So, here is my first blog in this place. The people added me to My Space so that’s how I found it.

About two years ago now, I was diagnosed with Depression. It was always something that scared me. I am not sure why, it was just the word. I think. There is always so many negative connotations to the word [i]”Depression”[/i]. I went undiagnosed for close to seven years before I sought help. I think the main reason why I went to seek help was because I had a fantastic man in my life that was prepared to stand be me 100%. He was willing to stick by my bad days and my good. He is amazing.

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Nine years ago, my parents divorced. Messily. It was messy and horrible and painstakingly long. I know that they didn’t intend for it to be that way, but unfortunately, once my fathers’ affair was made public, anything I knew, anything I loved was gone. Just gone.

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My dad and I were close. Really close. And after the affair was revealed, that just went down the drain. I was 13 at the time, and he use to treat me so horribly, I would cry for days before I would have to go his house for visitation. He had told me secrets after he left my mother and now, because I had revealed them (his affair) he was mad. I was so scared, he was going to kill me while I was sleeping. So scared.

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I use to see the school counsellor. Up until she said she “thought I was depressed”. I cried when she said that. I didn’t want to be that way. On the outside I was happy and bubbly. WAsn’t it always suppose to be that way?

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Fast forward to a few years later. Obligatory niceitys and I feel things are going smoothly. I get into a long term relationship with a loser, who does nothing but violate my trust over and over again, cheats on me and steals from my family and myself. I come out of the relationship emotionally battered and bruised. So fragile that the smallest thing would set me off. How could I be so stupid to believe that someone could love me forever if that they were just going to use me?

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The panic attacks started after the long term relationship ended. I didn’t want to leave the house, because he had the most annoying habit of showing up where I was. I didn’t want to leave in fear that I was going to die and that the emotional strain was going to kill my heart. I feel sorry for my now partner. He had to put up with all of that baggage when it had nothing to do with him.
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Then my panic attacks stopped becoming about ACTUAL threats, and became irrational and stupid thoughts. I developed a panic and anxiety disorder in association with my depression, and mild agrophobia. I avoided public places, I would call in sick at work and stopped hanging around with my friends.I had fallen victim to myself.

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So here I am. Twenty-two years old. I feel as if a part of my life has been taken away, but I am slowly taking it back. I am restricted on work duties and taking back my life. I am seeing a counsellor and psychtriast on alternate weeks and I am taking efexor to make my mood more consistent.

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I am not going to be a victim anymore.