Do it for you

I started this revival of my blog because I found some old blogs I had written in the early days of my downward spiral, before darkness had really set in and swallowed me up. I started those old blogs because I felt like I had something to say, and I wanted to share it.

It was mostly silly anecdotes and soppy notes about my new boyfriend (now husband may I add!) but the words were mine, and I enjoyed it. Some posts were explaining my plans for the week, for the summer, what I did on the weekend or some book ideas I tossed around for fun, with some character ideas and basic plots.

I am writing for my own enjoyment. In this modern age everything is for "content" and to get noticed online, and while spreading the word about mental health is not something I'd be mad about, I am not doing this for that end goal. I am doing this because I like the process, I like spilling my thoughts out onto the blank page like word vomit and opening myself up to my feelings for what feels like the first time in years.

The last couple of times I spoke with my therapist and tell her how she literally changed my whole perspective on life, she asks if she can share my thoughts on her page, as a testimonial for her services, and I am more than happy to oblige, because once she told me someone came to her off the back of my review and that almost made me want to cry. My words actually made someone make a choice to better themselves. My words pushed them to get the help they needed. That is something I would ever get bored of.

Being pretty empathetic, I enjoy helping people, I may not always be best placed to offer the advice, but I try and give what I feel is a good suggestion, or offer a sympathetic ear to their troubles. Other people's sadness fills me up and builds up so intensely it often makes me cry, or causes my chest to hurt like it's about to burst. I want to help stop their pain, because I truly know what it feels like to be hurting, and to feel like there's no escape from that. I would say that there is, it takes time, and it's a long walk down a dark and twisty road, but there's an escape if you're willing to trust the path you're going down.

I know for a fact now that the hopelessness is in your head, it's got nothing to do with anyone else. You control your own mind and can make the decision to tell those feelings to fuck off and you can continue to go down whatever path it is you choose to find happiness.

The decision is yours, no one can make it for you, even if they feel like they can influence you. They cannot force you, nor can they stop you. If you really want it, find a way through, and you must do it for yourself, not for anyone else. Don't do it for your husband, don't do it for your kids, don't do it for your mum or your sister or your dog. Do it because you want to be happy and you deserve to be happy. Once you do that, all of the others will notice and be grateful to have the real you. The rest will fall into place on its own.

I know this makes it sound easy, and I know it's not. I wanted to be happy, but I still regularly didn't take my pills, or faked sick to miss therapy sessions and lied to my boyfriend about it so he didn't worry about me. But back then, I didn't know what I wanted, I thought I wanted it, but I wasn't ready to dive into it, the memories were lost to me and it felt hopeless when I spoke in my therapy sessions (later finding out, they're not for me, and there are other options people!). I did it because I wanted my boyfriend to be happy, and not leave me. I was terrified he wouldn't want someone depressed and hurting him all the time, so I forced myself to go for fear of being alone otherwise. And I did that for years with no real results, only wasted time and an increased dosage of antidepressants.

Once I had my daughter, and my feelings really started to cloud my vision turning me into the darkest version of myself, I knew I needed to fix things. I knew the fighting needed to stop, I knew the rage needed to subside and I knew I needed to snap out of this and be a mother and wife. I wanted it. Truly, madly, deeply. For the first time I knew the outcome I wanted, exactly.

In my therapy, I described this outcome down to the last detail, and we worked towards that goal through my sessions, reminding me of why I was doing this. And it wasn't for my husband, it wasn't my daughter, it was for the version of me standing in the light, holding her head high, proud of where she is in life, confident in herself and just happy to exist - reaching out to pull me into the light with her. I knew that me would be better, I knew she would be able to fix all the other broken parts and piece everything back together. I knew she needed to come and take the wheel and steer me in the right direction.

And she did.