Me, myself and it. My story of depression

When I last wrote, I was facing a rapidly approaching Christmas and I wasn’t sure how I was going to find it. As is the case with my head, the apocalyptic festive season never appeared. In fact, and whisper it quietly, I actually quite enjoyed Christmas this year. Taking all 3 boys down to Norwich on my own had its challenges, but even then it was nice to spend daddy and boys time together. As is the case, I would’ve spent longer in Norwich if I could, you start to think old friends are beginning to forget about you and you become an acquaintance, however, I don’t tend to like being that social just yet, it was a problem that came up during therapy, and one that I’ve struggled to deal with. Instead, opting for staying at home, which in my mind means I don’t waste a precious day off travelling about. Crazy isn’t it? Preceding Christmas, and my trip to Norwich, I did receive news that, I’ll admit, was a confidence crushingly blow. I’d been standing for union rep at my depot, I thought i...

So on the 17th it will be a year since my Mrs frogmarched me to the doctors, and I was signed off work with a depressive disorder. So what’s changed in the past year? Everything and nothing is the confusing answer. I say that because I’ve made big progress in managing my mental health. Tackling things head on and talking more. That’s made the biggest impact on my life, but also of those closest to me, who’ve had to suffer from the mood swings and dark thoughts, and that’s only when I watch Norwich City. I guess that’s the moral from my story. Talking really does help. No one can make you do it, but if you’re in that rut, pushing yourself and fighting the nagging thoughts (mine, not my wife’s) will get you feeling so much better about yourself. That’s the positive stuff, but it’s not all a bed of roses. I’ve had some serious struggles, even making some pretty dark plans about my future. That’s the thing with depression, take your eye of the ball and, as I did, self medicate, and it wi...