So, I’ve decided to start a blog.
I’m 20 years old, and I live with my husband, 3-year old daughter and 6-month old son in England.
My blog is mainly going to be about my daily struggle with anxiety and depression. I’ve been suffering for just over 3 years now, but it’s gotten a lot worse since I gave birth to my son last October. My husband is wonderfully supportive, but I’m still finding life in general overwhelming. I’m hoping that blogging will be therapeutic for me in the midst of my inner turmoil, and I also hope that perhaps if anyone reads this who struggles with similar things, it will help reassure them that they are not alone.
My life is full of so many wonderful things, mainly my beautiful little family. But because of the anxiety and depression that plague me on a daily basis, I’m generally unable to find joy in living. I live a life of fear and tension and negativity within my mind, and a lot of the time it’s difficult for me to separate the rational from the irrational.
When I was younger, I was judgmental of people who said they had depression. I saw it as an excuse, I thought that if they really wanted to they’d be able to snap out of it and feel happier. But now, suffering with it myself, I realise how wrong I was! I wish I could be rid of this illness. I wish I could look at the world optimistically and joyfully. But sometimes that feels impossible, hindered by the obstacles in my own mind.
A couple of months ago, my parents decided to separate, which hasn’t helped. It’s blown my world apart. Growing up, they used to be a solid, unmovable thing, and I could never imagine their marriage dissolving. But it’s happened, and it seems unlikely that they’ll ever patch things up again now. Too much damage has been done, to them and to my siblings and me. It makes me fearful for my own marriage, and I fear that one day I might inflict on my children the pain my parents are currently inflicting on me. I know we all have freedom to choose, but right now the world seems very dark to me and fear dominates a lot of my thinking. I’m trying to get through it, I’m trying to do the best I can for my children, but even though I’m doing all I can to make their days happy, I feel like it’s not enough.
Anxiety and depression are cruel, ruthless diseases of the mind, and I’ve now lived with them for so long that I can’t remember what it’s like to live without them. I hope that one day I can be better, but in the meantime I know all I can do is try my hardest, treat each day as a new day, and be grateful for my blessings.