Supernova Soph
Following the heart warming messages of support from friends last night and their bravery to share their own journeys with me, (U da bomb guys) I woke feeling refreshed. Liberated in the knowledge that I am still accepted and welcomed into their lives.
With this in mind I feel it is time to share the side of depression often not spoke about, the paranoia and violent outbursts.
Now if you've ever met me you will see I am on the small side and generally I am babbling about nonsense or harassing colleagues to give me a fun fact. You would never, ever have pegged me as the angry little troll that has been restrained by my parents numerous times, or the one who has wrapped a mug around my brother in laws head - sorry Billy lad. The candid truth, it only takes one too many for me to descend into 4am screaming.
I am somewhat of a juxtaposition in that I do whole hardheartedly trust, or at least try to, everyone. I will invest time and love in to anyone who smiles at me. Hold the door open for me and I'll think about how repay you all day! In the back of my mind though it is another tale, I am always wondering what your motive is. Why you say hello, if your tweets are aimed at me, are the girls talking about me behind my back.
This bears no exception to my love life, to begin with I did 100% trust my ex-partner but as time went on and he doubted my fidelity I started obsessing over the question of his. A night out with family/friends would result in us getting home, smashing ornaments, attacking each other and our insecurities. Now, where it is common knowledge that I left him because he once turned violent (still not condoned by any means) but what isn't known is that every time I had a drink I would become violent. I would flail at him with all my might then wake up on the bathroom floor and cry to him, cry about how sorry I was and how it was his fault, that he should have paid me a little more attention, that other girls wouldn't have known we were together and why would he want that?
I allowed myself to believe it was only that relationship that brought out this side in me, but in reflection I have always been this way, as you will see. Nether the less I need to accept that this is part of who I was when I refused to address my issues. Fingers crossed, I will not revert to smasher soph, but if I do, please just bear with me.
My depression has lead me down many paths, ones that have been glorious and ones that have been less so. To clarify, I live my life refusing to regret any instances, that every single moment is building to another and simply that, these moments are what a life is made of. The anger however, is not at all constructive. I am fortunate enough to have a support network that has forgiven me on more occasions than I could possibly count. In this post I am going to relay a few stories of when I have gone supernova, hopefully people will see and will be more accepting of their own experiences.
Account 1:
When I was nearing the end of 19 me and my sister got a house together, it was a brilliant idea at the time. I could bring boys back, have nights in with the girls and generally be as free as I wanted to. The reality of it was, I wasn't prepared. My older sister has always been more mature, she would rather have a family, house, career (this is not me being negative, I respect that) whereas I just want life experience, to learn about other cultures and to see beautiful things. We are the epitome of chalk and cheese. I thought it was going to be one big party. Now, I cannot recall where I had been on the night of the incident but I know I was beyond intoxicated. I came home, loudly. Woke the house and obviously my poor sister (who works an insane amount of hours) was not impressed. The details of how it developed are a blur but knowing me, I would have been sassing. The argument escalated into me literally sitting on her (she's about 5ft and 6 stone so imagine) and battering the poor mite. I was uncontrollable, a flurry of fury and repressed rage. For lack of a better term, I was insane. Somehow amongst the insanity my mother and the step father had been summoned. They managed to shepherd me upstairs, into the shower. I had to be physically restrained whilst they brought me into a manageable state with the falling water. (side note, unsure on why the water works but it always has soothed me) Again, the details are fuzzy, I believe at this point I had fully dissociated. My poor ma got me into bed, that should have been the end of that. Nope. She undressed me for bed and when I realised someone was taking off my bottoms the engine started again. I was off! Back to the shower for me. In that night, I had attacked everyone in my immediate family. I had screamed, cussed, told my mother it was her fault I had took all the narcotics I had. I broke their hearts.
Account 2:
Billy and the mug. Now this is one that is still joked about to this day, luckily we have all moved on to appreciate the humorous side of the altercation (I am not condoning violence in any way, but I am really good friends with him now and we joke about it) My sister introduces me to her staff as the bird that decked her boyfriend! This was a more sober altercation, I had still been out and had a good few pints of Belgium Blue! ('tis the season) Thus was still a little merry. Myself and my boyfriend at the time had returned home, one of the few times being the first one back to the house. I woke a little later to shouting. They were arguing, it should have been their business. I should not have got out of bed. However, supernova swift was back! Swooping in to 'save the day' was what I thought it was. I flew down the stairs only quickly grabbing a dressing gown. I simply did not have time to put it on so it was hung in front of me. Imagine my poor brother in laws face when he saw a very naked soph rushing towards him as though in some warped naked haka dance. Obviously I got violent. When in my blind rage I realised I could not physically over power him I stooped to the one thing I despise, weapons. Thus the mug! a few blows later the mug had broke but Billy had not. So I began jabbing the pointed end of the handle into his temple. During the altercation the police had been called. So after pushing the poor bugger out of the property they arrived. I am so, so fortunate to not have received a criminal record for this, also for no lasting damage to have come to who is now one of my dearest friends, and the father to my nephew. Luckily, he has forgiven me and still to this day we will look at the mugs around and I will say 'now then Billy, go steady lad..'
Account 3:
Have you ever been so in love you would do anything to have them, to keep them as yours? You would even stoop the manipulation and systematic abuse?
I am ashamed to say I have. I met my ex-partner and thought he was an idiot, a couple of months later I realised I had spent every weekend with him since the first night. It was my first love. He was the best thing to ever happen to me. The truth of the matter, we were the worst thing for each other. After a matter of months I had given up my flat and moved in with him, it was bliss. As with all relationships things started to change, but I couldn't handle that, I craved the sensation that I was the centre of his universe. Those honeymoon days where the world was ours for the taking. We both began to manipulate each other. Dropping little comments about what was acceptable and what wasn't. It became a power struggle for a long time until I gave in and submitted. It was toxic. Nights out became something to fear, I would make excuses to leave early so I could avoid the arguments. If I'm honest we were as bad as each other and I genuinely believe we brought out the ugliest traits of our health. Sometimes, I would stay out longer, to prove a point. Sort of a stubborn,' Dobby is a free elf' protest. These lead to the worst nights. I would get drunker than I should have and so would he. We would start to grimace at each other across the table and generally make it uncomfortable for all of our friends. On the night of his dads 60th I had got dressed up, I felt a million dollars. In my drunken, paranoid state I was angry that he had paid me no attention that night. Now I cannot remember much other than flashes of the night but from others accounts, I started being nasty in the taxi, with him, his sister and her friend. Clearly this continued when we got in the house as neither of us could leave an argument. I woke to a black eye, toppled Christmas tree and various ornaments smashed around the house. This was when I knew it had to stop. I started to pack my bags and waited for him to come home to explain. That morning was the best we had ever got along.
The point of sharing these tales is to let you know, our mental health brings out ugly symptoms as well. We can beat ourselves up about them or we can be open and honest about them. There's so many more stories I could share and it still makes me sick to my stomach to know I am capable of becoming this character. This 'Eastenders' archetype,
Fortunately almost all of the affected parties in these tales have forgiven me, and I am growing to forgive myself.
Be peaceful and accepting,
soph. x
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