Jodi/female/36

My name is Jodie and I am 31 years of age. I have just finishing reading some of the stories on here and I feel the need to tell mine.

My life had its ups and downs just like everyone else?s. I grew up with a father who was an alcoholic and took his tempers out on my mother. She finally got the courage to leave him when I was 15 years old. I won't lie and say that I was a sweet girl towards my mother. I regretfully took my fathers side in the separation and did some horrible things to my mum and brothers. Things I can never take back.

After a while, my mum forgave me for all the hurtful things and we became close again. Just in time for her to be there for me for the birth of her beautiful first grandson. My dad seemed to be getting his life back on track as well, and that made me the happiest girl in the world. He had given up drinking, which was a hard thing for him to do. After a while I noticed that he was slowly withdrawing, and he started to have really bad panic attacks. He was diagnosed with Depression and Anxiety Disorder, but being from the old school, he believed that men did not suffer from mental illnesses and refused to accept any help he was offered.

In 2005 it all got the better of him and he committed suicide 2 days before my sons first birthday, while I was 5 months pregnant with his grand-daughter. Most of the time directly after his death is still a blur to me, but I think it is best that I don't remember.

My life started to get a bit better, I married the father of my children and we had another child in 2001. Things were finally looking up for me, or so I thought. I came crashing down in 2004.

All I remember was not wanting to talk to anyone, I wanted no one to talk to me, and I did not eat for 10 days. I felt I would be better off dead.

My husband and my mum intervened and made me go to a doctor, where I was diagnosed with Depression and Anxiety. Hearing that come from the doctor was like being hit by a truck. All that was going through my head was how my dad suffered and was I going to end up like him.

I didn't though. I looked after myself and took my medication, until I had a feeling that I was better.

How wrong could I have been? I crashed again in January this year, all I remember is sitting on the floor in my bathroom shaking, screaming and crying that I needed help. A trip off to the hospital this time the diagnosed as Severe Depressive Disorder and Severe Anxiety Disorder. I was put on suicide watch for nearly 3 weeks, weekly visit back to the hospital, weekly visits from Mental Health Psychologists and 1 week stay in hospital.

I still cannot leave my house. I suffer major panic attacks even thinking about leaving the house. It is so hard on my husband and 3 children. One minute they see me happy, the next I am a total mess. I have many times thought about ending my suffering and my families suffering, as I feel it would be easier on them if they did not have to see so many different sides of me. I feel their lives would be better off without me here, but then I think about what I have been through with my father's suicide, and I could not do that to them.

I guess what I am trying to say is - No matter how hard your life seems, no matter how depressed you are, there is always a light at the end of the tunnel. Sometimes you cannot see that light, but that does not mean that it is not there. You need to keep pushing yourself, push really hard to find the end of the tunnel.

I know that this is going to be something I will suffer for the rest of my life, but I am not going to let it beat me. I will not give in to it and let it destroy my life the way that it destroyed my fathers. Please be gentle with yourselves and remember that you did not choose to have this illness. But you can choose how you live your life with this illness.

Jodie