No more excuses

I haven't blogged for over a year now and that's because I've had some situations happen to me that stopped me from doing something that I enjoyed. Even though I don't know who you readers are, you have been reading what I write and letting me voice my opinions on things and for that I really apricate you all.

To all those on Twitter that I talk to occasional, thank you for following me and my rants and sorry for not tweeting very much.

I know this is a blog for idol talk, but I need to get this off my chest in order to help myself heal. Please do not comment on this as I don't really have the courage to read them.

Life isn't like a box of chocolates. It's like a rollacoster, it has ups, downs, turns, it goes fast and slows down. For some, the highs are constant and looking at them is like looking at a cloud that you can never reach. While for others, it's a bottomless pit of nothingness. It's lonely and painful. That's where I am right now. I'm in a bottomless pit and I can see this tiny pinprick of a light but I just can't seem to reach it.

I was first diagnosed with depression in 2006, about 4 months after my aunt died. I was studying at university to become a theatre technician. I was struggling with the course as I am a slow reader, writing is a chore and deadlines make me panic to the point that I'm so stressed out that I spend more time sleeping then doing anything else. When my aunt died, it was a huge blow to me. She was the aunt who was closest to me in age being 15 years older then me, and was the aunt who was always out with her friends and having a good time. She never told anyone that she was suffering until it was too late.

She didn't really kill herself, she just stopped caring about herself. She was hospitalised once before for not looking after herself after she had twins what died but after she had my cousin she seemed fine. It's tough not seeing her smile and laugh.

The doctor told me that it was just stress and that I need to talk about what's making me so stressed. So I dropped out of uni to concentrate on getting better, and I did, it took a few months but I got out of it and went to do another course to do what I wanted to to.

Leaving home was stressful but I enjoyed the freedom and independence I gained from not being at home. Yes I was broke but as long as I was happy, it was ok. I completed the course and gained a foundation degree. I wanted to study something else not connected to that course as I learned that I wasn't really suited to that stressful environment so I applied to do a fashion course to being up my designing and clothes making skills but I couldn't continue as I didn't have the funds to do that course and live away from home. So I reluctantly returned.

The depression flared it's ugly head again sometime between 2009 and 2011, I don't really remember what caused it to return but what I do know is that it was my family who noticed something wasn't right with me. So for them I went and sort help. The only thing that worked was taking anti depressants which no one wanted me to take, but it worked and all I cared about then was making sure that my family was happy and that I looked happy.

I managed to get myself a job, which I hated, and tried to manage doing what I wanted with having a job. I ended up giving up doing things that I loved doing because of my hatred for the job I was doing. I knew that the job was harming my already unstable mind but I kept up with it. Counting down the seconds before I could leave for the day. I developed joint pains in my wrists and ankles and started having sharp pains which lasted for 30 minutes each time because of the job but I didn't give it up.

September 2013, I had nearly £200 taken out of my account due to someone hacking my cousin’s Xbox and that put me into some financial trouble which I'm still kind of paying for even now as I write this. It took 4 months for the bank to sort it out. And in those months, more money left my account. I started getting stressed again and slowly started to seclude myself from everyone I loved.

I didn't want to go out, I didn't want to watch telly, I didn't want to do anything but sleep. Eating became a chore as well. The only reason why I ate was because I had to due to work but I lived on 1 meal a day for months. I just didn't care about myself and I just wanted everything to end. I felt alone. I felt that no matter what I did, I wasn't moving. Picture being In a race and your running but nothing is moving. You can see everything and everyone flying past you but your going nowhere. That's how I was feeling.

What made me want to end everything was having debt agencies harress me constantly, my cousin getting into trouble and making my grandmother sick and my manager telling me that my piroites are wrong that work should be my only pirority and that I should leave my grandmother to the rest of my family, I lived with my grandmother at that point so I got extremely angry and refused to do any work which my supervisor told was ok after he heard what that manager had said to me.

I went to go visit my friend in Nottingham and while there, I felt like there was nothing for me there. I didn't feel comfortable and when I went home, I found more letters from debt agencies. I tried to find a solicitor who could give me some advice on this problem but couldn't find the free law centre. I couldn't find anyone who could help me and I felt like the whole world was against me that I decided to take some painkillers to stop the pain I was feeling. I wanted all the pain I was locking inside me to end and I wanted all of my problems to go away and not trouble my family. I couldn't take it anymore. I just wanted it all to end.

What stopped me was my grandmother. She had lost her baby my aunt to depression and her eldest son and child, my uncle, to cancer. I didn't want her heart to break even more with me gone so I used her care line and got help.

The first person in my family to find out was my mother. I didn't realise I was hurting her so much. She went straight from work to the hospital when the people at the care line contacted her with what happened. Then my aunt arrived and for the first time I realised how much I was loved, that there was something really wrong with me to want to do something so final. It's still hard talking about it to anyone. Even trying to write it down is making me cry uncontrollably that it's hard to see. I'm still ashamed to admit that I tried to take my own life last year. If there are any gramma mistakes that I have made, I'm sorry, but I don't think I can read this back to correct any of it.

So, I moved back in with my mother, my gran sort of knows what happened but doesn't want to know and I started getting help. I need it. I went back on medication and started thearipy to find out why I'm feeling the way I feel and to find ways of changing it. It took me 3 months before I felt well enough to go back to work but I just couldn't act like nothing had Happened.

All that happened at the end of April 2014. Since then, over 8 month, I followed what my doctors said to me, I started making myself do things that once made me happy like sewing and baking. I started talking to my mum more and more about everything that was bothering my and started trying to make my life feel better then I was feeling it was. I eventually left my job due to feeling like I was never going to get better in a job that was making me sad.

Funny how when you start getting rid of all the bad things in your life, good things start to happen. So now I'm crying for good things now. Less then a month after I quit my job, I met my boyfriend. He's so sweet and kind, smart, caring and no matter how I'm feeling, he always makes me smile which is hard at the moment as I've just had my tooth taken out and it hurts to smile.

If I hadn't of left my job, I'd have never brought the ticket to go see Babymetal and I would have never moved over to let a disabled lady lean on the barrier which made me push him and I wouldn't have made it to today to feeling like there are something's in life to live for.

So I have no money, no job, I live with my mother in an estate I hate and all my friends live so far away from my that its very lonely, ok so most of my friends live far, I do have a few that live close but they are very busy. I'm slowly getting to a place that I can safely say that I'm truly happy. I know my family are still worried about me and I'm trying to find ways to get myself back. To get the girl who had a vision for her life and wanted to explore what this life has to offer back. To dig her up after the woman buried her a year ago.

I'm not writing this to get sympathy from anyone, I don't want it. I don't need it. Not because I feel like I deserve it because I truly feel that I don't, but because I need people to understand that depression is different for everyone and some people want the sympathy, some want support and some want both. I want support but I want the support of having people know that there was something up with me but that I haven't changed. I'm still the same kind, creative person I was before my condition, she's just trying to see how much light is really out there in the world. I just want people to know that life IS like a rollacoster, you just can't let the downs keep you down.

Thank you for reading. Please know that this was very hard for me to do but it's also helping me to overcome it.

I'm Kira and I suffer with dyslexia, depression and anxiety. This blog helps with my dyslexia and hopefully writing this post will help me with my depression.

Thank you for taking the time to read this.