"Clueless" Parents + Untreated Depression = An Unhappy Childhood and Substance Abuse
I am 31 now and have enjoyed many successes in life and
am now a happy wife and new mother, but this wasn't always the
case. I was a very depressed child from age 7 to 14 then I had a
couple of good years. The depression came back at around 16 and
lasted on and off until I finally got help for the first time when I
was 25. Since then, I have been in control of my depression and
anxiety and although I will always be prone to having episodes, I
have an extensive toolbelt of things that help me control it, mainly
CBT (ed. note: cognitive behavioral therapy).
The main symptoms for me as a child were chronic sadness
and severe guilt. I now know I have always been a very obsessive
thinker - I would re-enact painful or sad thoughts over and over
again until i would end up in a severe panic hopeless stupor, then I
would start again. I spent most of my time in my room with my tv
and my hopelessness. I had no friends; looking back now I must have
been an unlikable character, completely devoid of the ability to
have a good relationship with someone. My school results were
average to poor. I began drinking alcohol very regularly
(once/twice weekly) when I was 13, usually on my own. I left home
when I was 16, started taking drugs and lots more alcohol and became
very sexually promiscuous. I am lucky to be alive, considering the
situations I put myself in. I was a desperate, troubled soul who
had no idea that what I was experiencing wasn't "normal".
I spent the next 10 years in a similar state, but with
an unimaginable anger for everything and everyone. Still, I managed
to finish college and get a good job, I would never progress in my
career due to my bad attitude but I wouldn't know this for a good
few years down the line. I also would never be happy until I really
started asking myself some questions, but at this point I didn't
know that, either.
I had the worst experience of my life when I eventually
hit rock bottom, I was 25 and on drugs at the time. I wont go into
detail, but it was a life changing drama. I could no longer hide
from my feelings and my unhappiness, I could either curl up and die
or get help fast. I begged the doctor to admit me to a psychiatric
hospital, or sedate me so that I didn't have to feel what I was
feeling any more. I was absolutely teetering on the edge of sanity
and life. Anyway in summary, I got through it and life from that
moment on got better and better and now I feel so lucky because I
really know what happiness is and I can appreciate every second of
it.
I don't exactly know why I was depressed as a child, I
asked my sister and she says she had a happy childhood. I know
there is a family history of depression, anxiety and alcoholism. I
know that the age I started being depressed coincided with my family
moving from the outskirts to the town centre where I had no friends
and was no longer allowed to play outside. I know that my parents
left us to our own devices most of the time. I know that I was
very overweight and bullied at school. I know that I had no hobbies
or interest. I know that I was very unfit and never took part in
any exercise. But I still don't really know why???
My family never talks about emotions. This meant that I
learned to be a very secretive depressed child. Never did I utter a
word of how terrible life was for me to my parents. They still are
unaware to this day of the desperation and hopelessness I
suffered.
They aren't bad people, they were just very young
parents who were pretty clueless in what a child needed. This,
fused with the underlying principle that emotions NEVER got talked
about, resulted in a very empty existence for me. I must admit I am
confused and a little angry as to how come they didn't realize
something was wrong with me all those years. I have never asked
them.
I am blown away by some of the stories I have read on
this website, I am gobsmacked at the care and love some parents have
shown their kids. For me, I would have loved my parents just to have
asked me if I was sad, nevermind the lengths some of you all have
gone to to help your kids.
I once went to the doctors myself when I was around 12.
This took weeks of planning, intricate lies to get away on my own
for a few hours, storing of money so I could pay for the bus
myself. I walked in and was immediately in floods of tears. I
managed to get out that I was very, very sad and that I didn't know
why. The doctor told me to come back in two weeks if I still felt
the same. I knew when I walked out that I couldn't come back.
Just asking the question of your kids about how they are
feeling is a massive contribution to their happiness, and says
volumes about you as parents.
Sincerely,
Happy For Now