Last Day of De Depression

One of my favorite sights in the wide world is Airbles Road (bear with me) in spring. There is nothing more beautiful than when all the daffodils come out. They make everything which is so mundane and ordinary, look beautiful.

At the start of this diary I felt like a black fog had surrounded me, engulfed me and I couldn’t see a way out. All I could see was failing at council, kids who were suffering, pain, worry and chronic loneliness.

It was all consuming and I didn’t want to, nor feel able to leave my house. It took texts, calls, doctor, visits and a lot of encouragement to gradually come back to life. For my family and friends I will never ever take your love or patience for granted. I’ve gone from not being able to leave, to leaving with hair like candy floss and a lightness in my wee soul. I guess I realised I couldn’t fix everything, especially my kids, but I could love them and help them grow.

I remember one day after the snow was quite heavy I looked out my front window and saw a small daffodil had bloomed, I’ve picked it and put it in a book. I want to keep it forever. That day, for some reason, I remembered we all have dark periods but no one is ever gone forever in depression. My mum has suffered from this horrible illness most of her life and without her I would never got through this. Yesterday she said she wished she was better but if she had to pick one of us to get their health back she would always pick me first. I know that to be a hundred percent true, it’s such all consuming love which makes me me. She is everything that reminds me to come back.

I did this diary because social media is often very fake. Sometimes if we share, and I mean really share then we can help. There is a beautiful poem called Daffodils by William Wordsworth. I’ll leave the last verse below. If you are suffering from depression, remember the Daffodils, take a rest but remember spring always comes and you’ll be back too.

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

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