Wednesday 5 January 2011

30 Days of Truth - Day 26

Day 26 → Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why?

Yes. Twice.

The first time was in Uni - second year. I was nineteen. I was, in retrospect, suffering from depression. I had a bad placement in a school that was not a good fit for me. This caused major stress and doubt about my chosen career and course.

I also had had contact for the first time from my father's family in twelve years. They initiated the contact, dumped an awful amount of information on me and made allusions to wanting to be part of my life. It opened up an awful number of old wounds and doubts. It also introduced  guilt as if I were betraying my mom but wanting to know more about the other side of my family.

All in all I think I had a bit of a nervous breakdown. The uni was awesome and the psychology lecturer helped me a lot. I was given a new school and LOVED it. They also gave me a week off and helped me get home so that I could go see my GP and be with my family.

I, once again, cut ties with my father's side of the family and I have only recently started communicating with them again.

The Res-Rats rallied by me and my first experience of the twilight zone left me stronger. I got to the stage of wanting the emotional pain to stop, but luckily I was so loved that I didn't feel the need to take any drastic steps. It took a while but I got there.

It's especially important that I thank Stud1 for being there for me back then and that he's still here!

The second time was in the early stages of Post Natal Depression... Here and here are posts I have written about this previously.

1 comment:

  1. Yes. Once or twice:
    First time was when I went to uni. I was 17 and so incredibly homesick. I was so much younger than everyone else in my hostel. I spent many nights alone and crying. I drank alone (supplied by older room (non) mates). At the lowest point here, one young guy from my hostel got so worried about me he slept all night on the floor of my room to make sure I didn't jump off the roof. I wish I could have seen then, that HE and probebly many others actually cared about me and must've wanted me around. Hindsight is amazing. I quit uni and moved back home. Everything improved.
    I moved away to uni again at 18/19 years. Homesick again..but living with a bestie. OH the grief I caused her with my depression. Thankfully panadol and wine sometimes doesn't work all that well as a means to an end. My bestie took me to the doc and got me some help...things improved. But I still went/go up and down at times, but life as I know it now is WONDEFUL


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