Young, in love and depressed
Before I go any further I have to emphasise that my relationship is not the cause of my depression (don’t want my SO to get the wrong idea aha). If anything, it’s quite the opposite. And I must also confess that this was supposed to be a Valentine's post – but I was a bit busy spending quality time with the person I don’t see as often as I would like to as well as being ill (#SorryNotSorry if you caught my cold). Anyway – onto what I would really like to say, as opposed to just waffling which I tend to do a lot – as you can tell because I'm doing it now. Okay I'll stop.
I always had this idea in my head that once I found the right person they would magically make all my problems disappear. They would be the antidote to this poison. Then I reached a point where I believed, with every bone in my body, that no-one would want me. I am damaged goods. No-one in their right mind would want to be with me. I also felt like I might not be able to be with anyone. The triggers would be too intense for both myself and them to handle. I wouldn’t let them touch my skin because it still burned. I’d have nothing to give them because it was all taken. So I gave up on love. Just like I had given up on myself. I know this is incredibly cliché (I do love a good cliché) but that's when I found it.
The butterflies, the racing heart (which for once wasn’t from an anxiety attack) and the smile that didn’t seem to fade. It hit me in the face. I started listening to love songs again – I didn't realise how much I'd missed them. I found my rainbow in the rain. Alongside that came back my belief that my long-time companions (depression and anxiety) would cease to exist and be replaced with this newly discovered zest for life. I wouldn’t need my meds because I had him. This wasn’t true.
My episodes still occur, I'm still super sensitive - some days a small comment results in me questioning my entire existence on this planet. I still get triggered (the real triggered – not the insensitive term used as a synonym for offended), I still get flashbacks, nightmares, I still cry and get overwhelmed. I’m still depressed. But this time, I have someone with me. Standing by me. Supporting me. Someone who likes how I look without make up, whose favourite pictures of me are the ones when I don't know he’s taking them, who holds me tight and wipes my tears. I never imagined what it would be like to be in love and to be depressed simultaneously. I didn’t think it would be like this. There are moments when I feel guilty, they shouldn't have to put up with me, they don't deserve this. Moments when I’m convinced he’ll leave because it’ll get too much. Moments when I’m completely numb and can’t feel anything. And moments when I am completely content with a wave of calm absorbing every fibre of my being. I guess you could say it's an intense rollercoaster, but we like rollercoasters.