I often sit and feel sorry for myself, its difficult to not think why me? What did I ever do to anyone to deserve the life I have been given. To the outsider looking in I have it all, six beautiful children, a loving husband, a nice home and friends and family. What nobody sees are the demons inside my mind.
I still don’t talk openly about my mental illness, mainly because I still do not understand it, some days I feel human and some days I don’t. There is and always will be a stigma attached to mental illness.
I don’t remember when it started, when did I live a life without depression? After trying to take my life at the age of thirteen I was assigned my first psychologist, the age my eldest daughter is now and that frightens me.
All I know is it haunts me, a dark cloud looming over my shoulder just waiting for its chance to pounce, Then it over shadows me, draws me in so deep that the clearing is masked over, no way to escape. Once in its clutches my days darken and my mood sinks deeper and deeper.
Depression is a curse, once you have it, it never truly goes away. It lingers there in the background just waiting.
I would like to say I accept who and what I am, a manic depressive, yet I still fight to make it go away. I don’t want this disease and that’s how it feels to me, its a nasty disease eating away slowly at my insides.
It robs me of so many things, it steals my confidence and my desire to achieve. It tells me I am a crap mother and my children would be better off without me in their lives, it tries to destroy me.
I fight it, each time I fight that little bit harder. Its exhausting, some days it wins and some days I win, either way its a constant battle.
They say everything happens for a reason, so what reason is their for me being mentally ill? The medication masks the pain, looking at me you would never know, yet inside I hurt. I want to be free, I don;t want to hurt any more. I want to live a life without mental illness, yet its who and what I am and I must accept it.