Depression – The Last Taboo

I’m a temp and have been for nearly 2 years now. It wasn’t actually intentional but following the experience from hell with a previous boss, I couldn’t find another job at such short notice and started temping. In case anyone doesn’t know what this means, it means that you sign with a recruitment agency and they find work for you. I’ve had massive contracts that have needed someone to stick around for years or ones where I have literally come in for 2 days to do a lot of shredding. I don’t really understand why people get in temps long-term, if there’s a need for another member of staff surely you’d just create a job? Especially now with AWR (Agency Worker Rights) temps now earn the same as if they were doing the job permanently, which is great. I always thought companies got in temps because it was cheaper, however, if you ever have the fortune to see what the company you work for pay for you – have a little look at the fact that may earn £8.00 an hour but the agency actually charge £11.00, as the agency have to pay your insurance etc.  All very interesting stuff.

Anyway, following a terrible experience at work (I’ll post about that another time) I had been signed off work for 2 weeks and been diagnosed as suffering from clinical depression. Not wishing to lie in a job, I’d declared this to the agency on my medical form. They actually ask for your weight. What relevance this has, I’d love to know. Apparently it wasn’t appropriate to write “loads”.  The lady at the agency upon reading my declaration looked at me as if I’d casually written “my insides are all actually lizards and I only live on the raw flesh of unicorns, stolen from the Garden of Fear”. “Are…you…okay…now?” she asked in a trembling voice. For once I held my tongue and didn’t respond “No, you moron, that’s why I’m sitting here looking for another job rather than being at home crying.” I had depression, that doesn’t mean you couldn’t leave me alone with your kids.

For all the things that people love to declare, “My Four in a Bed Romp!” “Why I’m getting married for the Fifth Time!” Depression is still a massive taboo and carries a stigma wherever you go. It is largely misunderstood, and can be unnerving to people who don’t know you very well.

Suffering from depression isn’t something I casually mention, as I don’t really feel I need to. I suffered from a minor problem that slowly got better with time. Some people out there are so horribly ill they cannot see the point of getting out of bed each morning. Like a lot of behavioural/medical problems, it is a spectrum disorder than can come at any time and affect each person suffering differently. Everyone has a different trigger for their problems – from literally biting into an apple and finding it is bruised, to the death of a loved one. I don’t think there is any right or wrong way to deal with any of these issues – and nobody can tell you how you should be feeling because they are not you.

I’ve had a variety of reactions from people who do know. Some will treat you as if you are made of glass for fear of upsetting you. Funny – I could handle someone screaming in my face but kindness made me melt. I text my friends after my appointment with the Doctor the line “I’m mental. Do you still love me?” They all said yes. Someone else close to me, when speaking of depression told me “I can’t really understand it. Can’t you just get on with it?” Well no, not really. That’s the crux of the problem right there – I don’t feel like I can “just get on with it” any more.

Grief triggered depression is something I find very difficult to cope with. If you break up with someone, you might meet someone else; you can always find another job, another house, another car. But when someone you love passes away, it really is the end. There is nothing you can say to make it all better, and you can’t make any promises. I know two people who are suffering with this and I’ve never felt more useless in my life. The grief has consumed them, to the point where they simply don’t wish to try anymore. I can placate them with platitudes all I like “Times a great healer” “They wouldn’t want you to live like this”, but really, that’s nothing more than some words put together. I can’t even begin to imagine how they must be feeling – they have suffered the emotional equivalent of being dropped on their heads.

One lost a very close member of family years ago. This person isn’t really living, it’s more an existence. They feel anger towards the person for not being here, and total loss as to what life is supposed to be without that person. It is so sudden and so horrific, there you were and there you’re gone. A swift thunderclap, and then nothing was ever the same again. This person has struggled terribly with life following the death of a loved one – the grief is all too much to bear. When this person laughs, I hear the tears inside of it. You can try to be there, to listen and to care, but there is nothing you can say. All this person wants is for them to come back and say “It’s okay, I’m here now”, and the pain of this never happening is too much.

Some people close to this person heavily criticised their behaviour. To say I was horrified doesn’t even really cover it – you can’t shout at someone until they’re not sad any more. It is so hard to see someone you love in pain – you’d give anything not to watch them suffer anymore. But it isn’t that easy. Only they can help themselves – it’s their mind and their pain. I would never ever tell someone they were wrong. If you choose to bite your lip and refuse to speak about it – that’s fine. If you choose to curl up into a ball and scream, that’s fine too. Who am I to judge?

The second person lost someone very close very recently. I don’t really know how they feel about because they don’t really say. Seeing as this person already has a personality disorder and depression, I admit I was scared. On the surface, this person seems fine. If I ask, they change the subject. If this is how they choose to cope – I would never, never tell them they were wrong. I’ve never been through something like this myself.

Depression isn’t always triggered or worsened by something very major. It can be something very small. Sometimes, you don’t even know why you’re so upset. Recently, casually lying on my bed listening to music, (happy songs too) I was so overcome with the fear that everyone I loved was going to die I couldn’t breathe. The look of terror on my boyfriends face was what calmed me down. I owe him so much for standing by me, even through the darkest times. I hate to watch the confusion and upset on his face when I’m having a little “episode”. I know he’d do anything to make it all go away, but it just isn’t like that.

The reason I know I’m getting better is because I’ve started to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I will attempt to fight, cajole, laugh or lie my way out of any difficult situation, but at that time I just couldn’t see a way forward. I didn’t want to try; I just wanted to go and quietly lie down somewhere and never be disturbed again. But now, I’ve started to learn that there will always be rain and darkness, but there will always be sunshine and light. For my personal issues – time was exactly what I needed. I needed support from my friends, who listened to my endless drivel without complaint, and I needed my releases – music and writing. I needed to feel every emotion I was having – from the chest-wobbling sobbing (I wish I looked glamorous when I cry. I don’t. My face and eyes puff up like marshmallows) to the glass smashing anger.  I never did try therapy, counselling or medication – although these were offered to me by my Doctor. I know some people who take medication and some who attend therapy sessions. There is no “one fixes all” for any condition and it has to be what works for you.

The one piece of advice I can offer is to never hate yourself for how you feel. You can’t control emotions – that’s why they’re emotions. If you’re having a really bad day, and everything makes you scream with frustration or cry with sadness, you just need to go with the flow. It really isn’t your fault – you never asked for this. Life can throw a hell of a load at you from time to time; it’s just the way it is. You are not weak and you are not stupid for “letting” things get you down. It can be something so horrific – the illness of your children, the death of your mother, or something so tiny – finding a ketchup stain on your best cardigan. If it makes you feel awful, then that’s what it does. Do not ever criticise yourself for being upset.

I read a piece in a book that said “You cannot control what other people do, but you can control how much it affects you.” That may sound like the stupidest sentence ever but if you really think about it – it’s probably the truest thing I’ve seen written. I did get a few really nasty comments from people when I said how I was feeling. I don’t know if they genuinely hated me for what I said or if they just hurt to see me upset. I didn’t ask because I cut all contact. I don’t need those kind of people around me, and they made it plain they didn’t need me. At the time it seemed like a loss, but they do say that in times of need you find out who your friends are. I don’t judge other people’s emotions and I ask the same courtesy in return.

There is an awful lot of support out there. Confide in those you trust, and please go and see your GP if you are struggling. There are telephone lines, websites, support groups and charities to help.  The work that MIND does (www.mind.org.uk) is wonderful, and I was honoured to be involved with a fundraiser in my hometown for the cause. You can try and see what works for you – the cathartic release of writing rescued me. Mental health is a serious issue – and some people simply decide they have had enough and decide to end their lives. I cannot imagine ever getting to this point. I was lucky enough that things got better before I drowned.

There is never a simple answer to depression. I only know what worked for me. As the writer Alice Sebold said “You save yourself or you remain unsaved.”