@Cuddlebear
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You can, even without money, even without other people to support you! Just you and the truth of your life, every day again. No one can get you out but the truth of you buried underneath the depressive feelings and thoughts lying to you. That is why you feel so sad and bad. This is not hoe life is supposed to go. Like i was was, and now am again but much easier to survive than the mental torment down there. The truth is you are a victim robbed of your good life and overcome by the bad life pushed onto you.
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The place i was, and you still have to be, has no 'good feelings' none at all, this is why even with medications or the right supports it is a harrowing undertaking. My wife and children could not get through to me, or i to them. i literately begged my wife on my knees in front of her to let me go, that is how overcome i was after a few years that deep and cut off. Clinical depression is the pits when it comes to that.
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My Way out was mindfully applying the age old rule what i sow i shall harvest. So i began to sow good things. Not that i had any good things left but recall of better times. The times i missed which had been pleasurable but were now gone. The flower i saw but did not lift my heart like it used to do. So each time my heart wailed loss. i prayed the return for that. And understood that living the moment of that good, even in loss, would be the seed t sow in my barrenness.
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So this is how i moved away. i choose for the good i did not have, while i denied the negativity i lived the lies of my depression. No more agreeing any with my negative feelings but show compassion to myself where this was missing.
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And so second lived by second lived. i resisted hopelessness to rob me of yet more life hopeless and i began to hope for better - fighting for that hope, loving myself when i could not, and placing my faith in good to over bad when love is practised even when not felt emotionally. For loving is an action much more than a feeling real life.
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Once you begin to operate out oflove, faith and hope will come automatically back online again those moments love is lived. No matter how miserable you feel. It took close to 4 years years to grow out of my pit and other such times to stay out of the darkness no matter how deep my depressive times took me down there.
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For me the best part was that after a few months i already began to see changes. Also medically. For only after i began to have hope again did E.C.T even comer up as an option to consider.
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You can get 35 sessions of T.M.S treatments for free through Medicare, just fill in the application form at your GP. Once approved as medication hardy depression, and not bi-polar not on mood stabilisers, this should be automatic . This could be the break you need. It sure made a change in my life, although it was hard going.
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Really hoping a break shows up for you soon.
I'll share you a poem about my climb out of my hell-hole.
@Meowmy @TAB @StuF @Taali @Bunniekins @SmilingGecko @MissGremlin @AuntGlow @Dimity @Chasingsunsets @heartathome @Realness @Appleblossom @Jacques @ENKELI
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A Pit left behind
As I climb over the rim, I clearly see;
a trembling passes through what once was me:
below, without bottom, the pit still lies
an open wound beneath familiar skies.
A depth that calls without a sound,
a pull that circles, drawing down;
not distant, not elsewhere to flee
but something once alive in me.
Dark thoughts pound, not one, but many
threaded tight, accusing, heavy;
guilt and shame in woven breath,
whispering doubt, foretelling death.
Pressing, pressing, ever near,
feeding on remembered fear;
not from outside do they creep
but from the places buried deep.
And still they reach they cling, they claim
through heat, through spark, through searing flame;
my footing falters, stones give way,
old fires licking at my clay.
Why did I carry what burns so long?
Why did I call that darkness strong?
A weight once worn as part of me,
now seen for what it came to be.
Love is not distant, even not near
a light that neither shouts nor fears;
no force, no push, no binding claim,
yet steady still, and still the same.
Not grasped, not owned, not held in hand
yet known in ways I understand;
a quiet knowing, clear and bright,
that draws me upward into the light.
Stone against skin, and skin against stone,
the climb is mine yet not alone;
for every place that would not yield
now slowly breaks, is gently healed.
What once was fixed begins to bend,
what once held tight now finds an end;
those hardened places, sharp and cold,
no longer have the grip they hold.
Upward still through ache, through strain,
through loss of what I thought was gain;
for what falls off was never true,
and what remains is carried through.
Not by brute force, nor by my might
but by a steady, living in love's light;
a truth that does not rise and fall,
but waits, and holds, and gathers all.
And so I out of my hell hole did escape,
only to leave behind my former shape;
for what once seemed the only way
now fades away as I move into day.
The pit remains but no longer for me;
its voice of torment has lost authority.
What fed on fear can no longer stay
where truth and life now find their way.
And in that turning, so slow, yet sure,
what once was fractured stands more pure;
not made anew by my will or clever plan
but by becoming what love truly says I am.
