War plans

Yesterday was my worst day since Joe was born.

On Wednesday night I spent the second night in a row dreaming about returning to work, my mind torturing me with all the things I'm trying not to think about. Such vivid and realistic dreams that my mood from them continued into my waking life - I woke up anxious, upset and as tired as if I hadn't slept at all.

My Health Visitor came to see me at 10am and I don't know where it came from, maybe it was the result of the feelings from the night overlapping into my reality but I started crying almost the minute she arrived and I couldn't stop. The floodgates opened.

My health visitor, as I've mentioned before, is fantastically warm and very easy to talk to and fortunately has a very good understanding of mental health issues. I spent more than an hour sobbing, sniffing and outpouring random thoughts and anxieties to her. Things I'd not mentioned before, things she'd never asked about and things I don't normally like talking about. It just came out. Maybe I've been holding it all in too long, perhaps the tiredness and emotional stress of having a newborn baby got to me, perhaps I am hormonal. Maybe all of these things.

Don't ask me if I feel better for it because I honestly don't know.

If nothing else it's always good to have a cry I guess. But I hate the feeling after I out pour my emotions like that. The feeling of embarrassment. The knowledge that I would have seemed totally crazy and the shame at all the things I talked about, it makes me cringe.

When I discuss my childhood issues, my previous episodes of depression and things raised in my previous counselling and therapy sessions, there's something about it that feels pretentious. I don't really know how to explain it, but I feel like whenever I talk to anyone about my issues with my upbringing and my incredibly low self esteem, they are internally rolling their eyes. That they're thinking things like 'we all have issues, get over it' or 'what a drama queen' or that I just want to label myself with something because I like the attention. In my mind, no one feels sympathy, everyone is just pretending to care. They can't wait for me to stop talking about myself and my problems.

I don't analyse myself and my past because I want a label, it's not that I want attention or sympathy - in fact more often than not I want the opposite. When I out pour everything like I did yesterday I think some of it is my way of thinking it through yet again, asking someones opinion. I want them to tell me whether I'm understanding myself and the situation correctly, I'm after validation of my thought process.

I mentioned in my last post how depression, for me, isn't just about winning the battle but winning a whole war. I think perhaps yesterday's outburst, and maybe even writing this now, is all part of the process to build my 'War Plan'.

Over the years I have tried all sorts; counselling, medication, therapy, and exercise, and currently I am in the process of trying out some hypnotherapy, my verdict on which it is too early to say. The rest have had varying degrees of success at the time I undertook them, but alas, none of them have prevented the Depression from returning, nipping at my heels until I trip up and fall into it's arms yet again.

That's my war, and I have to analyse, to over think and read into all my past problems and issues because I think it's the only way I can find out what started the war in the first place.  And subsequently the only way I can end it. For Good.

The Health Visitor wants me to ring the NHS Primary Care Psychological Therapies Service and arrange for some counselling. She believes just talking things through will benefit me but I'm not sure how I feel about this. I would be very keen to hear from any readers that have had any experiences of the service, either positive or negative?

It does feel like just another stranger to meet, another person to start from the beginning with again, to build up the courage to talk, to open up and not feel judged. It's so tiring.

Since this all started when I was 19, I have been encouraged to open up to more GPs than I can remember, several midwives, a mental health Nurse, a Mental Illness in Mums Specialist, a Psychiatrist, a counsellor, a private therapist, not to mention many well meaning friends. All with good intentions, all wanting to help me. But very few of them still involved in my life or my mental care now and the information provided to each one is rarely relayed to the one I see next, leaving me to re-explain, and them to re-analyse my state of mind.
Personally, I don't find recapping my life events and the things that have depressed me and cause me anxiety a very calming experience, so I think I am beginning to reject all the offers of help like this, not because I don't want to get better, but because as well meaning as they are, I'm not sure they are actually helping.

There are a lot of strong thoughts and comments on Social Media currently surrounding the topic of depression, and particularly suicide after Robin Williams' passing. A lot of them refer to the selfishness of suicide, the need to just 'ask for help' and some even go as far as to say people with depression 'want to die'.

Let me make this clear now dear reader, I do not want to die. Sometimes I want the way I feel to stop and sometimes it feels like death is the only way to make that happen, but I DO NOT WANT TO DIE. I am openly asking for help, support and friendship everyday via Twitter and this blog and I readily accept the advice and suggestions from my GP and other health professionals. But this help isn't a fix, asking for it hasn't made my depression disappear over night.
Have no doubt I want to win this war and perhaps the help I have asked for will assist me in doing so in time.
I am not weak and I am not giving up TODAY. But, if I did, it wouldn't be right of anyone to assume it was without trying, without asking for help and without consideration to others. What right does anyone have to assume that about Robin or anyone else who commits suicide?  Everyone's story is made up by a whole book, not just the last few pages.

I will think about the counselling this weekend and yeah maybe I'll give it a go because it certainly can't make things any worse, but it's not going to form my entire War plan. I don't know what that's going to look like yet...