If you’re new to my blog you might want to read ‘The Real Me’ to put this blog into context.

The past two weeks I’ve been focussing on getting healthy so I have more energy. This came out of getting fed up of of feeling “meh” far too often. The depression has retreated for now but I’m still feeling a bit flat. I thought a fortnight of doing all the right stuff would have me dancing on the rooftops. It hasn’t. Though I have lost 4lb along the way. However that wasn’t meant to be my motivation, just a happy side effect. I’ve realised it’s time to just take stock of everything.

My sister did point out that a hell of a lot has happened in the past twelve months and perhaps my brain and body is just trying to catch up. It all started just over a year ago with being bullied at work. I’ve been bullied and suffered depression before, but it was only when I finally fell apart and I opened up about it that I realised how bad it had become. I didn’t say anything sooner because I was paranoid that I had made it all up. My sister who had seen me go through being bullied as a child and teenager, and suffering depression from my teen years onward, said that she had never seen me totally lose all confidence in every part of my life like I did with the bullying and depression this time round.

I don’t think the bullying caused the depression. I think that had been bubbling under the surface for the best part of a year. It was thing that shoved me off the edge. Although the person who bullied me moved to a different job, I couldn’t face trying to rebuild my reputation in a team where almost everyone was new in the past six months (that was how the bullying was so effective, my network had moved on). Even without all this I had been planning to leave the following summer as I knew it wasn’t the career for me.

The bullying had been going on for two or three months by the time everything came crashing down. Within five or six weeks I had handed in my notice and left. Applied for and got a new job. Moved out of my house in London. And I was off to New York for a holiday that had been planned for eighteen months. During this time I also had to deal with the guilt of how I’d upturned others lives in the process. My housemate, best mate, Suzi, had to move in between doing exams at a stressed point in her life. She also had to live with a depressed Helen. I was affecting my family and needing more support than ever. The overriding feeling was that I wanted to disappear for a couple of months, sort everything out on my own and then turn up and say look everyone it’s fine. I just didn’t want to affect anyone else.

But before I left London I went on anti-depressants for the first time in my life. Although I had two months between my old job and new, there wasn’t much time “off”. The first fortnight was manic, leaving parties, moving, going to New York. Once I got back I needed to find somewhere to live in the North East and the Christmas took over. Before I new it I was starting my new life. I knew I didn’t have time to fall apart so I needed the medication to keep me on track.

However one side effect is weight gain. By the time it got to Christmas I’d put on a stone and a half. A few months later I discovered the average weight gain on Citalopram is two to three stone, which made me feel great for all of a few hours. But I have just felt wretched most of the time. As I’d been moving towards depression the weight had crept on (comfort eating is the bain of my life) and over the previous 12 months had probably gained a stone. But to put on another stone and a half in the space of a month or so was hideous. When you’re starting a new job in a new place you want to feel fabulous. I just felt fat. I wanted to have some big neon sign saying “I know I look like a heffa, but I’m on medication, I’m not just a big fatty who can’t be bothered”.

I started my new job. And eventually started counselling too. I’ve found it so hard to make friends. I have met lots of lovely people, and the situation is improving now, but despite outward confidence and my apparent ease with socialising, inside I feel very socially awkward. There are times when I just prefer to be by myself, as being with people, whether old friends or new, is just hard work. So that’s been a huge barrier at times and made me feel very lonely. I’ve never felt homesick in my life, but the way I miss my best friends at times is probably similar to that.

And then I came off anti-depressants, which was just the most awful month. My moods swung from high to low. My sleep was all over the place. Everything felt out of sync and my head didn’t know what was going on. At this point I’d known the only close friend I’d made in Durham about a month and he got the full whack of my uncontrollable emotions. But my attitude was ‘at least now I’m going to lose all this medication weight’. Wrong.

Eventually the emotions and moods settled down. I became more confident that the depression had lifted and made some breakthroughs at counselling. I’ve also been through a whole bit of relationship stuff (which isn’t just mine to discuss hence the brevity). I finished counselling about three weeks ago and then I thought I’d do this whole holiday thing. Positive thinking, positive actions. The power of positive thought, et al.

But writing all of this makes me see that perhaps I do need to give myself a break. I’m haven’t written this for sympathy, many people go through and survive situations that are much worse.Ultimately the changes I’ve made in my life as a result of everything will be for the better in the long term.

I just want to be able to accept how I’m feeling and keep doing the good stuff I’m doing. I’m just tired of things being difficult. I’m tired of being a difficult person and I just want to get on with being happy and enjoying life. But for now I need to learn to be kind to myself and love myself again. Because after all of this I need some TLC.