Monday 2 February 2015

You are ill

     You are ill. You are becoming more and more ill. The illness makes you unhappy. The infection has taken control of your body, and you are living in constant pain. The pain makes you behave in ways that are not rational. But you can’t stop yourself. Anything to distract yourself from the pain.

     You are ill. You are scared, because you are ill. You are scared because you know you are not going to recover. Because you are scared, you cannot fight the illness. Because you are scared, you are not strong. The illness gets worse. The pain increases.

     The people you live with do not know you are ill. You are too scared of the illness to tell them. You are in too much pain to communicate. Your mind is a silent scream. Screaming in pain. Screaming in fear. But only you can hear the screams. The people you live with do not know you are screaming.

     You are ill. You know your illness is destroying you. You are scared, because you are ill. You are scared, because you are in pain. You are scared, because you are not strong. You are scared, because you are alone. You are scared, because you are screaming.

     You are ill. Your illness is hidden. Your illness is increasing. It feels as though the pain will never end. But still you keep it hidden from the people you live with. You love them too much to let them see what is happening to you. You love them too much to let them see how ugly your illness is. You love them too much. You need to protect them.

     You are ill.  But it is only you who are ill. The people you love are safe. You are protecting them. They are safe. Your pain is yours alone.

     You are ill. You are told you are infectious. The illness is contagious. The pain is contaminating the people you love. You haven’t protected them. You are damaging them. They will have to live with your pain. You won’t get better. They will get worse.


     You are ill. You are in pain. You will make the people you live with ill. The pain gets worse. You know there is a cure. You know how to make the pain stop. 


(EDIT: This isn't a reflection of how I'm feeling at the moment at all. It's something that's been going round and round in my head for the last two weeks as a result of a conversation I had with someone who really doesn't understand depression, anxiety, or suicidal thoughts. It stung like an absolute fucker to write, but if it prevents  a single person with mental health issues from being told 'Your depression is harming your children', then GOOD. Never, ever say that to someone. Because it is quite possibly the most dangerous thing you can hear).

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Don't think about making the pain stop. It's part of who you are. It's shit at times but it means you're alive and kicking. And ignore those who claim you are infecting those around you... they don't get it and they never will.

Anonymous said...

You are ill, but you will get better.
You are ill, but you are strong.
You are ill, and the love of your children will help heal you.
Seek whatever help you need - your posts inspire me x

Gardening bloke said...

I'm bald. I have depression. Neither will be cured. I live and to a certain extent embrace both. My kids know about both and not a single shit is given by any of us. A trite comparison maybe, but a hell of a lot more relevant than the "diagnosis" you had to listen to