If you don't mind my asking, what sent you into this period of depression, and then what got you out?
		
		
	 
I'd had some panic/anxiety issues most of my life, but my big depression happened when I'd gone back home after University and was living in this really destructive environment. 
It's funny, because at the time I couldn't see that it was that causing the problems. But now i'm in a much better place I know it definitely was. 
Bascially, I was in a job I hated and was kind of getting bullied at work. I was in a home I didn't feel sane or safe in (my housemate and most of our friends were out of work and becoming drunks/druggies, heroin addicts etc, and there were ALWAYS people visiting or crashing with us, and it was just always a complete mess with people making no sense), and i'd lost all sense of direction because I didn't know what to do to get myself out of there and into a better job/town. Life just felt so utterly pointless. 
It started with just occasionally i'd find myself daydreaming at work about jumping out the third floor window. And these daydreams were becoming my only way of surviving the day, and of calming me down.
But they started coming on really strong, and it was like no matter what I did, i'd imagine dying like a fantasy. If I went to the doctors, i'd imagine being diagnosed with cancer. If I was in a car, i'd imagine dying in a car crash. If I was swimming i'd imagine drowning etc.
And I think once you realise how much you want to die, but you feel like you CAN'T because of the people that love you, living then becomes really hard work... it hurts, it's a constant suffocating effort to do ANYTHING.
I started drinking pretty heavily myself, but not with my housemate or our friends... I just wasn't going home or to anywhere people were. I was getting cider or vodka and just going to the park or the woods and listening to loud angry music while getting wasted and grabbing onto the ground and crying. 
The cutting started when it got to winter and it was too cold to be outside. So I felt like I couldn't escape the house and the parties anymore... so I was locking myself in my room and instead of bothering to scream at people to be quiet or get out anymore (which I was so sick of doing), I was just cutting my legs whenever I got really angry at something they'd done or if they'd been particularly loud. 
At first it was all in secret in my room. Then I started doing it at work too. Then I was just doing it when I was really drunk and not even bothering to hide it, and people (my housemate included) started to realise something was horribly wrong. 
The stupidest thing I did was walking slowly straight into the sea. One of my friends spotted me on the beach and got to me before I got too far... but yeah, that was the closest thing to a suicide attempt i've ever done. 
What snapped me out of it?
Yeah that's a bit inexplicable.
I mean, I got myself to the doctor and went through the system, which takes a while. First you get basically a telephone interview, which was just me slumped on the floor in the hall telling this women that I didn't want to be alive. Then I saw a councilor a few times face to face, and he just kept trying to convince me to go on prescription drugs, which I so didn't want because i'd seen what it had done to a few of my friends.  
At this point I had no idea what I wanted. 
I was desperately clinging to my job, i'm not even sure why. I guess I thought if I had to keep living (which I did, for my mum mostly) then I needed to earn enough money to have a roof over my head and afford booze and food and internet. So I hadn't completely lost it.
Somewhere in the midst of all this, I was sat at work one day and instead of one of my usual death fantasies, I started day dreaming this idea for a novel. 
I started writing it down, and it's like this imagination floodgate had opened and I couldn't stop writing for days. I went a bit manic with it. I was just so excited to be ENJOYING something again. 
And I think when that floodgate opened, it's like my ability to imagine how the future COULD get better was suddenly turned on again. 
I dunno, it's hard to explain. My life didn't exactly get better for a long time after that. In fact, I started doing the very drugs that had been driving me so mad, and carried on living a pretty messed up life for a while.
But I stopped wanting to die pretty suddenly and randomly, and I never cut myself again after that either. 
....
Well that was a much bigger ramble than I intended! 
My life is soooooo much better now. I live in the city, I have a group of positive and fun friends around (sure, there are still drugs about sometimes, but not so much for the sake of it and not all the time), I have a job I enjoy and workmates that make me laugh all day long, and I live in my own studio apartment that I LOVE. I'm pretty lucky I got out of there 
