I am so incredibly thrilled to share today's guest blogger for Mental Health March, Lizzi of Considerings.
It has been my goal to touch on as many mental health issues during the month of March as I was able by reaching out to other bloggers.
The gratitude I feel toward Lizzi for this post (and part two coming later this week) is immeasurable.
One of the issues I hadn't considered, while preparing Mental Health March, is how depression embeds itself in the life of a child and grows with them. Lizzi's post has opened my eyes to a place I hadn't previously considered and WOW, what super powerful post!
Flashbacks to Another Me
Overnight, when I was seven, Depression
came to take over my world.
It belonged to my father, and it
swallowed him whole, tapping into many underlying parts of his story and
overwhelming him. But this is my story.
Overnight, when I was seven, I stopped
being a cherished daughter. I became a burden (dressed up in the heavy word
‘privilege’, which really meant ‘responsibility’). An irritation. Something to
be borne. Dealt with. Put in my place.
Over the ensuing years, I was crushed
under the weighty heel of Depression with harsh words and constant undermining;
used as an outlet to express some of the pent-up rage with a cruel double-tag
of goading into rebellion and sanction for my response. It was permissible that
way.
Daily, the idol of an unbroken marriage
was taken out, and we were all (in our ways) sacrificed upon its altar,
regardless of the fact that this – whatever it was – was the thinnest veneer of
‘How Marriage Should Appear.’ And yet it had others fooled, for we were
sufficiently cut off from socialization that very few knew what was going on.
And none of them knew how deep the rot
went.
It finally burst its seams and broke;
the false-god of marriage finally shown to be the charlatan it was, and it felt
like freedom.
But safety played her tricks, and
instead of relief, there was space to think – to be my own person – and having
never done this before (because victims don’t think – they are mindless
automatons of avoidance and self-protection), my mind was found wanting, and
Depression took hold there, too.
*flashback*
Standing in the kitchen, anger upwelling
within me at his harshness, finally snapping and responding to his jibes with
matched (and learned) viciousness, hoping to break him; hoping he’d snap; hoping
he’d hit so I could murder him and call it self-defense.
*flashback*
School, wishing I could join in, that
someone would talk to me. Hanging out in the same places with the same people
from habit, wandering constantly from one circle of closed backs to another,
remaining impassive but wincing inwardly each time the backs snugged closer
together as I approached. Ignored out loud.
*flashback*
Pain. Anger. Not eating. Anger. Control.
Abandonment. Anger. Over-eating. Merry-go-round. New friends. New fakes. Anger.
Hurt. Freedom. Inner prison. Anger. Angst. Self-doubt. No worth. Anger.
Blackness. Anger. Worthless. Anger. Useless. Anger. Pointless.
*flashback*
Trying to get the bus to college and
there’s a woman talking to the
driver, wearing bright colours with her grating voice and ridiculous hair, and
her face is sharp with make-up and scratchy in its expressions and I want to
hurt her. I want to make her stop. I want her to shut up, and the world to shut
up and everyone to STOPFUCKINGTALKING. I want a knife. I want to cut her. I
want her to bleed and plead and gurgle as she realises she’ll never make a
noise again. I disembark quietly and the air has turned to glue with rage, and
I can hardly move; it’s taking every ounce of effort just to walk forwards towards
the next bus stop. And I want to go back and find that bus and drag that woman
off and make her pay…
*flashback*
A leaf rolls past me, scudded by the
autumn breeze, and I freeze. Panic. Tremble inside. Because it’s found me.
They’ve found me. And they’re everywhere. What a fucking time to develop a panic about leaves. Because they’re not just
leaves; they’re another species and they’re following me, plotting. They want
to swirl around me and take me down. And they follow me everywhere, whispering
to one another about how they’re going to do it.
One landed one day, on the windscreen of
the car as we were driving, and it was trying to break through the glass to get
to me and strangle me, and I asked him to use the wipers to MAKEITGOAWAY
*please, please make it go away, Daddy just do this one thing for me…please*
And he laughed and left it there, murderous in its intentions, until I cried
and the panic started taking hold.
*flashback*
The anger is inside me. The rage is
there. Holding me down and making me sluggish. It’s poisoning me. It’s part of
me, because I’m poison. I’m bad and worthless and need to somehow be better.
Nicer. Kinder. Prettier. Thinner. Cleverer. Usefuller. More capable. More
confident. More worthwhile. But never valuable, because valuable is
unattainable. And the anger is in me, and it surges and surges and hurts me
from the inside. It hurts to carry it. It’s in my blood and it’s killing me. So
I let some out. And as it runs, the more it coats, the shinier that beautiful
red, the anger settles and my mind shimmers. Safety in Red. Red for danger. Red
for roses. Red for love. Red for Anger. I drip. I drip. I calm. I soothe.
*flashback*
Bang – bang – bang – bang – bang –
bruise – bang – bang –bang – 100 – bang – bang – bang – bump – bang – bang –
bang – 300 – bang – bang – bang – willIbreak? – bang – bang – bang – bang – can
I get to 1000? Will it help? Will it need medical attention? Will it just hurt
in the morning? Will it matter? – bang – bang – bang…
*flashback*
“Given the things you’ve been doing, and
the way you’re feeling, I’m going to recommend a course of anti-depressant
medication. You’re already receiving counselling, aren’t you? Keep going with
that.”
Anti-depressants? What? You’re not going
to diagnose me or lock me away or take me out of this – OUT OF THIS?! – you’re
going to leave me in the midst of this maelstrom, drowning, with nothing but a
few pills to fix things? Please, please don’t say it’s depression. No-one ever
gets taken away for depression. I need to be away. I need to be taken away. I
need to be locked up. I need to be made safe. I need not to be left. It can’t
be just depression, pleaseohpleaseohplease…
“In my professional opinion, it’s
depression.”
Ofuckno!
*flashback*
“It’s really good that the tablets are
helping you so much. And remember, whatever you’re feeling, because of the
things in your history, it’s all so completely explainable. All of it. Stop
beating yourself up for feeling it.”
EXPLAINABLE?!
Fireworks. Brain spark. Neurones connect;
finally – it’s Not. My. Fault.
It’s explainable. The explanation is outside of me not IN me. It’s not me.
It’s not me. It’s NOT ME!
Breakthrough.
Twelve years after Depression first
entered my life, and perhaps eight after it entered my soul, it began to leave.
I began to heal.
But it was the start of a long road, and
Depression wasn’t done yet.
~Lizzi
Lizzi
is a Deep Thinker, Truth Teller and Seeker of Good. She works a normal job and
has a secret life as the writer at Considerings.
Wife to Husby
and Mother to two Neverborns, now dealing with the challenge of primary
infertility, she is a frequent instigator of silliness and loves to entertain
with words.
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Considerings
Twitter: https://twitter.com/LRConsiderer
Pintrest: http://www.pinterest.com/LizziConsiderer/
Please go over and see Lizzi! I am truly thankful to Lizzi for graciously opening herself up and sharing this post on my blog today.
If you believe your child or a child close to you may have fallen victim to depression, please reach out.
For more information on signs and symptoms of childhood depression, please visit:
National Institute of Mental Health:
http://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/topics/depression/depression-in-children-and-adolescents.shtml
http://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/publications/depression-in-children-and-adolescents/index.shtml
Thank you for your support of my blog!
~Jenn
Please go over and see Lizzi! I am truly thankful to Lizzi for graciously opening herself up and sharing this post on my blog today.
If you believe your child or a child close to you may have fallen victim to depression, please reach out.
For more information on signs and symptoms of childhood depression, please visit:
National Institute of Mental Health:
http://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/topics/depression/depression-in-children-and-adolescents.shtml
http://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/publications/depression-in-children-and-adolescents/index.shtml
Thank you for your support of my blog!
~Jenn
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I'm THRILLED you were able to write for me. I LOVE the depth of this post & can't wait to post Part 2! Thank you so much <3
ReplyDeleteGetting inside the mind of a child like this---it's heart breaking and yet so amazing that Lizzi was able to capture the emotions precisely! Reading it gave me chills because there are a lot of things here that resonate with my own feelings as a child. Brilliant writing, Lizzi. XO
ReplyDeleteWow, always an amazing and vivid read Lizzie. Thank you for sharing about an often misunderstood and misdiagnosed childhood illness.
ReplyDeleteThe Rage. The Anger. The Sorrow. The Confusion. The Insomnia. The Hopelessness. Every day is Gloomy. It's Now Affected My Phoenix.
ReplyDeleteWake up Call.
Yep. Been there, Lizzi. This was spot on and you totally Knocked it out of the Park, my dear. xoxo's from us :)
You are an amazing woman, Lizzi. For what you have survived, for what you have accomplished, and for what you do for others by being open and honest and true. I am grateful for that you are in my life.
ReplyDeleteI wrote a longish comment and I don't know where it went, but until it decides to come back to us, what I said was you're such a talented writer. You take people into the situation, like not many people can. This is a gift, and I'm glad you share your gift with us. I'm sorry this happened to you, but I'm glad you're sharing and letting people know they're not alone. This is everything.
ReplyDeleteThank you Lizzi. I'm so sorry you had to experience that pain, but so glad you shared your story.
ReplyDeleteI kinda wanna give you a hug, and I don't do hugs. So I'll hug something here, you go hug something there and it can be a hug by virtual osmosis. Ok?
ReplyDeleteOh Lizzi. I've seen this in myself. And I've seen it in people I love. You captured all the feelings and thoughts and things that overwhelm. Depression sucks.
ReplyDeleteI had to take a deep breath before commenting. This piece hits far to close to home., to close to my own wounded and healing soul. I am so glad you are recovering. I am so so so sorry you struggled for so long. Thank you for sharing your story. It was Brave and Honest. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteDepression is a tough one. I struggle with it constantly. Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteThis is the day that someone's life will be saved. Because of your honesty and the fact that you are living, breathing, beautiful proof that there is hope. That you had to endure this in your life makes my heart hurt. It's no longer a secret to some that I have struggled with issues and dealt with them in destructive ways. There is hope. I know now why I was drawn in, even an ocean apart. You are my people. And there is hope. You did good, my friend. You did real good.
ReplyDeleteSuch beautiful words.
ReplyDeleteWow. I agree with Cary. And, I'm so glad that you're healing, and helping with your words. Powerful stuff.
ReplyDelete