Taking Responsibility

DISCLAIMER - This is not the post I thought it would be two weeks ago. None the less, this post is going to touch upon difficult, upsetting and sometimes adult topics. Anyone who is easily disturbed or worried by thoughts of death should leave now and enjoy some of the lighter posts on this blog.

A fortnight ago I went into work, told them I couldn't cope at the moment, handed over my work to someone else and went home. The next day I went to the doctor's and told her that my depression had got to the stage I was contemplating suicide.

This is an extreme position; many people cannot understand how you can reach this point. Personally it was a combination of factors, some of which I understand and some of which are a mystery, even to me. Part of the purpose of this post is to try and organise my thoughts and help me heal.

It is necessary to look at the immediate causes of my crisis first, other posts might cover more long term issues. About two months ago I found I was becoming depressed. This was not the first time, although I had been free from it for around five years, and the thought of it scared me more than I would have believed. Perhaps this was because previously I had gone as low as it is possible to go and been suicidal. So I both talked to my friends and went to the doctor for help. There I was listened to for what felt like the first time and the doctor started me on a course of treatment.

But depression involves a lot more than just feeling down. There's the sleep deprivation, anxiety, restlessness, inability to concentrate and lack of judgement. And it was the last two of these that were going to make things worse, because work had demanding deadlines and there were already warning signs on the horizon, if I had had the ability to see them. Instead, I carried on as if nothing was the problem, as I knew I had the ability to do the work expected of me. Except, at this time I didn't.

Eventually it began to dawn on me that I wasn't going to make the deadlines without pulling my finger out and I decided to put in some extra hours over the weekend. I thought being in a quieter environment would help the concentration. Instead, at lunchtime on the Sunday it suddenly came home to me what a total hash I was making of everything. It was like hitting a brick wall. I couldn't think, I couldn't move, I couldn't even breathe.

I tidied up and walked home. On the way home all I could think about was how awful the situation at work was. How there was no way I could put things right with my mind as full of holes as it had been recently. There must have been a reasonable chance that my failure to deliver would result in financial penalties for the company. It seemed quite reasonable that the only way to atone for my failure was to kill myself. I guess it is the same sort of state of mind as when a Japanese person considers Seppuku. Pain has always scared me, so disembowlment was out, but I turned over the options and decided on what I hoped was a easy way to go.

I spent most of the rest of the day trying not to cry, but it would have been impossible to hide how I felt from my husband and so I explained that I had mucked up at work and I wasn't sure that there would be a job for me on Monday. Then I tried to be as normal as possible, intending to kill myself that night. But I had been at this point before and mental defences that I had built twenty years before came into action. I began to see the hurt I would cause my husband and daughter. I realised that my death would not atone for my actions and there were people who would feel unreasonably responsible for my death. So that night I held on tight to my husband and the next morning I set in train the events I first described.

Now, at some point, I have to go back and take responsibility for my failure. I don't think I'm strong enough for that yet. Just telling you about this has been unbelievably hard. And although medication is helping my depression, it hasn't cured most of the symptoms. Most especially, it hasn't sorted out the holes in my head that mean I can't concentrate or remember anything for more than a couple of minutes. I'd also like to understand the initial cause of my depression. The doctor suggested counselling for that, but I haven't organised it yet. I'm finding it very hard to do the simplest of things, to be honest.

But I can leave you with the thought that I'm no longer in danger of killing myself. Some of the minutes and hours of life quite fun again; others are a battle with a dark cloud, but I'm fairly sure it will pass. And if you've reached here, I'd like to thank you for taking the time to join me in my journey back to full health.