Thursday, 27 November 2014

Living With Depression

I KNOW I AM LATE, SCHNECKENS. SORRY, NOT SORRY.
Hello.
Yes, I am late. Today I had my political speech and I think I pulled it off. I mean, it wasn't the greatest speech in the world, but I'm sure it was good enough to tear down a wall...for a second time. Ah, I don't think I'm going to be tearing down walls for a long time after this!

I wanted to use this short time to discuss something that is cranking up the intensity in my life. The Depression. It's no secret that I have been finding it difficult these past few months and even on medication and the start of treatment, it's still an uphill battle. Living with Depression is exhausting and even before you start to feel better, particularly in the early stages, you tend to find yourself having more down days than up. Whilst today was a good day, as was yesterday, my body and mind is completely exhausted and shattered. Even though that could be down to the extreme preparation to get this speech done, it cannot be ignored that my body physically can't take much at the moment. After my workshop, I got back to the flat around 7 and I found myself making the futile mistake of getting into my bed and sleeping. I woke up at 10, realising that I hadn't eaten and I had become incredibly weak; a frightening thing for a Diabetic. This whole week in fact has been poor on my Diabetes as I have not eaten probably since Saturday and haven't had a cooked meal since then. I just simply can't find the energy to cook something.

Maybe I just need to set goals, or maybe I just need to stay out of my bed; but how can I when I just feel so god damn tired and my bed is a safe haven. Depression isn't just a mental illness, it's also physical and I realise that now. When I look at myself in the mirror, I see the Depression in my face; I look shattered all the time and I feel it all the time. Some days I can forget I have it and I feel great, but then there's the mighty crash and it's back to the bleak reality that I'm living with something so horrible, but society brushes it aside because it's not something you can technically see. You can though. When you look in my eyes, they look tired. When you look at my smile, weak and weary, it's clear there's something more going on. When you walk past me, looking down and timid, my body is being dragged down by a powerful illness. So why do folk simply ignore it and tell the suffer just to get over it? It's not just a mental illness, it is incredibly physical too.

Toodles :)