Demonic demon within. Chapter twenty nine. Life worth living.

I had for a few days, a sense of impending doom and I found that I could not pull myself together. I felt that some devastating horrendous past memory was trying to reveal itself and I was fighting to hold it back. I felt sick with fear and knowingly held back the memory, despite wanting to face it, because I was afraid of what the memory would show me. I also knew that I would carry on for the rest of my life feeling wretched if I did not face what I knew to be a blocked memory from my childhood days, when my mother and father were abusing me.

One night I cried myself to sleep because I felt so lost, lonely and afraid. I was woken to the sound of running water so I jumped out of bed and ran to the kitchen. There was no tap pouring water from the kitchen so I ran to the other side of the flat to the bathroom, the only other place that housed a tap. I stood in front of the bathroom sink, feeling baffled. No running water in there either. I stood there trying desperately to clear my half a sleep brain, and work out what was happening, where the sound of running water was coming from. In a heartbeat, invisible hands grabbed me by the stomach and chest and with tremendous speed, slammed me up to the bathroom ceiling. How I did not die from shock and fear, I do not know. I was pinned to the ceiling by an invisible force and saying I was petrified would be an understatement. I tried to scream but I could make no sound. I could see the sink below me as I hovered above the bathroom, trying to scream and make sense of what was happening. I remembered thinking, when I drop I am going to smash my face on the taps and sink. I tried to scream again and this time the most demonic, blood curdling roar came out of my mouth from somewhere deep down in side of me. I sensed something leaving my body through my mouth. Words cannot describe the sheer terror I felt. I was so terrified I remember my mind just switching off because I could not continue to deal with what was happening. The next thing I was aware of, I was standing at the side of my bed in a different room. I dropped to my knees sobbing. I prayed for some one to help me. The next time I opened my eyes, my youngest son was stroking my head and trying to soothe me. “Shush, Mum, it’s okay, you are having another bad dream. 'It’s just a dream mum”.

I went back to sleep only to be woken by my friend Elaine, who had recently committed suicide. She looked well and she was smiling as she said, "Louise, let it go, have an abreaction and you will be happy". She smiled again and then was gone. Abreaction People tell me that seeing ghosts like I do was a figment of my imagination, I know it is not.

The next day, my final day with Brenda, my counsellor. I talked about my demon experience and tried to make sense of it. I needed her to reassure me that I had not gone completely mad. As we talked I felt a strange feeling, rising from my stomach to my throat. Something was coming and I was afraid. My stomach tensed to the point I was struggling to breathe properly and I felt like something was being dragged from a deep dark corner within me, into the light where I could see it. A memory, long since blocked off from my awareness because it was too traumatic to deal with, was going to reveal itself and I knew I could not hold it back. I held tight onto Brenda’s hand as I felt the full force of my long since buried memory of my mother trying to drown me, bursting into my awareness. Although the pain of this memory was tremendous, I was glad that the incident was remembered and dealt with. I knew I would be free of that deep hurtful memory forever.

I feel that all the horrendous memories I have of my childhood could have been dealt with much earlier in life. I had been labelled 'backward', as a child and depressed as an adult. I have been legally drugged all my life, and I think, for my doctors, giving me a pill was the easy option. I needed help to deal with my past and no one would listen. My inner pain and how I tried to deal with that pain was medicalised and I was prescribed powerful drugs to numb me up and keep all memories away from my awareness. Whilst I was not taking medication, my inner floodgates were released and memories hidden from me for the last fifty years were revealed. I had to deal with these memories on my own because when I did seek help, I was offered drugs.

For many, drugs to deal with depression have proven to be beneficial. For others they leave us feeling worse than before the drug treatment. I know I am not the only one that has taken anti depressants for years and never felt any better. For years I let my doctors dismiss me and my worry of the drugs not helping, and my fears of what the chemicals in them were doing to my mental functioning. I told them time and time again, over thirty years, that I had no quality of life because I felt that I was just surviving and not enjoying life at all. "That is because you are depressed and need medication", was always the response I got.

I understood that if life is going to be worth living, then life needed to be enjoyed. I did not enjoy life and had no idea of what would make me happy. Deep down, I did not feel worthy of happiness. Now I understand, we are all worthy of happiness. If we are born, we are meant to blossom to our full potential, to be the best we can be, to feel good about ourselves. Just like different plants need different soil conditions and environments to encourage growth, we need to be in the right environment with the right conditions so that we can develop to the best we can be. We are supposed to have the best of life and to want the best from life. I understand we are all unique individuals, despite our similarities of life experiences, and we are all here for a reason. I know I have to find meaning in life and find a purpose to make life worth living.

Next chapter thirty. Life is what you want it to be.

Previous chapter. For the sake of the children

Why I tell my story

History of women and depression. Birth of civilisation, part one