Everything Happens For A Reason

I firmly believe that everything happens for a reason. Everything that has happened in the past has somehow altered the future, depending on your religious beliefs you could say that your paths were set out long before you were created, or you could put it down to being in the wrong place at the wrong time or even a coincidence.
I don’t believe in coincidences anymore after everything that’s happen over the last two- three years. Somehow what happened at the time was very wrong, but now is very right because it created a better personal understanding of the world.

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After going through a severe life changing experience of having a simple stomach operation to almost dying, it hit hard. It was supposed to a minor exploratory procedure which turned into a nightmare. After the operation and trying to come round from the anaesthetic the surgeon came and explained exactly what they had found, a massive cyst on my ovary which had burst and was luckily caught before it spread and poisoned anything. At the time I was only fifteen and had been told such a huge thing. At the time I didn’t think about it, but during the recovery process It was the only thing I had thought about.
It wasn’t just the emotional effects of the operation that had caused my life suddenly to be turned upside down. I had taken a lot of time off school because I couldn’t face anyone, I locked myself in my room and lay under my duvet from the minute I got up until the minute I had gone to bed. It was a spiral that was unintentional and now, regrettable. Because I couldn’t face people at school including friends and I became further and further behind in everything including the subjects I actually wanted to do well in. Months later I was finally back at school and nobody suspected that anything was or ever could have been wrong.

After the first year of realizing that I had almost died I had completely withdrawn myself from anything and everything. I had somehow put up a brick wall saying that everything was alright, it got easier and easier to fake a smile and look as if you were interested in what was going on- In reality I had no interest. Nobody noticed a thing and it made it easier to hide everything away, I no longer had a genuine smile because there was a dark cloud constantly hovering over my head. Eventually I asked for help. It was hardest thing I had ever done in my life. Even when I told the teacher who I trusted the most what was going on inside my head, she didn’t ask me to tell my parents myself, she did it which sort of softened the blow of the harsh reality I had let someone into my personal thoughts. It came down to telling the two people who I should have been able to talk to, nothing. I couldn’t talk to them because I didn’t think they would understand, I knew they would probably be so mad at me for not telling them but at the same time “ How are you supposed to tell someone how you feel, when you don’t really know yourself”

I didn’t want to live anymore which counted in a few attempts of taking my own life- now I see it as an easy way out, something that is so selfish. Even when I tried to overdose on painkillers and alcohol there was a sudden surge of regret when the light headedness crept in I tried to stop it. Call it cowardliness or something else, but the thing I dreaded most was my seven/ eight year old sister finding me like that. I couldn’t do it her when she had so much to look forward to when I felt as If I had nothing. Eventually I convinced myself that going to the doctor was what was best, she already had a prognosis and told me that I have a severe case of depression and post traumatic stress from the operation. It was good to finally have a name for the things I had been feeling. She sent me to a clinic that had professionals who could help me, the thought of telling someone else was embarrassing and honestly I was ashamed. Ashamed of what I feeling and the things that had let me right to this point, I didn’t want to tell someone else that I had thought so many times of committing suicide that I had everything planned when my parents were out. Rope wouldn’t hold me, painkillers weren’t quick enough and the razors were removed from the house.
I felt like a nobody that had been stuck in a dark hole. It was bottomless and no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t pull myself up on the little lifelines that would appear, on a bad day I would want nothing better to do that punch someone’s lights out or to sit and just go to sleep and hope that I never wake up. I hated feeling like that and I wanted it to change. Things got so on top of me I started to drink heavily, my works night out was a complete disaster, one drink made me feel better and so fifths and sixths followed. By the end of the night, I couldn’t stand and couldn’t remember probably the important things I should have. When I started to sober up, I realised that alcohol dulls the pain for a short period of time, but doesn’t cure it.

Counselling helped but it wasn’t the main thing that helped me come to terms with the past. I had started going to spiritualist church out of curiosity, instead I got the answers to all my questions in ten minutes. The medium had brought my grandfather through, I never knew him but he validated everything he said and had also mentioned a few things that were going on my life that even my friends had no clue of. It helped me that even when I felt completely alone I wasn’t alone, that even a person I had never met was round about me and for some odd, crazy reason it did make a slight difference. I finally felt as if something positive was happening.

NOW

I’m not going to lie and say the depression is completely gone, because I don’t think it ever will be gone just brushed under the rug for a while. If I said sometimes on a bad day I’m completely fine and I don’t think about taking the easy way out, I’m a liar. Sometimes I do still feel like that and sometimes it’s hard to shake off, nobody knew about my illness until I was ready to tell the, now a few close friends know. I’ve started writing lyrics again that have changed so much, it’s not longer about the cliché punk ideology it’s more about situations in life that do happen but aren’t talked out- depression, suicidal- ness and the shame of it. It’s a very hard thing to admit to and it’s even harder taking that first step-asking for help but the road does become a lot smoother, you start to enjoy the things you had grown to hate and you finally feel as if your life is changing for the better.

As I said, I believe that everything happens for reason. The operation, the depression the aftermath has shaped everything and not in a bad way. By going through what I have, I’ve come to realize that you have to live every day as if it’s your last and that you have to go through certain things to have an experience or understanding. If it didn’t happen I would never have started writing the way I am, I would never have become a spiritualist medium in order to help people the same way I was. It’s crazy but it’s real, I never believed in it but I do. If the mess had never spilled out I would never have thought about doing depression management courses to become a certified counsellor- so maybe this was supposed to happen so I could do this all in order to help people, with music, bringing their loved ones and helping them realize that life’s too short and depression isn’t a music mainstream trend. It’s real.

Depression strikes every person at one point in their life. Some severer than others and sometimes the unlucky ones are the people who never got the chance to ask for help, depression isn’t something you should be ashamed of having because the experiences you have can help someone else.