Reflections from Rock Bottom.

I stumbled across my diary from when I first fell ill – written literally a few weeks into my illness. Usually all of my diaries are written in hand, but this is one of the rare ones which was typed, and I know exactly why; because I was too weak to hold a pencil when I wrote it, so I typed aggressively until my fingers went numb.
I wanted to share it with you for many reasons;
firstly, it is an insight to what a flare up of Depression is actually like;
secondly, it shows how far I have come with my Depression. I still suffer, but my recent spells have not been as violent as the one you are about to read;
Finally, I think it is also a good insight into how terrifying the initial uncertainty is of having what feels like an alien in your body and losing total control.

If you want raw and honest, then please read on.

TRIGGER WARNING: there is a lot of swearing, grammatical errors out of rage, and multiple references to suicide and self-harm.
It is NOT my intention to offend anyone, so if you are easily offended, don’t read on.
You have been warned!

“Here’s the thing;
I don’t want to be here anymore – it’s as simple as that.
People usually long for more money, better jobs, a perfect partner; but I long to feel nothing, be nothing.
I don’t want to feel guilt about falling in love with someone else whilst I am meant to be in a happy relationship with a partner who I thought I adored. I never wanted to be that girl who cheated. I usually judge people like that, and now people are judging me.
I don’t want to waste all of my savings on medical appointments that give me no answers, and to pay for drugs and supplements that either make me vomit, or explode diarrhoea.
I don’t want to feel another symptom which can’t be medically explained.
Try explaining dizziness to a Doctor; they think you are nuts. How can I explain something that I don’t even understand myself?
I don’t want to live each day stuck in this fucking house, having to do the same fucking routine.
I wake, and I wish I didn’t wake.
I stumble out of bed, make a coffee and toast that I always fucking forget to take out, so I really eat charcoal. I turn on the television and sit there for hours glued to the screen, but not absorbing a word of information. My brain does not work. I cannot access it anymore.
I know that makes no sense, but it is like someone has locked me out of my account. I know the account is mine, but I cannot get the password right.
I crawl to my room like a helpless animal, and lie on my bed for hours because I feel every inch of my body throbbing. EVERY INCH.
Everyone keeps telling me to eat, and I can’t.
They keep screaming at me. Helpless screaming.
But no, I just sit there in silence and stare blankly at my food.
I don’t want to try anymore. The pain is unbearable. I feel like my stomach acid has shards of glass in it, and my stomach will not stop gurgling. It sounds sick. It IS sick.
My Doctor keeps telling me this is a viral infection. What fucking viral infection leaves you bedridden for weeks at end?
I have lost so much weight. I hate looking at myself. My skin is pale, and flaky. My hair is falling out. I am twenty-two and my hair is fucking falling out.
I have not eaten a meal in days. I don’t even miss food. I don’t remember what it is like to feel hungry. Can you tell me how someone can feel acid rising, and suffer from neverending nausea if they have nothing in their stomach? I want to vomit every second of the day. People try and feed me things to stop the nausea; it makes me feel more nauseous. TRY THE FODMAP DIET, they say, YOU HAVE TO TRY THE FODMAP DIET. Fuck the FODMAP Diet. That’s clearly not my problem if I am unable to stomach ANYTHING.
I have lost weight, and not one or two kilograms. I am 36kg now. I used to be 44, maybe 45.
I have a xylophone for a fucking rib cage and scales for skin.
And my fucking hair is falling out.

Mum comes home from work really late now, and I have to fake my happiness. I have to hold myself together, for her. She knows that I am sick. She doesn’t look at me the same anymore. I think that she thinks that I am ugly. That’s the stare she gives me. I see her staring at me when I bend over and she is in frontal view of my spine.
Well, I am ugly. I look like a fucking troll, with eyes bulging out of my head, skin and bones, fucking scales for skin and my once beautiful hair falling out.
They eat dinner in silence every single night, and I sit at the table because I have to. I watch them eat every bite. They used to push me to eat something, but recently they have stopped.
I force myself to help her clean, until I can’t take another step. My legs won’t carry the weight of my body any longer. I fear I will just drop one day, and I wonder if it will hurt. I’ll most likely hurt myself once I hit the ground.
I go to my bedroom and slice my skin, and I am so consumed by symptoms, that I don’t even feel the blade cut into me. How twisted is that? But I crave my old feeling. I need to have control of something. I don’t control my body anymore.
I am the last to go to sleep, probably because I DON’T FUCKING SLEEP ANYMORE. How does someone sleep when they are in excruciating pain from every region in their body, and they want to vomit? I close my eyes and do the stupid deep breathing techniques that the last Specialist recommended I try. He told me that I need to relax more. I really love how nobody takes me seriously.
Yeah, I’m fucking Depressed. Would you be Depressed if you were plagued with an unknown disease, making you incapable of showering alone and walking, feeling nauseous every second, unemployed, unable to drive or eat food?
So can someone tell the Doctors to stop pushing to trial me on antidepressants, and to focus on the real health problem here? I think that if I could return to my normal life, I wouldn’t feel depressed?

Mum won’t even let me have a shower until she is home, and near me. How embarrassing. I am twenty two and my mother has to stand guard at the fucking bathroom door because I am weak.
Why would someone CHOOSE this? The Doctors insinuate every fucking time that I am just ‘depressed’ or ‘stressed’. One of the idiots actually used BREAKDOWN.
What the fuck do I have to break down about? Is everyone really that stupid? I had a great group of friends, I had saved money and money to spend on myself, a partner who I had mindblowing sex with. I don’t even remember sex. It just dawned on me that he probably thinks about it for every second that I don’t.
I had my fucking dream job, and I was surrounded by the most innocent, beautiful souls. I wanted to educate, nurture and love. I had plans to BE someone, and this plague has taken over and ruined everything.
My friends… well I currently don’t have any. It has been weeks since I have heard from my three supposed best friends. The time went so quickly because I was in a literal state of numbness. I don’t think they’d believe me anyway.
I have no interest in existing any longer.
I do not want to be here.
If I deserved punishment for something that I did wrong, I would have expected to receive something a little less torturous. Because, that’s the only way I can describe this feeling. I am being tortured every day and there is not one single Doctor, Specialist or Naturopath that can help me. They don’t have the slightest clue.

I know I am going to die.
I can feel it.
I see the signs.
If Death doesn’t take me, I will do the job myself.
A body just doesn’t… shut down like this, without anyone knowing why.
If this is my last entry, then so be it. I will be thankful for all of the enjoyment I got prior to being sick. I’ll be happy for the brief moment I was in my dream job, the love I felt and was given, I’ll be happy that I spent some wonderful moments with my family and my friends… back then.
If this is my last entry, then I just want to make it known that I am happy to die. I welcome the feeling. You do not scare me, Death.
I am happy to leave, because if this is what was destined for my life, I don’t want it.”


  1. Oh dear God do I ever understand EVERYTHING you wrote. Feeling “nothing” sounds like utopia to me. I haven’t got the guts to end it myself but I have prayed for the end to come on far too many occasions. I feel like the “living” part of my life is all in the past. I am merely existing and not doing that very well. Physically, I am in better shape than I was at this time last year but I am still not well… I never will be… knowing THAT is exhausting.
    I have two sons and one of them has spun out into the world of addiction. He is dying at his own hands and ever so slowly. I have nightmares of his death and I wake crying. Then I realize that I can’t help him. I am sick too. I am weak. I have no control over him or even my own body. He shuns me because facing that his mother is so sick scares him and hurts him. He has left me and crawled into the underbelly of the world. I suppose he doesn’t want to feel either. I struggle with the guilt of how I/my illness have/has hurt my child. I cry,,,
    HUGS to you, Cass!! I am happy to hear that your depression has lessened since the on set of your disease. I know you are a fighter 🙂

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Oh Julie ❤ my heart goes out to you. If I had the ability to heal, I would heal you before myself, honestly.
      I wish I could stop your pain!

      I feel the same way – that I am just existing. Things aren't "better". I think I'm coping better or adjusting… which is sad because I'm not showing any medical improvements.

      YOU are a fighter too ❤ remember that

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Yes… coping… because we have no choice. We are all stronger than our diseases make us out to be. The world, our doctors, our family and friends may whisper of our weaknesses when we cannot hear but we are STRONG in ways that they cannot even imagine. We have been forced to tap into areas of our being that they have never experienced within themselves.
        Only we who have this horrible, common bond can understand. Therefor, I understand why you, Cass, would heal me if you could just as I would also do for you… none of us would wish these trials on another being for we know the depth of the despair. Fight On!!!!

        Liked by 2 people

  2. I am glad that this is an old diary entry… I am so glad you don’t feel like this any more. I’ve lived in chronic pain myself for five years with CRPS, agonising pain that can’t be treated. I’ve been right down and felt the sense of not wanting to wake and be in that body again. I’m housebound now, it drives me crackers, but I’m doing okay, and I have unending depths of compassion and admiration for anyone who has fought to not give up. You’re amazing. We all are. Take care of yourself, and thanks for sharing such a dark moment. Nell 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

  3. I totally understand your frustration and exhaustion.
    I felt the same way at 22 when my life as I knew it ceased to exist.
    Undiagnosed for the next 3 years, I suffer from violent vomiting and vertigo. I had to crawl to the bathroom to throw up. A myriad of doctors unable to agree on a diagnosis much less on a treatment left me isolated, completely isolated and in despair. This was prior to the Internet era.

    Persverance, fortitude and an ultimatum of a prayer to a God who could heal me paid off after 3 years.
    It was a cruel journey but I made it to the other side safely.

    Life smiled at me again, a new boyfriend followed by a wedding, 3 precious children, a family, a new job, new friends, it was the real deal until all crumbled down a few years ago due to a series of other life – threatening health issues. The prognosis is not the best of news you want to hear and that is fine.

    32 years have passed from the day my life was turned upside down and changed forever.
    If this is my time to go back to my permanent home, I fully embrace it. I am exhausted but I am definitively glad that I gave it my all at 22, searched and prayed for answers and I did receive them .

    Forward to the present, I am not entirely familiar with your symptoms, diagnosis or lack of one, but you have mentioned different gut issues on your blog repetitively.

    I have one suggestion for you. Join a Facebook supoort group named FMT and Bactheriopathy. At the very least, you might be able to share all of your issues with fellow chronically ill patients who suffer from a myriad of conditions that affect their difestive systems but also include co exsiting Morbidities. As one who never took a No for an answer, I highly encourage you to explore this group …
    You’ll be surprised as the doors to never heard of before vital and vast pieces of information and knowledge will be opened for you.

    Feel free to email if you should desire to do so.
    I am all for not giving up in spite of the most gruesome adversities, especially, when there is a whole life ahead of you to live and enjoy.

    No matter how many times I felt like giving up I shook myself of all rubbish, did never accept that my illness was in my head, the result of traumas from my infant years and I kept moving forward until all the pieces came together. My mysterious illness, had a name at last, it is caled Meniere’s Syndrome. It is a progressive inner ear condition that eventually render you deaf and it is the most disabling illness among ambulatory patients. Vertigo renders you in a catatonic state. Try to move your head an inch and you end up vomiting for hours non stop and dancing around your Room at a surreal speed. Surreal indeex . You don’t move but your ears and brain play this cruel trick on you …for years.

    But this is not about me. It’s about you.
    I pray that you take another opportunity to explore a new Avenue. Possible answers to your puzzle

    At my age I have seen cases that take months, few years, many years of perseverance to get that name that unmasks our sly opponent.

    It is always worth a try considering that it does not cost a cent to be a sleuth for one’s health

    There is a national organization caled NORD, National Organization of Rare Diseases.
    You may look it up. Address them about your cluster of symptoms. Search their files for commonalities with your own case.

    You are entitled to a breakthrough. Hope you and fellow subscribers attain it.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you for reaching out to me and telling your story!
      I am so happy that you found relief. It is nice to hear that there is hope for life after illness. I have a friend who has Meniere’s, and of course I have been tested for it but it came back negative. It is tricky to manage. Thank you for the links to new pages; I will take a peek. I am always interested in learning about new things and new ways to help people, and hopefully myself.
      I really appreciate you commenting, and I hope you share your wisdom with others xo C


      1. You are very welcome
        I shared my story about Meniere’s, migraine and depression in my book …

        Currently, I am dealing with plenty of new , life – threatening conditions and although I am at peace with the concepts of acceptance and mortality, I am also very familiar with hope.

        Hope in a breakthrough, in a new medicine, a new study, a new physician who has dealt with a similar case before …

        Years ago, Meniere’s was incurable
        Today, Dan White, president of the UFCC has been Cured of his Meniere’s with a new procedure in Germany. Who would have thought some mere years ago?

        And while the new treatment is reserved only for the very rich at present eventually, it should be a mainstream treatment available to all Meniere’s sufferers.

        Not all diseases will ever dissappear. Many will never be cured, but we all have the undeniable right to seek and pursue the best quality of life possible.

        If I would have given up on hope thirty years ago, my three children would never have been born.

        I am glad I did keep pushing on amid the trials, the tears and excruciating pain.

        Meniere’s is usually not too difficult to diagnose but in my case, hearing loss was absent for the first few years …
        Doctors discarded the diagnosis because I did not fit in into the square box where they classify Meniere’s symptoms.

        Experience taught me that each one of us is so unique that although we share many needs and characteristics, our bodies, minds, and souls could never be replicated.

        Keep on moving forward by allowing hope to be an integral part of your every day routine.

        Do arm yourself with hope because it is your divine right, especially, at the tender age of 22.

        I should add that for me my Christian faith has, is and always be my anchor and main source of Strength followed by angels, the ones above and the ones on Earth called relatives and friends

        God bless you

        Liked by 3 people

  4. I am glad that you are not going through this now and this is a page from a diary. I find it very hard to read and understand the pages written by me when I hit the bottom. It is like “When love is over how little of love even the lover understands,”; when I am not depressed (even though I might not be in the best mood, but not depressed, you know) – I find it hard to reconcile myself with the thoughts and thought processes I have when depressed.

    Liked by 1 person

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