I consider myself to be fully recovered from depression. It took years of support, therapy and my own hard work to arrive at this special place. Here I am—hopeful, healthy, and happy.
What is amiss though?
My past still surfaces. I remember how I behaved, not always properly. I didn’t treat people well, my depression twisting my mind. I made some terrible decisions. Most of the time I understand and accept all of those events were caused by depression…but the past picks at me.
I remember the mental pain. I often compare mental and physical pain because I have a reference point.
When I was 11 year’s old, I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis and spent two weeks at the childrens’ Hospital. My teenage years were spent going to weekly physiotherapy, doing sets of specific exercises and wearing plaster splints to bed each night encasing me from my fingers to my elbows. All in the hope of containing my RA. Yes, it impacted my hands and legs, but I am fortunate it hasn’t progressed too much all these years, even though I still have pain. Standing for long periods is painful and writing is difficult as my hands cramp. Even typing isn’t easy, so I type with one finger.
Because I know both mental and physical pain so intimately, I can readily conclude that mental pain is more intense and extreme than physical pain. No comparison. To overcome this pain takes time.
Back to the memories. Even now when a dark, sharp memory appears, I hurt.
It’s as if the thought of the old pain creates a new feeling. And although it’s painful, it’s not depression. I feel unsettled.
I am not talking about self-confidence, self-esteem, or self-worth. I have written about them previously for GMP. Those are on a good path now, although the self-worth still needs some improvement.
It`s not how other people perceive me. It’s rather how I see myself, but with a narrow vision of the past and how it still permeates my mind. Others have accepted me and understand what depression caused. I recognize that as well, but at times I find myself thinking.
Each day, something reminds me of the pain. I need to escape.
Perhaps people with no history of mental illness experience similar pain.
In time, we will see how I feel about myself. I’ve come a long way from the years of depression, so I fully expect to live a full life without this particular pain.
Check in later for an update!
“I have kissed honey lips
Felt the healing in her finger tips
It burned like fire
A burning desire.
I have spoke with the tongue of angels
I have held the hand of a devil
It was warm in the night
I was cold as a stone.
But I still haven’t found
What I’m looking for.
But I still haven’t found
What I’m looking for.”
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