Talking with friends

A few weeks ago I had a bad night.

It had been a good day nothing bad had happened and I was ‘ok’. I guess that somehow makes me feel worse about what happened…

I had gone to bed and was watching youtube videos and looking on twitter. Then from nowhere this wave of negative emotion washed over me. I felt it soak into my pores. As the negativity, depression, anxiety, self hatred and sadness enveloped me I could feel a change and I knew what was about to come. In that moment I reached out a text my two closest friends who both know about my depression and the affects it can have. Having to ask for help sucked, it was another reminder that I couldn’t cope on my own, that I felt in someway reliant on someone else, this was another failure. Yet at the same time I was pleased, I had managed to reach out before things escalated. I had recognised the signs and shown some desire to survive this ordeal.

There were worse things on my mind though.

Fortunately one of them replied and we began to talk (via whatsapp). She wanted to call me, but I couldn’t talk, I couldn’t say the things I was experiencing out aloud. She asked a couple of times throughout our conversation if she could call, with I said no to, but she never pushed. It felt like she cared, and that she understood. I have spoken to her on two other occasions when I have been like this and she knows how I can start to spiral which may have been why she was worried, and I did. I felt a need to self harm, I had already started to lash out and hit myself. When I do this it is usually my head but can also be my arms and legs. There were worse things on my mind though. My mind had began a fixation with going downstairs and getting a knife and cutting myself. This thought became a powerful emotion and all I could do was try to stay in the bed. The bed that has too often become my attempted refuge from depression.

The depression is so raw in that moment.

Talking to her gave me something else to focus on, as I tried to ride the wave of emotion and self hate. We spoke about the feelings and emotions I was experiencing and about why this could be (admittedly my answers were probably very all over the place and nonsensical). In the moment it can be really hard to express what is happening and to be descriptive about it. However I find this is when I am most honest and open, with myself as well as with others. The pain, the sadness and anger, the…depression is so raw in that moment. Some of my own blog posts have been written (or at least drafted) in or just after those moments because I am more able to express and describe what is happening to / with me. Sure it doesn’t always make sense, but the chance to talk, write, draw whatever is a great way to get some of those emotions and feelings out of my body.

After about 60 – 90 minutes the emotions started to pass. I was exhausted emotionally, mentally and physically. I had hit myself a few times too. So yes, I was tired. I said thank you to my friend and told her I was going to sleep because I was exhausted and I didn’t feel anything other than tired. She was unhappy at first because I was alone and she wanted me to go somewhere or call someone that lived nearby. But she relented and told me to sleep and text her in the morning. She also said if I woke up in the night I had to call her. In that moment I was so very grateful to have a friend that was able to listen and kind of understand what I was going through. Talking about that time helps me to realise that when this happens again, and Im sure it will, it will pass. Furthermore I know whatever happens I have the support of some amazing friends to help me through. While in that moment I feel sadness at having to ask for help, I am pleased I have done it and will do it again. Became I am not my illness, it is a struggle, but it’s a struggle I am not ready to give up. I suppose it is about me realising that this depression is a sickness and asking for help is not only not a weakness, it is a strength.

Thank you for reading.

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