It’s strange to admit that I am trapped in an abusive relationship with myself.
It’s no secret that I don’t keep well. For the past few months I have been pretty stable and predictable. My black dog had been a quiet companion. Everything has been okay.
But for the past fortnight things have gone back to the way they were.
The black dog tells me that I am nothing – a waste of space and time, and that perhaps I should just vanish. That way, people will no longer be burdened with me. I will no longer be a problem. I will no longer be someone that my friends and family find shameful. I will no longer be an embarrassment.
The burden has been so bad that I have self-harmed twice. I haven’t had to do that since August.
I usually keep these feelings to myself. But not today.
Today, I am reaching out and asking for help.
Not just for myself, but for everybody out there who experiences depression in all its forms. We need to fight this, but we can’t do it alone. We need people around us – even if you don’t fully understand. We need friends and family to help us hold on, to remain here.
Help us hold on.