Sue Bailey

When doctors told Marie Seward that her period mood swings and depression were extreme she felt both relieved and angry.

You should go read that article on the BBC before you read my half-assed observations below. Mrs Seward says a lot of things that make a lot of sense, but the one sentence that really gave me goosebumps is this one:

“You think it is normal,” she said.

This is the problem. If you have depression, or out of control PMS, or SAD, or whatever your particular brand of crazy might be, you have, by definition, lost sight of what normal is. I don’t know anymore, whether I’m ill, or whether this is just what I am, or whether every single other person feels like this too. I want to believe it’s something abnormal, something I’ve got, not something I am: but that’s almost worse, because if that’s true, then I have no idea how to get or even ask for help.

Is it normal to sit crying over a single sock, miserable to the absolute depth of your soul about how alone it is, until you realise that at least that sock’s in the drawer, and somewhere, out there in the dark, is the *other* sock, lost? Having to flip channels every time an advert for pet food comes on which plays on your heartstrings for the sake of some wretched animal shelter charity? Getting out of bed at 6am to cancel ferry tickets because you can’t believe even a four month old child can bear to see you when you can’t bear to see yourself? Is it normal, standing two or three times a day, staring at the rack of knives in your kitchen, knowing that if you just carved a little flesh from your arms or thighs, everything would be better, or thinking that if you hadn’t given up smoking, you could have kept burning yourself? How about taking pills as catharsis? How about the absolute, unutterable shame of writing it on your blog because if you don’t say it somewhere, your head is going to explode?

How is anyone supposed to know?

This entry was posted on Sunday, January 4th, 2009 at 7:14 pm and is filed under mental.