This is a blog about depression. If you are easily offended or take offence to my very sarcastic humour, please do not read any further. Mental illness is not a joke; it is not something to point fun at and I fully understand that. BUT…when the going gets tough, sarcasm and humour is my defence and so I will be parading it around all over this blog.
If you need help, please get it. Whilst I hope this has a happy ending, I don’t know yet and given I’ve not been able to fix myself, I really don’t want others using this as a ‘How To Be Happy for Beginners v2.0’
Thursday morning. I’m 31. Yesterday was awful but today is a new day. The problem is, yesterday being so awful took a lot of energy so today’s energy units are well and truly in the pits. I’m struggling. to even get up. I do though but it hurts. Physically hurts, that’s how exhausted I am.
I reach the sofa and tuck into a binge full of junk food. Well, whilst I am here, let’s keep on eating. If I’ve got no energy, a bucket load of refined sugar and carbs is definitely going to make this all hunky dory. This routine carries on for a couple more hours until I force myself up. The sugar has kicked in and I feel I can move, a bit. Right. This is it, I am going to get up and get moving (somewhat) Bedroom tidied and bed made? Check. Washing hung up (before it needs re-washing for a 3rd time)? Check. Nails clipped? Check. Fridge sorted (including having to throw away a shameful amount of food that’s gone off)? Check. Recycling sorted? Check. I’ve got a healthy supermarket shop coming tonight. I know you’ve read that before but this time, I am determined. I just need that determination to last please.
Wow, ok, that’s productive. Then, my buzzer rings. It’s as if my guardian angels know I need a bit of TLC. It’s a bouquet of flowers! They are beautiful and from some amazing friends. Oh, blimey guys, you have no idea how well timed this is. My friends are so incredible. They’ve all been so unbelievably supportive and strong for me. I wish I’d never needed this to happen for me to realise how loved I am though.
I’m getting an ear ache and the tooth that needs removing it hurting, a lot. Mouth ulcers added to the mix and all in all, I feel sorry for myself. I’m still in pjs too. But, I am looking at beautiful flowers and a beautiful orchid. Got to find the positives somewhere.
I am trialling the new to do list solution and, loathed to admit my mother is right, doing 30 minutes task of a task, then 30 minutes of something I want, and repeat. It’s working. The chores list is going down and the dot-to-dot connections are going up. I continue to binge though. It’s not pretty. However, after whatever large number of yum yums I’ve consumed over the last few weeks, I think I’ve done it, I think I’ve eaten enough yum yums that the thought of anymore makes me feel ill. Wow. Maybe the binging will stop.
I feel down but I have a friend coming around in a couple of hours for a takeaway and some bubbles to toast my birthday. I know what you are all thinking, after a day of binging is a takeaway sensible? Well the answer is obviously no however, it’s what I am going to do nonetheless.
The food shop arrives and I am looking at bags full of healthy, nutritious food. Tomorrow, I will start tomorrow. I know guys, I can hear you tut, I can see the rolling of the eyes. Just let me have the belief I’ll start tackling food tomorrow. It’s my birthday (yesterday) and I’ll have takeaway if I want to.
Back on the sofa and a few people are messaging me to see how I am getting on. One is a work friend. I know I am meant to be challenging this but I feel that I have to prove to her, my manager and the others who helped me get this help that I can do well and I was worth helping. The reply makes me cry:
You don’t need to prove anything to me or anyone else! We already knew you are worth all the effort in the world to help!
Oh wow, I needed that, more than I can explain.
Just as I am starting to feel the posisitvity sink in, my mum calls. My sister and her soon-to-be husband are having a wedding party when they get back from NYC. It’s friends only. No parents. Hence the eloping. Mum’s bright idea though is to turn up at the party and surprise them. For obvious reasons, she can’t. If she could have been there, then they wouldn’t have eloped in the first bloody place. I am going to have to deal with this but why, what can’t parents just be my bloody parents. Why do I have to sort this shit out? FUCKING HELL! Now I am stressed again.
Friend ML is going to be arriving shortly. I’ve not cleaned the flat. I am worried she’s going to notice and by noticing, will think less of me. I have managed to get dressed, only into a tracksuit and a Moomin t-shirt but it’s dressed nonetheless. The buzzer goes, this is it, I’m about to find out what happens when I don’t clean the flat…
Friend ML doesn’t say anything. Ok, has she noticed but not said it as she doesn’t want to upset me or has she not noticed? I’ll give it a bit longer just in case she’s not properly looked around.
I tell Friend ML about my mum’s call. She tells me it’s shitty but I am going to have to tell mum she can’t come. It’s not fair, especially with everything I am battling at the moment, but tell her I must. Damn you Friend ML, why are you right? We order takeaway and we pop the bubbles. Friend ML has presents for me. This is very exciting. Before I open those, I open the card. Friend ML, like all of my friends, is very talented. Her thing is watercolours and calligraphy. She’s made my birthday card and it’s a little picture of my cats staring at a ladybug. This is my cats favourite past time in the spring and usually leads to a few broken items as they leap around the place trying to catch them. I don’t read the card. I can’t incase I cry in front of her. Thankfully I’m saved by the bell and it’s burger time.
Sidenote: All my birthday cards, no scratch that. All bar my father’s birthday card have been to touching and thoughtful. Just to repeat it yet again, I really do have awesome people in my life.
Once we’ve eaten, I open my presents. Two more colouring books. One of which is a Moomin story colouring book. On the same day I’m wearing my new Moomin T-shirt (thanks Uniqlo order). Yay! This is terribly exciting. Then, Friend ML does something that I can’t thank her enough for. She tells me we are going to face my hoard of food and she’s going to take some away with her. This is huge. In so many ways. It’s huge because there is so much food, huge because this is humiliating, huge because I am going to have to lay bare my faults and huge because she’s being awesome.
We start in the spare bedroom. Everyone keeps food in their rooms right? First the wardrobe, then the bed (yes, the spare bed is covered in food), then the draws, then the bags on the floor. We move into the kitchen. Right. This is hell. I tell her I need her to leave some here. Taking it all feels too much and some things were gifts whilst in hospital. I give her full control, not something I would ever normally dream of. She can determine what’s ok to keep and what to take. Wow, I have a lot of food. 3 bulging bags later, we’ve done it. Friend ML needs to get a taxi now, due to the hoard, but it’s done. It’s leaving the flat. How do I feel? Relieved. Humiliated. Grateful. Sad. Ashamed. All rolled up into a ball. She’s also take the donut we ordered with the takeaway but left me with ¾ of one for tomorrow. I bin the chips and jumble up the rubbish. So, given I’m already feeling ashamed, time to admit I’ve fished food out of the bin before. Yes, bulimia and binge eating is not glamourous in any way. By jumbling the bin up, the chips are now intermixed with the antibacterial wipes and some snotty tissues. I draw the line at that. I won’t be tempted to reach for those now.
Friend ML left at 2315 but it’s now 0100 and I’m nervous to go to bed. I know why… I’ve just exposed how much food I was hiding, I’ve got to face everyone I told something dark too tomorrow at day care and I am confused at where some online orders have been delivered too. Friend ML hasn’t said anything about the uncleaned flat either. I finally crawl into bed and try to fall asleep. I’m dreading tomorrow.