Unrequited, pt.2

Having to force myself out of bed every morning to walk up to the dairy to get my usual sugar-free red bull and cigarettes, which now have been labelled as two things that remind me of depression when they touch my lips so I’ve been sworn off both. Not to mention the struggle of heading to uni and then catching the train to work afterward. Don’t get me wrong what I studied was intriguing – Politics and International Relations – and where I worked – Mexico Ellerslie – I had a great bunch of workmates. But with depression; the pastel colours, the things that you’d think are positives in your life, so easily turn to monochrome in every way.

It wasn’t long after I got out of my long-term relationship that I would end up back in another with my best friend of 6 years. We sang in a band together and we were basically the guy/girl opposites of each other. We were doing the whole long distance thing – seeing as he lived in Tauranga and I in Auckland, we would make an effort to see each other every weekend or every second weekend. It was a beautiful disaster. We were both battling with things in our life so we couldn’t give to each other what we so desperately craved; a healthy relationship and one where both halves were initially whole. Long story short and I also don’t feel as though it’s my whole story to tell, it didn’t work out and after that I had a mental breakdown and my brother had to come up from Hamilton and drive me back to my hometown, not knowing that my journey, my life in which I’ve known in Auckland, was to be cut short.

I quit my study, I quit my job, I quit my house – the beautiful refurbished villa in which I’d lived, and I left my flatmates and friends. I felt like a failure, like a massive piece of shit. I felt defeated, weak. Like leaving everything behind and having to move back home was a giant step backward. In that moment I was beating myself up, speaking lies over myself, only thinking neggy-Nancy thoughts. It went on for quite some time before I finally began to realise that moving back home, back in with my mum, going on the sickness benefit and taking a break out from everything, actually saved my life. To be honest, if I had of stayed up in Auckland, who knows what would have happened to me. I was already drowning in my sorrows, becoming too dependent on my flatmates that they basically had to unfriend me. Maybe even taking more sleeping pills than I should have. And believe me – I did end up in hospital one morning because of this.

Coming home, it saved me. It wasn’t a step backward, it was a step forward – to better myself, to take some time out to do me and to practice self-care. So many people told me when I moved back that it showed strength and courage and I didn’t wanna listen to their BS, because at the time, that’s all I thought it was. But now I believe them, with every fibre of my being. It showed strength to give up all that I had, to start a new chapter and to still be here, fighting anxiety and depression but coming out on the other side so much stronger.

Have you had a time in your life where you’ve basically had to give up everything you knew and start again from scratch? Thoughts of failure, weakness and self-pity. Three words, you’re not alone. It somehow gets better, even if the first few months feel like an eternity in hell, there will be greener pastures in the midst, you just have to hold out for them.

Read Unrequited, pt.1 here!

Shannon is a 27 year old girl boss in social media consultancy. Writing is her muse; blogging, poetry and song lyrics. Alongside that, she likes to dabble in crafts, going on adventures w friends and loving on all of the animals.