Mental Health Awareness Week 2018

(Blog Note: I was hoping to post this yesterday but I just had to take a break from everything so it’s a day late. Sorry!)


As many of you will be aware, this last week, 14th to 20th May, was Mental Health Awareness Week and although I fully intended to have a series of mental health related posts ready to go up, life conspired against me to make that impossible. A big part of that was putting my first single out (available hereeeeeee!) so I’m not complaining but it has been stressful and taking up a lot of my brain. So my posts have been a bit all over the place – I’m working on that, I promise. But I did want to acknowledge this week because it is important.

I have seen so many social media posts this week where people have shared their stories and struggles with mental health and I’ve been blown away by each one. Sharing this stuff is such a big deal and I’m in awe of everyone who chooses to do so. This sort of stuff can make you feel like the world is shrinking around you but feeling understood opens it back up; it’s incredibly healing. I didn’t know how much I needed it until I found it. In my experience, talking about all of this has gotten easier, over time and with ‘practice,’ but it’s still hard. I still find myself hitting an invisible wall, choking on the air in my lungs, knowing that everything might change if I say the words out loud. It’s happened before. But I know that that’s the fear talking. And most of the time, I know better than the fear.

If you’ve followed me for a while, you know that I live with Autism Spectrum Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, Depression, Anxiety, Social Anxiety, and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, although I wouldn’t blame you for losing track. My posts tend to jump around a lot, between different experiences and different diagnoses. Plus, things can change over time. Over the last twelve months, I’ve struggled particularly with the OCD, the anxiety, and the depression – the depression most of all. This time last year I was in a really bad place and one of the consequences of that was the decision to change my medication; it wasn’t the right thing for me anymore. Since then, I’ve been trying to find a new one without much luck; the side effects have been a rollercoaster ride and most of the time, I’m too numb to really feel any of my emotions. True, I’ve had very few meltdowns but, if meltdowns are the price of feeling things and therefore feeling like I’m actually alive, I will take them. So I’m not done with the medication search. Not yet.

I guess I’m surviving. I’m getting through. Hopefully, by next year, it will be more than that.

This week might have been about speaking out but that doesn’t mean it’s the only course of action that requires courage. Simply living with mental illness requires courage and as long as you are doing what you need to do to be safe and happy (or what will get you there), that’s all that matters.

Yes, It’s Another Medication Review

In my last session with my psychiatrist, we went over my experience of taking Lithium and decided that it was time to try something else. He actually said that he was impressed I’d held out so long so that’s something to be proud of. I think. I wasn’t trying to be a martyr: I’ve just had so many experiences of people brushing me off that I always feel like I have to have enough evidence to prove that it’s real. Anyway, he prescribed me Lamotrigine and because that can be taken with Lithium, I could switch without having to wait for the Lithium to get out of my system. So that was good. I’m getting increasingly frustrated by this process.

As always, this is just my experience. Please, please don’t ever mess around with your medication without the advice of your medical professional.

WEEK 1

The first week was really tough. I swung sickeningly between hot and cold, had migraine-like headaches, felt nauseous and shaky and very anxious. I also felt the closest thing to depression that I’ve felt in a while. With the hope of the sleeping through the worst of the side effects, I had started out by taking it at night but straight away I found that it was affecting my quality and ability to actually sleep. I had several nights of barely sleeping until I changed to taking it first thing in the morning.

WEEK 2

The main thing in the second week was the extreme fatigue. I slept long hours and found it difficult to wake up in the morning, then I struggled to stay awake but often fell asleep during the day. I was easily overwhelmed and felt anxious most days. The feelings of depression hadn’t dissipated either.

WEEK 3

As prescribed, I increased the dose so there wasn’t much time for the side effects to settle. My sleep was still pretty disrupted. I slept restlessly but woke early and fell asleep during the day. I was still incredibly tired. I had periods of feeling very shaky and dizzy; at one point it was so bad that I couldn’t get out bed until the evening. I was still feeling anxious and depressed and although my concentration and motivation hadn’t been great up to that point, it became practically non-existent.

WEEK 4

Again, I was sleeping a lot but still absolutely exhausted. I was also very anxious even though there didn’t seem to be a cause for it, which of course made the anxiety worse.

WEEK 5

This week was my first week in Nashville so it’s hard to tell what was a result of that and what was a result of the medication. I was more anxious than I have been in months and it got to the point where I was questioning everything, even the things that I’m usually steadfast about. That was very distressing. The jet lag hit me hard and I was constantly exhausted, falling asleep in the middle of the day and still struggling to stay awake until a reasonable bedtime.

WEEK 6

The second week of Nashville was a bit easier. I was still exhausted but the anxiety faded a bit as plans started to work out and produce results. That usually lessens some of the anxiety but there was still more than on a normal day and although I had one evening of feeling on top of the world (playing Song Suffragettes – see my Nashville post), I was still struggling to keep my head above the surface of the depression that felt like it was just waiting to drag me under.

WEEK 7

During this week, I moved house, something I had been long (at the very least) apprehensive about. So, in the days before, I was anxious and unsettled and then the actual move was very difficult. I was almost too anxious to function and on the evening of the day we moved in, I had a meltdown for the first time in months. It was a horrible experience and for days after, I was fragile and shaky and emotional. I barely slept and even though I don’t eat much anyway, I barely ate at all for a few days. And at the end of the week, something – I don’t know what – triggered a new, suffocating wave of depression that really threw me. That was as low as I’ve been for a very, very long time. I was very depressed and kept bursting into tears; I felt like glass filled to the top with water that you only have to nudge slightly before it spills over. The smallest thing – nothing even – made me cry, or start laughing hysterically that then turned into crying. I was miserable and exhausted. In the midst of all that, we increased the dose but I honestly can’t tell what was medication and what was just life.

Week 8

It took a while to get out of that depression, even just a little bit. And then I was back in the vague blankness that has been characteristic of my recent experiences with medication: it’s either anxiety and depression or nothing. There was a point when I thought that would be preferable to the extremes of emotion I’m used to feeling but now I know it isn’t. Feeling is everything; there is nothing worse than apathy. And that’s where I still am.

Another thing that I never even wrote down is that I’ve been experiencing muscle twitches, mostly in my legs. It’s not dramatic and it happens so infrequently that I didn’t even equate it with the medication until it had happened several times. It’s not an issue but I think it’s worth mentioning and something that I was concerned would get worse if we continued to increase the dosage.

But after speaking to my psychiatrist again, we’ve decided to try something new. Lamotrigine hasn’t been terrible but it hasn’t been good enough: my concentration and motivation are still terrible, I’m exhausted, and the anxiety and depression are still significant struggles. It hasn’t made anything worse but it also hasn’t made anything better, which is the point of them. So I’m trying a new medication. I know that Lamotrigine is there if I need to come back to it but I need something to hope for.

And a final note: if you’re struggling with medication, whether it’s your first try or your fiftieth, please don’t give up hope. This process is ridiculously long and complicated but when you find the right one, it’s so worth it. You can be you again but more efficient. And that is potentially it forever. You may never need to try another medication again. So this time – this struggle – is an investment. Try to hold on to that.

Hello and Goodbye to Lithium

About a month ago, I went back to my psychiatrist. We discussed the Venlafaxine and since it hasn’t had the effect we’d hoped for, it was time to think about what to do next. The most obvious option, the one most likely to work in the shortest amount of time, was to add an ‘augmenting agent’ and so I started taking Lithium. I’m aware of the perception of Lithium but it didn’t worry me, not any more than any other medication anyway. I’m always hopeful that a new medication will work, and if that comes with the opportunity to defy expectations then it’s even better. So I was feeling optimistic and, as I did with the Venlafaxine, I took notes so that I could track any progress and/or side effects.


FIRST NIGHT AND NEXT DAY

As the first night and then day was pretty interesting, I thought I’d write this one up separately. I slept restlessly and woke up multiple times with night sweats. The first time I woke up was very surreal: I was overwhelmed by the physical sensations in my body. I remember thinking, “I can really feel my hands. I really have hands.” It was very strange. I struggled to get back to sleep and when I got up in the morning, I felt very nauseous. I had a headache all day and by the evening, I felt very spaced out and tired.

WEEK 1

The restless sleep and night sweats continued, joined by complicated and busy dreams. I found it very difficult to wake up and I was so sleepy that I was falling asleep multiple times during the day. When I was awake, I was tired and weak, like there was no strength stored in my body. It was frustrating and upsetting to struggle to do everything I would normally do. I was spaced out and nauseous and shaky; if I stood up for more than about thirty seconds, I got dizzy and nauseous and my vision went white. It was horrible.

WEEK 2

I was still having difficulty sleeping and was struggling with sleepiness during the day. I continued to struggle with nausea and feeling spaced out but I also felt low; I think I would’ve felt depressed if I was able to really feel anything. The shakiness and weakness also continued.

WEEK 3

And we STILL have difficulty sleeping. It was taking me hours to get to sleep and hours to wake up and in the few hours between, I slept very restlessly. Then when I was awake, I was very sleepy. The shakiness, weakness, and nausea combination was still around. I also started to struggle with almost constant anxiety; there were stressful things going on but I couldn’t seem to shake it off once I’d done those things so it was around all the time.

WEEK 4

Continued difficulty sleeping, especially staying asleep and then I was so tired that I fell asleep during the day. Those short sleeps were actually the best I’ve had in months, much better than the hours I got at night. I was also still struggling with the shakiness, dizziness, and nausea, as well as the anxiety.

WEEK 5

The restless sleep continued, as did the struggling to wake up. On several occasions, I fought to wake up only to fall asleep again; I also fell asleep during the day multiple times. I was constantly tired. The nausea and dizziness also continued, as did the anxiety.


I did not like taking Lithium. It didn’t actually help my depression – I’m still feeling very emotionally numb and the fatigue has only gotten worse – and the side effects were constant and actually got worse over time: the difficulty sleeping, the shakiness/dizziness/nausea combination as well as all of those as separate symptoms… I was struggling so much that I had multiple doctors’ appointments to make sure that nothing else was going on. I had blood tests and blood pressure tests and even an ECG. They didn’t show anything outside the normal ranges but the fact that it was bad enough to warrant those tests meant that I booked an appointment with my psychiatrist for as soon as possible to look at my medication.

I have now had that appointment and we’ve decided to stop the Lithium; he was surprised and impressed, I think, that I’d stuck with it so long considering how bad the side effects were. Since the Venlafaxine hasn’t done much for me, I’d like to try something else but given how much is happening in the next couple of months, I’m reluctant to put myself through the ordeal of getting off it, the period of no medication, and then getting onto something new. So for now, I’m trying a new augmenting agent and I guess we’ll see how that goes. I think the emotional numbness is preventing me from getting too low about anything but regardless of that, I’m still optimistic about medication, even with all the bad experiences I’ve had recently. I fully believe that it was Phenelzine that made going to university possible and even now, years later, I still remember so clearly how good I felt when I started taking it. It felt like I was flying. It was amazing. Searching for that will always be better than letting the depression take over, even if I have to let it take over to remember that.

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2017 in Review

It’s become a bit of a tradition for me to summarise the year on Instagram with a collage of photos and a sappy caption but since I have the blog this year, I thought I’d write something a bit more in depth (although I will still do my Instagram, fear not). I want to collect my thoughts and take a look at what I loved and lost and learned.

This has been a hard year, mainly because of my mental health. I struggled with my medication for a long time before having the worst meltdown I’ve ever had and that was the trigger for a really bad bout of depression that I still haven’t really recovered from. It’s not as bad as it was but it’s been really hard. Because of that, I decided to change medications and that process has swallowed up most of the year. Honestly, that’s been awful. I’ve been in a really bad mental place, it’s made me physically unwell, and probably the worst part is that it’s affected my cognitive functioning, making me unable to write. That has been unbearable. But it hasn’t been all bad, mental health wise. I confronted someone who really hurt me, I got involved with research studies into Autism, I applied to ‘Behind The Scars’ and talked openly about my experiences with self harm. I somehow got over my paralyzing anxiety about moving house and I’ve started communicating more with my family. So while it’s been a really difficult time, I can see that I have made some significant strides this year.

Another big thing was graduating university. I had always wanted to graduate with First Class Honours and while I expected it of myself, I still can’t quite believe that I managed it. I want to write something much more in depth about my experience at uni because there were a lot of ups and downs but ultimately, it was a great experience and I’m really proud of everything I achieved there. I also made some amazing friends who I will hopefully have in my life forever. The UEL graduation was stressful and exhausting but the ICMP graduation was satisfying and fun. And going out afterwards was a bizarre experience but I was proud of myself for defying my anxiety. My only regret about finishing uni and then graduating is that my depression overwhelmed them: when I found out I’d got a First, I didn’t feel anything. I wanted to be ecstatic but I couldn’t feel it. And yet, I would’ve been devastated had I not got a First. I’m trying to accept that situation for all it was though; I can’t change it now.

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And then, of course, there is the music. This was obviously massively affected by my mental health but there were still some great moments this year. I wrote my most important song so far and I’ve been working on its release ever since (fingers crossed for early 2018) and that is so amazing to me. I’m so excited for it. I’ve also had some really fun recording sessions and I’ve had some awesome performing experiences: I got to play a songwriters’ circle with Lauren Aquilina, I hosted another songwriters’ circle at my friend’s charity benefit for TWLOHA, I played a showcase for a record label, and I got to play for my local Autism charity, Amaze. I mean, how cool is that? I also had another really special trip to Nashville. And last but certainly not least, I’ve been to some incredible concerts this year, including: The Shires, Sasha, East of Eli and Chyler Leigh, Country2Country, Tin Pan South Festival, Willemijn Verkaik, Kelsea Ballerini, Lady Antebellum, NADINE, and Maren Morris. Concerts are so, so important to me. Those are the moments where I really feel alive and so I always keep money aside for when they come around. They’re the only thing that I really spend money on.

I’m not sure whether it’s even possible to classify this year as a good one or a bad one. It would be easy to file it away as a bad year because of the difficult mental health stuff but there have been a lot of amazing moments. I went back to my two favourite places in the world, I listened to great music and saw some incredible art pieces, I saw my kittens all grown up, and I had some amazing experiences with the lovely people I’m so lucky to call my friends. I even started drinking alcohol for the first time; that’s been an experience! Thus far, I don’t really like it but I’m really, really, REALLY enjoying not feeling controlled by my anxiety, at least not in that area of my life.

Overall, this year has been a year of waiting. It really has: waiting for the medication to work, waiting to feel better, waiting to release my first single, waiting to move, waiting to graduate… Even when I was still at uni, I was counting down the days until we finished (because I didn’t want to leave and I was stressed about getting everything done in time). Always, always waiting. This year has been measured in seconds, minutes, hours, days, rather than experiences, far more than any other year. So that’s my hope for the new year: to wait less and do more. I know that many of these things were out of my control and when there were things I could influence, I did my best to do so. And I did some pretty cool stuff while I was waiting for other things. But I really want next year to feel different. I can’t remove waiting from my life but I’d like to not feel so stuck when I do have to wait.

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“2017 was the year of waiting: waiting to release music, waiting to move house, waiting for medication to start working, waiting to feel better. It’s been slow and painful so I’m grateful to be moving on. But there have been some great moments this year too. I wrote some songs I’m really proud of, saw some amazing concerts, and went back to Nashville. I tried to see my friends as much as possible and worked hard on my mental health. Hopefully I’ll start to see some of that work pay off in 2018.” (x)

100 Days of Venlafaxine

I meant to post this yesterday, which actually was the 100th day, but then I managed to break my memory stick, where the file was saved. So that threw a spanner in the works. But here we are. The files were recovered. No harm done.

I’ve been taking Venlafaxine for 100 days now so I thought it was time I compiled my notes and summed up the whole thing. I know that when I started taking it, it would’ve been really helpful to know about someone’s experience. My psychiatrist gave me all the medical information but that didn’t really prepare me for what it felt like. So if you’re about to start taking Venlafaxine or are thinking about it, maybe this will help you. And if not, maybe this will give you a little insight into one experience of taking medication for a mental illness.


Week 1 (Dose: 37.5mg)

The nausea was so strong that all I could think about was not throwing up. I was very dizzy and tired all the time. But it was much easier to wake up in the mornings, quickly rather than having to drag myself into consciousness.

Week 2

The nausea faded a bit. I had headaches and was exhausted all the time. I continued to wake up early.

Week 3 (Dose: 75mg)

I was so tired that I fell asleep at random but I was still waking up early. I felt very faint and was too shaky to do anything but I had no concentration so I couldn’t do much anyway.

Week 4

The week was overshadowed by severe, unexplained leg pain. I had several doctors’ appointments to rule out the medication and DVT, the next most likely explanation, but eventually it faded by itself. Aside from that, I felt a bit lighter emotionally.

Week 5

I had some leg pain but it faded much more quickly. I was exhausted and very sleepy, regardless of how much sleep I got.

Week 6

I was so very, very tired, so tired that I could barely do anything. But I was still waking up very early.

Week 7

Again, still very, very tired but I was also feeling very anxious and depressed. I also noticed lots of bruising, especially on my legs that didn’t seem to have a cause. All I had to do was lean on something hard, like the edge of a table, and I’d have a bruise.

Week 8 (Dose: 150mg)

A bad week. I felt very disconnected and depressed. I was also exhausted so I didn’t have the energy to do any of the things that can help. I was also pretty unwell for a couple of days but I don’t know if that was related or just a coincidence.

Week 9

I started struggling desperately to wake up. It was like being trapped between being awake and asleep. It took all my concentration to wake up but all I had to do was blink and all that effort is wasted and I have to start all over again. I was exhausted and sleepy all the time.

Week 10

I was struggling desperately to wake up and still exhausted and sleepy all day.

Week 11

I reduced the Quetiapine from 125mg to 100mg (which I was prescribed while taking Phenelzine to help me sleep – I’d wanted to come off it straight away but was advised to wait so that I wasn’t dealing with reactions from both medications), which made waking up easier but I was still exhausted, depressed, and without any motivation.

Week 12

The sleepiness started to creep back in and I was still exhausted and without motivation.

Week 13

Again, I was really struggling to wake up; I couldn’t stay awake but I also couldn’t get back to sleep either. I managed to get the Quetiapine down to 50mg but I wasn’t sure if it was helping or not. I still had very little concentration and motivation which was really difficult and upsetting.

Week 14 (Dose: 225mg)

To combat the sleepiness, I reduced the Quetiapine to 25mg so my sleep was very all over the place. I was waking up really early and not getting more than about six hours. But I did feel more awake and alert which was a relief. I had several really productive days and wrote two songs after not being able to write for more than six months. That gave me an evening of complete joy, something I can’t remember feeling. Unfortunately that only lasted one night and my mood dipped afterwards because I missed it so much.

Week 15

My mood was fairly stable, no major ups or downs. I wasn’t depressed but I wasn’t feeling that positive either. I was tired and sleepy and feeling a bit lost.


I just wanted to draw particular attention to how long this process can take. When I started my last medication, I felt better very quickly but it’s been a very different story this time. It’s not as simple as taking the pills and feeling better. There’s the time it takes to decide or justify that you need a new medication (or a first medication), the time it takes to come off the old one, the time it takes to build up and adjust to the new one… I started this process in May and it’s now December. Seven months and I still don’t feel that much better. I’m hanging on to hope that things will start to get better – I’m holding on to that one really good day – but it’s hard.

I think there is a lack of understanding when it comes to this stuff. From the outside, it can seem like you’re not doing anything to get better and there’s a lot of guilt attached that, from other people and from yourself. But on top of whatever mental health problem you’re dealing with, there’s adjusting to the medication and whatever side effects come with it. That’s a lot. It’s exhausting physically, mentally, and emotionally and you shouldn’t feel pressured to do things you feel unable to or feel guilty about whatever you need to do to get through it. I’m still trying to learn this. I constantly feel like I’m not trying hard enough, even when I’m so exhausted that I don’t think I can get out of bed. But that’s a topic for another day.

I hope you all had a lovely Christmas and I’ll see you in the next post.

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Side Effect City

Just over a month ago, I started taking Venlafaxine for my depression. I’ve tried lots of different anti depressants in the past, many of which I had a bad reaction to, so I was nervous. Weaning myself off the Phenelzine was hard and I was very, very depressed but somehow, I reached a point where I felt ready to feel different. It was a bit like breaking the surface after being underwater. I was, and still am, desperate to feel better.

Week 1

I started on a very low dose, half the lowest therapeutic dose, so that my body could get used to it. But despite that, I felt the effects straight away and incredibly strongly. I was very nauseous. It was so bad that I couldn’t really concentrate on anything else; all my concentration was focussed on not throwing up. It made me dizzy and I was tired all the time. I did check with my psychiatrist to make sure it was okay to keep going with it and he said it would pass so I focussed on tolerating it.

The other immediate change was my sleep. I went from struggling to wake up before eleven (and I mean really struggling: it felt like I was drowning) to being wide awake at eight o’clock in the morning. It was bizarre.

Week 2

The nausea faded around the beginning of the second week, which I was very grateful for. My mood, while still pretty low, was stable, and I was still waking up much earlier than I had been able to previously. However I started having headaches and I was exhausted all the time, which made it very hard to do anything.

Week 3

In the third week, I went up to the lowest therapeutic dose. This caused a pretty dramatic reaction. For the first few days I was so tired that I fell asleep in the middle of the day, something I haven’t done in years. But despite that, I was waking up even earlier, between six and six thirty am.

By the middle of the week, I couldn’t concentrate at all. I couldn’t hold a conversation, I couldn’t follow the storyline of a forty-minute TV episode, I couldn’t even play a game on my phone… That was scary, but I couldn’t even really feel that because I couldn’t seem to process the emotion. I started to feel faint and very shaky and that went on for several days. If I stood up for longer than a couple of minutes, my legs started to shake and my hands shook so badly that I couldn’t hold a pen. That was very unpleasant.

Week 4

Most of the fourth week was lost because of severe, unexplained leg pain that had me in tears. My psychiatrist didn’t think it had anything to do with the medication and DVT was ruled out but other than that, we don’t know what caused it. I’ve been taking painkillers since and it’s been better. So that tired me out and overwhelmed everything else. But since then, the shaking has mostly stopped and I’m back to waking up between eight and nine in the morning.

This week is the first where I’ve felt different mentally and emotionally while taking Venlafaxine. I wouldn’t say I feel better but I’ve been feeling a bit lighter. That feels very strange and a bit scary. With this new lightness, I’ve been feeling a bit lost which I’ve written about here. I’ve been so depressed for so long that I can’t remember what it’s like to not be depressed. But despite all of those confusing emotions, I am pleased that this medication is starting to work. It will probably take another month or so to really know how it’s affecting me but it’s looking positive and I’m really grateful for that.

The Big White Room

Since taking the Venlafaxine, I’ve felt different. I’ve felt a little bit lighter, mentally and emotionally. In some ways this is better but in some ways it’s not. Depression is such a heavy feeling but now I feel a bit like I’m floating away. I feel kind of lost, or like I’ve lost something really important. In a weird way, I miss feeling depressed. No, that’s not right. I don’t miss it, but I feel kind of lost without it. And feeling like that makes me very anxious.

Objectively I understand why I feel this way: I’ve spent a lot of time feeling depressed. It’s familiar. It’s certain. It’s a world where everything is in focus with clear and sharp edges. Now the edges are fuzzy. I feel like I don’t know who I am or what I’m doing. And emotionally, I’m finding that really hard to get my head around.

I know who I am when I’m depressed. Those emotions overwhelm me, they define me. Depression takes over my personality, or becomes the biggest part of it. It affects everything. It’s like depression takes up all that space. But now, there’s suddenly all this space that wasn’t there before. It feels a bit like when you stand in the middle of a really massive empty room. It’s quiet. It’s cold. It makes you feel so small and lonely. And if I look at myself in that big white room, I don’t know who I am. I don’t know if I’m optimistic or pessimistic. I don’t know if I’m a good person or a bad person. I don’t know if I’m loud or quiet. I know some little things but not the big things.

I do recognise the opportunity here, the opportunity for things to be different: to fill the room with new things. That thought is both thrilling and terrifying. But I’m not sure I’m there yet: I’m still pretty overwhelmed by how big this room is, how empty it is. I don’t know where to start.

I’ve thought a lot about identity, both mine and in general. It’s something I’ve struggled with for a long time and something I want to write more about. But I think your identity is made up of the things about you that don’t change, the fundamental aspects of your personality. I don’t know much about myself but I do know that I’m very sensitive. I’ve always been sensitive and I can’t see it ever changing. So I guess that’s a part of my identity.

I’m not sure my depression is gone but I’m not drowning in it anymore. And that’s scary. I’m so used to it that I’m not sure who I am without it. When I’m depressed, that big white room is so dark that I don’t know that all that space is there, so I don’t even know the room is that big. But now I know it’s there and it’s very compelling. I keep turning it over in my mind. As I said, I know who I am when I’m depressed. I want to know who I am when I’m not. So I guess that starts now. It’s a brave new world.

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