For the majority of my life I’ve felt like a fraud. I fake my way through a “normal” day 80% of the time, hoping I don’t get caught out. I feel like a fraud when it comes to my depression too.

I don’t take medication for it and its been a few years since my last counselling session. I read others descriptions and battles with depression and anxiety and the majority of them talk about their medication and I find myself wondering “Am I actually depressed or am I just feeling a little blue?”, does the lack of a little pill in my palm mean I can’t feel that way and label myself as depressed? It’s said that 1 in 11 adults in the UK take antidepressant, with the UK being the 4th most medicated population in Europe.

Is my depression less “impressive” or “real” because I chose not to medicate myself? I’ve been offered it before, and to be honest its one of the reasons I decided not to seek help two years ago when it was really bad. I worked myself up thinking if I tell the doctor I’m ill, they’ll want to pump me full of tablets or cart me off to the mad house. It doesn’t make me feel like a martyr as I battle on with the constant wave of sickness that washes over me, in fact it scares me. Has my depression become so bad that I can’t see that medication would help me or is my depression making me think I don’t need medication.

I worry that no one will take my feelings seriously, and I get to the point where I don’t want to say anything because I know around the corner on Facebook someone will do a big reveal of their new tablet they choke down everyday in order to feel “normal”.

If I’m brutally honest, it annoys me. I hate with a passion the million Facebook blue thumb likes and the “Babe, you are totes brave and strong”. The plaudits people receive for being honest with their 103 followers, half of who don’t know you properly and are only friends so they can stalk you in the hope you fucked up your life worse then they did. Fuck you!

Yes, you could say I am one of those people with this blog, desperately clawing for some sort of recognition. But in all honesty, I started this to sort my head out. A verbal virtual vomit shed of all the crap in my head, in the vain hope it would make sense if it was in black and white in front of me. For me, this has made it more real, I can go back and read about the mental and physical abuse I suffered at the hands of my ex and realise it wasn’t normal and it wasn’t okay. I’ve learnt more about myself – what I like and dislike, what I want to change and what I want to keep.

I’m sure this will cause divided opinion (if anyone reads this thing!) but as I said, this has been rattling around in my skull for awhile. So will I eventually go down the route of medication, or will I continue with my babbling and self hope that it will all be okay?

Either way, to those of you fighting with pills, or those of you fighting with therapy, or those fighting it on your own, just keep fighting. Because at the end of the day however you get to not feeling like shit 80% of the time it works for you and that’s the most important thing.