Today’s edition of The Raven’s Causes is quite a personal one. Today. I finally relented and visited a doctor who prescribed me anti-depressants. For years I’ve avoided taking the path of medication out of simple fear. Fear of being labelled, fear of knowing that any future employer will see only the diagnosis, and nothing else.
Despite the fear, I had no choice, my personal and my work life was becoming seriously affected, and for the first time in a long, long time, I had thoughts of self-harm circling my mind. For the last few months, little voices, right in the back of my head, kept reminding me how the world would be better off without me.
A few weeks back, whilst cooking in the kitchen, temptation hit the hardest. I glanced across at the knife in my hands, and the thought of cutting across to reveal a crimson river was insanely appealing. Luckily, being in the knowledge that there were others around me that would interrupt any attempt of self harming, so I managed to put the thought back into its place.
The hardest change has been at work however, I am required to interact with people on a daily basis, and it makes it impossible to perform when you are unable to look at people in the face. Whilst my performance at work has not suffered dramatically, it has however been noticed, especially when I was close to suffering a panic attack right in front of my rather concerned boss.
Growing up, I’ve had to deal with my parents at different stages in their lives, trying to commit suicide, and knowing what I went through with that, makes me want to ensure that I don’t put my kids through that myself. This was the sole reason I visited the doctor today to begin with.
The long road to recovery starts from here, and for the sake of my sanity, and my life, it was something that needed to be done. I dread to think how far things could have gone had I not acted now. Truth is, there will probably never be a time wherein I am fully recovered. I still have a lot of things that torment me daily from my past, but at least, this will make it become controllable, bearable, and hopefully easier to cope with.
I don’t know what the future holds, or whether I’ll even have a job come the end of my probation period, but frankly, as of right now, I don’t really care. My main focus is getting better, not for myself, but for my three kids, so that they never have to wonder just why Daddy has tried to hurt himself, or why Daddy isn’t around to see them growing up. Life may be hell at times, but I am not putting them through that.
Until next time,