I've had a few really good days, then a few okay ones (my mother visited for a few days) and now i feel so low again. The good days its easy to think the 150g of meds daily are working... on the bad days it feels as if im not taking anything. On other days I get panic attacks and I have other meds for my heart palpitations.....which work better on a night when i get an attack than during the day.
I try hard to be positive and happy and find it easier to switch on for others but somedays I come home and find i feel empty and alone. Disconnected from everything and everyone. On the outside looking in.
On low days I feel fat and ugly and a failure which logically I suppose isnt unusual in depression, except ive felt this way my entire life... and Im 32 now.
Im now in a new flat with my 3 children, free of my 10 years to an abusive husband, my abusive mentally ill father is dead and the other family i have that always put me down no longer can be bothered to contact me. I see my mother every couple of years or so when she visits the UK. She visits for a few months at a time, 6 this time, and visits me usually for 2 or 3 days out of that.
Dont know why Ive always sought the approval of people like my family who could not be pleased. They always treated me like i wasn't one of them and now i find out about occasions or nieces and nephews getting married by accident or on a strangers Facebook.
And yet id still love one of them to say something nice or treat me like a sister or actual family member.
Im tried of being grateful for surviving abuse...i want more in life than just being grateful for being here. Is that wrong?
I enjoy spending my time on other people, spending years depressed i lost touch with everything i enjoy and my focus went from being a slave to an abusive husband, to focusing on my kids and someone i thought was a friend and turned out not to be. I like the way i feel when im doing things for people, like as if when i force myself to look happy for them i forget and soon i believe it. I like that they feel better or that i can help, I dont like seeing others in pain or upset... its hard to explain how hard other peoples sadness really upsets me. Its weird, like im feeling it.
I struggle with saying what i want out of life, like love and happiness and a nice home and long walks. I want to dance and feel lit up again. I want to enjoy tv and books and drawing and writing again... but I just dont. And i hate it when i say things like i love the glass that washes up on the beach when the rocks and sand and waves have smoothed them over. It reminds me of walking along the beach with my grandmother as a child and collecting the smooth coloured glass and shells.
I feel empty like I'm not a real person any more. I used to be so capable and busy and active... i was superwoman....and I know that when my brain is busy im happier. Like most of the women in my family we NEEEEED a project, something creative to do or make. I miss that part of me. The part that got passionate not just about people but things like films and places and quotes and mementos. One of my earliest film loves was as an 8 year old, it was the black and white version of Count of Monte Christo.
What is there in me to love when I am stripping myself to the bone... theres so little left of me... and I cant seem to get any of it back or see anything good left in myself. Maybe thats why no one else does either.
Defeatist I know..... I'm just swatting about in the dark for an answer or a direction and can step forward in.