I’ve written before about depression and my sporadic struggle with it.

It took the devastating event of Robin Williams’ tragic suicide last week (and the vast amount of heightened awareness about depression that exploded into the online world following his death) to make me sit down and properly check-in with myself – how am I doing?  Really?

My answer to the world: I’m doing just fine.

My rather more honest answer to myself:  Actually… I’m not feeling so great.

I’ve felt ‘off’ for a little while now, knowing that something wasn’t quite right but not being able to pinpoint what it was.  I’ve been finding things tough where normally I’d find them a breeze.  Being snappy – no, honesty is important here… – being irrationally angry with the girls and my husband.  Not looking forward to things as much as I usually would.  Thinking negatively about myself – making comparisons and coming up short of where I ‘believe’ I should be.  Feeling trapped – in my house, by my decisions, in my head – trying to contain all of my thoughts in a straightjacket in my mind, struggling against myself to prevent their ugliness from spilling out into the world.

Even my work with clients was feeling like work, and that never happens!  I love my job and it almost never feels like work because helping someone let go of limiting beliefs that have held them back for their whole life is very often a magical thing to see.  And yet, I’ve not really been feeling the love for it like I usually do.  Add to this feelings of utter exhaustion (both physical and mental) and you’ve got a recipe for self-destruction.

Just to point out – I know perfectly well that all of this is in my head and that the things I’m thinking about are imaginary.  None of it needs to be real.

But that is where the problem lies.  Because it feels real.  At least, it does right now.  I’m working on changing it, and I’ll come to how I’m doing that further on in this post.

Anyway, at the beginning of last week I got ill – nothing major, just a cough (albeit a hacking, tickly cough that makes my chest and throat and stomach hurt and leaves me retching and worn out and feeling like my head is going to explode), but I know perfectly well that it’s one of the first signs that something needs to change.  I usually only get something like this when there’s something else going on underneath at an unconscious level.

So, what is it all about?

I’ve been spending some time looking back over the many photos I’ve taken over the four weeks we’ve had so far of the summer holidays.  Seeing the hashtags (#happyfamilysummer #summerbucketlistchallnge) made me realise that I’ve not actually been having very much fun or felt very happy.  For quite a lot of the time I haven’t been filled with joy, I’ve been filled with dread.  Dread at having to spend more time pretending to enjoy myself for the sake of everyone else – the girls, my husband, my friends, you guys who read my blog posts.  Don’t get me wrong – we have had many good times together as a family, and there have been moments where I have most definitely felt present and relaxed and have enjoyed the things we’ve been doing and the places we’ve been to.  Quite a lot of the time though it has felt like a chore.  Like something I’ve had to do but not really wanted to.  And I feel guilty because of that.

Sigh.  The guilt.  Guilt about not getting enough work done.  About not spending enough time with my girls.  About not spending enough time with my husband.  About not spending enough time on me.  About not reading enough books, or doing all the things for clients that I’ve promised to do, or answering emails within a reasonable amount of time.  Even guilt about spending too much time on social media because, well, I just haven’t wanted to face the real world.

The thing is, there’s nothing intrinsically wrong in my world right now.  I got married just two months ago to the man I love for goodness sake – I should be ecstatically happy.  And I am!  I really am.  Tomorrow we celebrate having spent the last ten years together.  I love my girls – they’re awesome (even in their less than awesome moments).  I have a great job that I enjoy, I have more of the two most precious commodities in the modern world (time and freedom) than many people I know, and I have a supportive network of friends and family who love me.  I’m so incredibly lucky to have all of that and overwhelmingly grateful for every single bit of it.

So why do I feel so… low?

In truth, I’m not sure.  I haven’t figured it out yet.  Maybe it’s just one of those phases that I cycle through from time-to-time without warning – the chemicals in my brain dipping below the level that keeps me going?  Maybe it’s post-wedding blues?  Maybe I’m just a bit run-down?  Or maybe it’s something more than that?  Even therapists aren’t fully immune.

Whatever it is, I’ve realised that I need some time off.  Time off from work, time off from organising stuff for the girls to do, time off from the house.  Maybe even (whisper it) time off from social media and the blog…

As a result of that realisation, I’m looking forward even more to our mini-holiday in Cornwall next week.  There is something about being by the sea that heals.

On our return I will be thrown headlong into the back-to-school chaos that always accompanies the beginning of September, made all the more poignant this year because my littlest girl is starting Reception.  Add to that the fact that September is already pretty much fully booked with clients means that I really need to make sure I come home feeling better – rested, relaxed and motivated.

And I will – I’m sure of it.

I’m going to use next week to slow down.  To reinstate all the things that I know keep me feeling good.  Things like making sure I get enough sleep (no more 5.30am alarms for a week – yay!) and fresh air & exercise (plenty of breezy beach and cliff-top walks).  Things like making sure I don’t hold everything in my head and instead talk it out.  Things like remembering that I can choose how to respond to a situation instead of just reacting to it.  Things like enjoying just being, instead of always thinking backwards or ahead.

Things like remembering that I am enough.

That’s the most important one.

I am enough.

This isn’t meant to be yet another blog jumping on the depression bandwagon.  It’s not a cry for attention or help or sympathy.

It’s just me being real, because that’s what I’ve been needing to do for a while.

Thanks for listening.

 

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