My name is Ella and I am clinically depressed.
Last night I was comparing being depressed with being in a Crystal Maze. The sort of maze made up of mirrors. Where you can see no way out and repeatedly hit dead-ends until your brain jumps to the conclusion that there is no way out (which is a fallacy in itself, because you entered the maze somehow, therefore the entry, if nothing else, can serve as an exit also, but your brain is too dysfunctional to process that).
I have been told by medics that my symptoms are 'textbook depression', which is in a way a relief, after all they are not naming my oh-so-strange condition after me (now wouldn't that be worrying), however very few people understand.
And yes, I am still fighting the shame and the stigma associated with mental illness. It is all part of being in the maze of mirrors, part of the hellish experience, seeing yourself from every angle, facing your most guarded fears. Being in the crystal maze makes you forget who the true you is, also. It is so tempting to smash all the reflections of you, including yourself, the true you. But that is another story.
They say there is a silver lining in everything, and all I can see as a positive at the moment, is the true friends, the real people who matter the most and for whom I matter the most.
If someone loves you and accepts you when going through something like this, they will do so for the rest of their lives. And that is a blessing, discovering the real souls who matter.
So, as I said - my name is Ella and I am clinically depressed. Welcome to my hell.