2018 – I had just returned back home from living In Berlin for a few months, gotten my first tattoos and tried to get into Bergheim during a private event and failed miserably. Before this I hadn’t had a break from work in probably three years, and I was running away from responsibilities and the stable life I had created for myself. I was trying to grow up and my restless mind would not let me be satisfied. Or rather – my fear of being satisfied kept me going.

Back in Sweden, now at my parents’ home, I noticed that my restless mind was unable to do the simplest tasks. My body was tired, yet my heart was constantly beating out of my chest. I started to hate myself and tears would come first thing in the morning and wouldn’t stop until I got my two to three hours of sleep. Even though I now acted like a different person, I still tried to continue as though nothing was out of the ordinary. Which didn’t work for very long. I started to drink after work and even remember being woken by a stranger in the middle of the street. I don’t remember how I ended up there. But that didn’t work for long – I crashed at work and I crashed hard. I used to be able to fake it for a few hours by crying during my five-minute bathroom breaks or by the dishwasher. But my body and mind hated or loved me too much for this to continue. I now found myself crying in front of my boss, the staff and even a costumer. I had to beg them to cover my shift so I could go home.

This was the start of me wanting help but not sure how. I was in and out of medical care trying to explain what was happening. I didn’t get the correct psychologic help until four months after my public breakdown. I had made changes in where I lived and how I lived my life, but I was still falling asleep on my kitchen floor in broad daylight because of my body hurting to much. Getting help understanding my feelings and the medicine I got subscribed got me back to being the energetic person I was known for. But the fear of falling back does still hover over me as soon I feel some kind of sadness. Even though I felt like normal again, did I feel an urge to start going back to a psychologist for 2020. When people asked why I just told them it was because of my insomnia. I didn’t want to worry people, like I’d done before. The insomnia wasn’t entirely a lie because once again I didn’t want to understand my real feelings, this would mean I had to realize how destructive my currant relationship was. Something my body was trying to tell me but without any answers from myself. Because of my experience with my family, I was in a sense used to depression and the way peoples personal misery change them into unrecognizable people. Still I wasn’t able to see my own misery slowly changing me.

2020 – the year of corona, breakups and setting boundaries for myself. No, it hasn’t been my best year and that seems to be the case for most of us. But as the new year is creeping closer by the minute, I can’t help but reflect on how I’ve handled it. Yes, I have fallen asleep on the floor a few times and yes, I’ve thrown up because of sadness. But worst of all I’ve worried my loved ones – just like I did in 2018. But that’s just for a short amount of time and feeling sadness is not as scary as it ones was. I feel that my former depression helped me through this year and taught me how to take better care of myself. I might never be able to completely lose my fear of relapsing but that might just be my saviour: to not fall as hard again, or better yet, be more kind to myself if I fall.