Remember I once told you the day would come I would tell you about my real-life experiences? It’s time to write about them! Not too long ago I reached a point in my life where I just couldn’t go on. And no matter what your friends and family tell you … in the end you need to make the decision yourself, do it your own way and take the final step.

Everything started … well, it’s difficult to say … there have been very bad times. Disappointments, setbacks, grieving. I dealt with everything on my own for many, many years. Writing was my therapy then and it still is to a certain point. Thinking back, I think I still dragged everything with me, no matter what. Those years, stuff just kept piling up. Privately and professionally. In terms of betrayal, money matters, insecurity job-wise, loneliness. And that’s what hit me the most: the loneliness. Moving to a new country, alone, at the age of nearly 40, where most of my colleagues (male nonetheless) have their normal lives in terms of family and relationships … a single girl like me just didn’t fit in. Finding friends and building up some kind of social network was hard. And all in all, I have four people around me in the closer vicinity who I am happy to call close friends now and who I can trust completely. With everyone else far away. 

I was lucky to have them by my side, either through phone calls or text messages or the one or other hug during my really bad times, where my moods changed hourly and I had crying fits. Displaying every single symptom of nervous breakdowns. And they didn’t give up on me. All those long months, they didn’t give up on me. But in the end, I still was alone. Coming home after a bad day, I still was alone. With my thoughts and worries. 

One day I realized I couldn’t go on without destroying myself and my health. That basically I was sick. And this realization needs to come from yourself. And yourself alone. It’s like with everything else: alcoholism, drug abuse, obesity, any kind of addiction. One needs to admit something is wrong, that you need help and want to get better.

For me, someone who considered herself strong and being able to deal with everything on her own for so many years, managing huge things alone … it was hard admitting that my friends were not enough anymore to get me out of it. But … it took me more than a year to take this step.

You wonder what I felt like? Broken. Plain and simple. Broken. My hard “cancer girl” shell dented and damaged. Little things making me cry or angry. Emotional ups and downs. Tired and exhausted. Worried all the time. And grieving. Grieving about the past and what I had lost, grieving about the present and my loneliness, grieving about the future. And this deep despair at times …

You wonder why I’m writing about this openly? Do I wonder whether it might affect my career if my company found out? It doesn’t matter. Not really. No one should be ashamed to seek help in order to get better and well again. Times have changed, there’s more pressure, more loneliness. And sometimes … bad things just happen. One after another and they don’t stop coming. And if you can’t compensate these bad times through some other parts of your life … find a balance … then … professional help is what you need to find back to yourself. And remember … you are not alone in this. You are never alone. There are millions of other people in similar situations!

How am I right now? Nearly as good as new, I took some mild medication for a while which helped taking the edge off and had been looking forward to my psychiatrist appointment, which came at a point in my life where I was moving away and didn’t need it anymore. What really annoyed me, though? I was promised an appointment in the course of 5 months – it took them 8 months to get back to me! Let’s just hope real hard cases are treated better! 


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