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aliens-world101 · 2 years

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Depression and wrong life lessons

Depression was the first thing I was ever diagnosed with and I was diagnosed at 13. Considering I'm 32 now, you'd think I'd have learned a thing or two on how to deal with it. Nope! I'm still as lost as an adult as I was as a teenager. Depression probably won't be mentioned too much since it's been the background radiation of my life for so long.

All I've learned in my 32 years of life is that I hate depression. I hate when all the colour is sucked out of my life. I hate when all I want to do is sleep. I especially hate the isolation of it.

When I'm depressed, I don't want to burden my loved ones with it. I don't want them to know just how badly I'm struggling. Maybe if I pretend I'm fine, I will be. Why would anyone care about how hard life is for me? If I ignore it, it'll go away. No one cares anyway. All thoughts that plague me when depression and they all stink.

Of course pretending doesn't make it true. Of course my family and friends care. Of course ignoring it doesn't make it go away. Of course my loved want me to succeed and be happy. But those logical answers are very quiet when depression is loud.

It doesn't help that my childhood was...less than ideal. A stay at home mother with an undiagnosed and poorly treated mental disorder herself - probably borderline personality disorder - doesn't help either. I learned young that my feelings didn't matter. My sadness that was masked as anger was to be punished. My cries for help, unheard. I eventually learned that asking for help the right way is incredibly difficult but that's a story for another post. The lesson I learned over and over again was that nothing ever changes. Nothing in my life did. My mom would say something to improve herself and do it for a week and then go right back to her old ways. I doubt this helped the depression any.

My mom, to her credit, did try. She did what she could. Do I resent her for my childhood? Yes. I am a big enough person to admit that I am not big enough to forgive. Maybe some day in the future but not now. She did take me to see her doctor and after some struggling, he did diagnose me with depression and I was put on medication. Did it help? I'm not so sure anymore. Did it make things worse? Not that I'm aware of.

I've been on the same dosage since I was 13 and used to be so sure it helped. Maybe it did, maybe it still does. That's a journey I'm still undertaking.

My temper got a little easier to manage under the medication but that's all I can remember. I was still sad. I was still angry at the world. My trust in others was next to zero. No one was nice without an ulterior motive as far as I was concerned. That thought nearly destroyed any chance I had at a relationship with my sister.

As an adult, I have learned more about myself and what I can do to help those dark moods pass quicker. Now, I will pass them on to you:

1. DON'T ISOLATE YOURSELF

These thoughts don't get better if you keep them to yourself. Find someone you can trust whether it be family, friends, or a therapist and TELL THEM. I know it's hard and scary. I also know that having people that can help hold you up when you can't do that yourself is invaluable

2. Pictures of things that make you happy in a place you will see everyday is awesome.

I put mine by my door so every time I leave or let the dog out, I see the people and creatures in my life I love the most

3. Have a plan for when those dark thoughts threaten to consume you.

My therapist told me about this one. Make a plan with loved ones. Make a list of people you can call/text when it's too much no matter the time.

4. Take your victories where you can get them

Getting out of bed just to get something to eat is better than not getting out of bed at all. Brushing your teeth once out of the week is better than not at all. These may be small but they're still worth celebrating

That's all I have. I hope my little bit of advice helps you.

#depression #diagnosed #depression tips

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diamondsnpolaroids · 4 years

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I know I havent posted in awhile, and I will catch you all up on my weekly polaroid progression shots but I've really been struggling this week and I need to get it out somewhere.

Yes. I am still pregnant. In 3 days I'll finally be 40 weeks. A milestone I never thought I'd get to because this entire pregnancy has been a rollercoaster of emotions, pain and endless struggles. I didnt want to be pregnant this long. At all. This is going to be long and there will be a lot of personal details, but I need to get it out. I'm tired of having all these thoughts with no outlet.

Since I was 16 years old I was convinced I would never be able to have a child. It was always a devastating thought until I got to the age of 22 when i finally kind of accepted the fact and was okay not becoming a mother. The one thing i wanted between those years, the one thing that broke my heart was I'd never be able to experience the feeling of being pregnant. That may seem silly because that's such a short period of time when it comes to being a mother. 9 months of growing a human compared to the years and years of seeing that person grow is so minuscule. But for some reason that was always what broke me most.

I was dating the same man that entire time. I was 16 when we first starting dating, and I'll be convinced till the day I die that he was my soulmate. He was my best friend over absolutely anything. I could be my totally authentic self with him. He knew how weird I was and stayed. He watched me drown myself in my depression and stayed. He saw me act like a child, like an adult, my worst and best moments. Experienced my grief and my biggest accomplishments and was always right there for me. Growing up with an alcoholic drug addict father I knew I needed a man that would never abandon his family for those things. He was the man I knew I never needed to worry about.

I never really noticed the abusive behavior. The mental torture, isolation, the control he held over me, how hard his harsh words would hit.. it never really crossed my mind because when the good times were good, they were great. When they were bad, I was convinced it was all on me. My depression was the controlling one. My insane mind was the problem. Never him. Then the alcohol started to take over. He consumed himself in it whenever he had the chance. His childhood was ruined by this substance just like mine was and he was slowly turning to it instead of working out his trauma that it caused. Hed increase the intake slowly but surely and when it got too much for me to handle I'd cry and beg that he stopped. Seeing how upset it made me the first few times hed stop or slow down. But it was never for long. Hed go a week and then once again it would slowly increase and the cycle would continue. After awhile, I was "crazy" and he was "just doing what everyone our age was doing". No one our age was drinking 6+ a night on week days and spending $200 at least per night on the weekends. By the time we hit 7 years it got to an all time low. April of 2019 I realized all of this wasnt okay any more. An old friend had walked into my life and for the first time in years I was treated like a human being with feelings. Real feelings that were valid. I was told and shown that I was no where near the same happy girl I once was. It was all over my face and in my body language that I was a totally different person and not in a good way. It was clear just by looking in my eyes that I was severely depressed. I was reassured that my decision to split to work on ourselves was indeed the best step forward I could have ever taken.

My boyfriend reluctantly agreed to end the relationship for the sake of bettering ourselves or else we'd never last as a long term couple. He stopped drinking. Wed still hangout but was met with an extreme depression on his end, begging for me to stay and help him through it as if I hadn't tried for years and years. I knew nothing I could do would make him change, it needed to be a decision he made for himself. He had ruined every part of my being and I needed to explore who I was as an individual. My old friend made me feel ways I hadn't in years and eventually I caved to my emotions and desperate need to feel wanted without the attachment and abusive behavior always on my shoulders. I wasnt with my ex, and I kept it from him. After a month I started to notice his changes but it wasnt enough. He still tried to keep me wrapped around his finger while questioning my every move. He was working on it though, and I was noticing the change, but I couldnt stop what I was doing.

After another month he found out. He was upset, naturally, but was still around. He still wanted to work on it. Then 3 days later I took my first pregnancy test. It was positive. I kept it to myself praying it was a fluke. I took 2 more the next day. It wasnt. I took one last one, called my doctor, then called him over. I told him, and it wasnt an ideal reaction. He was forcing an abortion on me. For someone who never thought they could get pregnant, to find out after years that it was indeed possible, I just couldnt. This was a miracle in my eyes. Once I told him I couldnt, giving him the option to sign off all his rights and to stay away if that's what he wanted, he accepted he was going to be a father. But he also disappeared. Just up and left, and I was met with the worst mental abuse he could ever dish out for weeks. I had never felt so low in my entire life. Being told our child is a mistake, how terrible of a person I was and how him not being around is totally and completely my fault. What i failed to mention is for the last 3 years of our relationship he would use snapchat to talk to girls behind my back. I'd check his phone after every fight and hed go out drinking, just to see up to 7 different girls names with a "sent" notification beside them. I'd delete them off his contacts, confront him, ect ect, but he never stopped. I was always ashamed I stayed with someone who could do this but my love for him was so blind and so strong.. I couldnt let go.

Whenever I would mention all the hurt he caused me, it never compared to me sleeping with someone else while we weren't even together. It was ALL. MY. FAULT. And he couldnt take even an ounce of responsibility for how he treated me and pushed me out of his arms. After 2 weeks of us knowing I'm pregnant, he started seeing someone else. He was drinking beyond what he ever was with me, and now he was with someone else. Some girl who was also fresh out of a long term relationship, totally okay with the fact he was to but also expecting a baby with. I shouldnt have been mad or upset, we weren't together, but it hurt. I wanted the man I thought I'd never have to worry about being a good dad to actually be here with me on this journey. But he wasnt. For the months to come he gave me promises that their relationship wasnt an offical thing and reassured me he doesnt think she'll be around long. I shouldnt give up hope on us. My hormonal, emotional self prayed that was true.. until they became official in September.

Once that happened, it was like a ghost town. I only saw him for the 3 ultrasounds we had to pay for. He never came to any doctors appointments, he didnt feel the baby move, nothing. The entire time blaming me for him not being around. I sat at home every day after long shifts at work knowing I'm all alone in this world, growing a baby, doing everything by myself while he lived his life with no responsibility, laying next to her every night. Every day my heart broke. Some days were better than others, but not a single day I didnt wish and pray that hed atleast be there for his child. I knew my feelings weren't relevant anymore, I just wanted my son to have a father. He needed to have a father. I wasnt going to let my kid go through life always wondering why he wasnt enough for him like I did. I still hurt for myself, but no where near as much as I hurt for my son. I was given empty promises from my ex, he said hed call every day so atleast if he didnt watch our baby grow inside of me, hed atleast know his voice when he finally arrives. But hed go days without calling, and it would somehow turn into my fault because I hurt him too much to call his son.

I've spent this entire pregnancy working on myself, on my mental health, researching how to be a mother, what I need to do and stay away from, how to cope with every type of situation that may arise. I've done nothing but work on growing myself to be the best person I could be for my son. He just stayed drinking away his problems, distracting himself in every type of way he could. Avoiding all responsibilities of becoming a father soon.

Fast forward to about a week ago, when a phone call got a little spicy heated between us and ended in me sending him some snapchats of myself by his request. I know I shouldnt have, he was with someone else, but I missed him and wanted one last feeling of being wanted by the man I always thought I'd marry. I did exactly what broke me the last 3 years of our relationship and I really didnt feel bad about it. For 2 days this continued until it just stopped and he got cold with me. Once again, I'm left broken hearted but this time, I know it's my own fault.

During the time before this, for months I highly considered giving my son my last name. It made sense. He wasnt reliable enough to even spend 30 seconds every day to call his son, how could I ever believe hed be there every day for him once he was born? It was logical. Everyone who knew our situation told me I should even before I brought up that being an option I was weighing in my mind.

A few days after our snapchatting stopped, I had to finally tell him. I couldnt bring myself to blindside him with something so serious. I should have, really, but I still hold his feelings deep in my heart, and I couldnt hurt the man I spent over 7 years with like this. So I told him. He broke. But not in any way I ever thought he would. He confessed how he still loved me, how everyone around him knows he still loves me, ending with how much this would break his heart, giving us no chance of ever being together again. We'd never be able to do things as a family, hed never look at me or our son again. It was, to say the least, extremely intense. But it also left me wondering if this was one of the many manipulative ways he knows to get what he wants. He always brought "us" up to get his way on things. It felt genuine, but I'm also extremely hormonal and yes I still love and miss him like crazy.

It's been a few days since then and theres been no word of any feelings since. Hes been cold and more distant and my heart is once again broken into a million pieces. Hes called a couple times but he still misses days. I was given the go ahead to try and self induce labour by my midwives so I have been. When he calls and asks what I did with my day, I'd tell him. Last night apparently I shouldnt have. I was met with anger because I should "leave him be, he'll come when hes ready" as if he knows any kind of physical pain I've been through these last few months.

These past 2 weeks alone I have felt nothing but pain. Between feeling my hips separating, my pelvic bones shifting and my son's head descending lower, constant back pain, not being able to walk properly, my kid sitting on nerves leaving my legs feeling paralyzed or sending shocks into my vagina. Not being able to sleep more than 2 hours at a time max, peeing every hour on the hour, his feet kicking my ribs so hard I curl over, getting his feet stuck under them as well. The pains are unimaginable as you can see, now mixed with all the emotional distress I've been under... you could imagine how I'm ready for this child to enter the world. But no.. I'm being selfish. He isnt ready. I'm fine to keep going. Because apparently my ex knows everything my body is enduring just to bring our child into this world. It broke my fucking heart last night when he yelled at me for it. Absolutely shattered it.

Which brings us to this picture. I couldnt sleep once again, and every time I woke up I was met with mind numbing depression and long crying spells. I feel more alone than ever. My 16-22 years of age is crying for me knowing this was all I ever wanted out of life and it has been constantly ruined and brought down by a man I never knew would act the way he has been. This pregnancy was so easy in almost every aspect compared to most women, I've been so so blessed to have such an easy time physically and yet I constantly feel as if he has ruined this experience for me. Sometimes the mental abuse from a man is worse than the physical. And he knew exactly how to ruin this all for his own selfish needs. I've spent all day today feeling ruined, beaten down, and just straight up depressed. I'm not ready to be a mother, infact I am absolutely scared shitless to be one. But I'm willing to go through being scared over all this physical pain I've been through that seems never ending. I'm ready to meet and love my little man. But once again I feel like I cant even be happy about it because of my ex.

I'm tired. I'm so so so tired of being so inlove with a man who has shown me time and time again he wont be the father I always knew he could be. My heart hurts so bad for my son every single day. And I'm just.... tired. Which is why I'm posting this picture along with my story. I know some women have it worse with their pregnancies and the fathers leaving. I know some men can be all of this plus physically abusive towards women. I know I dont have it the worst, but I'm trying. I need to for my son. I doubt this post will get very far, and I know a lot of judgment will come my way for it, but if my pregnancy journey can help even one woman not feel so alone, then I'm happy with sharing it.

#pregnancy mention #pregnant #preggers #pregnancy #single mother #single mom #polaroids #polaroid #instax #instant photography #inspiration #instaphoto #baby bump #baby #babyboy #my baby

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