Being a sufferer and being a victim are different things. Suffering is being affected by an illness or experiencing something bad or unpleasant. A Victim is a person who has been harmed physically or mentally. I am a sufferer of a mental illness, but I am not it’s victim and I refuse to continue letting it control my life. In the moment of writing this I feel empowered to gain back control of my life and crush the illness down until it’s set me free. I may feel differently tomorrow.
That’s the thing about depression, every day is a gamble of moods. I’ll either be so low I can’t get out of bed or I’ll be somewhere in between low and happy, but wake up ready for the day. If I could predict how I’d feel tomorrow I’d have a better handle on the illness and have a lot more control, however as it stands I still can’t tell if I’ll be okay to get up tomorrow morning and face the day. This is the next step in my recovery. Working on myself until my days no longer feel like a chore.
This is hands down the hardest illness I have ever had to deal with. It’s so hard to fight something that has already wormed it’s way to the core of my being and refuses to shift with out the biggest fight I’ve ever been involved in. There are worse illnesses, but to me this is the worst one I have personally experienced. I’m trying so hard to keep my happy face on, but some days honestly just overwhelm and exhaust me to the point that I can’t deal with the evenings or the days after.
I guess the good thing is that I am putting up a fight. I still have the will and capability to stand up and say “this is wrong, let’s change it”. Other people with the same illness can’t do that and I honestly don’t blame them. When even brushing your hair has become a chore it takes a lot of strength to continue getting up every day. Strength I am slowly gaining through socialising again and being back at work (Although a couple days of work have been missed because of depression since I returned from sick leave).
My friend held a party this week which I attended after much dread and crying about going. I went, and for a brief moment I was myself again. Laughing, smiling, sharing stories, singing. I will always see this party as a turning moment in my recovery, as the thing that reminded me of my strength and encouraged me to use it. If things feel hard I’ll remember how good it felt to genuinely laugh and smile again, I’ll remember that despite my feelings of dread I was strong enough to get dressed and go to a social event.
To describe what happened that night, it felt like the black cloud shadowing me from the sun parted so I got a glimpse of the light. The light that I can strive for. The light that will save me from the continual darkness looming over me. The light that will give me a better life. The light that has been lost for so long. The thing about dark clouds is that they move on and I can’t wait for the day that this one leaves me.
I am not a victim and I refuse to continue suffering because I am better than this illness.