The days are shorter, the light dims at an early hour and it’s cold. I guess you can interpret this in two ways. You can translate this as the time to be jolly and put on all the candles. Get your christmas mood on and shake your hips to the tunes of Christmas songs of past. I guess that is a very positive mindset and feeling, I think it’s something I would like to strive for. But at this point, this is not a view, perception or scenario I could imagine. Why? Because depression is a cunt.
I promise you, later on it will be clear what this football picture has to do with fighting in the trenches and mental health. Yes, indeed. A mental health post with blogmas. I guess I will lose some readers now, because a lot of blogmas posts are about the whole christmas festive mood. But sometimes it’s hard for us mental health sufferers and December is no exception. In fact, it can be harder for us. For me it is.
December is a difficult month for me. With the expectation to be jolly and nice, the stigma surrounding mental health grows. People expect you to be happy, cheerful and ‘cosy’. This only makes it more difficult more sufferers. There’s this enormous pressure to fit in this cheerful mode, but if you are suffering from a mental illness, this can make it only worse. I feel so much pressure, it’s unreal. Everyone wants to do stuff and more than ever, mental illness is diminished to nothing. Leaving me frustrated, angry and above all, very very sad.
‘But come on man, it’s December!! It’s Christmas mannn!’ – Oh well, if that’s the case. Let me turn off depression for a month or so. It doesn’t work like that. Depression a vicious cunt and sometimes it’s like a sort of Dementor to be honest. It sucks all goodness and happiness out of you & we all know, December has a lot of that happiness. So yeah, it’s fucking hard right now.
My brain is a warzone. A battlefield. It’s not a difficult situation at times, sometimes it is. But right now I’m stuck. It’s the First World War and I’m fighting in the trenches. Every time I think I’ve won a few inches, I get thrown back and a gas attack is on my way. It is so intense, little progression and it’s a surprise every day what I will be feeling like. It’s so exhausting, draining and it ruins me. It kills me from the inside to not know where I am, where I am going and how far I am. The tears are the only language I know to speak when all this misery comes along.
The picture above is taken on the ‘Christmas Truce’ in December 1914. German and French soldiers agreed to put down their weapons for Christmas and play a football match against each other. I know depression will not leave me alone, but I like the idea of ‘Christmas Truce’.
In the famous words of Churchill: Keep buggering on people, Keep buggering on.