I suffer from a serious illness.
No nice way to say it, no point trying to live my life pretending I’m in perfect health when I’m not. A lot if people suffer from the illness along with me. My friends, family and countless of others around the world. Doctors have guessed by what I’ve told them that I’ve been suffering since I was maybe 6. Maybe even younger. I was bitten by a dog when I was 8 and brought to the hospital. They took some blood tests and bandaged my arm and sent me home. It wasn’t until the next week my mam got a call from the hospital asking for me to come in. We met with a nurse and a specialist and they gave me a quick physical and asked me some questions. My mam and I were left waiting for 2 hours for them to come back to us. At that age, I didn’t understand what exactly they were looking for but I think my mam did. It runs in her side of the family. We were told to see a number of Doctors outside of the hospital, as they didn’t have someone who was qualified for the illness yet. From person to person, I was asked the same questions, gave the same answers and none of them could piece together how to help me. For a long time we found no one willing to take on my case, no one willing to deal with the consequences of a sick 8 year old. Finally, a woman said she had dealt with something like this before. She worked with me for 7 years and truly helped me over come this bump. Little did anyone know there was a very serious underlying problem on the horizon. No one told me there was a chance I would develop an even more severe disease. That wasn’t the case, this accident just brought it to the light. From 12 to 15 I suffered in silence. How are you suppose to know there is something wrong when it’s all you’ve ever known? If you have a chronic pain, you learn to live with it. You soon forget what it’s like not to feel it and you just pass it off not realising what damage is happening. Day to day tasks became missions. Some mornings I couldn’t move. Weighed down, mundane day to day things became chores. Everything became more and more difficult the older I got. I was scared. I ignored it. Denied that I was unwell. If I had known what I know now, I would have gotten the help I needed the second I realised something was wrong. I was weak and couldn’t do it on my own anymore. I almost lost my fight and knew I had to tell my mam and dad. Letting them know was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. How do you look at your family, who have been so supportive of you and tell them you’re sick again. Seeing as I never showed any signs of the illness, they didn’t take me as seriously as they should. Part of that was my fault, I had blocked everyone out in fear of being told I was over reacting. I thought it would go away over time that this was just something everyone got. It took 3 years of it to show me that something is very wrong. Of course, reading this now you’ll thinks ‘How did she not know? How the hell did it take her 3 years to know something was seriously wrong?’ My answer, apart of me always knew. I had googled my symptoms and read countless of articles and stories about it but couldn’t come to terms with it. My parents got me the help I needed and I finally thought things were going to be better. They didn’t. I didn’t think I could get worse. You never do until it happens. You see severe cases, you see people who are bed ridden and you never think it would be you until you’re in bed unable to move. Those 6 months will stay with me forever. When someone is seriously ill, they have to understand that they might lose their battle. That the illness could take their life. I came to peace with this. I had lost all hope of becoming better as I couldn’t see how I could ever be healthy again. I wasn’t able to go on days out with my friends, I spent most of my time alone. I had scars to show my fights, countless sleepless nights when I could do nothing but wait for the feeling to pass and multiple times I’ve missed out on adventures or memories because my illness took control.
On the 22nd of September I almost lost my fight. It fascinates me to this day that no matter how okay you are with dying your body fights for you even when you’ve given up. Sitting on my bathroom floor, not able to breathe is an image thats haunted my dreams. I was home alone and my phone wasn’t in reach. In that moment all I could think was ‘this is it. This is how I’ll be remembered.’ I’m not a religious person, but by some miracle I made it back to my bed and woke up the next morning. I believe I was in shock for two days. Considering the fact I almost died. I couldn’t stop thinking ‘I should be dead right now.’ I told my doctor 2 days later when it finally hit me. She called in my parents and broke the news to them. Neither of them knew I was that sick or that it had gotten this bad. Seeing their reactions was a breaking moment for me. With illnesses, everyone thinks that its just the sufferer fighting it. If I didn’t want to fight for myself, I had to do it for my family. It’s hard to fight for something you don’t want, but it’s easy to fight for someone you love. Day by day I would constantly say ‘Do it for them. Do it for future you.’ Until one day I was doing it for me. With medication, appointments and a lot of TLC I finally came back to health. The doctor told me there is a chance of me being sick again and that with an illness like this it’s very hard to predict. It can be triggered through anything. Finding hope again, I was able to start going to school again. Going on day trips, laughing more and ,to my families displeasure, singing! For anyone reading this, it’s an uphill battle, but it’s not a losing battle. No matter how many times you hear that voice saying ‘This is it.’ Throughout this article, I have used ‘illness’ instead of the name. Many people would jump to cancer or cf but neither are correct.
I suffer from a serious illness called Depression.
Most people will roll their eyes at this point. For those of you, please re-read this passage again and tell me if your feelings towards me have changed. Did you feel sorrow and pity for me before and now feel ‘ah it’s only depression she’ll be fine’ or ‘ that’s not a real illness!’ ? If either thoughts went through your head, YOU are the reason mental health isn’t seen as an actual illness. YOU are the reason so many people like myself suffer in silence. YOU are the reason people fear people finding out about their illness. People like YOU are holding the world back from becoming a better place. Mental illnesses kill more people per year then cancer. It effects so many lives. By you suffering from a mental illness, or your friend, or your brother, or your mam, or your neighbour. A huge number of people look down at mental illnesses. Why? Because of how it’s been portrayed in the media.
Depression is not sitting in your bed for two days because you’ve been broken up with. It’s not eating a tub of ice cream to make you feel better. It’s not weeping over something bad that’s happened. It’s not feeling sad or down for a week and then feeling fine again. It’s not getting in a bad mood for no reason.
Depression is staring at walls and not noticing time flying by. Depression is not having an appetitee for 2 weeks. Depression is being dissapointed when you wake up. Depression is laughing when others laugh so they don’t ask questions. Depression is pretendig to have to study or you already have something else on to get out of seeing your friends. Depression is feeling alone surrounded by your loved ones. Depression is not seeing any hope for your future. It’s slowly watching the people you love walk on egg shells around you. It’s losing interest in the things that used to make you so happy. It’s not seeing the point of getting out of bed. It’s forgetting to shower for 4 days. Depression is not cute, nor is it cured by someone coming along to save you.
No one comes to save you when you’re crying alone in the school bathrooms. No one is going to save you when all you can think is how it’d be easier to be gone. Those reading this will be shocked, how could I go into so much detail and express such horrid images? These images were my life. They are also many peoples lives today. Depression is like diluting water. The water is the good/your life. The ribenna (lets say) is the depression or any other mental illness. Slowly, it seeps into your life. Some can handle different levels of concentation. But what happens when there is more ribenna than water? When you can’t taste the water and it’s been soaked up by the dilute? This process can happen over a period of months, so it’s a slow change or it could happen in days. A sudden crash into depression.
Mental health is important. Your brain is apart of your body and it can get sick too. Be the change, be the one someone can come to. Be the person you’d need when illness strikes.
Be the building block of the future.
vaporwave
turnnoffyourmind
izzy806
baratheonpilled
