In light of September being Suicide Awareness month (even we are now in October!) I thought I would write about my, not so much a battle but my story.I was 14 years old when I took a trip to the doctors and heard the words “you are suffering from depression.” I was put on Floroxatine and had to take one a day. I was feeling low because I wasn’t doing very well at school, close family had moved away and I had fallen out with my best friend. The lead up to the doctors appointment was awful. I would cry at the smallest thing (I put it down to hormones!!), loose my temper really easily. I remember one day I got a hairband stuck in my hair and I completely lost it. I was screaming and crying, literally pulling my hair out. Worst of all, I put my parents through hell. Running away and telling them I didn’t want to live with them anymore. They eventually took me up to my grandad, who had recently moved to the isle of sheppy in Kent which was a 2 hour car journey. He was the one who convinced me to go to the doctors. My moods were up and down for years, on and off the anti-depressants. Then I became a mummy for the first time. Everything was fine until I moved out. I had become very close to my parents and even though I was ready to go, I was dreading being alone. My husband didn’t live with me yet so Poppy used to go to stay with him Monday to Wednesday. It used to break my heart every time she left and I missed her like crazy but it was good that she was spending time with daddy. For those three days I didn’t bother getting out of bed, I wouldn’t go out or see anyone. I became very very low. One day it just hit me that I couldn’t live like this anymore so I went to the doctors. I was diagnosed with post natal depression. Back on the tablets I went!! Things settled down again until I had my 2nd and 3rd baby. I had these two very close together. Being we still live in our 2 bedroom flat, we are very cramped. We are all on top of each other and have literally no space. The immense pressure to keep it tidy is getting too much. I cannot keep in top of it. Everyday is a struggle for us. I wake up every day feeling sick, difficulty breathing and feeling like something bad is going to happen. Anxiety is such a difficult thing to explain. I feel like I am failing my husband and my children because I can’t give them everything they need. Although the children are happy and healthy, I still feel they deserve that little bit more. My depression and anxiety has never been like this before. Although whilst writing this there are tears rolling down my cheeks, I am pleased to write that I do have a doctors appointment tomorrow. Hopefully I can get myself sorted out so that I can be the best I can be for my family. I hope this post reaches out to someone, even if it is just one person, to let you know you are not alone. Please do not suffer in silence. ❤️.
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