Hope Is A Good Place To Start.

10624933_767622379965320_3783419564568504076_nIn the last few days I’ve allowed one of my friends access to my blog and although she had known about my recent issues, she was surprised at how much I didn’t reveal, with tears in her eyes she asked why?

Why indeed, put simply I was ashamed, how could I tell her that behind the smile, there was nothing but a bottomless emptiness, how could I tell her I mimicked being happy, I laughed when everybody else laughed that each day I slipped on my armour and pretended to be one of them, walking amongst them feeling nothing but the pain of what went on behind my mask.

We discussed this for a long time and inevitably she said “you could have told me, really I replied, and what would your reaction have been” shaking her head replying she didn’t know but was hurt that I didn’t give her the chance, of course that sent me into a tiny guilt trip, which I pulled out of immediately.

I tried to make the point before I hit the wall I was just going through the motions, I’ve been a depressive for a number of years but this was the worst bout to date and frankly I thought I was losing my mind, and when I lost everything and became homeless I was without an anchor and the blackness set in and with that came denial of huge proportions.

I still tried to keep the whole show going for a while, in some ways I fought harder to keep the mask in place that deal with my situation.

She has always known me to be gregarious, outgoing a warrior for others, in fact I was expert in absorbing other people’s pain and never dealing with my own fearing if I asked others for help they would see me as a lesser person someone who was also fallible, my strength was my shield, but also part of my slide into depression in all it’s glory.

My pride got in the way, I wasn’t the woman who ever gave up I fought for everything, spoke when no one else would a champion, I see now that really I was looking for affirmation, and spent the last couple of years thinking if only……

Although she knew much of what went on I never really gave the details, and it was difficult to explain I forgot who I was, when looking in the mirror I didn’t even know the person reflected there, this defeated crybaby who couldn’t cope, there was nothing all my reserves had gone I couldn’t even summon a smile nothing zip zilch nada.

As explained in previous blogs Don’t Look Back In Anger and Treading Water step by step I got myself to start functioning, and I’m still working on that, and allowing myself time to do so, when the dark clouds threaten I know to remove myself from that situation and not let it get me down, no miracle cure just a desire to be well.

One of the most important factors for me is learning to like myself again, that’s hard after so much self loathing and disappointment in me, to look in the mirror and see what others might see, instead of hopelessness, a frightened almost fifty year old woman who couldn’t look herself in the eye.

So new goals have been set, and each one so far is going well am I happy, well yes do I like myself yes not all day every day but getting there, do I have a future..affirmative, mostly I have hope.


About therabbitholez

I returned to this blog in September 2014, after a 2 year absence, due to depressive illness and homelessness. This journey charts the rocky road to recovery and my feelings about it, and getting a home together after losing everything, this too has been a rocky rocky, both things connected on many levels, but separate at the same time. If you want to know more please read my blog:) and comment on any blog you like I enjoy the interaction, and belong to a great community on here. Thanks for reading.:)
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7 Responses to Hope Is A Good Place To Start.

  1. I love this post. Mostly because I can identify with most of the things you’ve said here and I know what it feels like to put on a mask every single day so that people won’t notice what’s really going on. I was thinking about it a couple of hours ago while I was in class, how nobody knows what’s going on behind the scenes unless you tell them and that itself is a frightening thought.

    It’s really scary when you’re depressive to tell those around you how you feel because you don’t know how they will react. Maybe I’m speaking for myself, but the main reason I wouldn’t tell my friends was because I hate pity and I didn’t want them to see me differently because of this illness that I have to live with.

    I want to promote my blog on social media because I believe that it will reach more people if I do, but I’m too terrified of having family and friends read everything I write about here because it’s all so personal and most things I write I haven’t even discussed with my therapist.

    I want to congratulate you for dong this and for opening up to your friend and letting her in on something that is so personal and intimate. I hope you realize how lucky you are to have a friend that loves you no matter what and hopefully will continue to be the same person around you now that she has this new piece of information about you. Best of luck and keep moving forward 🙂


    • Thank you for your insightful comment, that’s the thing the getting over the embarassment of admiting you have mental health problems.

      It’s only recently that I started to open up much more about this as the silence enables the illness if that makes sense.

      I don’t want to seem like I’m on a crusade, I just want to tell my story and it helps when I see it written down and aids my recovery.

      My friend was quite shocked at what i told her, but there’s the rub we really have idea what’s going on in people’s lives even those close to us, it’s that stupid fear of being intrusive, and on the otherside the fear of being judged, even by a therapist and they are trained to listen.

      I feel now that my desire to be well is stronger which enables me to more that function, I communicate, contribute I\m part of the community again, and just hope it continues, but I have my coping stratergies that seem to be holding up.

      Your doing a great job, at least your talking even in this medium, most importantly it’s not bottled up.


      • Thank you, I know exactly what you mean. I don’t want to be a sad show all the time in my blog either, but writing it down has helped me understand what’s going through my mind. Posting things out there and having people, like you, reply and help out just by saying something has been incredibly uplifting.
        I want to slowly turn this into an online journal of some sort, but first I feel like I just need to let out everything I’ve bottling up for the past 7 years and maybe then I’ll be able to start being happy and talk about other, lighter topics.


      • I\ve had online journals for about 8 years, and belong to a wonderful community, who are so supportive, I have recently given them details of my situation and the heartfelt affection , made me glad I opened up to them.

        Instead of happiness I look to re-connect(there’s a blog post in there lol) it’s a good starting point, and your doing just that by writing your journal.


  2. For me it was pride. I was afraid of what others might think of me and I was determined to defeat depression on my own. I’ve always been independent and even now, at aged 43, I have a very hard time asking others for help. I rarely do it and I (frankly) actually don’t like others to help me!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Ahh pride, that tricky obstacle but I know exactly what you mean. I was the same and still am to a degree, though there are times when the burden is too great and that helping hand is what’s needed. However your here sharing your music and thoughts with us and that shows the long way which you have come.


  3. sandiyee160 says:

    You are very blessed to have friends who love you and want to care for you. You deserve it, and now you can allow yourself to receive it. Be proud that you are worthy. Your desire to be well is your well spring of hope. I hope you always let it flow. In loving solidarity, Sandi


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