Depressive episodes and despair

TRIGGER WARNING - Suicide and self harm references

Depressive episodes are something that have always plagued my life, even though I've not been diagnosed with clinical depression since I was 21 (I’m 26 now). That was a misdiagnosis all because they said I was “too nice” to have BPD; what does that say about the stigma we face? But I digress, the depressive episodes I experience are part of my personality disorder. It’s unlikely that they’ll ever really go away. It’s about learning to cope with them, which I’m well on my way to doing.

Describing one of these episodes of low mood is difficult, especially when you’re on the edge of one, but i’ll try. There’s a feeling before it starts. A sort of sixth sense, not unlike how animals flee a place before a natural disaster occurs. I used to panic when I started feeling this, begging and pleading to unknown influences to not let me go through this torture. I now know it means I maybe have 30 minutes to 2 hours to get myself somewhere I’ll be safe. I tell my partner to put the sharp items and any medications into the locked safe and to make sure I don’t have access to the keys. I try to make myself comfortable and get into pyjamas. I set myself up on the sofa and begin trying to distract myself with TV or games.

Many people describe these lows as a darkness or wave that descends upon them, an external evil. With me it’s as if the dark is bubbling under my skin; coming up from inside of the deepest reaches of my soul. This feeling is as if it’s pouring out of me, filling up all the space and I know that it will eventually drown me.

In the darkness my greatest fears await me. I watch helplessly as my brain replays the most awful moments of my life. I feel the pain of those memories all over again. As I sink further, all the joy that I've ever experienced is distant, as if it happened to someone else. All I know is fear, regret and ultimately despair. My voice tells me that there is nothing I can do about any of it. That my life is meaningless and unless I end it I will suffer forever.  

As the tide swells, so does the pain in my chest. It’s a physical pain that burns and aches. It increases slowly until I’m flailing in desperation looking for a way to stop it. Poor or dangerous coping mechanisms start to look more and more appealing. I become fixated on thoughts of self harm or suicide. Surely anything is better than this right? If there are harmful objects around I know I will be eyeing these up at this point. This is when most of my suicide attempts have occurred. These days I've learned to cope better at crisis point. I let the waves wash over me and do not fight it. Fighting it causes far more pain and extends the episode. I remind myself constantly that the agony will pass and I will return to normal, even if it feels as if I've been in despair for eternity.

The final stage is exhaustion. Heaviness takes over my limbs as if I’ve walked for an entire day. I’m no longer actively suicidal, but grim thoughts haunt me. Telling me how I’m a “failure” and “useless” and how my BPD will always have control of me. Anxiety fills me about the next time I have an episode. I usually have to lay in bed listening to music or watching shows on Netflix. At this time I need support and affection from a loved one and to be brought hot chocolate and nice food, and to wrap me up in a warm, fluffy blanket. In a few hours I’ll be feeling myself again. It’s important that I remember it will happen again, but each time i’ll be stronger.

These depressive episodes take you to a dark place in your mind. However, from it spawns creativity. Some of my best writing and music comes from the deep places in my soul that are hard to reach without being dragged down there kicking and screaming. Many artists find their inspiration in despair and sometimes it can even feel like a bit of a rebirth when you emerge alive. It really teaches you what you can survive.