Could you tell me a time you felt lost?

I have always struggled with my mental health. I don’t know when the words depression and anxiety started to resonate with me, but I always recognised a sadness, a kind of darkness, that lay within me and at times gripped me harder than others. I have had hard years and happy years, bad years and good years. Sometimes, it lies so quietly, I almost forget about it. At other times, it is something I fight every morning, just to get out of bed. This seems to be the easiest way to tell if I am doing well or not: if I can or cannot get out of bed. This is the simplest tell-tale sign, the most grounded in reality. The rest of it can get hard to explain. 

When the darkness is winning, it feels like an abstraction. The world around me, my emotions, my own identity, shift into kaleidoscope patterns. My thoughts and actions are no longer anchored to this world, but exist in an abstract, chaotic space through which I seem to be floating. I grasp at strands and safety lines: my family and friends, routines, or simply my bed. Meanwhile, my very identity and ability to make sense of the world seems to have been thrown off balance, jeopardised by my own mind. It becomes harder and harder to know who you are without your illness. 

A few years ago, I had a very bad year. It happened and I lived through it. With time, patience, therapy and a lot of (self) love, I got back in touch with reality, with myself and managed to create a life I was happy with. I worked hard, celebrated the little things more and, slowly, the little things added up. I became full, happy, strong. I was doing the best I had in my entire life. I had fought for my happiness, for the life I wanted to live, for my friends and family. I am proud of myself for that. I still am.

Obviously the path to recovery is never smooth and I still get low, but these days my lows aren’t so low anymore. I take a moment (a day or a couple of days if needed) to look after myself and gently pick myself up again. Normally, this works and I will be back on my feet. However, last autumn, I lost my way again. I couldn’t seem to get back on my feet. A couple of events or situations tripped me up in quick succession. I fell the lowest I had been in years. Yes, relapse and bad days are always going to be a part of recovery. But this is truer than I’d ever thought. The words people say and all their reassurances of ‘this will pass’ fade away. I felt like I had failed. Like all the progress I’d made, all the work I had put in, the mountains I had climbed – it had all been for nothing. I kept asking myself: am I back where I started? Do I have to win this fight all over again? The weight of these questions dragged me further down into the darkness. 

In a way, yes, it was a fight that I had to win again. A fight I will probably have to continue to win over and over. Except this time, I had the right tools. I asked for help. From my university, from my friends. I recognised my own limitations and put my recovery first. Most of all, I kept going and telling myself if I could do it before, I damn well could do it now. While part of me dragged every step of the way, deep down I knew I could get through it. I was just a little lost and I would find the path again. A year later and I am doing better. Still healing, but much better. The most important lesson I learned was that recovery is not a road that has been paved ahead of you. Every person will have different bends and turns to navigate. You must make your own path and occasionally you will get lost in the woods.

I know that I am stronger than the darkness I live with and each time I beat it down, it gets a little smaller, a little less scary and a little more manageable. I believe in myself a little more and the power it holds over me lessens. All I want to do is to put one foot in front of the other. I hope that one day I turn around and realise the darkness has faded into the past. This piece is a small testament to that recovery: it takes time and it is ok to lose yourself along the way. Just remember, you will find your way back.