The one I wasn't sure about writing

I wasn't sure whether to write this blog post or not but one reason I'm here is to help others get through what I've been through (albeit indirectly), so for that reason I am sitting in my flat at 11.30pm on a Friday night writing a difficult blog entry.

I have suffered from severe depression and agoraphobia. The main catalyst for the last episode was about 18 months ago. It was a serious incident in the workplace for which I had little or no support from my employers. The event resulted in a court case and was the most stressful thing I have ever had to face. I lost all confidence in my ability to do my job (even though my ability had not diminished in any way) and my self esteem plummeted. I was signed off sick with depression, I didn't leave the house for months and completely retreated into my own little world. On one occasion, in April I think, I went to the theatre on a rare attempt to be what I saw as 'normal'. I had a major panic attack and felt as though I'd failed. I then stayed indoors for several weeks, crushed at my 'failure'.

I gradually started going out, first sitting on my doorstep, then little walks down the lane. I had registered several months before to do the Moonwalk, a charity overnight marathon through London. I wanted to train for it and I had a purpose so, with the support of family, friends, and particularly from online friends on Twitter, I trained. One lovely twitter friend offered to meet me at Euston station so I didn't have to arrive on my own. My mum saw me onto the train and after a nail biting, nail digging in arms journey I arrived and met J.  I didn't complete the walk due to it coinciding with a 48 hour stomach bug but I'd accepted a challenge and that was enough for me to see it as a success. I'd managed the train journey, met people I'd never seen before, and even managed to get home totally alone. It was a turning point. From then I got part time work in a pub and started going out again.

So how did I get from there to here? I'd been happy not to work before that. It was Safe (with a capital S). There were no risks involved. That's what depression did to me -  it took away my ability to take any risks, however small. I knew I had to be sure I could still do things that were outside my comfort zone. I love teaching, couldn't find a job in the UK teaching English so started to look abroad. I'd learned Russian at Uni (many years previously!) and had worked in Poland so had some experience of living in colder climates during the winter. Russia seemed a logical choice, so when I saw a job in Siberia, I thought "why not?!"

Since I've been here, I've been down a few times and I've cried. That's a normal reaction to being away from home. I'm also accepting it is also a normal reaction to teaching! The big difference is that now there are enough challenges every day for me to be motivated to continue and not want to go to bed. When I want to sleep here, it's because I'm tired (or hungover!), not because I'm avoiding the real world.

I wanted to write this as a lot of people who read this blog have suffered from, or are suffering from, depression or anxiety. Don't think about the big steps. Think about the little steps along the lane or even to the end of the drive. They will lead to the things you think are big and scary now.

Some of my colleagues may read this. They don't know I had depression (although my boss does). I don't want to be treated any differently. I'll have emotional days, but it doesn't mean I'm sinking again. I love what I do, I love where I am (at the moment!), and I know I've made the right decision. I'm looking forward to the next few months and whatever they will bring.