Dear Nobody,
Living with The Black Dog (Winston Churchill's name for his own depressive disorder) is a situation that at times can surely only be described as a curse. For me, I see it as a Dark Prince - a ruling demon that controls my life and tortures me at will, bending reality and bringing me terror, hopelessness and unrelenting misery.
Having lived with it for nearly two decades you would think I would at least be use to it by now, but no matter how often I have to suffer at its hands it never hurts or frightens me any less, and it's all I can do not to give into its fatal will. I frankly count myself lucky I have survived this long - as a child never believed I would make it past 18.
I have been in its clutches on and off for a couple of weeks now, its latest unrelenting campaign of terror slowly sweeping over me over time until it builds into a devastating crescendo of pain. I was left feeling utterly isolated and alone, frightened by the thoughts an torturous misery it was inflicting upon me and frightened at what I might - and could - do to myself because of it. All you want to do is escape that wretched, indescribable pain buried inside your soul and somehow just make it stop.
In the past I've tried stopping it through self-inflicted pain, taking codeine painkillers, eating disorders, Prozac and all his brothers, and even attempted suicides. Nothing has helped but the big heart and unrelenting love of someone who has been utterly devoted and caring to me, who has still loved me no matter how far I fall, and has slowly started helping me Sellotape the fragmented pieces of my life back together over the past few years and still helps me to do so now.
She gives me hope every time the Dark Prince comes back to torment me, and reminds me that even though I may not be able to beat him, I certainly don't have to join him. She is my Princess of Brightness.
From
Me x
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