So, it’s very nearly Christmas. Here I am almost at the end of 2013 and I managed to survive. Melodramatic, you might say, but well I suppose I’m nothing without my over the top melodramas.
We tend to enter a new year without really much idea of what’s ahead…unless you’re pregnant or getting married or something (but even then, unexpected things can happen in those most certain of events). Last New Years Eve whilst dressed as a murderous cowboy at Tom and Fran’s house, little did I realise quite how bad a year 2013 was going to be for me. The previous couple of months hadn’t been particularly great with the ongoing situation at work (being frozen out, talked about, moving offices, my maturity, work capabilities and professionalism being called into question by my peers) so I thought that 2013 had to be better than that. Boy, was I wrong.
2013 saw my worst bout of depression, saw me actively contemplating suicide because I thought that the world would be a better place without me, that everyone would be better off without having to cope with this needy fat failure, this waste of space that I’d become.
I sought help for my depression and thankfully (with a massive help of antidepressants and therapy) my head seems to be in a better place. But those things alone didn’t just help, the support of my wonderful family, my brilliant husband David who has seen me at both my worst and my best (I’m sure better is to come too), my mam and dad who have helped me through with sheer unadulterated love (and some pretty off colour jokes about suicide from my da), my brothers and my incredibly intelligent and always hilarious niece who I love as though she were my own daughter; the sort of kid who sent me a text the other day telling me how much she loves me because she’d been reading this blog and had got upset that I’ve been so down. She’s off to uni next year to study psychology – she could do a fascinating case study on the inner workings of her mental aunt.
I have such wonderful people surrounding me, fantastic friends who are always there for me, any time of the day or night – they’re the people who make me what I am; they’re who I aspire to be…and I really couldn’t have got through without everyone’s support: I’ve been overwhelmed with kind words from people I’ve known forever to people I barely know because we share the bond of depression. I couldn’t have come so far without them. I’m well aware this is becoming like an Oscar speech so I’m going to finish in a minute but before I do, I just want to say a couple more things:
My demons are not all gone. They still exist, kind of like in a ghost trap from Ghostbusters. I need to try and get them to the containment unit before they consume me so badly again (think Damian Karras at the end of The Exorcist – I don’t want that to happen to ME). As The Smiths once sang, These Things Take Time and so I am still working hard on getting my head straight.
Because I’ve been busy concentrating on getting my head straight, I’ve let my body become ravaged (and ravished) by cakes and pies and Guinness and loads of other junk food. I couldn’t do getting my mind and body right at the same time, so I shall be trying to get back into a shape that isn’t quite so round in the New Year.
And finally, just because, if at any point over the Christmas period you are feeling horrible and low and you can’t talk to anyone about it, please remember The Samaritans are there, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. They’re an amazing organisation and can really help in times of crisis.
Thank you all so much for reading my blog posts. I know they’ve mostly been depressing but sadly that’s been most of my year. I will work on 2014 being the International Year of Tara Court, and if it isn’t, then it’ll all be okay as long as I continue to get better.
Merry Christmas to you all.