Finding my silver lining

I write a lot about mental health, but don’t really talk about myself. Sure, you know that I have depression and social anxiety, but I never talk about my family, my friends, my hobbies, anything outside of my mental health. I feel that up to this point, my personal blog has lacked personality. So on that note, I thought I would do a little update about my life.

Last time I updated you was just before I went back to university (and before that was my very first blog post) and it was hardly a positive post. Well, I moved back at the end of September, decorated my room with lots of lights and pictures in one afternoon and collapsed. Up until a few days ago, that was the most positive experience I’d had of uni this year.

I spent the next few days dropping back into old habits – hiding under my covers, self-harming and becoming a recluse. I had meetings and fairs to be a part of for the two societies I’ve joined – a film production society and the university paper – and I still managed to drag myself out of bed for them, but I was hardly the Sian I was striving to be. In fact, I didn’t even care about her any more. I wallowed in self-pity, asking myself why me? What had I done wrong to deserve to feel like this every single day?

I went a couple of days not speaking to my new flatmates, whether out of fear or a lack of care I don’t know, which made my new home feel so much less like home. Then, one day, I got a knock on my door from the person next door and we walked around together meeting everyone else in the flat. I thought that this may make everything okay again, but I was wrong. I put on my biggest smile for the new people (who actually turned out to be lovely guys), but inside I wanted to scurry back to my safety, where no-one would talk to me ever again.

But what was just last week now seems like a lifetime ago. Because I wasn’t settling in very well, my boyfriend organised a last minute trip up to Lancaster and we spent the day together exploring the city – something I haven’t done myself in my whole uni lifetime. He went shopping with me to help me work in my new, ridiculously low, weekly budget and even bought a care package up from my best friend. We cuddled up for the afternoon and it was a fantastic day that I couldn’t have dreamed of in this dreary city, but I still felt like the air was crushing me, like my depression was taking over every part of my body.

I don’t know what really changed it, but I feel it may have been my fear of the doctors – I’d never been to the university doctors and the idea of going alone to tell them that I was feeling suicidal again seemed like a nightmare. But I had to help myself somehow. I didn’t want to feel this way for the rest of my life because it hurt. It hurt like nothing else had hurt before. So I decided to stand up for myself. In a flurry of tears, I messaged the people who meant most to me and told them what wasn’t helping, that I didn’t want to be compared to people who had gotten through this much quicker than I had. They reassured me that they would be proud of me no matter how long it took to rid depression from my daily life, just so long as I kept trying.

It felt like a huge weight had been lifted. No-one expected me to have the perfect recovery. There is no perfect recovery. Once you start getting better, you’re going to trip over hurdles and that’s okay. It’s okay to feel low again. No-one is going to judge you for it, because like with any illness, depression is a bitch to beat and it’s going to be hard. At the moment I feel like I can work on being me again, I can start to bring back the confident Sian who loves being around people and loves people looking up to her. There were people I had to work with that were getting me down, but I’m starting to stand up to them. I am just as good as anyone else at this university, I can get onto my Masters course next year and I have skills that other people would love to learn. I also know that if I fall back into depression again, it’s okay. I can always climb back out. I fully expect to have awful days where I just don’t want to be around anymore. But with my friends and family by my side, I’m going to pick myself up and keep ploughing forward.

I’m currently sat in the office of my university paper, staring at InDesign and dreaming up all the different designs I can do for the paper. I’m planning my next articles. They aren’t going to stay dreams either; they are fully within my grasp. I have never been more set on where I want to be – I love journalism, next year I’m going to be in Sheffield spending every weekday on what I love. I know that if I keep pushing myself I can make it and frankly, I’m a little proud of myself.

You should be too, because I know you can feel the same way.