Hello my friends!

I want to talk about this insidious beast we call depression, at least how it fits in my life. Ordinarily, I joke about it, but it is very serious.

I think about death most of the time. I say this not to alarm you, but to say that this is my experience. I read recently about types of suicidality and realized that I am in the gray area. The area where there is obviously a problem, but it isn’t necessary for emergency services to be called. I still see the line as a line.

I don’t think I really want to miss out on life; I am more tired of life beating the crap out of me. Being sick has ruined my life. I am not expecting pity, just stating how I feel and how the world seems to me.

I have struggled with mental illness issues for years, maybe all the way back to when I was about 11. I interpreted my needs as burdens to my parents. They never said that, but I always felt that I wasn’t quite deserving of all that they did.

As life went on and I experienced sexual abuse and developed an eating disorder and eventually moved to having manic and depressive episodes, all going undiagnosed, I developed deadly coping skills. I tried to kill myself in college, right before graduation. I was 21.

Throughout graduate school, I was in and out of hospitals and had two surgeries for my birth defect, in addition to depositions for the sexual abuse. I spent hours being told that, at thirteen, I seduced a middle-aged man who was supposed to be taking care of me. The depression and eating disorder and self-harm continued.

I was about 26 when I was diagnosed with bipolar. By then, I had racked up (in one month) $30,000 worth of debt, including buying a new car. I was beyond manic. I then crashed horribly and started thinking about death constantly. I stayed alive for my pets. I still stay alive for my dog.

I don’t know if any of you reading this can understand the depth of feeling and frustration that goes into managing mental health symptoms. Combine that with pain and hormonal imbalances and life is beyond difficult. It feels impossible.

Author: Darlene Milam

So, a little bit about me. I am a coffee lover, animal lover, and book reader extraordinaire. Not really the extraordinaire part. I want to be the next great American novelist, or memoirist. I am recovering from anorexia and engaging in daily battles with managing mental illness and other physical health problems. I believe in the power of healing through writing and want to share my story so others know they are not alone. Please comment, ask questions, like, and enjoy reading.

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