10 years since

It's not the anniversary you are thinking of.

On September the 10th, 2001, I took a day off work to travel to Toowoomba to see my childhood doctor because I wanted to die. It marked the beginning of coming to terms with a diagnosis of an illness that at the time had quite a stigma attached to it. The world is a little more accepting now.

It's a confusing illness - it transcends the realms of the emotional, physical, and spiritual. Often, even 10 years on, I'm not sure which elements I am struggling with.

I started taking antidepressants.

It was 6 months before I admitted it to anyone other than my parents. Even today, I choose who I tell.

I thank God for it and wouldn't want to be without it. It has taught me more than nearly any other deep waters he's taken me through.