mystory

I sought help through the local hospital crisis response team, I was teamed with a therapist and sent to a psychiatrist for evaluation.  My therapist was wonderful and helped me deal with many demons still haunting me from my childhood and teenage years, but the depression lingered.? the psychiatrist just looked at me and simply stated "you know you are depressed" right? I didn't know what depression really was at that point. He gave me Zoloft and sent me on my way.

Years passed and I managed to get back to work and just take the small dose of Zoloft, but I did not feel truly well, I battled in silence to cover the weakness that I believed I was built of. Finally I broke, I lost everything including any last thread of sanity I had. I felt alone, worthless, weak and could not dig myself out of the black hole that defined my life. I tried to take my life that summer of 2000, I was dealing with a failed relationship, a job that drained me and a great desire to simply "rest." I felt no fear when I did this, I took comfort in the fact that I was ridding the world of a useless thing and finally ending my agony. This, however did not prove successful. I was saved from myself and taken to the hospital where I was kept only three days until my psychiatrist sent me home with no follow up.
I was alone again.

I took it upon myself to abandon the person I was and build a wall that was to be my barrier to the world, a fa�ade of strength. I met a new and exciting man, quit my job and took off to the big city where I thought I would find answers to my many questions. I wanted so badly to fit in somewhere. I could not have been more wrong. The city almost killed me. I became addicted to prescription painkillers, they helped me tolerate my life and the people around me because I grew more and more restless, anxious and fell deep into depression. I was admitted to the hospital again, my depression needed to be addressed and so did my addiction. It was a horrible ordeal, I was treated like a prisoner, some sort of lower life form. My assigned doctor was a mean spirited man with no compassion or care for his patients, he is the only doctor that ever made me cry. I was happy when I was discharged. I came out clean but my mind was still very much a mess. I ended my relationship and left the big city to go back to my hometown and live with family. After a few months I rekindled the romance with my city man and within a year I moved back to the city, found a good job and moved in with my boyfriend. It did not last long. I fell apart, all I wanted was to be in bed and hide from the world. My job caused me no stress and I loved what I did, but I would literally sit and my desk and stare off into space, lost, unable to concentrate. I admitted myself to a hospital in Mississauga, I could not go on living that way, suffering these terrible attacks of anxiety and trying to find reasons for them. I spent three weeks there and received help that I never thought I would find. Many ghosts from the past came back to haunt me while I was there and I made connections with my past and present that I came to realize were the culprits for many of my anxiety attacks.; This was the end of my relationship, once my treatment was finished there I left and moved in with family once again.

Now here I am. My medications are sorted out but even today I still battle I moved far away from the big city, from family, from everything and everyone. I live day to day. I fight to get out of bed in the morning, but I do. I hardly leave the apartment that I have come to call home because I just cannot bring myself to, I really don't understand why. I have a loving man at my side that simply accepts me just the way I am, for who I am and offers me love and support. I do not work, I am fighting to get disability because I want to break the cycle of going from job to job, losing one after another because of my illness.

When I look back, I spent my entire teenage life being depressed. It is hard enough to be a teenager, being depressed just made it all worse. I left myself open and vulnerable to vultures that took advantage of my weaknesses, they have left their scars upon my soul and to this day I struggle to accept that I allowed myself to be a victim. I wish the help that I received during my last hospitalization was available to me when the depression first reared its ugly head and consumed my life, but it was not and I have picked up the pieces and moved on.

I am estranged from my family now, by choice. I am still close to my parents but my siblings deeply wounded me and I made the decision to let them go and live my life without them as a part of it. I miss my nieces and nephews, they are all beautiful children and I hope that someday they will want to get to know me again.

For now, this is where I am. I do whatever I can to stay well and stop myself from falling back into the hole. The medications have made a dent, more so than any other I have taken, and I have started to take up old hobbies that I abandoned so long ago. I want to rediscover myself. My life has been a precarious journey and I don't know how long it will last for me, so best I make it beautiful and live each day to it's fullest.

My story....where do I begin?

My Story

I was barely 21 when depression literally took over my life, every little thing in life that happened seemed to affect me adversely and every battle from my past resurfaced with a greater pain than I had ever felt. I thought I was dying, I felt weak in spirit and could not understand why I would collapse at work and just turn into a mess of tears. It was confusing, to this day it still all feels confusing, but at least I have learned to understand what it is that I am up against.