I had made a very firm decision not to ever write a post about my depression in the sense of the negative impact it has on my life. I’ve never found it helpful to dwell on my condition and I certainly don’t ever want pitiful emotion tendered in my direction, because of it.
However, . . .
. . . I feel that just now, right at this moment, it would be appropriate to share. I don’t really know why.
Easily the worst thing about my depression is the strength of the negative voice in my head. We all have one, especially women. You know that voice that every now and then just drags you down?
Well my voice is so black that it drips as if covered in molasses or tar. It oozes the blackness. And every time it speaks, it’s voice is like a wooden baton that has a hundred sharp nails, points outwards. This baton hits the ‘mark’ every time it utters. With pinpoint accuracy.
Within seconds I am disabled and feel like a 5 year old girl with short blonde hair and three younger siblings behind me, and they’re all waiting for me to protect them from the oozing blackness, but I only have the strength to protect them or myself. I always choose them.
This black voice disarms me even during my strongest hours. When I have achieved and have allowed myself to bask in even small glory. It will utter a simple and curt few words, and I will once again be five years old and powerless.
At the moment I am trying SO HARD to build my business and create a positive future for myself. I have spent an eon caring and nurturing others with no return – only rejection and heartbreak. I am prepared to start again – with no funds and no support. I am brave and strong enough! I am prepared to do this.
I just want the black voice with all it’s smelly and hot and sticky badness to leave me alone.
And it won’t.
Every morning I get up. I do something positive just for myself. Every day.
I have joined community groups, and have become more ostracised because I am too enthusiastic and gregarious – I’m too much! I have tried to be single and I have tried to be a partner. I’m alone in both! I’m alone now.
I won’t ever abandon the living – I’ve promised that I would not leave this legacy for my nephews (and now nieces). I truly won’t.
But I do wish I could disappear. That there was some manner in which I could exist invisibly, able to facilitate others happiness under an invisibility cloak. Passing on smiles and laughs anonymously.
I don’t know how to be nice to myself. Or kind. I don’t know how to quieten the black voice. Despite years of help** the black voice prevails and I am unable to sate or better it.
How can someone so incredibly inspirational and nurturing to others, be so condeming and damaging to themselves? Will I ever silence the black voice?
I just want to like myself. That’s all.
**Help is out there – I know I can seek assistance. I have had three amazing psychologists, an inspiring life coach and now have an incredible GP.