New Kid on the Block

All though being in my mid forties.... I am hardly a kid. If fact, I can't stand children. Given me a dog any day.

Never in my lifetime have I used one of the many call services or even entered an online forum like this.

I lived the life of a high paid professional and in silence, I tried to manage the things going on in my head. I was officially diagnosed as a person suffering from depression at 18.

It was the local GP who put me onto anti-depressants and offered the help he could back in those days.

I was adopted. Something never hidden from me. It was never a secret and it was often discussed. In my early teens, when my adopted partents relationship ended and my mum left. I made a mental decision, when I was old enough. I would try to find out about my biological family. I went through the process in Victoria and did eventually find and meet my biological monther and my half siblings.

It was an emotional roller coaster. I went looking for a mum, to replace the one I lost. It is not what I found. I found a woman who was 13 years older than I. Yet, she was still a child. She was immature, poorly educated and saw me, and my adopted family as a ticket to a better life. Hence, it did not work out. I ended our contact and then it hit me like a freight train. I suspect I was always suffering from depression, but this time. It floored me. I went to my GP and so the journey begins.

I have had a crappy human experience, right up to this day. But I try to power on. Immerse myself into work or tasks and keep busy. Down time is my worst time. I could type a novel here on what I have been through. One of the people I used to work with and recently re-connected with says I should.

I think "who would want to read such a depressing and horrific tale?"

The thing is. I have survived. I used to think I would never see 30. Then I made it.

Then it was 40, and I ticked that one off as well. Now it feels like just getting to 2019 will be a miracle.

Am I alone? I have sought help through psychologists and have to say the one I have seen over the past two years has been the most I have related with. She is 'normal'. Talks to me like an adult, swears. Does not sit there are ask me 'how does that make you feel?' As soon as someone says that. I want to slap them. What response are they expecting. I feel f##king fantastic. I am just hear killing time and spending cash. We have discussed things that I have never talked to a sole about. I worry that I put that much into our time together that it is unhealthy and I see her as a friend at times.

One thing I find so hard to communicate and have others understand in getting treatment, whether that is mental health or general health is that people do not under stand the simple sentence.

'I have no one'. Is that such a freakish thing? For me, it is reality. I have no family, I have no friends. I have gone to work and made friends in the workplace, but never continued them outside. If I am not at work. I am at home. Just me. Actually, just me and my two dogs. We are family.

So when I need to go to hospital and they say 'you must have someone to collect you on discharge and be with you for 24 hours' They don't get it when I say I HAVE NO ONE. I rely on me. Mr Uber can drive me home, then it's me and the woofas and we make do.

"That is against procedure". Well your procedure's are not flexible, unless you want to follow me home! I cannot wave a wand and have someone magically appear. There are people in our community that do it alone. Totally alone. Me. I am one of them. It drives me crazy that I have to explain that. Its like your telling someone you have a third eye in the back of your head.

Why am I here tonight, on New Years Day 2018. I am tired. I have many things to do, but I don't have the desire, physical ability or motivation. There big life changing things. Moving home, getting back into the workforce, getting physically and mentally fit so I can get into the workforce. I just find myself in a space where I feel it's not worth the effort. I am sick of trying. Sick of living with the demons of the past, unable to control the future. The whole, go with the flow concept does not work for me. I am regimented, structured, planned to the final degree. But I cannot do those things and it does more than frustrate me. It leaves me in despair. 2017 was a horrendous year. With the help of some people, I got the courage to leave a job that treated me poorly. No future job to go to. Totally out of my comfort zone. But, I got there. I found a job that I thought I would love. It allowed me to make a tree change from the rat race of Melbourne to the country. Things where finally looking good.

Two days before I was due to start the new job. On the way to collect a new car I bought to commute the distance I needed until I found my new home. I was a passenger in a car that was in a serious accident. I had to give away that job prospect, unable to fill the role physically and mentally. The tree change went on hold and I was faced with fixing me. Physical me. Damaged. Not able to be the self sufficient person I was and could count on. Needing others to help me with tasks. Just stopped doing some tasks all together. I am told the road to recovery is a long one. I need to be patient. I should expect a year +. None of that is what I wanted to hear. But, I soldier on and attend the appointments and rehab I need to attend. That takes care of the body - but it is slow. Much slower than I want it to be and much more painful than I expected it to be. I have retreated into my own little shell. Staying at home where I feel safe, apart from attending appointments. I am still having my tree change and moving. Again, without certain plans. Only certain thing is where I will live. No job. No idea what job I will be ready for. But economics mean I can't stay where I am for a year + without winning lotto.

I try with a body that won't do the things I want it to do, or run for as long as it used to. Pack my stuff. Prepare to move. All the while struggling with the physical and mental outcomes of the accident.

I sit, actually. That is a lie. I lay down. I can't sit. After 30 odd minutes I am in such pain that I have to lay down. I lay down, sometimes for many hours. I have done an 18 hour stint. I don't sleep. I lay and think of how my plans where ruined by the accident, and I will be honest. I think, I wish the accident had taken me. Not left me in this state. This state of limbo. Not knowing how you will feel one day to the next. Not knowing if you will be able to get out of bed tomorrow or not. On some days, when I know I have an appointment to go to and I worry I might not be able to get out of bed. I just cut the middle man out and don't go to bed. I feel trapped and helpless. The two things I hate with a passion.

I don't know where to turn to. I try to battle on. Like today. Packing a cabinet that was full of my mum's things. Memories. Things I want to keep. It is not even 12 months since she died and I am going through them all. Wrapping them up and think, how can I be doing this for the 3rd time in 12 months. What on earth did I ever do to have to endure this? And for me it is an endurance. There are items that I bought as an 8 year old from the Avon catalogue for mothers day or birthdays. Each one is a stab in the heart at how I could have lost her at 72. Way before her time. How she could have kept her illness a secret for two years, so not to interfere with my work. I doubt anyone out there has the answers. I am a pretty smart cookie. And I am buggered if I have any. I have given up looking for answers. Now, I just look for reasons to keep going. To get up, eat, shower, function, and I am finding that a mountain to climb every day at the moment. So I am here. tapping away. I have had to move my laptop to the kitchen bench so I can stand and tap. Sitting is the enemy and I have not mastered using it lying in bed yet. But hey, looks like I might have the time.

I am thankful for my two furry buddies. They have kept me going. They are my responsibility and I know I need to be there for them. That helps me keep going. But, and it's a very big BUT....even now, I feel like I can part with them and set them free. Someone will take and love them as I do.

My biggest question is who will love me? Do we need to be loved? Am I being needy or greedy?