The Family that Guilt Built.

My Dad works ridiculously hard. Even though he’s in an office job, he wakes up at 5 am every day, is away from home at least 4 days a week (we currently live in scotland, and he is based 4 hours away in Leeds), supports his wife and two daughters; one of whom has major issues with depression and the like (myself), and my sister. He’s done this without complaint for at least a year, and has put me and sis through private education, done without so we could have over the years and supported our musical endeavours over the years without question. 

The past weekend has been pretty ridiculous. My sister’s car was involved in a serious accident (thankfully she’s ok), and my boyfriend had to come and get me from a gig I was doing in Edinburgh after he’d been at work for 8 hours, as my mum and dad were in Yorkshire looking for a house. Due to some fiscal problems my sisters had which I’m not going to go into, lets just say an issue with the insurance has appeared, and as a result my dad’s ending up paying for the repairs. 

All of a sudden, Dad is feeling incredibly selfish that him and mum are moving a few hours away because of our family’s history of things going tits up, especially with sis doing daft things with money and my history of depressive episodes. Factor in my lack of driving skills, a job, and our nearest family being 30 miles away (I’m Glasgow based, family is near edinburgh based), poor man is freaking out in case something happens and thinks he’s being selfish. 

Of course I’ll be sad that my family is far away from me, but I’d rather my dad didn’t work himself to death driving for more hours in a week than he does sleep because of “what if…..”. The guilt if he did feel the need to stay for my benefit would compound my guilt and inferiority complex so badly, I doubt I’d be able to cope. 

Very few times have I seen my Dad cry; and every time it breaks my heart. 

14

May

#guilt #family #depression #i love my dad

Today I’m going to talk about a subject which is very close to my heart through my own experiences and those of a few very dear friends; depression. 

I’ve been unfortunate in my life to have suffered from depression for around 8 years, with extended periods of both contentment and despair. I have been on medication previously, but felt it made things worse, even after taking it for several months. One of the best relationships I have ever been in was with a childhood friend who has psychotic depression/schizophrenia. Some of my closest friends have been in a similar or worse position than I am with their thoughts, and recently, after an extended period of normality, for lack of a better word, I’m back in a rut. 

It’s very strange. I tend to find that most people can place their feelings on a specific cause, be it their appearance or bullying etc etc, but I honestly don’t know where my feelings stem from in the first place. It just seems to manifest it’s self in self loathing and what I can only describe as extreme catholic guilt (that is, at existing). I can only describe what I feel as an insistence by myself that I am undeserving of taking up the time and resources in the the world that I do, and I serve no purpose. Also to some extent, the feeling that if I were not to exist, my friends and family (especially my older sister) would be better off in terms of income as well as socially, and I am only an inconvenience.  

My last major incident was in 1st year of university, 2 years ago now. I suffered what I can only describe as a complete loss of identity and willingness to engage with the world around me. This lack of identity, coupled with a an inferiority complex and a sexual assault drove me into a very dark place. I’d been that bad before, but I’d never had people actually care to be frank. During high school I was the same, and have been a regular self harmer for approximately 6 years. I do have bouts of time where I don’t feel the need. More recently, in a somewhat relapsed state, I’ve fallen back into old habits. There have been more serious attempts in the past to put it subtly, but all either too poorly thought out/on a whim of a bad day or just not successful. 

In all honesty, I don’t know where I’m going with this. I’m just tired of being tired, guilty and not feeling good enough. I will however say this; there are people that can help. Having gone through the nhs for various problems, I must say I don’t find the methods they employ in terms of referal to your local mental health service that helpful (8 weeks from me approaching doctor to getting a consultation, with a few serious hiccups between those two, then a further month for an actual appointment). Saying that though, the samaritans are always good, as are the university counseling and nightline. I just don’t think they work for me any more. 

06

October

#depression #pointless ramble