#outofthewoods - understanding depression and anxiety

8/16/2019 #OutOfTheWoods - Understanding Depression and Anxiety

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Out Woods

of the

UNDERSTANDING DEPRESSION

AND ANXIETY

INES VEIGA PENAby


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COVER PHOTOGRAPHY Athena Thoma

GRAPHIC DESIGN Ines Veiga Pena


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INTRODUCTION

DISCLAIMER

ANONYMITY

PARTICIPANT PHOTOGRAPHS

AND TEXT

ASKING FOR HELP

Contacts


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Disclaimer All photographs, images and other visual materialscontained and used within this book were willinglyprovided by the participants, along with the consent toprint and distribute this book.

Any use of these materials outside of this book and

promotional materials for the same is strictly forbiddenwithout the explicit consent of the individual participantwho created the image.

All text in this book, excluding that written by theauthor (“Introduction”, “Disclaimer”, “Anonymity”,“Helpful Materials”) is also exclusive property of theparticipants and reproduction beyond the scope of thisbook and its promotional materials is forbidden withoutconsent of the individual participant.

All text has been reproduced in this book verbatim,

with a minimum correction of spelling mistakes, fromthe materials provided by participants.

Each quote relates to the image it is placed next to.

All participants were provided with helpful materials tohelp manage anxiety and depression at the beginning ofthis project.


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Anonymity Due to the sensitive nature of this project and that ofsome of the information provided by participants, theoption of anonymity was given in order to protect theirphysical and mental safety.

The author will not reveal the identities of participantswho have chosen to stay anonymous unless it isspeci cally requested by the participant.

This does not change the participant’s right of copyrightover the images and text provided. Reproduction ofphotographs, images and text provided by anonymousparticipants is strictly forbidden without explicit consentobtained from the participant.


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Diana When I was 12 years old I had no friends. I wasthis peculiar, overly polite girl who knew little of theworld when I moved to a new school. I was very shyand for some reason people started judging that becauseof being shy, I was just a nerd, so I started to get pickedon, mainly by boys although girls were just as cruel. Ifell in love with a boy from my class who happened tobe my best friend (the only one I considered a friendsince no one talked to me except to make fun or hitme) and when he declared himself to me i was beyond

joyful with it, it was like in my favorite romances thescene itself I always imagined. This lasted for two years. I was raped by him. I loved him and I cried everytime I came home,I’d wash myself until I could feel a bit cleaner on theinside but it was to no avail. My life was depressing, Iwas invisible in my home to both of my parents who hadproblems with my older brother, at school I kept ndingways of running away from it but there was always him.As an adult I know better than to allow someone to do

this kind of damage but when i was a child all I wantedwas to be loved and what I received was depression...When things started to become unbearable I’d lockmyself inside my room and lie on the oor staring to mywrist and that’s when I started harming myself, I didn’tcare, I couldn’t care since no one else did.

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I’m trapped and I can’t get out,that, is the rst thought that i havewhen i have an episode of anxiety. Istare through the window and i seemyself caged and I panic: I can’t runaway from here, i can’t do anythingwhile I watch my world crumbleapart. The bars are there, keepingme in and you window are teasingme with your outside world whileI just dream of the day you nallyopen and i am free of you.

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JESSICA

Who needs a social life,anyway?“ ”


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This used to be myfavourite thing to do. Now

they feel like a chore.“”


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Unreasonable precautionsare a part of life.“ ”


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I don’t know what they’reall for, but the hell am I

throwing them out.“

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Making mountainsout of mole hills

since 1995.“ ”


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LeahWhat I’ve learned so far. tomorrowI turn 26, tomorrow marks about 13years of depression and anxiety. 13years I have spent struggling with

depression and anxiety. 13 years oflearning how to manage my mentalhealth, how to seek help when I needit and most importantly how to talkabout my experiences. 13 years and

this is what I’ve learned so far.

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Depression and anxiety have lived in my mindfor so long I don’t know myself without them.depression is like a current in my life it comesand it goes it crashes around me like waves,then recedes and sometimes it leaves me feelingempty, and other times it leaves me hopeful,look

how the world feels new after a rainstorm.anxiety is another thing it is a frustrating thingto live with anxiety to know that these thingsthat I fear in these things that cause me to panicaren’t always things to be afraid of. my anxietytells me everyday that everyone hates me, that iam worthless. Anxiety tells me that the peopleI surround myself with don’t really care aboutme but they hate me but they think I’m lame andstupid and ugly my anxiety tells me that peopleare judging me every single second of everysingle day. I realize when I think about it thatthese are stupid things I realize that people haveenough of their own issues that they probablydon’t care about me. anxiety makes me afraidof simple things silly things things that I feellike if I didn’t have anxiety I wouldn’t have fearof. it’s not all bad though and it’s not all dark. Irealized too over these past 13 years how strongmy mind is how even though I struggle I still

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manage to stay alive I have learned to calm myself

down from panic attacks and how to manage myanxiety in healthy ways. My mental health is as mucha part of me as the colour of my eyes, it’s part of whoI am but it doesn’t own me, its not the entirety of who

I am.


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The clock, for me part of my struggles havebeen with sleep issues, I either sleep too much

or not at all. I lay in bed and watch the clock andpray for sleep, sometimes when sleep comes allI have is bad dreams, I wake up sweaty with myheart pounding and a scream in my throat. Theclock still ticks silently on. My anxiety keepsme from getting back to sleep because I havepanic attacks thinking about my nightmares.Some nights sleep eludes me and the clock is my

enemy.

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Learning to love my body, in my struggle to getbetter. One of the constant struggles in my lifehas been learning to love my body to appreciateits strength and beauty. Somedays I wake up andI love my body i love my softness, I love mycurves, my smile, my eyes, my butt. Other days

I wake up and my body hurts, and my skin feelsraw and wrong. I wake up and it feels like I dontbelong in my body and I want to tear chunks of

esh from my face and my arms and my stomach.Sometimes I wake up and I want to be the girlin the magazine, the girl on instagram, I wantto be skinny and desirable and beautiful. Otherdays I wake up and I look at myself and I think Iam beautiful, I am desirable, I have an amazingbody a strong body a body that can do amazingthings. Learning how to love my body isn’t easy,I don’t know if it will ever be easy, I take it day

to day, I cherish the days I love my body & try torecall them on the days I dont’t.

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I think my proudest accomplishment over the past13 years has been recovering from my self-harm.I used to cut myself, on my arms, on my legs. Iwould punch myself in the stomach on my arms,anywhere that I could hide the signs. For me, Selfharm was about release and control. Before I hurtmyself it would feel like something was buildingup under my skin, something wrong and hot and

itchy and I would need to hurt myself to releaseit. I felt like I was losing control of myself, I feltlike I lived in some dark hole in my body andself harm brought me back into my body. At 18I stopped self-harming, I realized that self harmwas like an addiction, it was a way to relieve myanxiety without addressing it properly. I relapsedonce at 21 and haven’t harmed since, I have nohurt myself in 5 years. It doesn’t seem like along time but I am insanely proud of myself. Ihave learned how to cope, I have learned how toidentify the feeling I get when I need to self harmand I channel it elsewhere. I have learned to takea deep breath, to read a book, to make a cup oftea, to take my dog for a walk. Most importantlyI let myself cry, I let myself feel pain instead ofsuppressing it until it becomes something toxic.Overcoming self-harm is one of the things I ammost proud of and I hope that I can continue to

manage my urges in healthy ways.

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ANONYMOUS.1

My dad had to change his religion to marry mymother and this made me a Muslim. My country’srule. I remembered that I have my panic attacksevery time I entered my Islamic studies class.It is funny and yet depressive because I can’tshake the feeling of their people judging me fornot being Muslim enough. The other part is thatthe Chinese sees me as someone that will taketheir sons away if they ended up marrying me.Both side don’t want me to be around. I am notgood enough for any of them. So what do I do?Triggers are everywhere in my country. All I

can do is to hide and run when I encounter theissue. And keep my mouth shut about my trueidentity.

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” Who am I


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Am I good Enough?

I am never good enough for my boyfriend

/ husband because I am impure. I am nevergood enough for my parents because I amnot religious. I am never good enough for my

job because I am not talented. I am not goodenough for others because I am bad at being agood person. I am not good enough for myselfbecause I am so afraid about little things that Iknow I shouldn’t be. I know I can be that 100%of a proper human but there will always be areason not to be. I am so scared of not being

perfect.

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7 days a week. Constantly on theedge. One trigger. No matter howsmall the trigger is, my day will

not be the same till I get my timeneeded to calm myself down.

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This Is Me


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ANONYMOUS.2

I can see myself wreckingand ruining. But I can’t

stop myself.“

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Touch everything withprecaution and fear.“ ”


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Surround yourself withpeople who get it.“ ”


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Aged skin damage causedby pain and fear of death.

Caution: It’ll kill youslowly, anyway.

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Your fears and doubts insome garbage can.“ ”


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ANONYMOUS.3

Clouds are really fascinatingbecause, scienti cally talking,

they’re just visible masses of waterand crystals in the sky, but they look

like something else. My thoughtsare just like clouds - they look like

something else.

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I love the way light enters in theroom every morning. It is always

different - and the window ismuch more than an obstacle, it is

something that helps light to createshapes and gures. Happiness is just

like a ray of light in a dark room.

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When I’m down I prefer to walk,but I’d rather take a silent path inthe countryside than a crowded

street in the city. Walking is a way

to calm down, to meditate and toreappraise reality.

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One of the most delicate owers inthe world. Roses are so beautiful

and they die so fast, too. I associatethem to my childhood - my aunt had

a wonderful collection of roses. Iremember them as something veryprecious but that only a few people

could understand. There are twokinds of men - those who love rosesand those who think it’s just a waste

of time.

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The Bible describes the sea as anevil force, and it is probably whyI’m so fascinated by it. The mostprofound part of it is unknown, itis so beautiful and so dangerous atthe same time. I could stare at it for

hours.

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ATHENA

Some days are just hard to wake up and facereality. You just want to sleep forever, not tofeel any pain or negative feelings. Sometimesyou just force yourself to sleep, hoping thatwhen you wake up you are going to feel muchbetter. Being heart-broken is not easy. I thinkis the worst kind of pain. And it happens againand again. It is a vicious cycle, the same kind ofcycle with the one I was into when I was bingeeating and then I would lock myself in my room

and cry my eyes out.

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You lock yourself in the room, you want toisolate yourself, stay alone, but you know this is adeadly recipe; It is going to make you feel worse.Sometimes it is good to socialise, surroundyourself with people so you can feel better, butoften it simply feels impossible to get up frombed and go outside. It is simply impossible to

make yourself feel better sometimes.

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So, you just stare at the ceiling,waiting for it to wake up, get aliveand give you some answers. Why

am I feeling like that? What shouldI do? Why do I even exist? I am

not worth it; I am such a weirdo. Atthe end, I am more frustrated with

myself that I did not do anything toescape from my sadness. Thinking,

thinking too much. Overthinking(about my life, my future) whilestaring at the ceiling makes meeven more depressed, but this iswhat I know to do best; Feel bad

about myself with overthinking. SoI swallow the pills, same shape as

the lamp above me. Everything isabove me now, and I am just beloweverything, I feel so weak, unable totake control of things and feelings...

so I swallow the pills.

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A piece of light from the windowgives me some hope. I am trying toabsorb power and strength from thehigher, from outside, because I amtoo inside in myself. I need to get

outside, but my body does not wantto. Being in my room, thinking,

is my comfort zone. It is bad, butcomfortable. Looking outside makesme feel hopeful for a moment, yet

fearful that any positive feelingI might get again, can turn into

negative at any time.

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Seeing myself in the mirror with red eyes is amiserable image. But at least, I cry. In a way, Iexpress my feelings, and at the moment I amfeeling sad. Why should I hide it? Life is soboring sometimes, so repetitive and this is whatmakes me think! What is the purpose of life, If I

just live to survive? Crying again. A sad imagein the mirror. Eyes soaking wet, lost in thoughtsand pain. I am sad without him, is it going to

get better?

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REBECCA

Note to Self: You’re Going Blind Every day you wrestle with thatlittle voice in the back of your head.It speaks quietly, but with emphaticexclamations. You let everyone down,it says. You’re useless, it says. You’rea failure, it says. Every day you seeit less and less. Every day your ears

try to make up for the de cit of youreyes. It never stops whispering.

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Organization on the surface.

Neatly ordered books arrangedby subject and author. Bits andpieces accumulated through alife that feels eons longer thanit has been. You’re tired, butit never shows. Secondhandliterature is the bark overheartwood that no longer cares

to provide a foundation for thesurface. Things slip and pile up.There’s nothing left except rock

bottom.

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After moving in you realize yourdresser looks exactly like hersdid. Not the liquor, oh no, she

hid that very well. Just as youdo. But the fan, the ironwoodstatuette, the art print? You’remore like her than you will everadmit to yourself. The onlything holding you back fromfollowing in her footsteps isyour grief and overwhelming

regrets.

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TIFFANY


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depression piles up. it starts insideand spreads outward, grabbingonto more and more, pullingit in, leaving it a mess, leaving

everything a mess. depressiontakes the things that make youhappy and empties them intothe mess, leaving a shell, just areminder that you used to enjoysomething, and that shell sits therein the mess, reminding you whatyou’re missing, and you care anddon’t care at the same time. inthe end, you just sit in the mess,letting it expand around you, and

you don’t lift a nger.

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warm sheets and annelpants should be comforting,welcoming, relaxing, but theyaren’t when the sheet is fallingoff of the bed and you’ve worn

the annel pants for a weekwithout washing them, andyou can’t muster the energy ormotivation to take care of either

issue.

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depression is ve-day-oldmakeup failing to cover yoursunspots, mascara smudgedbeneath your eyes, unpluckedeyebrows, greasy hair tied back,the last remnants of foundationrubbing off onto a dirtypillowcase, and the completelack of ability to do somethingas simple as standing up andwalking to the bathroom to take

a shower.

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JACKIE

The strange thing about dealing withanxiety and depression is that objectively,you know others have these issues, andyet it’s still a mental illness that strivesto and often does make you feel as ifyou’re entirely alone with what you’reexperiencing. It can be incredibly isolating,and sometimes you just need a hand tohold - but when you feel so anxious thatit’s like you’re paralyzed, or so depressedthat you stop caring about anything atall, even yourself, there is always theknowledge that despite wanting anotherhand to hold, in the end sometimes youhave to hold your own hand. You have tolearn to live with yourself and your mentalillness, which is an incredibly dauntingtask and one I have to remind myself ofdaily, assuring myself that I can do this.

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When you have a mental illness (or several)and you’re on medication, people withoutmental illnesses assume that you’rebetter. Not just that you’ve reached somesort of base line or plateau, but that themedication xes everything. God, I wish itdid. I take quite a few medications, mostlyfor my mental illnesses, a couple othersfor medical conditions, and regardlesspeople always think I should be better.But I’m not. I don’t know if I’ll ever be.But the medications help, better than thewellness mantras of “it’s just chemicals.”My medications help me and my brainget to a place where I can think mostlyclearly and work toward coping with my

conditions. Sometimes, it’s tiring. Often,it’s expensive. But it helps. And that’s allI feel like I can ask for.

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I struggle, daily, with loving myself andseeing my own worth. My brain tellsme that I am disposable, second best,boring, uninteresting, easy to forget andleave behind. I’m not good enough. Mybrain tells me these things and worksto make my heart believe it, despite thelove and friendship I experience, theloyalty of those close to me, the actionsthey perform that so clearly show that Iam enough, despite what I tell myself inthe dark watches of the night. It seemsawful, but even with all of that my brainand disorders can make me think and feelthat even that love comes with conditions.When I am struggling particularly hard,one of the only things that can make mefeel comforted, like I am loved ercely

and joyfully, without regrets or agenda,

“is my dog. I’m sure a lot of peoplewould think it silly, but she helps, morethan anything. She loves me. She givesme kisses when I can’t breathe fromanxiety or when I’m crying because of

my depression and everything seems soawful. She lets me give her hugs, despiterecent studies saying that dogs don’t likegetting hugged. If I’m pacing, she’ll walkalong beside me. And such endless loveand devotion, so freely given withoutcondition, from a creature that can’t evenspeak (except when she wants treats) -well, it makes me feel like I can be goodenough. I use that as a nger hold to pullmyself up, and it means more than I can

say.

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Asking for Help

If after going through this book you feel like you might

be suffering from mental health problems, whether it isrecent or long-term, do not be afraid to ask for help.

The ADAA (Anxiety and Depression Association ofAmerica) and the NHS Mental Health database havea series of helpful links, phone numbers and guides tohelp you cope with the presence of mental illness inyour life.

Have a look at the NHS Mental Health Self-HelpTherapies if you do not feel ready to talk to your lovedones or your general practicioner about your situation,though it is strongly advised that you tell your doctor assoon as possible.

If you feel like this book has served as a trigger in anyway, do not hesitate to contact an emergency hotline.They are everywhere, regardless of what country youare from, and they are usually open until very late atnight, some 24/7. It is their job to listen to you and tohelp you. Do not let shame or guilt deterr you.

Anxiety and depression are monsters that are becomingincreasingly common on the fast-paced 21st century,especially since the economic crisis that sprouted in2008.

You are not alone.

You are not beyond help.

You are deserving of love and respect.

Remember that these are monsters inside your headand not your own rationale. It is not your fault. Andremember, always, that you become stronger everysecond you survive these beats inside your head.

Ask for help.

If you know someone who might be suffering fromanxiety or depression, do not pressure them. Show themyour love and support, as they are carrying with them ashadow that is inconceivably heavy.

We are stronger, we will carry on, and we will be happy.


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ContactsIf you would like to contact the author with concerns orqueries about this project or its possible continuation,please e-mail at:

[email protected]


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#outofthewoods - understanding depression and anxiety

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