An inspiration?

A lot of people have been telling me that they find my posts inspirational. I've received some envy from fellow writers that my statistics are doing quite well; nearly 3000 views now. I am really pleased for myself, of course, but I can't help but feel a bit guilty that others haven't shared in the pleasure of success. There are so many good writers out there, many of them much better than me, but I suppose I write things that people want to hear. I make people feel safe and good about themselves, I tell them it's okay to hurt and cry. Reading this blog is like getting a hug, it's reassuring and comforting; at least I like to think so, I certainly get comfort out of writing it. 

Others' writing may be more specialised, about certain topics or just a different style. But it's good quality writing, it's good to read and should get just as much traffic as my foggy ramblings. I don't feel justified in having this much success because I'm really nothing special. I just speak from my experiences  and from my heart. I'm not a counsellor, or a mental health professional, but I've survived a lot of pain, and I have a lot of empathy; sometimes too much. I can feel other people's pain, sometimes even more than they can. Suffering makes me hurt and I feel so powerless to help most of the time. 

But I'm going to keep writing if it helps people, because that makes it all worthwhile. If I can get through to one lonely, broken or unhappy person, and give them hope, then my work here is done. Helping people is all I want to do, but at the moment I can barely help myself. I feel like I'm falling again, back into the black slimy pit of depression. Depression is evil, and for me it's sort of worse than having M.E. I know a lot of M.E. sufferers do get depression as a result of their illness, after all becoming so severely ill can trigger a grieving process in itself. The loss of independence and health is so extreme, and for post people who get M.E. they are highly independent and hard-working people, I certainly was, and M.E. robs you of that. 

Part of my problem, however, is that before I was diagnosed as having M.E. I was diagnosed as having depression. Now I'm not sure whether this was a correct or incorrect diagnosis, but whichever it was, it really didn't help when it came to getting help for my M.E. which is completely separate from any depression I may or may not have had. Another problem here is that clinical depression and M.E. can have a lot of the same symptoms, but the treatment is the complete opposite. For someone with clinical depression, getting up and going out for a walk makes them feel much better. But for someone with M.E. that would make them feel a lot more ill and fatigued. 

That was partly when I noticed the change, aside from the riding accident and the Glandular fever type virus, was that my usual 'get up and go' attitude was making me worse instead of better like it usually did. Before M.E. struck, a walk to the park would lift my mood and my well-being, a ride through the woods tenfold. But after that, I tried to go back to the gym, I tried to exercise, get out of the house, do all the right things for depression. It made me so ill, but I kept going. I didn't want to be weak and I didn't want to let anyone down. It caught up with me in the end, I began having falls and faints, and just feeling terrible. I started having to take days off and it seems so quick that I've ended up pretty much bed-bound and very reliant on others to care for even my basic needs.

But with this rapid decline in physical health, my mental health has suffered a great deal too. I had to stop attending counselling because I was housebound, and still haven't found a counsellor who will come out to me. I've had to spend a lot of time alone, and with the current danger of me being alone, I've become very anxious. My separation anxiety from my boyfriend is doing neither of us any good and I'm slipping back into depression again. I've tried to fight it because the moment you admit to any GP treating you for M.E. that you're feeling a bit down they instantly label you psychosomatic and ship you off to the looney bin. (Well not quite that extreme but most doctors seem to think that a neurological illness like M.E. cannot coexist with a mental illness like depression, when in fact the former can lead to the latter.) 

I want to get my physical health sorted first, I have a severe, chronic, neurological illness that needs proper treatment; none of this silly CBT/GET nonsense. But if I mention the depression and anxiety to the doctor, he'll make that the priority and forget about my physical problems. It's such a battle getting treatment for M.E. as it is, so I refuse to give the Dr a foothold by telling him I'm feeling increasingly lost in my own head, like I'm at the bottom of a dark pit, and that any time I am alone I just cry for hours with anxiety and despair. I will sort out seeing the counsellor again, if they can make it out to see me. I have nothing against counsellors as long as they aren't CBT counsellors. 

I do not respond to CBT as it is too aggressive. I am very very fragile and don't react well to being told what I'm feeling is wrong. When I had CBT before, I was treated awfully and it made me much more unstable. I went in depressed and left suicidal. I vowed then to never trust CBT again and I never will. There are other types of counselling though, and they've helped me in the past so I'm willing to attempt it again, health allowing. 

I'm sorry this post hasn't been my usual fluffy self, I guess I just wanted to say that the reason I write such 'inspirational,' stuff is because like all of you, I'm going through a lot at the moment. I know what you're feeling and I'm here for you, because I love you, and I don't want to see you hurting.
*big hugs*
Alice xxxx
© Alice Daley 2013