Being hit by depression while you are on holiday, something you should enjoy and have looked forward to ever since planning, is the most horrible thing in the world. Last week I was in Istanbul for a week and I had to try really hard not to burst out in tears on several occasions. I was so enthusiastic to go and discover the Paris of the East, but feeling miserable myself, they seemed miserable too. Other tourists were amazed by the fantastic architecture, the long history and the culture of the Turks, but I got annoyed by the lack of cleanliness and the different view on sanitary hygiene.
I am not going through the best time of my emotional life and I find my day to day life hard to manage. Activities that I used to enjoy, I rather avoid and if I could I would stay in bed all day long, eat lots of rubbish and hide behind the television.
I used to love going down to Brighton a few weekends every month and spend time with my friends, but I actually haven’t been there since Germany took down the World Cup. I am dreading to go anywhere at the moment, I do if I have to but if I can avoid it, I will. Looking after two little ones, seeing their joy and laughter keeps me going and I am trying to cope.
I lost my best friend and while it had to happen for several reasons that I wrote about before and don’t want to discuss again, it is not easy. All the things that I would like to tell her about, I can’t. There is not really somebody I could talk to at the moment and it kills me from the inside. I want to tell people how I really feel and it is impossible, they would think I am crazy. Not many people in my life realise how difficult it is to live with depression. It is an illness after all, a very serious one. Only a few really understand how I feel and I am actually daring to say, that unless you suffer from depression yourself, you can’t never really understand what I am going through at the moment.
In March I stopped to take my antidepressants, my exams were over and I really wanted to try living without my daily dose of Fluoxetine. I felt fine between January and March, it was the perfect time for me to stop. It was wrong though, as much as I would like to live without antidepressants I can’t. The first month I was okay, but it just got worse and worse from month to month and now it is September and I feel horrible again.
I am trying to talk to my GP and discuss my options. I might have to start taking antidepressants again, but the thought of it makes me even sadder. I feel like I have failed again.