Four years ago, I had no hope.  Life was just a struggle that I couldn’t cope with.  I wanted to end it. I could see no future. Life scared me.  I’d lost the ability to think rationally, and I felt great guilt that I had brought three children into the world because now, they too would have to suffer life.  Herein lay the trap; I couldn’t end my life, as I couldn’t bear the thought of their suffering, but I didn’t want to live either.

I have recently re-entered education; I’ve started a Postgraduate professional writing course. I look back now and see the last four years as a journey; a journey that has helped me to re-evaluate my life. It has led me to the path I am now taking. I would like to share my story with anyone feeling hopeless; to show that there is a future, that you can have hope again. 

At the beginning, as well as hating myself, I was incapable of looking after myself, let alone anyone else.  The simplest of tasks, such as cooking a meal, seemed insurmountable. It was like a switch had turned off all my life skills. This inevitably increased my guilt.  As a mother, I felt I had abandoned my children. Despite the doctor and friends telling me it would get better,  I couldn’t imagine a time when my state of mind would change.

Patience, I think, was the first lesson I needed to learn.  After six months, impatient to be useful again, I returned to work on a part time basis. I was still suffering from depression and terrible anxiety, and in retrospect, I should have stayed away longer. It wasn’t long before I was off work again. This set up the pattern for the next couple of years: work for a while, then off again. I was impatient to be a contributing member of society, and I failed to look into the reasons why I was depressed, and to work on them.

I did take steps forward, but these were followed by two steps back. Looking back, I realise this was ok, but at the time I condemned myself for the steps back, and never really congratulated myself on the steps forward.  I went through cognitive behavioural therapy over this period, and I learnt to challenge negative thoughts; I learnt to look at them from a different perspective. Some days I was unable to challenge, seeing no positive alternatives, but on other days I could talk myself out of negativity. 

I was diagnosed with generalised anxiety disorder (GAD), and depression. Having this diagnosis was helpful to me. When I tried at something, and failed, I knew it was the illness, not me. I stopped being so hard on myself when I realised I had always suffered from anxiety. I understood that the symptoms were heightened, at that time, due to the depression. 

As you settle into depression, you learn how to manage it. I had a good job, working in adult career’s information and advice. I stayed there, but changed my role, which gave me a different, more manageable, position. This worked for a while. However, the bureaucracy began to get me down, so I left and found a job in a health food shop. I beat myself up about not being able to cope with the responsibility, and taking such a drop in wages as well as status. However, for me it was the best option. I was doing what I needed to do, and not overloading myself.

With less stress at work, I was able to start looking at why I was suffering from depression.  Evaluating my life wasn’t easy. One of the hardest things I had to do was to end a 21-year relationship with my husband. Over the years we had both changed: the relationship no longer worked. It was hard, but also good for both of us, as we were able to follow our dreams, without the restrictions we brought to each other. 

After losing my job I decided not to look for another, but to work instead on sorting myself out.  This decision not to work was invaluable in my recovery. I was able to realise what my dreams were, my hopes for the future. I had always wanted, in the back of my mind, to write, but never believed in myself enough to take it up seriously. So when a friend of mine mentioned this course, after giving it a lot of thought, I decided to apply.  

A year ago, I couldn’t even sit in a group of people: my heart would beat fast and I would sweat profusely, feeling like I wanted the ground to swallow me up. I was easily overwhelmed, and I couldn’t look anyone in the eyes. Often I couldn’t hold back the tears. Now I can sit in a classroom with 25 people, active within the group, and enjoying it.

I still suffer from depression and anxiety, but I’ve learnt how to manage it. I know I need to monitor my tiredness, and take a break when I need one. When I feel down, I take it a day at a time, because I know that usually within the next couple of days, I’ll feel positive again.  When I get anxious in a class, I know it’s just me, that’s the way I am. It will never stop me giving all to my writing. 

Without going through these past few years, I may not have ended up doing what I’m doing now. Starting this course is an achievement, something I wouldn’t have been able to do a year ago. It did take time, and a lot of work, but now life seems exciting again, full of possibilities. I now have hope for myself, and I have hope for my future.