Just so you know, this is going to be a very sad blog post. Enjoy reading!
Depression is a huge part of my life. It’s been like that since uni and I’m still surprised that I haven’t killed myself yet. I’ve been able to make it to 27. Let’s see how far I can go.
I got a mental health diagnosis in January (this year) that explained a whole lot. If you’ve been reading my blog since I started blogging in 2018, you should know that I used to write a lot about my experiences with depression and suicidal ideation. Interestingly, several people who have been on this blog don’t know about the mental health aspect. It’s not surprising because y’all love sex so much, and guess what? I love it! What else can keep us going in hard times, like good sex and money?
I stopped writing about my mental health because I got busy, and even when I had time this year to write about it, I didn’t want to. I can’t explain why, but I know it’s related to my diagnosis and how people talk about it in the media, both social and traditional. It doesn’t make me happy at all. Another reason has to be related to being too vulnerable in an article. It doesn’t make me comfortable, but look at me now. I’m taking my morning walk, and I’m getting so emotional. It’s never fun to think about my depression episodes because they are tough times, but today I felt like writing a post about them. I’m hoping it helps someone who’s depressed or suicidal. Maybe knowing that you aren’t alone can be comforting. I mean, I would find it helpful if I wasn’t the one writing it.
I can’t remember my first experience with depression, but I can remember the first night I was suicidal, and my reason for being suicidal was foolish. My diagnosis makes it make sense though.
Guess what happened?
I mistakenly sent a long essay to a guy, telling him how much I wanted him. I was 14 and so dumb to think that that was too much of a big deal. I didn’t think it made sense to be that vulnerable with somebody, and revealing how I felt about him made me scared of getting hurt. Right after mistakenly hitting “send,” I got so upset. I threw my phone across my room and prayed to die. How foolish! I was so sad that night and wanted desperately to die. I remember begging God that I didn’t want to wake up the next day because I didn’t want to face whatever reaction I was going to get from the guy. LMAO. It’s so funny that when I found it hard to sleep, I thought it was related to my prayer, so I prayed again and said I had changed my mind about wanting to die.
I hate being depressed. I hate it so much that whenever I’m a little sad over anything, I get so scared because I know how easily I drown in depression, and the next thing you know, I’d be considering suicide. I’ve said it in a post on this blog that I know exactly how I’ll die if I ever have the courage to kill myself. I mean, I don’t care what you think, but I think people who commit suicide are very brave because it takes a lot to get to that point. I haven’t done it mostly because of the fear of regret and because I love living. I know how to have a good time, and I easily get lost in good moments. When life is good, it can be really good. It just sucks that depression is a thing. I’m in tears now. I don’t know if I will be able to write enough for this post.
It’s just so hard to think about it, and knowing that this is my life and I’m going to be depressed again, if not soon, makes it worse. I deal with depression many times a year. Just last week, I was depressed. Sometimes I know the reason why I am depressed. It can be because I’m broke, because of weight gain, or because I feel stuck in life. Other times, I don’t even know why I’m depressed, like last week. I just keep drowning in sadness until the universe decides that I’ve had enough. It really sucks. In such moments, it takes a lot for me to get out of bed to do anything productive. The only thing that I’d want to do is eat and watch a movie or series. I’d eat so much that after a couple of days I’d gain weight and that would make me more depressed. Sometimes I’d listen to sad music or watch sad videos and cry. My favorite music videos for such moments are “Skyscraper” by Demi Lovato and “What Now” by Rihanna.
Sex can be a great source of distraction when I’m depressed, too. I have a post about that on this blog even: Using Sex as a Distraction. You know how cis men can be really nice when you want to have sex with them? I’d find someone new, go over to theirs, and get lost in the sexy moment with them. Sometimes I’d be at their house for days until I have to go back home and deal with my depression.
A few months ago, I legit got up, dressed up, and went out to kill myself. On my way to my “suicide place,” I was in tears in the Uber. Deep down, I knew I didn’t want to die, but I was tired. I was tired of depression. I hated knowing that it was never going to stop, and I wondered if it made sense to continue living. The only person I wanted to talk to was my mom. I knew how it would hurt her, and someway, somehow I wanted to tell her I was sorry. She didn’t pick up when I called because it was late and it made me more depressed. I can’t tell you what saved me that night in this post, but if you ask me privately, I might tell you. It might make you laugh.
I’m currently not depressed but I can’t stop crying because of this post. Maybe I should stop writing.
Several times in uni, I wouldn’t go to lectures because I’d have no energy to get up and do anything. Nobody around me understood that I could get depressed too. They thought I was the one with no worries or the one who just liked to have fun. I’d be depressed and be indoors for days, and whenever I’m able to step out, I’d make sure I look so good, and I’d end up being so hyper. I’d be the loudest, and you wouldn’t know that I’m depressed. It would only come back when I got indoors, as if it’d been waiting for me to get back home.
I remember that my close friends would think I was out partying when I would miss lectures because I was depressed sometimes. If you can relate to what I’m writing in this article, I’m sending you virtual hugs. I’m so sorry that you have to deal with depression. I don’t know what else to say but sorry. I hope you get better.
I don’t know if I’ll ever write anything about my experiences with depression again. Or maybe I will when I fully process my diagnosis, because it’s still fresh news for me. I have two therapists that I see biweekly. This Monday, I went in feeling a little sad, and because of what I do, one of them mentioned that there’s so much I can do to help other people who have my diagnosis or people who have depression episodes. So, maybe that’s a good reason to write more about my mental health.
Sometimes I think life is worthless because if I’m constantly going to be thinking about killing myself and it will happen eventually, so why not do it now?
Once again, I’m currently not depressed, so don’t worry about me. Like I mentioned, I’m in therapy, and I’ll have to be in therapy for the rest of my life. I’m also taking meds to keep me from being depressed, so I’m good.
There was a time that when I was depressed, I’d go on Tumblr and read people’s experiences with depression, and somehow, it made me feel better, so I hope this post makes you feel better if you are currently depressed or suicidal. Remember, you are not alone. It sucks, and I get it. If you are suicidal, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s making you feel that way, and I am not going to say, “Don’t kill yourself,” because that’s your decision to make. I’m just going to say that life can get better.
Therapy really helps. Meds help too. When I first got my diagnosis, I didn’t want to entertain the thought of taking meds because I couldn’t imagine taking them forever, but ever since I started, I feel so much better. It scares me when I forget to take them because I know I could get depressed. Please get help. I know times are hard, but your life matters, okay? If you are in Ghana and you don’t know where to go for therapy, talk to me. Use the live chat button on the bottom of your screen (the red and white circle). You can DM me on social media or email me too.