When it began

I’ve called this blog ‘the story of my breakdown’, but I realise after making a few posts that I haven’t yet begun that narrative. So I need to go back to the start, about a year ago, of the steady snowballing of my depression.

I can distinctly remember being utterly miserable, as it was my dad’s birthday and everyone around me was celebrating. I realised at that point that I wasn’t just down because of the stresses around me, I was getting ill. My dark moods would appear from nowhere and just stick. I couldn’t shake them. I wanted to sleep all day and I stopped doing any sport. Going into the office was a massive struggle.

When I was admitted to hospital, various people asked me what I thought had sparked this episode. I came up with a few key things.

My sister separated from her husband. I loved him very much, and her heartbreak broke my heart too. The subsequent loss of my little unborn niece or nephew broke my heart even more.

I embarked on my psychotherapeutic journey. I knew for some time that this needed to happen. While it was important (and still is), it triggered a lot of difficult memories, flashbacks and nightmares relating to the  abuse I experienced as a child.

We sold our house. It seemed like the right thing to do when we put it on the market, but as I got less stable, I felt like the rug was being pulled from under me. I lost my sanctuary, my place of familiarity and protection.

As they happened, each of these didn’t seem massive, but when they came together the load wasn’t bearable. While writing this, a beautiful song came to mind that makes me think of my sister, how much I adore her and the incredible bond we have. I love everything by Imogen Heap, her lyrics are poetry and her piano playing is stunning.

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