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Ive struggled on and off with what Im pretty sure was depression since about 5th grade when I first became aware that I was something of a misfit. Its usually been fairly tame or dormant, but with occasional flare-ups caused by stress, bullying, loneliness, worry, loss, or other changes with negative impact on my life. For some reason the Christmas season sometimes triggers it as well. Ive had to fight it off probably around 10 times, some lasting about a month and others lasting nearly a year.
I am not currently suicidal, but I feel like I'm approaching that point. Thereve been a few periods in my life, like during some heavy bullying in middle school, when I had suicidal thoughts. They pop up every now and then when Im depressed, but Ive never seriously considered it an option because I know what it would do to those who care about me.
I never got an actual diagnosis for anything other than ADHD, but Im extremely sure that Im struggling with depression, and moderately sure about the PTSD. I have a family history of depression, especially on my Dads side. Each time Ive fought depression, its been slightly different, but is characterized by a huge drop in my ability to sleep (Ive always been a little bit of an insomniac but it is much worse with depression.) Every time Ive ever dealt with it, it is accompanied by wild oscillation between some strong negative emotion (sadness or sometimes anger), and feeling a hollow surreal emptiness, like I have a black hole inside of me. It often comes with a drop in enthusiasm, energy, and motivation. Like Bilbo Baggins said, I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread.
Now: why I think I may have PTSD. When I was a little girl, around 6 years old, I was repeatedly coerced by a male babysitter named Allan into performing certain... favors... for him. When I finally came forward about it, I never saw him again, and I went to a child physiologist that I hardly remember, but as a result have had a lot of problems. I dont like being left alone with guys I dont trust with my life. I have a terrible fear of needles, and I hate having my neck and shoulders touched, except by extremely trusted people. Ive had nightmares since childhood. Allan was an occasional guest star in my nightmares, though I dont think I really registered why until I got older. I mostly forgot about him until around high school when my first relationship (with a boy named Victor I met in middle-school) started to get serious. I think thats what triggered the nightmares to get worse, because Allan is no longer just a guest star in my nightmares, but often the main antagonist of them. I get screaming-awake-night-terrors about him sometimes. My boyfriend, P has helped me combat some of these issues; my fear of falling in love and my low self-esteem; and I find that sleeping next to him I get better sleep because he calms me when Im sleeping restlessly or talking in my sleep, and makes me feel safe when waking from a nightmare or night-terror. Many of my phobias still remain. I feel scarred and broken to this day.
My mental health has never been this bad before. I started feeling depressed around March when everything went to hell due to COVID. I had a few suicidal thoughts in June and reached out to my mom, and with her help, fought them off over the course of about a month. They havent been back since, though I still have thoughts of self-loathing and escapism, I no longer have actually suicidal thoughts. The depression got significantly worse in the period leading up to leaving for school, and made another drastic leap when P was suddenly put into a dangerous quarantine with a group of possible COVID carriers. Its been worsening every day. Im having a harder time coping here because most of my support group is far away, leaving me with mostly just P, and also some trusted people in ROTC, and my roommate. Ive always been a very huggy person, leaving pretty much just P to support me on that front since I dont trust anybody else here with that level of physical contact.
It takes me a very long time to get out of bed. On Wednesdays and Fridays, I dont have any obligations until around 11 when I eat lunch with P, so I wind up prone to just lying in bed for many hours, and eating breakfast in my room because I dont want to get up and go to the dining hall to eat. It takes an immense amount of effort to do anything at all. Ive been wanting to write this for 3 days and only just now worked up the strength to do so. I wobble back and forth between feeling so sad that I have to try not to cry (and sometimes fail), and feeling so empty that I think Im going to suffocate and implode. Ive lost my appetite almost completely, and only eat because I know I need to. I have no motivation, energy, enthusiasm, peace, or satisfaction anymore. Several of my hobbies have lost their fun, and I dont know about others because COVID prevents me from doing them.
Its gotten to the point where its seriously interfering in my ability to get things done on my own. If it wasnt for obligations like ROTC and class, and P's help, I would probably never leave my room and scarcely leave my bed. I just want to lie in bed and do nothing, think about nothing, feel nothing, and basically just avoid the world and myself. I have a hard time focusing and remembering things; my mind feels like fog and all the days seem blurred together into one long day. I can hardly sleep at all, and Im not sure that I even want to, because the nightmares have gotten so bad as of late. Unlike the depression, the PTSD aspects havent made radical jumps with stress triggers, but have instead been on a slow but steady rise since my breakup with my first boyfriend, Victor.
I know from a logical perspective that I need help. Ive reached out to my mom, my ROTC dets resiliency department, and a few of the aforementioned trusted friends, as well as P. However, this time, most of my coping mechanisms (outdoor time, reaching out to friends, certain comfort foods, spending time with loved ones, listening to music, writing poetry) seem to be having little to no effect. The only thing that actually seems to provide any relief is spending time with P. He is very optimistic and light-hearted, with good work-ethic, and he makes me feel valuable and cared for. However, he doesnt seem to be able to have any sort of lasting effect, just a temporary relief from the pain, and even that seems to be diminishing.
However, Im not sure if it would be worth it to get help. A diagnosis of clinical depression or another major mental health problem can get me DOBMERBd, removed from the Air Force ROTC. I think getting disenrolled might be worse than any help I may receive, since it would mean the death of a 10-year dream. ROTC is also helping me fight, since it forces me to maintain physical fitness and interpersonal connection, provides a sense of belonging and identity, and makes me leave my room for things like class and meetings. Additionally, good professional help like psychotherapy and medication are expensive, and I want to avoid medication if I can because of things like side-effects and dependencies. I dont want to put my family under financial strain, and Im not sure if this is the depression talking or not, but I dont feel like I have time or energy to spare for therapy, either.
At the same time, despite all the cons of getting professional help, and my distaste for having to medicate for mental health, I know that I am rapidly approaching a dangerous point of disability. If this continues, my grades may slip, I risk losing my scholarships, which in turn puts my chances of higher education in peril. Also, allowing the depression to deepen may risk the return of suicidal thoughts, which though I know how to deal with, is horrible to be put through.
I guess me writing all this up is just a way of thinking by typing. I don't know what I'm hoping will come of this. Maybe help? Or just someone similar so I don't feel so alone? Who knows. I dont really know how to close this, so uh The End.
