It seems to be the norm these days for tragedy to strike before action is taken, that treacherous part of the road you cross everyday, nothing ever gets done until a child is knocked down and killed. why does somebody always have to die before we listen up and make a difference?
On the 11th of August 2014 we tragically lost one of life’s true treasures, an inspiration, one of the worlds most naturally funny men, his comedy and delivery seemed effortless, his face beamed happiness, yet he was apparently suffering within. I obviously didn’t know him personally, I only hope his death was not in vain and that maybe others can be helped through his passing, their depression may not be conquered but to at least gather support would be something. I see many times how it damages people and I’ve heard the ridicule that the illness receives. I’ve witnessed the symptoms through family members, I’ve even felt its evil grip myself. The cause of my depression was related to medication I was taking and the symptoms subsided once I had finished the antibiotics, I understand that my suffering was different to most but if those feelings that I experienced are just even a fraction of what some people go through in their every day lives then I cant begin to imagine how they function every day, to feel sorry for them just doesn’t cut it.
I went through hell and back, I couldn’t leave the house, every time I tried I thought I had left my son on his own, I would check his bed meticulously. I once had to phone his school to check he was there, I pretended he’d felt ill earlier that morning and I was checking that he was OK, just so I knew I had taken him. However staying in the house wasn’t an option neither as I believed that somebody was trying to kill me, it even got the extremes of thinking that somebody was hiding in my attic. I used to think that someone was moving things around in my house to make me look crazy when actually it was me moving them and I just couldn’t remember doing it.
I’d made friends with some people through the Open University and I was planning on going to visit them, I’d even bought my train tickets, I then had to cancel at the last minute because I’d built up this whole scenario that they were going to hurt me and my son. I missed my best friends Hen Party because I could not leave the house. It was the most terrifying time of my life, I feared for myself and my son, my mind was filled with terror and suicidal thoughts.
Luckily I had a very supportive family and we came to the conclusion that it was down to my medication, once they were out of my system I began to feel so much better. Unfortunately not everybody was so willing to lend their support, my boyfriend at the time was horribly insensitive, at a time when I needed someone to rely on he showed me just how self centered and immature he really was, he told me he wasn’t there to babysit me. I am so grateful to my mum and dad for being there for me because I dread to think what would have happened had they not taken the time to be so caring and patient with me.
When I think back on it, it’s all too easy to focus on the negativity that I received from that one inconsiderate ignoramus, and I can still feel it, that dark grip that it has, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget that feeling but I know there is always someone willing to help, to lend a hand, an ear or a shoulder, even when you don’t want to talk because you simply cant there is always someone out there.
I know from personal experience how terrifying it is to admit how you’re feeling or the thoughts you’re thinking, I had visions of being sectioned or having my son taken away from, neither of those things happened. I went to see my GP, he referred me to a specialist and I met with him once or twice. I realise my case is completely different to most and every one is different and my depression was brought on by medication but the point I am trying to make is that help is out there, there is no quick fix, no miracle cure, as happy as I am now I still remember how low and dark it was and I doubt that will ever go away
This is the first time I have ever gone into as much detail about this with anyone, about how I felt and what happened. It is with the untimely death of Robin Williams that I feel it necessary to speak out and perhaps give someone else the strength, whose suffering is greater than mine, to also speak out. I implore you, please, there is always a way, something can be done, I know it seems like a vicious circle, or you may feel it’s too late, that simply is not true, please don’t give in.
(Sleep well Genie of the Lamp, let’s blow this Popsicle stand)