So followed a very mixed year. At first my relief at being out of a very bad situation felt amazing. I had missed out on so many aspects of life for a long time, and was determined to make up for it. I got to spend time with my girl. I was able to speak to people without fear of being checked up on, and was able to socialise! I even had a trip to Yorkshire to see my best mate from years back. It felt great. For a while a least.
I went through a rough time with my ex harassing me, and was left with a financial situation that I just couldn’t handle. Eventually a harassment order was issued against my ex, which he broke twice, both times leading to a court appearance and him spending time in prison.
During this time as well, I, well, I was a complete prat to be honest. I started drinking heavily, and would often turn up to work hung-over. I wasn’t sleeping well when I was sober, and wasn’t eating properly either. I was a crap mum. I also had a couple of casual relationships, which left me feeling terrible after, but I didn’t learn from, and I got badly hurt at a time when I was least able to deal with it.
In the meantime, I was becoming noticeably more stressed and difficult to be around. I reached breaking point around Easter this year, and was told to take three weeks off work to get my head together. My Karate instructor had also noticed a down-turn in my spirits as well. I visited the doctor, and was diagnosed with severe depression and prescribed anti-depressants.
Just like my Dad.
This was the lowest I had ever felt. If it hadn’t had been for the determined advice of those around me that I acknowledge this illness, I dread to think what could have happened.