Ramblings of a Sunday morning

I'm currently lying in my boyfriend's bed on a Sunday morning. He has gone to Mass but I was too cold and feeling a little emotionally fragile so decided to stay behind. It's given me some time to think. Think about life, about what has been happening since I last blogged, about where my life is and was and will be.



Things have been hard to say the least these past few weeks. One thing after another got on top of me and I ended up having a panic attack. This scared me as I haven't had one in literally years. Stephen was with me and was fantastic. It understandably freaked him out but he just held me and stroked my hair and told me everything would be okay.



After that I went to the doctor and was put on antidepressants. I guess the day would always come when I started taking them. I've been fighting them for so long thinking I could get through things on my own but I've admitted that I can't. I don't think I'll be on them forever and the doctor agrees. I just need something, right now, to help me get back to being the 'old me'.



I have been staring at this screen for a few minutes now, deciding whether or not to delete that last paragraph. I know that not too many people read my blog, its more my own personal way of getting everything out but what if someone did read it? Someone I wouldn't normally open up to. Would they think less of me because I suffer from depression? Would this title of 'mental illness' change the way they react to me? I actually resisted going on antidepressants for a similar reason. Not because I have any hang ups about mental illness or depression, it's something I have grown very used to over the years. My main worry was that my parents would blame themselves. That this was genetic and it was their fault I'm now suffering. I don't blame them and they have been absolutely fantastic in supporting me and helping me through this.



I was also worried about what if other people found out but actually it has come up on conversation with a few people and it's amazing how many other people have been through something similar to me. I know I have a lot of friends around me who are there to support me if I need it.



I won't talk about work because that's another two page rant that I can keep for another time.

And then there is Stephen. I honestly do not know what I would have done without him these past few weeks. I don't think I would have coped. I don't think I could have even made it out of bed some days. He's been my port in this storm. I don't think he understands what I'm going through, he's not had any previous experience with it the way my family have, but he doesn't need to. He's there and he instinctively knows what to do and what to say. He holds me so tight I don't feel like anyone else can get to me or hurt me. He is silly and makes me laugh when I need it but also knows when not to say anything, when to just let me cry.



I don't know why he puts up with it. I've given him a get out clause several times and told him I don't expect him to stay with me. Who wants a mentally ill girlfriend? But he just tells me to shut up, puts his arm around me and bites my nose to make me giggle.

So, as I lay in bed (wireless Internet is honestly a fantastic invention!), waiting for my wonderful man to come back from mass, I'm thinking about the future. The present might be a bit tough for the moment but I have a feeling things will turn out okay in the long run. I just need to get through 'now'