The fact that I've been in hospital now for almost 4 weeks, and the fact that I'm still alive with no attempts on my life taken should be seen as a positive step, but when you awaken each morning in a hospital bed, and you struggle to see the light at the end of the tunnel, one must question whether you can really claim progress has been made?
Since late last year, I've noticed my mood slip beyond "a little depressed" and more into the category of "completely unable to cope and to continue to function as a normal human being". I have reached out for help. This is my third (and longest) hospital admission in recent times. I've tried medication, I have tried new age therapies, like Transcranial Mangnetic Stimulation (TMS), and more recently, I've progressed onto Electro Convulsive Therapy (ECT). Thankfully I've noticed a slight shift in mood through receiving ECT and I can only hope that another 6 sessions will help me recover and find the me that I've created and lost underneath the beast that is depression somewhere.
It is hard pretending like I've got my shit together, when everything feels completely overwhelming. Or in those fleeting moments when I feel I can actually beat this, which are quickly followed by an all consuming fear of not being strong enough to fight my way out this time, it's hard to stay positive and remind myself that I've likely been through worse than this before, and I am therefore equipped to deal with it, no matter how far over my head I feel.
The hospital itself is so much different to everywhere I've stayed before. It is calm, the staff are kind, it's the perfect environment to relax and recuperate strength. It's more than a place to keep me safe. It's a place to get me on the road to wellness and get me back to enjoying the life that I've created for myself. I just hope that I'm strong enough to ride it out, that the ECT continues to bring about successful results, and that at the end of this ride, I'll be stronger coming out the other side, ready to face the world in front of me.