*With profuse, abject and advance apologies for the self-indulgent post ahead*

I've never liked to admit that maybe, just maybe I suffer from the 'D' word. Although my symptoms make it all likely, and it has been discussed with friends, I still like to take the ostrich approach when faced with the cold.hard.truth. You see admitting one is depressed is one thing, but going to a doctor is another thing in itself and my stupid pea-brain likes to deal with it all in a peculiar way by trying to ignore it. If I pretend I'm not depressed, and no one diagnoses me, then I'm not. Excellent.

Why am I so stubborn? Because there are other people out there in the world who have valid reasons to feel bad. Real people with real problems. Some with grief and disease and abuse to cope with. And heaven help the one who tries to persuade me otherwise. There's no point even trying to convince me that it's okay for me to feel depressed (I've tried for the last 12 years), because for some reason, I am missing a bit in my brain that makes it okay for me to feel bad without beating myself up about it. Infact, most days it's a struggle for me to even get on with myself. Frustrated friends offer me help, or plead with me to go and get help, but I just fob them off with 'It'll pass, it always does', completely ignoring the fact that it may well pass, but it always comes back.

Ans that's the trouble. Ignoring it doesn't mean it goes away.

What makes it worse that I'm a professional at convincing other people that it's okay for them to be depressed;
'It's not an admission of being weak or broken, or a freak...there's just a chemical imbalance in your brain that needs to be levelled out'
or
'Tons of people feel like this, you don't have to feel ashamed'
or
'Everyone loves you, surely that's testament to how great you are'
or my favourite
'Only you can make changes to feel better...I can't go to the therapist for you...if you ignore it, it won't go away'.

But you see, it's so much easier for me to pretend it's not happening because it works in peaks and troughs and I've become pretty good at avoidance tactics. I spend the troughs telling myself that it'll pass, going out and getting pissed, working late so I don't have to think about it, or sometimes staying away from everyone in case it's contagious. While the peaks are dealt with a semi-perma-grin plastered on my face and disregarding the gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach and the gentle tenter hooks tugging at my heart. If that fails, it's okay because I have become a master of disguise and subterfuge and sometimes I can even trick myself.

But recently I've learned a lot and I have blogging to thank for a lot of these lessons...that people everywhere have problems. That it's okay to feel bad and despondent sometimes. That you can say 'oh they've had a tough life' but that doesn't necessarily mean that you haven't. That bad stuff is relative. That different people deal with situations in different ways. That you shouldn't compare yourself to others. All this and so much more.

This morning, someone said to me;
'Maybe waiting for good stuff to happen doesn't work. Maybe you either have to make good stuff happen, or be able to see the good in the stuff that IS happening. But you sort of come to expect good times and bad times, after a while. That's life. And anyway, sometimes I actually enjoy being sad. It shows you're human, and you can feel. '

I heard him. Actually heard what he wasy saying. And I realised that it's true, I'm not a freak and I'm not stupid for feeling this way. Maybe I should seek help. Maybe I shouldn't. Maybe it's my choice. Maybe I should just give myself a break. And you know what, I feel a lot better for it.

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