Please don’t read if you are feeling fragile.
It seems more and more people are opening up and talking about their experience of depression and anxiety, which is a really good thing. The fact that people can talk and get help is amazing.
For those with other less common mental illness however, the stigma is still well and truly there.
“According to new research out today, 27% of people with a less common mental health problem feel that discrimination against them has increased in the last 10 years.
The survey, published by mental health anti-stigma campaign Time To Change, shows that people dealing with diagnoses including schizophrenia, personality disorders and bipolar disorder feel like they’re being “left behind” by the mental health awareness movement.”(The Stylist, 2020)
People talk about suicide when it’s too late. They say no one should have to resort to suicide. They say “be kind”. But when someone with a serious mental illness speaks their truth, people don’t want to hear it.
My ugly truth
“I just want to die” has lost all meaning. I hear it tens if not hundreds of times a day. If he’s unlucky my husband will hear it too, but I try to keep it inside my head. At the worst of times my friends might hear it, sometimes even people on Instagram.
Sometimes I need to get it out of my head, and voice it aloud to take away the power it has over me. If I tell people then it’s harder for me to do it.
Do I actually want to die? Probably about 90% of the time I do, but in the small glimpses of calmness and stability, I absolutely love my life and I could be the happiest person alive.
Every day I wake up in severe pain from my endometriosis. The only thing I can compare it too is being in labour. Every single day. But you don’t get any good drugs, you don’t get an epidural and you don’t get the hope that it will all be over soon. It is hard to start off the day in a good mood when you feel like this. Most days I wish I hadn’t woken up.
I see my beautiful daughter that I waited years for and I am absolutely overwhelmed with love, but also overwhelmed with guilt because I don’t have the energy to do all the fun things I’d dreamed of all those years. In my head, when I finally had my baby my illness didn’t exist, we would go on so many days out, I would make the most delicious healthy meals, play all day and I would be the most fantastic mum.
I can’t believe I was so stupid. I’m tired, grumpy and absolutely terrified that she will end up feeling like I do. What I don’t want to do, is to lie or to teach her to hide her feelings. So we talk about how sometimes Mamma is sad, but that we can do something to feel better. We usually look out of the window and see what wildlife we can spot.
Most days I just simply have the voice in my head “I wish I was dead”, on the worse days my brain is trying to figure out a way out, and however much I try and practice self care, it’s in the back of my mind.
Today for example I have been constantly getting “you need to make a list of things that need doing when you die”, “you need to prepare everything so it isn’t hard for James”, “You need to empty the place of all your stuff so that it won’t be in the way once you are gone”.
It’s so constant it actually feels so much like a chore I procrastinate. It feels completely normal and isn’t shocking at all, and I think that is the problem.
Anyway, now you know how I feel and I’m sorry if it was difficult to read. I’m safe at the moment so don’t worry.