Once again it has been way to long since I have blogged anything, but as we all know life keeps you super busy. Since I last blogged so much has happened. I have met the man of my dreams and we are now engaged, I have the cutest little step son Alex and I have two very cuddly, very adorable fur babies. So much time has passed. So many things have happened. So much good and equally as much bad, which brings me to the reason for this blog.
I suffer from anxiety and depression. It is not something I have always battled but, it is something that i never truly acknowledged within myself until it was a bit too late. In saying that however, I do not mean too late as in suicidal. I mean too late as in I had to have a breakdown to realise that the silence I was keeping hidden was destroying me. My mom could see it, my fiancé could see it even some of my friends could see it but, I remained consciously ignoring it.
Today marks one year since I moved out of my family home and down to Hamilton. Leaving behind my mother, father, sister and little brother to continue life's journey. I remember my first few months in Hamilton. I felt so alone. I cried many times in those first few weeks. Longing for my family and wishing I could turn back and go home. I chose to carry on forwards and to stop looking back and eventually everything settled. Getting in a habitual routine really helped with things those first few months. I found somewhere to salsa and once I had music and dance life settled into a steady rhythm. I met William at salsa and by August we became an official couple.
Time moved forward and at times life was a roller coaster ride that I wanted to jump off of but, persistently followed.
Enter 2014.
What many people did not know, outside of my family. Was all the things going on in my life that i felt I could not talk to anyone about. Sure i spoke to my mom about how I felt but, sometimes that is not enough. My gran was diagnosed with breast cancer at the beginning of the year (after already having beaten cancer once before) and about four days after this I found out my cousin had tried to kill himself after hearing the news. I felt helpless. I felt even worse that I was not with my family. With my dad, at this time when he needed people who understood, when he needed family. I felt defeated that he could not fly across the world to South Africa to be with his mother. On the path of my cousin, I felt as though I had been a bad cousin. Like I had not been reaching out enough to him. That I was not there when he needed me most. It is hard though. Hard to be there all the time when oceans and timezones separate families. I had never truly understood the impact that was caused when we moved to New Zealand until this year. I had always enjoyed being here and enjoyed the life that I have now. The life I live because of a sacrifice my parents made to give us a better life. I now truly appreciate that sacrifice even though it can be a double edged sword sometimes.
Just after all of this one of my friends who was in Australia to study and au pair went through her own trials as her family in South Africa were hijacked, tied up and robbed at gun point. My heart bled for her. Knowing how this feels. To be so far away from your family and hear that kind of news. All us expats know that those 3am wake up calls never mean anything good. I could feel her pain. My own grandparents had been hijacked since we moved here. Our family friend brutally murdered. Those things haunt you. Survivors "guilt" is a very real experience. To feel helpless. To feel bad for not being there. It is something that a lot of us live with but not all of us discuss with some people. After all, how do you talk about these things with people who do not understand what it is like. With people who can not sympathise with you on that level. It is not an easy road.
ANGELIQUE:
As some of you will know I have never had an amazing sibling relationship with Angelique. We grew up constantly fighting and under appreciating our sisterly bond. We (especially me) spent a lot of her younger years always fighting with each other and being down right nasty and horrible to one another. So when it came to me leaving the house last year, I realised how much time I had thrown away with her and have been trying to mend our relationship ever since. Do not get me wrong we can still have our good arguments with one another but, nothing will ever break this new bond we share. Some of you will know that last year Angel was diagnosed with Pain Syndrome. A disease that messes with the nerves and brain and leaves the patient in excruciating unreasonable pain. It started with her legs and slowly and progressively moved throughout her body. At some points causing her so much pain she could not work and as a result she missed a lot of school. I have not told many people this but, being away from her in those times was so hard. For her to be going through all of that and for me as her big sister not being there for her was unbearable. I felt responsible for not being there. I used to carry that burden of silence with me everyday. Then she got better and things were fine for a while. Bring in this year and wham more bad news. I get a phone call one day from my mother explaining that my sister, my little Angel has a fast growing bone tumour. At this stage known of us knew what to expect. We did not know if the tumour was malignant or benign. We just knew that it was growing and causing Angel a lot of pain. More doctor visits and trips to Starship later Angel was scheduled for surgery. Closely surrounded by the surgeon, her operating team and her pain team she underwent the surgery to remove the tumour. Being there was so hard. It was worse then not being there. To see how much she has had to grow up over the past two years. You sit back and observe her talking to the doctors, as if she is an adult and you wonder to yourself, "why her?". She is a little girl who should be running around free outside and enjoying barbie dolls still. Getting into all those preteen things like boys and make-up. She should not have to be taking medication everyday like old people do. She should not have to be confined to the four walls of her bedroom or to the many walls of the house because she is in so much pain.
All of this started becoming just too much for me to handle and one day a few weeks ago I just lost it. Dealing with hives that started occurring out of no where again, like a couple years back. Consistently being sick myself and catching every little virus or bacterial infection in the air. I just could not deal with life anymore. Life became simply too much to bear and I broke down. I screamed. I cried. I shook uncontrollably. Still I stayed silent. Silent to all my fears. Silent to the self realisation that I was not ok. That I was not in the bright happy place my face showed to all the people around me. I realised that the path I had chosen so long ago had now led me here. To this moment of self destruction. This moment where I became nothing more then an empty shell. It took a lot for me to approach my doctor about this. It took even more for me to be open to my mother about how I had been feeling for so long. Having to acknowledge that certain things that I felt bad about were out of my control and not my fault. It is no easy task to step back from life and say "I have a problem." To stand back and reach out for help. No one on this earth likes to be seen as being weak or vulnerable. What makes this harder though is when you do try and reach out and people tell you that you are being silly and ridiculous. That all of this is only in your head. I think back to many years ago when i felt this same way. When I felt constantly held down. Some people noticed whereas, others did not. Those who did notice often turned me away saying I was being stupid. I now realise that what they were saying is that, they did not understand what it was like to feel so hopeless. They had no concept of what it was like to wake up some days and not be able to drag yourself out of bed. What it was like to cry for hours for no other reason then because you were feeling so worthless.
Depression/Anxiety is something that some people in society do not really like to acknowledge. However, I have come to realise it is OK. It is alright to have a bad day and be honest about it. It is ok to get up some days and not smile because you are feeling blue. It is ok to have those days where you can not get out of bed because all you want to do is hide away from the world. It is those days though, where people truly need friends and family though. A person on there own can not combat this. I know. I tried and failed miserably. Knowing now that very few people are there for me if ever I start slipping again is something that although small, means the world to me. I know now that I can always reach out to people, to family and those whom I truly mean the world to will be there to catch me when I fall. To realise that when I am not at work and people actually notice means the world. It is all the small things I see these days. All the small things I acknowledge.
I climb one step at a time these days. Stitching life back together one tiny little significant stitch at a time. Reaching a new goal every week. I also know that even though I get so far up my wellness ladder and then get knocked back down every now and again. I have been at my lowest and even though I have my days where i fall flat you can only go up from where you land.
