Damn all the drugs, the counselling, the medical opinions, for you know best - you know that the only way to stop the pain is to feel the pain. And the only way to feel the pain is to inflict pain. And the only way to inflict pain is to damage your flesh with stab wounds that will penetrate your heart. Like cupids arrow gone mad, tainted with hatred and war. So you begin an attack of self verses self. The main objective to hunt out the pain, to corner it, deaden it. But the pain breathes spores that accumulate spreading through your soul. And you realise you are never going to catch them, they are free, you are the only prisoner in this war. You are trapped within a maze of your own pain, your own selfish but real pain- there is no way out, you think..............

I wrote that passage a while back when I felt as though I had no escape. I created this site over a year ago and I feel it is time to write some kind of update. Through this site I have been free to express my raw emotions, my raw pain - the raw me. Me with the mask lifted, a mask that clung to my skin for a long time painting a huge grin on the truth. Only when someone’s mask is torn away will you see the hollow expression and the tears - the deathly stare of a mind in trauma.

The first counsellor I ever saw when I was sixteen told me that I should not expect an immediate recovery but maybe 5 or even 10 years.That sounded like forever and at times it has felt like forever.I was not even aware that I had anything to recover from at that stage. I didn’t want her to tell me that and I did not believe it...in fact I remember walking out of the room and expecting to be fine in a few weeks.My Dad had gone ..... I was going to be ok and I wanted to be ok.I wanted it more than I can say.

That is why the ‘pull yourself together’ speeches that I’ve heard more than few times have hurt me so much. I never wanted to be the needy person I became....I never wanted to see all the doctors and therapists hoping they’d heal my mind and I definitely did not want to feel the despair I felt.

To stop being sick, to get better has been my focus for so long......one I have often seen as unattainable. It feels too dangerous to say to myself let alone to you the reader that I am better,cured,healed.Maybe I am,maybe I’m not.It just doesn’t seem important anymore because whatever professionals may label my current state of mind I know in my heart that I feel one hell of a lot better than I once did or than I ever have.You know when I wake up now I don’t dread getting up,I don’t anticipate another shitty day. It’s like my mind has been set free after so many years of being trapped in a dark suffocating noisy blackness.

Life is a mystery for each of us to unravel, peel away layer by layer - searching, discovering,living. But what happens when the layers become stuck, you become still, frozen in time, frozen into an ice cube. You watch the living go on living but you’re not part of the movement. You are standing in sub zero temperatures and inside you’re as cold as stone - the blizzard of life is burning your mind, the frost eats away at any hope you have of being warm, cared for and loved with tender hands - your frosty breath bitter at the injustices of the past that put you here in the first place. You’re going to crack like a china doll tumbling from the top of the stairs.You’re going mad.

There were many times when I truly believed that I was crazy - there are times I still do, because although I function in a way that radiates a sense of normality - i never do feel ‘normal’. Most of the time I feel like I am pretending to be ok, that one small trigger could unbalance my mind. I suppose it is what’s referred to as living on the edge. But in my own way I am content and happy with my life and dare I say it - with myself. It was probably a gradual process... In a way I had resigned myself to living with crippling depression for the rest of my life.I was no longer fighting it. My moods went up and down...I could be so happy one minute and in despair the next.The times of happiness increased in length then came a bad bought of depression.Then at some point the depression lifted and it’s intensity reduced. I don’t know why and I don’t care much why....it is a missing part of my life but it was the emptiness and now the empty space has filled with something alien but wonderful.Something that gives me the ability to be rational, to relax, to be peaceful, to cry,to laugh, to smile - the list is endless.Even if the depression was to return at it’s worst then at least I now know how it feels to be without it.

So where am I at now...well I’m doing ok. I feel more sure of who I am and have a sense of what I want in life. I have questioned so many areas of my life, revised my opinions, seen things in a new light and not in the shadow of depression. I feel more equipped to cope with depression - to give ‘it’ a kick rather than turning the anger inwards on myself. Instead of directly self harming myself I’ll kick and punch walls, pillows, doors e.t.c. There are a few occasions that I have bruised my body but these are rare occurrences and I learnt a long time ago that this life time reaction to stress was not going to completely disappear. Although I have taken the blade up in the last year I have not put it to my flesh. What stops me I’m not sure - a fear of going back, a fear of falling again but not having anyone to pick me up - or maybe a fear of not wanting to be picked up.

Then there’s my sexuality...during the past year I have admitted to myself and others that I am gay. I guess I’d known for a while but didn’t want to admit it to myself...to add it to my list of ‘problems’,but of course it isn’t a problem it is completely natural...women love men, men love men and women love women.And you know what I am proud of my sexuality because it feels so right..so what if I am a minority..does that really matter? Relationships, love and sex meant very little to me when I was in the midst of depression and the thought of entering into any intimate relationship was terrifying. Now I feel that I am strong enough and able to both receieve and give affection without depression acting as a barrier surrounding my heart. It wasn’t my sexuality that was important in my ‘coming out’, it was more my way of saying to myself and perhaps subconciously to others that I am ready to risk being hurt and by taking that risk I have allowed myself to experience the emotional and physical closemess that I never though I’d share with anyone. I have even experienced the hurt and although it wasn’t nice I suprised myself by coping with it in a rational manner.

Now something that goes hand in hand with feeling better is a future and when you are able to envisage a tomorrow, or a next month, or a next year you begin to hope for more. The contentment and happiness that I feel a lot of the time is more than I ever hoped for - but I don’t want to stay in this safe place anymore. I want to keep moving forward, to follow my dreams, to take risks - am I strong enough? - I have my doubts and only time will tell if my past will interfere with my dreams - but for the first time, I am daring to hope for more.

Keep Hoping

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