does this depression make me look fat?

one thing that i'd never picked up on before i'd experienced depression first hand is the physical effect it has on the person who is suffering from it. the knock on effects from the negative, introverted and imbalanced mind have a HUGE impact on the physicality of the sufferer. 

what i've found with my depression is that there is a HUGE lack of motivation to do anything, especially physical things. ive mentioned before on this blog that i like to skateboard. there have been periods during the past few years where the lack of motivation has caused me not to skate for long periods. 4 months is a long time without doing something you love to do is a LONG time. 

i used to be really into sport. during school i pretty much had a go at anything; football, rugby, tennis, squash, hockey, basketball, athletics etc. while that declined a fair bit during college i was still relatively active. when my depression decided to twat me in the face with the great stick of "FUCK YOU!" i stopped doing so many physical things. 

as a result of that i gained weight. 

a lot of weight.

going from around 11-12 stone to over 15 stone is not fun

now im 6ft 4, and i usually wear relatively baggy clothes, so i dont actually look fat until i take my top off, at which point i look like a pillow case filled with cake. (hence why i NEVER take my shirt off, even if its ridiculously hot)

im actually more self conscious about people noticing my weight than people noticing the scars on my arm. i can feel that im REALLY close to being able to have my arms out in public (i want to show off my walking dead tattoo if im honest) 

the other thing is that due to putting on weight and not being active enough i am ridiculously out of shape! 

ive been trying to have a kickabout with a mate more often and even that knackers me out. im shattered afterwards! same with the skateboarding. loss of stamina is a bitch, especially when you're doing something you used to be able to do for 6 or 7 hours straight

i do want to get back in shape and lose some of this weight, but again, motivation is pretty low at the moment. its a vicious circle: "urgh, i hate how i look, i better exercise" "im having a rough day. i really cant be fucked to exercise right now" "urgh, ive done nothing. ive put on so much weight!" etc.

on top of the weight etc is the simple matter of personal hygiene. sometimes things are just too much and even doing simple things like having a shower, brushing your teeth and so on just take so much effort. effort which you dont have! give it a few days with that mental state and you end up looking like something that has been fired through a large pile of discarded big macs: greasy, smelly and gross. 

not nice. 

fortunately, it takes a lot less effort to have a shower and a shave than it does to get in shape, so at least i can say im clean and smell nice, even if i am overweight! 

i felt like this topic should have a dedicated post as i feel that not a lot of people realise how much of a physical effect depression can have on someone. 

we all know someone who is very self conscious about how they look; be it a kid trying to fit in, a girl with self esteem issues or a guy who gets upset when people comment about their weight. now imagine that with the added effect of mental health issues. its not fun for that person, and they could use a boost; even if its just something as simple as saying "that shirt looks good on you."

Relationships: why is it easier to talk to some people than others?

i really could sum this one up with 3 words:

relationships. fucking hell. 


i'll try and write a bit more than just that though.

life is nothing without relationships of some kind or another. relationships with family and friends. romantic relationships. patient/doctor relationships. those complicated little buggers are EVERYWHERE!

Depression has definitely had an impact on the state of existing relationships and the chances of me building new ones as well. 

in general, my ability to communicate with new people took a downward turn when my depression took hold. it was (and is) SO difficult to strike up conversation with someone i dont know. even more so if there is no common ground to talk about.

common ground is the catalyst to any relationship in my opinion. something you and the other person can both talk about. for example, during my depression its been a LOT easier for me to talk to someone new who was on a board at a skatepark. that person and i both skate. that common ground is the basis for striking up a conversation with that person, and possibly turning that person from someone with common ground into a friend. that friendship, and the relationship i have with that person may stop at the fact we share common ground with skateboard, or it may evolve and become a better friendship over time. 

the relationships i have with my close friends; the ones who i talk to about my problems are totally different to the ones i mentioned above. my outlook on people changed a lot during the first year of my depression. it went from "yeah, everyone's alright unless they prove me otherwise" to "everyone is a wanker UNTIL they prove me otherwise!" fortunately those people closest to me (you know who you are) i have known since before my problems began, and while (as in any relationship) there will be rough times they have never let me down, and (i hope) i have never let them down. they look after me. i try and look after them. thats how it works. they have proven over and over that they are NOT wankers. they are the best people i know and i love them to bits.
i find those close friends easier to talk to than my family. sounds weird, but its true. a lot of the time i talk to my friends via the internet. i have time to think about what im going to say when im typing it. i can read things before ive said it and i can delete things before ive said them. the internet is a bit of a safety barrier, which i think is why i find it easier to talk to my friends. 

talking to family is much more difficult. as i live with my parents i see them all the time. personally i find it a LOT harder to talk in person to someone about my problems than talk via facebook or whatever. it scares me that there is no control or safety net to restrict what i say or do. i may try and say one thing, but it sounds like im saying another. its very difficult. 

my relationship with my family is good. but talking to them is something ive never been able to do very well. it takes a LOT of effort and courage for me to say something. even something as insignificant as "i need to go to the dentists" scares me when talking to them. that feeling of no safety net definitely throws me off a bit. that feeling that they may judge me for what i say or do isnt nice either. i know they probably wont do that, but its still a difficult thing to face- the overthinking doesnt help either.

of course, there the 'other' kind of relationship. the kind that isnt "just friends". the romantic relationship.

i'll be honest. even before my mental health deteriorated my abilities with these kind of relationships was about as useful as stephen hawking's football boots. im shit at talking to women. theres never been anything serious or long lasting. during my depression there's been no 'special relationship' with me and a ladygirlwoman. thats not to say that there isnt someone i care about a great deal. i may even have used the L word when talking about her to other close friends.

unfortunatly she doesnt feel the same way. a total kick to the feels. however, she is still a close friend and that is ace. we take care of each other when either of us aren't doing good. we've been through rough times and have both dealt with depression. its a very close relationship. (and yeah, there are still emotions and feelings there...)

there is something that makes a relationship between 2 people a lot more important if you've been through similar bad times. i believe that depression and self harm is something you cannot fully understand unless you have experienced it first hand. when i've spoken to people who have experienced them they seem to understand better. it adds an extra ammount of depth to a relationship.

depression/self harm sufferers should never underestimate the power of talking to someone who has experienced the same things. they can give an entirely different view than those who havent dealt with mental health issues. its also an entirely different support structure which they can give. im very lucky to have that lady in my life. and while its not in the way in which i wish, im still very happy that i have that relationship with her. 

the last relationship i want to mention is the one i had with a counsellor from the YMCA counselling service. that was totally different to anything i've experienced when it came to talking about stuff.

the fact that it was a third party i was talking to made it so much easier to open up, even though it was face to face. i didnt have to see them all the time. i didnt have to talk to them all the time. 

for that one hour a week i could just get loads of stuff off my chest and they would listen and offer their opinion. 

there was no friendship. no complex connections. no fallout after speaking to them. it was basically like a patient/doctor relationship. you only said what YOU wanted to say. it really helped to have that option available to me and if you are reading this and need to talk to someone i strongly suggest looking into the YMCA counselling service or a similar service in your area.

Scars

“Scars are but evidence of life. Evidence of choices to be learned from...evidence of wounds...wounds inflicted of mistakes...wounds we choose to allow the healing of. We likewise choose to see them, that we may not make the same mistakes again.”

this is another one of those posts which has a fair bit to do with self harm. if you are not comfortable with this topic please dont go any further than this picture of a small puppy.

i've mentioned self harm in a previous post and i tried to go into a fair bit of detail about my experiences with it. i briefly went over the sub-topic of scars, but i feel that this is something that requires its own post.

in the aftermath of my self harming a lot of scars were left. going to town on yourself with a Stanley knife blade or a lighter tends to do that. what a lot of people dont realise is that the scars themselves can leave a psychological effect on the person who has inflicted them. 

scars dont go away. they may fade, but they will never fully disappear. at first i kept them ALL hidden. long sleeved shirts, jumpers/hoodies were all used to good effect. as i've progressed after my experiences with self harm i have been able to wear short sleeved shirts, which reveals the 20 or so scars i have on my lower right arm. im not trying to be a big man and show them off. im not trying to make a statement saying "yeah, ive been through some shit times, check me out and chill." im trying to be normal. 

obviously, people have noticed those lines on my forearm. usually there is one of two responses. either they notice them, but dont say anything, which is what older people tend to do. the other response is to ask what happened to my arm. this usually comes from younger people- children or young teens. 

depending on how im feeling and who the person who asked is my reply can vary. with younger people i tend to say it was an accident with a grass strimmer. or i fell off my skateboard into broken glass." its easier to give one of those answers than to have to try and explain self harm to someone who is a bit too young to understand. with older people it tends to be more of a blunt response. "isnt it obvious?" or "what do you think?" 

that sounds harsh and arsey, doesnt it. its very difficult to explain about self harm to anyone of any age, even more so if it is someone you dont know very well. with close friends its easier to talk about....

however with family its very difficult. ive never been good with opening up about stuff to my family. dont get me wrong, i love them all to bits (even if sometimes i want to punch them) but i think there is something very difficult about opening up about something to someone when you see them ALL the time. i almost feel like i end up constantly bracing myself for a question to pop up out of nowhere about it. that constant state of "oh fuck, what are they going to ask me now?" is not nice. 

psychologically, telling my parents about self harm is quite possibly the hardest thing ive ever had to do (and ive done mile high club on COD 4 on the hardest difficulty!) i made a deal with my best (and closest) friend to tell my parents, and i have never been more terrified in my life! 

one of my 'problems' is that im constantly worried about what my parents think. what they'd think if i bring a girl back home to meet them (HA! like that happens!) what they'd think about my views on religion (they are christians) and so on, so obviously i was shitting myself about what they'd think when they found out i'd been using my arm as a chopping board. fortunately, once it was over and done they were ok. (as far as i know) i managed to tell them and get it off my chest. 

i think that my constant worrying about what my parents think is one of the reasons why ive yet to be brave enough to wear short sleeved t-shirts or vests. my upper arm is covered in scars. big scars. little scars. wide. thin. long. short. its not very nice. 

i want to have both my arms out on display. i want people to see my awesome walking dead tattoo on my left arm. i want to be comfortable enough to wear what i want. however there is something; some kind of mental block that is keeping me from having both my arms out. 

im not ashamed of the scars i have. im more concerned with people noticing how much weight i've put on during the course of my depression than the scars on my arm. (yeah, for some reason during my depression i've become really self conscious about how i look) its one of those things that no matter how much i want to do it i just cant, and i have no idea why.

different people see different things when they notice the scars on my forearm. some people see mental health issues. some people see some wannabe emo kid trying to get attention. some people see sadness. some people dont know what they see. what i see are memories. those scars will be with me forever. however i dont want to cover them up with a tattoo or anything. i want to be able to see them whenever i look at my arm. i want them to be a reminder of a worse time than now. a time where all i could do to control myself was to slash my arm. i know now that there are better ways to release any pent up negative emotion; be it anger, sadness or frustration. 

i am not ashamed of my experience with self harm. im not proud of it either, but i will NOT try and forget it. i know exactly how a blade feels when it goes through your skin. i know how it feels to see blood oozing from your body and running down your arm. i know how it feels to have your hands covered in your own blood. i wont forget that. i cannot and will not forget that. 

my experiences with self harm, and the psychological and physical effects it has left on me with stay with me forever. all i can do is try and learn from it, and try and make sure others dont make the same choices i did. 

i posted the quote at the top of the page, but i'll post it here as well

“Scars are but evidence of life. Evidence of choices to be learned from...evidence of wounds...wounds inflicted of mistakes...wounds we choose to allow the healing of. We likewise choose to see them, that we may not make the same mistakes again.”

i have no idea where that quote is from or who said it, but it is definitely something that sticks in my head and is something i can relate to VERY well.

Dont Panic, DONT PANIC!.... oh shit, im panicking!

its not often i write about something thats happened only a day before i put a post on here together. i think that sometimes its better to dwell on things and try to understand them a bit better before going into detail about them. sometimes its just not suitable to write about something so soon after its happened and sometimes it takes me a while to get the nerve to actually write and publish something thats affected me (i.e. the self harm post).

the fact is, that this post is about something that happened yesterday. i'd quite like to look back on this post in a few weeks/months/years to see how i reacted now and how i would have reacted to the situation in the future. its not a huge moment, but its something that has affected me yesterday and today.

now, as any friends and family who read this will know, i LOVE skateboarding. been doing it since i was 10. im not particularly good, but i really enjoy it. i figured that since i hadnt been for a skate for a while i would toddle down to (read that as get a lift from my dad to) my local skatepark and have a roll around. i was really up for a skate and really looking forward to it. 

(cmoac. a picture of me that i like! ^^^)

now, i get to the skatepark and its pretty much empty, however there is a big event going on at the sports centre/playing field where the skatepark is situated.

im rolling around and getting used to being back on the ol' whizzplank after a good couple of months not skating, then all of a sudden a random lady in a "team management" shirt comes over and explains what they are doing and asks if i want to help with doing some skateboard lessons. 

sure, why not? im ok with kids (when im not in a bad mood and they arent being retarded twatmonkeys) so yeah, im in. 

a 'team meeting' happens to explain whats going on and i start panicking. i have no idea why. i end up lying to this group and saying there was an emergency and i had to go home, at which point i left, made a call to get picked up and then i hid in a shop for a bit until my dad arrived. yeah, thats right. a 24 year old, 6ft 4, 15 stone guy ran away and hid. pathetic, right?!

i hate myself for doing that. im so angry, frustrated and upset with myself for pussying out and running away from something which a few years ago i would have had no problem doing. i used to volunteer at a youth group and did so for 7 years for fucks sake. im alright with young people/kids and i enjoy skating. surely combining the two would be a winning combination.

NO. i fucked up and i dont know why. i thought i'd been doing ok until that happened. i have no idea why i had a panic attack and had to get myself out of that situation, but i really do hate myself for it.

people dont realise that depression can cause you to have problems with social interaction. before my mental health issues started i wasnt particularly good with social situations. after my brain went do-lally it became even harder to do. i thought i was ok with places i knew well; the skatepark being one of those places. just goes to show that panic/anxiety attacks can happen anywhere. 

i want to be able to control my emotions. keep myself stable and ok in social situations but it is SO SO SO difficult to do. 

i need to learn how to control this stuff. the trip to the comic con in london is still on, so i need to get my shit together for that. 

sorry for a fairly negative post. i usually try and keep this positive but thats not the case with this one.

i WILL NOT have this happen on my trip to London. i cant let it happen. i want to learn to enjoy myself in social situations. i want to be able to be calm and comfortable around people. 

i want to be myself again...

HULK SMASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (or depression and anger go hand in hand, and then both those hands beat the shit out of you)

anger. good lord, i really could write so so SO much about how pissed off i get nowadays. its strange how as my mental health deteriorated so did my ability to remain calm and not get wound up and end up punching someone repeatedly in the kidneys until they puked up their own testicles. 

before my issues with depression, anxiety and self harm started i was a fairly laid back individual. it took a LOT to piss me off. even more to piss me off enough that someone could get a response or rise out of me. 

in the months before i was diagnosed people noticed that i was becoming a lot angrier. my ability to brush things aside was failing and i was, for lack of a better phrase, becoming a grumpy bastard. as my mental health failed so did my ability to cope. 

now i know there are situations where anyone would be pissed off about things. anger is a natural part of life. everyone has it in them, no matter how calm and collected they may seem. the problem is when that anger starts to choke all the other emotions. instead of being happy about finishing a piece of work at college i was angry that i hadnt done it quicker, or i hadnt done as good a job as i wanted to. instead of being pleased about seeing a group of friends i'd be pissed off that one person didnt show up. etc.

the balance was off. anger was outweighing everything else. 

i became pissed off with friends. angry at family. pissed off and angry at myself (more than anything else i might add) there was no real reason for it. a silly little thing like my parents forgetting to pick up a bottle of coke for me when they went to the shop made me want to hit them with a brick. friends not replying when i sent them a text made me hate them. the tiniest things sent me into a royally pissed off mood.

(other small things sent me into a downward spiral as well, but im concentrating this post on anger)

even when out doing things i enjoyed (to try and stop myself from getting angry) i found myself getting so aggressive, angry and pissed off that it caused others to worry about their safety. i actually had a person threaten to call the police at one time because of how angry i was getting (i shouted at a kid who was throwing rubbish and fizzy drinks all over a skatepark if you're wondering)

i was angry and the world, everyone in it, everything in it and most of all, myself. (my bedroom door will testify to that. a few times i punched hard enough to rip the hinge screws from out of the doorframe...

now obviously i will have to mention the self harm, as that was part of how i was trying to get that anger out of my system. 

when i was doing that i felt fairly calm. i felt in control. in control of my emotions. in control of the damage i was doing. in control of ME. i'll be honest, it felt good to be in control, even if i was leaking red stuff out of the cuts on my arm at the time. 

when i stopped it became very difficult for me to deal with anger. holding it in wasnt good. letting it build up inside me was NOT a good thing to do. i had to find a way to let it out of my system in a way to not cause harm to myself or to others.

to be honest, i havent found a foolproof way to do that yet, however, one thing about me has changed a LOT regarding the anger: i try not to hold it in for any length of time. if im pissed off i try to tell someone. if something insignificant is pissing me off (such as the total bullshit calls the referee on fifa 13 makes) then i try to walk away and give myself a break from that particular thing. 

its much easier to be able to rant TO someone about something than rant AT someone. im lucky that i have friends who i can talk to about just about anything, so sometimes its just good to say to someone "im pissed off about such and such, can i talk to you about it?" and get it out of your system. 

anger is a total bitch, however its a necessary bitch to have. after my dealings with anger i think anyone who doesnt get get angry or show anger every once in a while is a pressure boiler that could go boom. its better to get those aggressive emotions out of your system in little controlled pieces than in one big explosion which will more than likely end up with you losing friends or with a criminal record. 

when you get told by someone who you trust and love that you are "a very scary person to be around when you're angry" it makes you realise just how much you've changed, and just how important it is that you learn to control that anger. 

its ok to be pissed off. just instead of storing that anger up and then going batshit crazy and hulk-smashing your way through your local tescos find a way to let it out gradually, be it through talking to friends, shooting the crap out of things on videogames or through physical exercise. 

and sometimes all it takes to calm you down is to take a few seconds for yourself. a few deep breaths and a reminder to yourself that you CAN control this if you try. 

doubt and anxiety can eat a dick

   one of the things i hate most about my ongoing dealings with depression is the amount of worrying i do. 

   "what do they think?" "what do i do?" "how do i do this?" "why didnt i do that?" "what if this or that happens?" "what are those people saying?" "are they talking about me?"

   take travelling for example. i am terrified of using public transport on my own. im constantly worrying about taking the wrong bus or train or whatever and ending up in the arse end of nowhere with a used ticket and a look of confusion on my face. even though chances are that i wont get on the wrong bus or train i still worry about it. 

   the worrying evolves and soon you find yourself not wanting to do anything because you're imagining every possible scenario in your head. "what if i get the wrong train?" "what if i miss my train back and get stuck in london?" "what if someone steals my wallet while im in london and I have no money or I.D?" "what if there is an accident?" it all builds up and in the end you just end up sitting at home doing fuck all because you're too much of a pussy to actually go outside and try and enjoy life. believe me, that is not something you want to end up running your life.

   that sense of worry spills over into just about everything. "what if i make an arse of myself in front of that girl i like?" "what if i hurt myself trying something new on the ol' skateyplank?" "what if these new people i'm meeting dont like me?"

WHAT IF...

 

   now usually with these posts i try to explain how i deal with these things, but this one i still dont know how to handle that anxiety and the sense of worry i get over little things. i really havent got a clue what im doing. 

   i want to go to london in october and meet an actor from a tv series i really like, but im still thinking "what if?" in my head there are so many things that could go wrong, and thinking about those things scares me. 

   i really want to go to london. and i am seriously considering going down there on my own if i cant find someone to go with me. it scares me, but surely meeting someone you look up to is a good reason to try and confront your fears, right?

i guess i'll find out come october...

"I need help"

    quite possibly the 3 hardest words i have ever had to say. having a huge panic attack, quickly followed by losing control of your emotions and finally finishing up curled in the foetal position crying like a 3 year old who's just been stung by a wasp is not exactly the most elegant or brave ways to admit that you need help. 

   thats how it happened i ended up doing it. my dad walks into my room and finds me like that.

"what wrong? why are you up here crying?"

"because i shouldnt be wishing i was dead all the time... i need help"

   those 3 words are fucking terrifying. i cant imagine how that must have sounded to my father as well. i dont know if you read this but Dad, im sorry i put you through that. 

    i'd always been the kind of person to not ask for help with personal stuff like feelings and emotions since i figured that they are the kind of things my brain should be able to control. knowing that i couldnt control my own thoughts and feelings scared me so much (and still does to this day)

   i'd known for a while that i wasnt right. i'd spoken to a few friends during the lead up to me actually beginning to get help and i was dependent on them for emotional support when i wasnt doing good. they kept saying i needed to go to the doctors and i kept saying no. they were right. 

   there is only so much one person can do alone. there will always come a time where you need some help and support; whether that be from friends, family or professionals. in the end i needed (and still need) all the help i can get from friends, family AND professionals. 

   it isnt easy to admit that you need help. to be honest i didnt want to do it. it just sort of happened. HOWEVER, im glad it did happen because since then ive been able to get help and support from professionals and other depression sufferers alike.

if anyone who is reading this is struggling and thinking about getting professional help then dont be ashamed of it. 1 in 4 people are affected by some kind of mental health issue. as ive said before in my self harm post; you arent alone in this. people will help and support you. IF you let them. im glad i did.

(im keeping this one short because there isnt a lot to say since after admitting i needed help. if i do post much more i'd only end up copying from previous posts, or end up talking about stuff i want to add into future entries into this blog.)