Firstly, as always, thank you for reading this post. Somehow I have managed to write five posts since April each receiving amazing responses so thank you for being a part of that also.
This post is an expression of emotion that I have hidden for a while now. A story of disappointment, misunderstanding and emptiness. This is the story of why I suffer with Depression.
I have never fully expressed my emotions towards my experiences with anybody else, however I now believe that in order to move forwards; I have to and am happy to let things go. I have been a slave to my past, I have let others down because of how my past has effected me and I have suffered at the hands of situations that I had no control over. I am not going to detail events, names and places, because that would take far too long for me to project onto this screen. However, I’d like to share my emotions with you.
I see myself as a Dreamer, overly ambitious with standards that I struggle to meet. I choose to ignore the things I don’t like until they catch up with me themselves. I believe that God exists in the mind in which ever way you want it to yet struggle to tolerate deluded Religious followers or Atheists alike. I believe that I have the answers to my own issues but I cannot always see them. I believe in altruism and I believe that love is the key to life however I feel let down when people do not see this in me. I am strong minded and full blooded and I do not like to be alone however, I create safe places for myself where I can be alone when I feel like other people are negative. I avoid negative people, places and sources and become reclusive in situations that I cannot control. I am a perfectionist, I cannot tolerate a lot of people, and I spend more time feeling nothing then I do happiness or sadness. The episode in my life which you are about the read, is one of the five main factors to all of the things I have just stated. These statements are negative to me, because I cannot change them, yet they are the issues which my head loves to think about. These beliefs are a rigid back to my thoughts, and actually cause a lot of harm to me. A lot of people who are experiencing or have experienced a mental illness will relate to those statements and completely understand the paradox in which they find themselves to be. So sure of what you think and believe, yet so lost in where to go, who to be or what to do. We are suffering from a Dreamer’s Disease.
At the age of Thirteen, I felt that I was untouchable. It was a fairy-tale life in many ways, the family enclosure that I lived within provided me with more than a fair share of luxury. Alongside the fact that I had some of the best opportunities available to a person of that age, it is fair to say that life was unbelievably good. The reason I say unbelievably good, is because it inevitably had to change. The empire in which my family became was to fall quicker than anybody could have ever imagined. The life of luxury was to crumble away, and spiral out of control.
I lived with my Mum, Dad and sister in an impressive home. I was always attached to the house from the day we moved in. I fondly remember the sun shone down on a happy family, about embrace on a new beginning in life together. The birds sang and a light breeze blew around softly. We unpacked our belongings and for a while, we lived the highest life possible. Of course, like every normal family, we did experience issues. Nothing that was ever too alarming, although that may have been because I was too busy soaking up the life of a young teen to notice if it was alarming or not. On a personal note, this atmosphere of course contributed to me feeling as untouchable as I felt, I always knew to keep my feet on the ground, however, could you really blame me for making the most of the life I had around me?
Things eventually started to rapidly decline, my parents made the decision to divorce, and essentially my mother left with my sister. I still lacked the self awareness to realise that this could and obviously would effect me, I believed I was so untouchable that even one of the worst nightmares for most kids, was not going to effect me; so I chose to ignore it.
Me and my Dad lived alone in our house for a few years more, he met somebody new, who then moved in. There was a certain degree of animosity that was ever present between me and her, also between my mother and my father still, and also me and my mother. I chose to ignore it.
Eventually, the untouchable Adam Dow was starting to falter. I started to lose the confidence that oozed from me before. I quit football and started to question myself. I realised that even though I had friends, perhaps people didn’t like me as much as I thought. Perhaps the untouchable Adam Dow was a figure of my imagination. Either way, I made a conscious decision to change who I was, for better or for worse.
Living with my Dad alone, meant a lot of time alone. He had to work to keep the house that I cherished so much. Which he did admirably. The time alone was something I quite enjoyed for the most part; I learnt how to look after myself domestically, the sense of independence at a young age was something that I thrived upon, and although it may not have been the most ideal situation, the fact I had my bedroom, in my home, was enough to keep my content and happy. It was far from the sunny scenes of the day I moved in, but I was still happy.
The personal issues that lay between my Mum and Dad became sour, and to circumvent a longer story, my home was sold beyond our wishes by Mum. The only thing I truly loved, the only place I felt safe, was gone. The day we moved out, the sky was dull and the rain poured down. A feeling I can never evoke from somebody is the feeling of looking back at your own heart and soul as something that is inaccessible to you. Walking down the drive in the pouring rain, to turn and see everything you ever loved, the foundation of every happy memory you can well recall, the safety and security, the pride and joy, the heart and the soul, the home. Gone.
I found out the in the hardest fashion that selfishness overcomes people, spite overcomes people, and hatred becomes vengeance.
I was not the only one to suffer from the demise of my family because naturally it took its toll on all of us. I can accept that my parents had differences which were clearly irreconcilable. I can accept that my Dad wanted to move on, I can accept that my Mum wanted a new life. But I cannot and will not accept that any of these reasons justify the selfishness that was showed. I will not let anybody tell me that this is “just what happens”. I was left physically and metaphorically taking down the walls of my life in tears, praying to a God that one day I could get it all back.
I never knew it was possible to miss a place, but it is true that home is where the heart is. I lost my home, and I lost my heart. At the same time as choosing to change my personality, change my friends and letting go of my opportunities.
Through all of those years, I chose to ignore what it could do to me. Only when I got away from everyone who surrounded me, could I no longer ignore it. There are many other reasons that contribute to my mental deficiency, but how can I ignore the fact that my heart and soul is not within me completely.
I have tried to replace this loss through music, money, God, and girls. But I cannot replace it, I have to let it be. There is a lot of my past which I like to embrace as the events which have shaped the strands in my personality which I enjoy, however this particular episode is one which I can finally close the book on, as the worst chapter I could have ever read. I can wish it was different every single day, and I can drive by it as much as I like, but I think that it’s best to choose to ignore it.