go off and I am back in that dark place.
But yeah I have been okay for the last year. I had fallen into a nice groove. I was a changed person. I was very much more laid back and more attentive and appreciative of what I had. Then a few months ago, I just started to feel really tired. I was constantly falling asleep. So I thought it was due to the amount of medication I was on. So I went to the Dr's and after a year wait I finally had my referral to getting a mental health worker called Hannah who has been pretty fantastic so far. So we tried to tweak my medication but every time we did. I just had severe withdrawal symptoms. So you have to make a choice. Do I stay tired but with less chance of a relapse or do I start tweaking and there is a bigger risk of me falling into the pit of shitness.
Well anyway I had that choice taken out my hands, I know my warning signs now. The thing with the warning signs is that you are playing russian roulette. It is almost a catch 22 situation. You link the warning signs that YOU will then suffer a relapse when of course it is quite possible you won't. But depression doesn't give a fuck about that. It just keeps telling you over and over that it is coming back to get you. That this could be the day.
I knew I had to seek help as soon as possible when last Friday, when I had fallen asleep without taking my medication. Woke up at 4am in a state of panic and feeling like utter shit and took some diazepam to calm me the fuck down before I had to get up for work at 6am. But I couldn't do it. The bastard had won it's first little battle. I had to phone work to tell them I couldn't make it in (well at least that is what I thought I said) to be honest I was all over the place so I could of easily of said I had been run over by a magic carpet.
So that weekend all I could think about was that it had come back. It was coming back and it was going to fuck me over. I just wanted to give up, I do not have the energy in me to beat depression again. It is a huge mental fucking struggle. Not only for you, but those around you. You feel this sense of guilt and shame. You think to yourself that you can't put your loved ones through this again.
Luckily by chance I had an appointment that was booked a month ago to see a shrink with the aim of cutting down my medication. But it turned out to be a different appointment. It was me looking into the eyes of the Dr and begging for his help. Telling him that I can't be dragged down again. That my life can't consist of feeling okay then periods of fucking shite.
The Dr swore. I liked the fact he swore. He apologised that in his eyes I had been let down by the system. He explained that I had the crap version of bi-polar where instead of having highs and lows. I just have a level where I can function where I won't experience much joy or happiness but I will experience the fucking lows. The problem was that with my previous bouts of depression they just throw drugs at you. He said that is fine short term but clearly it is like trying to fix a broken leg with a plaster. It is no good throwing tablets at me if I am still going to feel like crap. They need to try and find the cause of what causes my low moods.
So the next few months are going to be tough. My medication is being changed left, right and centre. I am going to taking a new drug which hopefully will pick up my mood and keep it stable. The downside being that it is pretty lethal and I have to have blood tests and all sorts before I can take it. And of course taking any new medication you have side affects and throwing in the fact that they are making adjustments to the medication I am on now. It means I am going to have some very interesting days. I admit that during the session with the shrink that I cried. Not out of sadness but out of hope. Everything I had gone through previously he had a reasoning for. The fact my bouts of depression where getting shorter in length between each one and the fact that he told me that not only does he want to get me out the rut I am in now, but that for a better phrase he wants to try and help me to the extent that hopefully I won't experience another bout of depression.
He then insisted on meeting my wife who was patiently waiting in the car for me. He told her what was going to happen which I think my wife found reassuring.
There is still a massive stigma attached to mental illness and it is a bastard to treat. Like the shrink said yesterday if I had a physical condition that kept on flaring up they would find the cause of what was causing it. But with mental health it seems to be the case of just throwing tablets at people.
This needs to change, it is not the GP's fault. They do not have the knowledge to be able to offer the support I am getting and all they want to do is help. So they prescribe medication.
But there is hope, I am lucky enough to have great family support who will make sure that I keep my head above the water. I am lucky enough to be under the care of a Dr who knows what he is talking about and swears. I am lucky enough to have a mental health worker who although has to do the job with her hands tied behind her back makes herself available whenever I need her.
I feel no shame in admitting I suffer from depression. Why should I? If anybody judges me on having depression, they can literally fuck off. Nobody understands how the human brain so we will never understand depression fully. What we need is acceptance. There are people out there who are probably struggling with this burden and not sure what to do. They may even kill themselves. That can't happen in this day and age. How can be live in a country where we continue to let people kill themselves.
I will try and be updating this blog as much as I can. But I will fucking win. I will fucking smash the ball out the park. I will score that century. That hatrick. Depression can kill you or it can be the making of you. But I am going to fuck depression so fucking hard that I will leave depression crying in the corner like the little fucking bastard bitch it is.
I just want to end with a big thank you. To everyone who has said kind words to me, who haven't judged me. To my family and friends. To my wife. My brother and sister. All the health workers and Dr's.
I want to get rid of the stigma of depression. It can go fuck itself. There is a light that never goes out. I will make sure that light always stays on.
If you have read this thanks for reading.
Glenn
(Bi-Polar and proud)
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