I'm not sure how to put this in words. I was diagnosed with clinical depression in 2021, and I've been struggling with it since then. Things were getting better until September 2022. I was severely injured due to a basketball injury, which needed surgery and put me on bed rest for two months. This was a massive blow as an athlete, and more so, as someone who used physical movement and exercise as a coping mechanism.
Additionally, literally being unable to move around much isn't exactly good for someone suffering from depression as is. I think this was when I reached my lowest. What hit me really hard was that I'd finally started feeling better before the injury. After a long time, I'd been looking forward to playing basketball, going out, or just enjoying things in general. So, the 'fall' felt a lot deeper. In addition, I missed out on college, and assignments and work kept piling up. By the time I joined back, I was still in recovery (I needed crutches + physiotherapy) and severely behind on my coursework. Plus, of course, since I'd gone back home for the previous two months, I felt isolated from all my friends in a different city.
All of this just added up. At the time, I was also missing my therapy sessions due to scheduling issues, which resulted in me missing out on medication. It was during these times that suicidal ideation became an escape for me. Thoughts of ways I could escape and wonder what I'd have to do became increasingly common. And this is what scared me.
I've always had thoughts of passive suicidal ideation (something I didn't know was a thing until now.) For example, thinking that if I were to get hit by a car, I wouldn't mind it, or "Why do people fight so hard to live? I'd just give up." But I'd never actively thought of what it would be like. Never actively thought of how much nicer it would be to end it. Not until this time. And that fear was perhaps what helped me out in a way. Because I knew this wasn't me, but knowing didn't stop me from feeling like that. But this fear was impossible.
It was this that made me actually think of what I wanted. I wanted an escape from my current situation, not from life. I'll be honest; this revelation didn't automatically heal me. Just because I could identify what was happening didn't mean I was out of that situation. Therapy and meds helped to a certain extent. But eventually, the thing that helped me was just going on. There were days when I didn't do anything except stay in bed, but the fact that I made it to the next day was big enough for me. I was (am) lucky enough to have friends and family who helped me as much as they could. A support system is essential.
However, from my experience, making it to the next day is what's most important. Because often, it really is some situation that people want to escape, and what helps is to remember that there's an end date for that. And you just have to hold on till then. The pressure of 'getting better' or 'seeking help' can sometimes make you feel worse. It did for me. So, yeah, this is what I'd like to share. Just hold on till the end date. Do whatever you have to do. Recognize why you feel so trapped that you only see one way out. And do it at your own pace. Nobody else gets to set this timeline for you.
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