I’ve been crawling through this site almost once a week for the last year or so now, I feel like I really want to get things off my chest but I suppose I never had the guts to just post my story even though it’s all anonymous and everything… But I suppose, at this stage, depression’s tearing up my life so much and I suppose I’m hoping it’ll make me feel better if I just… Say something…
I’ve had depression since I was in year 12, so I suppose, about 3 years now. At first I just pushed it aside as my having a bad disposition or some sort of attitude problem, but it’s escalated so much that I really can’t lie to myself anymore, fact is fact, I have depression. I’ve always been ashamed to admit it because of the stigma I associate with it; what with people “feeling sorry” for you and “pitying” you… It makes me feel less of a person than I already feel. I don’t even like talking to my best friends about it because of how ashamed I am. The only person who really knows everything about my depression is my boyfriend. My parents don’t know, or don’t want to acknowledge it. I’ve told my mum once before but she just brushed it off. I don’t blame her, I guess no one in my family wants to talk about depression ever since my uncle committed suicide after several years of depression.
My relationship with my parents is strained. My fault. Obviously.
This is probably due to the fact that I have a boyfriend against their wish. God this is a long story. My parents told me ages ago, I wasn’t allowed to have a boyfriend until a certain age; well, I’m not that age yet, but I’d like this boy for so long, got to know him so well and I just had to give it a chance, had to give it a go when the opportunity came or I’d regret it forever. Now, we’ve been together for over 2 years, I love him more than anything in the world. He’s the only reason I’m happy, or that I even smile anymore. He’s the only person who listens and he tries in every way to help me through my problems. I can’t even explain the effort he’s gone to researching ways I can get help without my parents knowing; separate medicare cards, free counselling services at university, offering to foot the bill for a GP. I don’t regret my decision. But at the same time, now I’m leading a double life.
I go home, and I’m my parents only-daughter, “single” apparently and working her arse off to bring home half-decent grades, relatively happy, loving life etc.
I go to uni, and I’m struggling with self-loathing, working to keep up a relationship, struggling with a suffocating apathy and disinterest to do with anything that requires more effort than breathing.
I probably don’t deserve to be in such a supportive relationship; it’s unhealthy that I’m sitting there wallowing in self-pity and depression and my boyfriend has to do all the “being strong and supportive” things… But he won’t leave even though he can do so much better than me.
I’ve tried going to counsellors and psychologists before; it’s never really worked for me. The first counsellor I went to didn’t really offer any ways of improving my situation, she was just good for someone to talk to. But free counselling services in uni only lasts 6 sessions which is nothing and no where near sufficient.
My second counsellor/psychologist didn’t understand the struggle I had with trying to keep up the relationship between my parents and myself whilst maintaining my own identity and making my own decisions and she constantly pressed me to change things I couldn’t change…
I suppose I’ve not really ever been suicidal, but self-harm and I, we’re acquaintances… It’s a weird sort of feeling, being so angry that you want a feeling that will equal that rage and helplessness to be tangible..
I’ve taken up too much space… This was a very long post…
Thanks for listening though, I really appreciate it
April 28, 2012