Carers must really care

For anyone who doesn’t know, Gog is my partner.

We have been dating for just over 6.5 years, and he has been caring me for over 6 years. Yes, he was very unlucky 😛

About a month after we started dating, I got news that a family member had terminal cancer, and it triggered a lot of shit. I had been mostly ‘recovered’ from an eating disorder for six months at the time, but the news sparked it off virtually overnight…over-exercising and starving myself became one hell of a way to cope and I basically stopped eating.

Alongside this I fell into a deep, dark depression which was one of the longest episodes I’d ever had, and lasted way over six months.

So we were still early in our relationship when Gog was kind of thrust into the role of being a carer, but he was bloody amazing. He worked out ways to help me to eat – for me this was gentle encouragement, reminding me that everyone has to eat and, when I was ready to eat slightly larger meals, he would take over the responsibility of making the food and knowing what the ingredients to the meals were. I would give him a calorie bracket (eg. 300 calories) and he would make a meal and sit with me as we ate.

As the depression got worse I became impressively suicidal – I have not felt so determined to kill myself since.

I was fairly honest about my intentions, and Gog kept a close eye on me. There were several close calls…times when I snuck out of the house whilst he was sleeping (one time he ran to an overpass to stop me jumping whilst making sure to keep me on the phone, another time he hunted me down taking an overdose in the darkness and took me to A&E)…but he did everything in his power to keep me safe.

He was nineteen at the time, and he had no experience with depression, eating disorders, or suicidal ideation before me.

He is amazing…always has been, always will be.

Over the years my illness has steadily gotten worse; we have gone from depression, to Major Depressive Disorder and Generalised Anxiety Disorder, to Borderline Personality Disorder, to Bipolar Disorder.

And now we seem to have a weird version of Bipolar Disorder where I have mood episodes, sometimes that bleed into each other, and where I experience psychosis all the time no matter what.

Gog and I are rarely apart. Ever.

He is constantly checking in with me, helping me out, asking how I feel, how he can help, and keeping an eye on me.

When I’m hallucinating he is the person I make myself rely on; if he says something isn’t real, it’s not. When I’m depressed he is the one I am furious at because he keeps me safe, and when I’m manic he is the person I scream at because he won’t let me spend all our money or do anything ‘crazy’.

He puts up with all my shit and does nothing other than try help me as I essentially ruin his life.

He will forgo sleep to make sure I am safe, phone and argue with self-important ‘I-am-better-you’ Doctors to try get me help, and hold me as I cry and try to explain why killing myself would be the best for everyone.

He has been doing this for six years.

I always moan at how hard it is having a carer – I can’t go out on my own unless I am anything other than stable, and only then for no more than an hour and Gog might try and phone me and I ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO answer the phone. I don’t get time alone, blah blah blah…

But honestly, I have fuck all to complain about…imagine what it is like to be a carer.

He works tirelessly for nothing, and whenever I feel irritable it is him that bears the brunt. I have tried to hurt him whilst manic / psychotic when I thought he was a spy sent to kill me, I have had to say to him “please move those scissors from over there, I am scared I’m going to hurt you” whilst he calmly moves everything out of reach…and he is still there for me, he still adores me.

I do not deserve him.

He does what he does because he loves me so much. I FUCKING HATE that I am so horrible to him over and over, and that I have ruined his life…he can’t work, he can’t go out alone and do stuff, if I am in a rough patch so is he by default…I hate myself. But I love him so much, he is honestly the best person on the planet and I am incredibly lucky to have him.

So…this post is just me saying thank you Gog.

Also, thanks to all the other carers out there who look after people with mental illnesses. You probably don’t get much recognition from Doctors, or social workers, or the general public…but know that you’re amazing and the world wouldn’t be the same without you.

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