I have MDD. Major Depressive Disorder. I prefer this term because I think something that is part of my life since I was 14 is major for me. I was without a diagnosis for 16 years. It was difficult. I had multiple suicide attempts and I was sure I will never be happy. Or just simply feel something. But It was not the end. Just a semicolon. I moved to the UK when I was 27. I did not speak the language. I was constantly bullied and mocked by my younger co-workers, and many times I was harassed by customers because I’m a foreigner. That was the time when I started to go to the gym and doing weight lifting exercises. I was able to feel in charge of my life. Can’t control what other people say, or do, but you can control your actions.
But the long winter was not merciful on my mental health. I struggled more than ever, but before my 30th birthday, I finally got a diagnosis and I started to take medication.
I started to meditate regularly, still exercising, and with that, I felt like my long struggle with body image issues are finally started to be better. I was not skinny, I never been, but I felt strong. Beginning of 2020, my problems with my shoulder (my first UK job was in Subway, and as funny as it sounds the constant use of the toastie machine, made long-lasting negative effects on my right shoulder) went really bad. I was unable to exercise, I can’t touch any weights, and even running was torture. I lost my strength and I lost my belief in myself.
But somewhere at the end of the year, I finally started my recovery. Physiotherapy, yoga, stretching, more walks with my dog. My stamina is nowhere near compared to what it was, and I know I have to walk a long road for my physical health. But from the fight with my mental health, it is possible. I know that everything is going to be fine, with a little help it is possible because this is not the end. Just a semicolon.