I’ve fallen into the deepest depths.

And just like that- the black dog bites again.

Well, it didn’t bite that suddenly, I’ve felt like crap for quite some time now… I mean I’ve had feelings of worthlessness my whole life and the depression has been with me, I mean REALLY WITH ME for over 11 1/2 years now.
I guess it has just slumped to a new low over the past couple of months- since I got sick with the bad bug going around and then hurting my back twice in 4 days right as I was starting to get better from the initial illness that made me feel horrible.

It’s hard talking about it, especially to people who haven’t experienced it themselves. I am happy to talk about how I feel, but I am usually left made to feel that I am just trying to get attention, made to feel that I’m a spoilt brat who has a hissy fit if I don’t get my way. Others seem to get upset and angry with me when I don’t “just snap out of it”.

I wish I could snap out of it and grow up a bit.
I really do. It would make life so much easier.
You know what?! If I could choose to snap in or out of my depression and anxiety just like that- I’d choose not to be bloody depressed or anything to start with!!!!!

Happiness surrounds my life. I’m constantly seeing strangers, friends and family members enjoying themselves. I mean really enjoying themselves. They look so full of life and so happy.

I want to be happy. There are things in life that I used to thoroughly enjoy, I still enjoy doing them, but I just can’t seem to be happy or show how glad I am anymore.

It makes me feel like a heartless bitch. I hate that word, I really do. But it’s how I feel about myself.

Since I hurt my back and it resulted in me being “stuck” in bed for a length of time I have been able to complete a number of needlework tapestries.
I guess when I do tapestry, it’s a form of meditation for me. It could be the repetition of feeding the needle and thread up and down through the holes in the canvas that I find relaxing. It’s almost hypnotic I guess. I wouldn’t say I go into a trance when stitching, but I do find it helpful a lot of the time. It allows me to forget about my troubles and pain to an extent, it keeps my mind busy as I think about where the needle will next go.
The worst thing though, is that I feel hopeless to an extent, it is as though I am being excessively selfish, greedy and thoughtless towards my husband and children and the extended family.

I grew up with my Mum doing a lot of crafts… I guess she spent much of her time doing craft and buying me supplies to do various crafts too that I just assumed it was a normal part of everyday life. That is one thing I do give my Mum credit for. Not stopping me from doing creative things.
She may not have had the best mothering skills, but she did buy me a lot of things, she kept me clothed in clothes I was happy to wear, she was always buying me craft supplies for the new craft ideas and plans I had and she’d keep me well supplied with junk food… Looking back on it now, I wish she had’ve been a bit stricter there, but she ate a lot of rubbish herself so I guess it was just a case of monkey see monkey do.
By what I can remember, Mum used to buy me all those things because she’d say she really did love me and would prove it that way- by buying me materialistic things to make up for all the times she’d yell at me saying that I should never had been born, how I was an accident, how she wished I never existed, saying that my father was scum (I’ve never met him and nothing was really said about him so how was I to know if he was a good or bad man?), the gifts also made up for all the other hurtful things I had to listen to, for the times she smacked me for doing something she didn’t think was right, for the times she ignored me in front of her other friends because I had the hide to speak up and tell her not to drink or smoke (She was never a drinker or smoker, but her “friends” pretty much made her drink and smoke when she was around them), for the times she raised a hand at me, threatened me…
I think the reason why I didn’t really say anything was because I was an only child and knew it was my fault… well, I assumed it was my fault as I had no one else around me who could have caused all that. My Nan and Pop had taught me good manners, I knew not to talk back to my elders (well, except for those times Mum made me snap when she was doing what I thought was wrong things), surely Mum wouldn’t have said all those nasty things if they were lies…

Maybe that’s why my anxiety is now at an all time high when I go to visit Nan and Mum. Mum still snaps, but these days I am a grown adult with my own children and I feel that I have to stand up for my kids and not let them be treated the same way that Mum behaved around me. Mum still yells at us, she greets us at the door with an “Oh, It’s you- you won’t be here long will you?”, she tells my kids to “Go play on the freeway” or if she’s having a bad day, any of us will be told to simply “Fuck Off!” although that is usually muttered under her breath but loud enough for us all to hear it.
I do try to visit Nan when Mum’s gone out, but it doesn’t always work out that way.

I’m sure Mum needs help, I’m sure she has some Mental Health issues going on too- I’m sure she’s undiagnosed but unfortunately it’s a very taboo topic at Nan’s house. If anything is even subtly mentioned about Mum going to see a decent doctor, Nan says “You know your Mum gets a bit nervy and such, you’ve just got to give her room, give her space and ignore her until she’s come to her senses again”.

As easy as it would be to turn my back on her, she’s still my Mum.
Some days I do think it would be easier if she wasn’t around but she’s my Mum and I guess I just have to make do with who she is and hope I don’t see her too much on her bad days.

I want to be the best Mum I can possibly be for my kids (and the best wife I can be for my hubby) but with the flashbacks I almost constantly have from my childhood, I am often left doubting myself, scared I am turning into my own mother- the person who I was often scared of back then, and even now- I don’t like being around her too much for fear of being put down or having her say bad things about me to my kids.

I know I need more help myself, but I just don’t know how much more I can take. I have a number of “Invisible illnesses/issues” that affect me quite a bit on a daily level, but because no one else can see them, I am made to feel that I am faking it.

That is what hurts the most- to think that those who I love, think I am faking my problems.

When explaining why I am afraid to do certain things is due to flashbacks makes me feel like I am worthless and selfish- that’s what hurts and cuts deep. It is worse than rubbing salt into a wound.

Some days I wonder if everyone would be better off without me around. I could easily disappear and I am sure no one would miss me.
The only thing stopping me doing that though is me. I am too scared of the consequences. What would happen to those I leave behind?

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