The last post

Thank you to the few people that’ve read this crap blog since I started it, over 2 years ago. It was never intended for anything other than an outlet for my depression. But in the 2 years following, so much has happened.

From what was a diagnosis of clinical depression, turned into suicidal episode that ended up getting me sectioned. I worry a lot of the time that’ll it happen again. That I’ll get to that stage in my depression where I’m so down, that nothing will able to pull me up. When I returned to work, 4 months later in April 2017 my manager asked me one simple question: why did I want to die. Because I’d had enough of being let down, had enough of life. Despite all the wonders and beauty that surrounds us, people will still hurt us. Sometimes, they don’t mean to, but when they do, it’s like having your insides ripped out and stamped on.

We’ve all been hurt, all had that unrequited love that you’ll never get over. But it gets tiring when you’re hurt, over and over again. Depression is hard enough to keep at bay sometimes in a happy relationship but when you’re starting out again, and the rejection hits, it’s absolutely crippling. You start to question whether or not you’re good enough for anyone, whether you deserve to be here and all those thoughts and doubts that plague you come rushing back and seep into the dark lonely corners of your mind.

That’s why it’s best to walk away sometimes. Leave the hurt behind before you realise that you’re going to hurt. But sometimes it’s too late and without noticing over time, you grow to care and realise how much someone means. And the hurt is already there. So as much it hurts, and it aches like fuck, you have to do what’s best for you.

Thanks for reading

@specsygurl

“Insert imaginative title here”

It’s about that time of the year where people ask astounded, in a rhetorical way, just where has the year gone. It’s almost November. This year can be marked for me, in losses. What a year for loss and what a relief it will be when this year is over.

It didn’t start great. One plus (which then ended in a minus) a new proper relationship, with a man without any complications. None of my usual cloak and dagger, under cover of darkness shit because that’s all I feel I’m worth. This was a man who actually could commit. Then the not so great. My mum, after a four year long battle, gave up her valiant fight against cancer. Four years. Four years of appointments, procedures, scans, ops, hopes, fears and tears, all over in a barely a breath. A horrific and horrendous night that will forever haunt me.

And mister businessman, at a loss of words, trying his best to comfort me, in an uncomfortable situation that he never asked for. That’s the thing with relationships, they test you at the most inconvenient times. And grief. Grief will do strange things to you. It will make you believe you deserve all the worst things that life can throw at you. It will test your relationship with everyone. Especially someone you’ve known for so little yet hold so dearly in your heart. 2 heartbreaks in one. Throw into the mix another complication in the form of an old colleague who just wanted fun, and believe me, fun is not the outcome you get. You get what you deserve and that’s the feeling of utter worthlessness.

So back to work. Far too soon. The curse of depression strikes again, but this time, our beloved colleague. A young woman with so much to live for but so little self belief that she took it upon herself to end her life at 38. After a shift at work, being her chirpy self, she went home, and hanged herself. I wasn’t on duty that day. I was home, grieving with my family, and now, her family had to grieve over her, for totally different incomputable reasons. I wish I could’ve been there. I wish I could’ve told her how much she was loved. I don’t know if it would’ve changed anything but I hope she’s found peace somewhere.

2 funerals down and I’m blindly navigating through the warmest summer I’ve known, trying to get my head around not being a carer anymore. It’s strange how when you have all the time to yourself after 4 years of no real holidays and when most of your leave is taken up with hospital visit, how guilty it makes you feel to go out and do things for yourself again. It’s surreal to have the time to do anything for myself now. The guilt is there. After waiting nearly 6 months for counselling, it couldn’t come at a better or worse should that be, timing.

Loss number 3. My brave, beautiful courageous cousin, has left this earth. On the day I should’ve gone to see him, I didn’t. Add that to the ever increasing pile of regret and guilt. He was 25. Sometimes I just can’t comprehend how cruel and evil this world is and why someone so full and love and positivity for everyone could be taken so young. Words fail me. I fail me.

So here I am, nearly November. Same job, same woes and same grief. Same fears and same insecurities. All that’s missing is the relationship. Perhaps it’s a good thing because I don’t have space in my head right now to have it messed with. I don’t have the energy to have my heart shattered only to then start the slow process of putting the pieces back together. That’s not to say that I don’t absolutely adore someone, someone who puts the light back me in. But it will end in my tears, and I just know that if I don’t walk away now, I’ll still be the same heartbroken, dejected pathetic idiot that I always am. Love eh? Sometimes it can mend a broken heart. But other times, it can completely destroy you.

Moral of the blog, if you think you’re going to get your heart broken, walk away. Life is heartbreaking enough without adding any unnecessary hurt. You can’t make someone love you, no matter how strongly you feel. Put on those walking shoes and walk away, girl.

@specksygurl