The cavern of depression
Welcome to my world
warning: some mild triggers possible
Trudging legs through mud like lead
Wading through old bones of the dead
Bleeding, cut, scratched, battered hard
Countless battles and journeys left her scarred
Traces of tears engrained on her bloody face
from abuse, treachery, lies , she picks up pace
She has fought fights seen doom
seen blackness, evil, and other gloom
On the surface , like the iceberg tips
Ripples of water, underneath seductive lips
Hidden Behind the mask of glitz and glamour
Behind the passionate and stein amour
The solitary warrior stumbles across on stony ground
Cut and bleeding, no one else around
Her blonde hair is tangled, her make up smudged
Scarred and wounded onward she trudged.
Limping and in pain, heart ripped to shreds
Her heart wanted no more than to be dead
To give up, to die
Let the pain end,
The constant suffering to lift and ascend
But on she tramps, eyes filled with steel
Used, abused, searching for an emotional meal.
And the scars are deep
She cannot sleep
Nor feel content
Or at ease
She cannot trust, love or believe.
These things have been stolen from her, like the love of life
Her past has had a very high price.
Succubus to men she seduces to gain affection
Fill up the black hole in her empty pit of emotions
Mother, daughter, lover she is all three
But one things she wants she has to fight hard to see
Pure love back, despite all her scars, despite her wrong doings, a love to the stars
From total apathy to emotional tornado
Crushed and crumpled, used, chucked and tramplelled
She trusts no one. Especially not her own head
Reality, paranoia, hallucinations which is which??
The rescuer, the supporter the one that knows what to do.
The one that workmates, friends and family turn to
Lost little girl
Emotional turmoil hits like pure grief in sobs
Peace, anxiety is what BPD robs
Panic, depression, lonely, anxiety, mood swings, hallucinations, delusions, addictions,
Appetite gone, sick and ache, wanting to self harm.
No sleep, too much sleep, mania and shame.
Wanting to die. Wanting to create a way to look like accidental suicide
Worry, guilt, self hate
Whore whore whore slut
Shit mum, waste of space, idiot, lazy
bitch and bad to the core
And definatly a fucking whore.
Over 25 years I have been that battle scarred warrior.
Hardened from naive little girl looking for her prince to a fighter
It’s overwhelming to keep trudging on.
Would love to lie down and let life be gone
But I persevere a slither of hope is my light.
Eternal optimist, I continue my fight
Inside I am scared, too much emotions I feel
In reality I am strong built from steel
But never underestimate the injured warrior as weak.
Or silly, or blonde or meek.
Im forged with fire and metal made in hell
My spirit is scarred but cannot be quelled
My inner torment u will never see,
the ones I battle in my head every second,
I want to be free.
So I’m finally coming out the other side. 4 months this time of milder depression than last year but still 80% time in bed.
This is how I view my catatonic, severe depression I had last year when I was in bed 6 months unable to move.
“I awake and feel bleak. I feel alone. I feel cold. I feel nothing.
I’m in a huge cavern, sharp jagged rocks litter the floor and the walls are smooth.
It’s always night, and the moonlight streams in through the only exit. A small hole , the size of a manhole cover, is in the ceiling about 20 metres above me.
I can’t climb the sheer walls, I try and fall on the sharp rocks.
I sit in a corner, bloody and bruised, arms wrapped round my legs, rocking.
My only companions are the bats that flutter about sometimes and a few insects that venture into the dark pit.
I scream and scream for help
No one comes
I cry, I sob, I wail.
No one comes.
I’m alone and I stop trying to get out and sit there rocking. Unable to move”
I’ve had this image in my head since I was 15. Each time the depression engulfed me.
I have figured out over the years this is obviously symbolic and the bats and insects represent people in my life whilst I am depressed.
I can’t relate to them or talk to them, as people may as well be a different species whilst I am alone in my pit.
Alone in a crowd kinda thing. They can’t help me.
I can’t help me.
A super high dose anti depressents helped me ! Slowly soooooo slowly
Month after month I slowly improved a little.
A year on and I still improve every month.
Some months I seem to go back but I got to carry on.
The weather is helping hugely, plus my puppy as I get out twice a day to walk her.
I still isolate myself a lot but have been starting to see my family again. Not for too long lol but it’s a start.
Having catatonic depression is a disability.
You cannot physically move. It’s like the connection between brain and limbs is faulty.
You can’t bath, shower, clean teeth, get post let alone pay bills, cool etc
Just a prisoner in your bed. Thinking about getting that glass of water on your bedside table for 2 hours before you can muster the strength to do it.
Left alone with your morbid thoughts and wishing to die, but being too apathetic an lethargic to do anything about it.
Clinical depression cannot be helped by excercise etc. you cannot physically move to even go to kitchen let alone out.
Once you start to recover things like that help, but not whilst down in the depths of the cavern.
It’s like will excercise, milky drinks, yoga or hot baths help me get out of that cavern floor? No course they won’t.
We need a rope and than gradually be lifted up.
My rope was medication x
so having been in a depressive state since New Years the fog has started to lift.
Sleeping up to 16 hours a day, no motivation and energy I am slowly rejoining the land of the living.
Think the nice sunny weather is helping.
But unfortunately I realised how much weight I need to lose……. A TON!!!
The anti psychotics and depression has taken its toll this last year and I’m the heaviest I have ever been.
Diet starts now.
Wish me luck x