There's not a huge amount that you know about me at this point, but I now know that some of the things I've seen, felt, and still feel, are things not everyone can talk about.
Recently, I've been inspired by Emma Louise. She spoke honestly about her pre-natal depression, and her ongoing depression. Emma is a strong mother who obviously loves her son Cameron millions, but still points out that having depression can make things that bit harder. Mental illness is still a taboo subject for most, and that is probably why very few people ever hear about our personal struggle, because we are scared of being judged too harshly. Someone I'm close to told me, during one of my worst spells, that "depression isn't even a real illness. Just cheer up."
This, inevitably, hurt me more and made me feel pretty stupid. It took me a while to get over that and just accept that everyone will always have their own view on these things. It's just completely absurd to me, but that's just me.
I was diagnosed with depression, after a series of psychologists and psychiatrists, at the age of 16. They gave me antidepressants, but I didn't take them.I didn't have the required level of patience to wait for them to work. I was self-harming at the time, because it was almost the only thing that made it feel better. I'd been cutting myself since the age of 13, and I couldn't stop. I did it so badly once that i ended up in the Royal Infirmary for the night. I stayed in a hostel at the time, and came back with a bandage on. One of my friends commented on it, and I just lied and said it was a sprain. I had to cover it up all the time, because the fear of being judged is always there.
I just drank all day, got stoned, cut myself and cried alot. This might seem a little bizarre to some people, but I knew not much else. I was at my lowest point.
There was a whole lot more to come my way before I could start to feel ok again, however. The drinking damaged my stomach, and I'll probably never drink vodka again. I have hundreds of scars, have seen many doctors, and have taken many pills.
In August 2009, I was finally given a correct diagnosis. I have Borderline Personality Disorder, which in short, makes the sufferer have quick mood changes, and a warped self-image among many other things. I am now on the correct level of medication, and I just have to take each day as it comes. I still get my really rubbish days where I just cry for completely no reason, but not as often now.
I'm not cured. I'll never be cured. But my illness isn't going to get the better of me like it used to, I just need to keep it under control. There isn't much else that can be done about it. BPD is a part of me, and I am no longer ashamed of it.
So I am sending my loveages to Emma, because although we've both been through different things in our lives, she has inspired me to get this out <3 xxx