It’s the Home Alone sequel you never asked for.
Structure is a blessing.
After you graduate, you realise all those lectures you skipped because you were too busy nursing a hangover were a goddamn gift. Aside from the whole "education" thing, university gave you structure. The loss of a timetable, coupled with depression, royally screwed me. I suddenly realised I had no reason to get up anymore. There were no lectures to feel like skipping, no friends to see. Suddenly, my greatest purpose was deepening my bum groove in the sofa. I stopped going out. I stopped getting dressed. I stopped showering. I woke up later and later each day, until I became a nocturnal creature that existed only to watch reruns of Catchphrase.
When you're depressed, you might not feel like planning ahead, because everything seems pointless. But, something as simple as setting an alarm can help. Schedule a time to go out into daylight (you won't burst into flame). Ask your parents for errands then set a time to do them. Creating a schedule is like a hug from your aunt, you don't really want one but it's better for all involved if you just do it.
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Because the real world can be overwhelming.
In many ways, being a graduate is harder than University. You spend three years in a bubble, then suddenly that bubble bursts. Entering the real world with depression and no plan is like the plot to Life of Pi: drifting aimlessly on a vast ocean, totally alone, with only a tiger that plans on eating you for company.
Intrepid adventurer of the high seas that I am, the answer to this was obvious. Run back home and hide under the bed covers because the real world is terrifying. There's so many choices to be made, and directions to decide on, that it's easy to end up spiraling into a mess of panic and indecision.
From personal experience, To Do lists that start with "try to be less shit", don't work. But, if you try to break life down into small manageable pieces, then tackle each piece a day at a time, you're onto a winner.
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It’s not as easy as people make it look.
When I wasn't taking solace in the dulcet Irish tones of Roy Walker, I was spending a lot of time on Facebook hitting refresh. With every scroll down my wall I was confronted by people on beaches making something of their life. I hated them, then I loathed myself. They had success and a suntan while all I had was my carefully cultivated sofa bum groove.
Depression told me, "you don't have that because you're worthless." It took me a long time to figure out that depression was a lying bastard. It told me I was the only one failing at life: I was unemployed and living at home whilst everyone else seemed to be landing their dream jobs. But people don't tend to populate their Facebook with failure. I saw success everywhere I looked because the struggle behind it was hidden – Facebook creates an illusion that everyone is happy. This is bullshit.
One day my Mum turned to me and said, "don't worry, one day you'll get there." I went to the toilet and cried. That was the first time I felt like I would get there. I didn't know where "there" was - and still don't - but that didn't matter. You don't have to be good at life fast. It's a marathon, not a sprint and looking sideways gets you nowhere.
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Talking is hard.
Talking means vulnerability, and that's scary as hell. I was afraid that people would judge me or worse, that I would be put away somewhere. My brain was perfectly capable of recognising vulnerability in others as a strength, but was convinced that if I were to be honest, it would make me weak. Despite being around my family, I felt so incredibly alone and incapable of opening up. I didn't want to burden those I loved with my problems, convinced they'd just think I was being grumpy.
The best decision I made was to ring Samaritans. I really, really cannot recommend this enough. It's faceless, and they don't expect anything from you. You can literally just ring, and cry and hang up. That simple act of talking to someone who would listen and pass no judgement helped enormously.
If ever you're feeling low, take a deep breath and give them a call. Courage comes in tiny steps.
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