Depression

[Buce]

Anthony Knockaert: ‘I was staring into the abyss. I was afraid of what might happen’

 

Brighton winger opens up on his battle against depression after his father died and he split up with his wife, urging people in similar situations to reach out. ‘You have to talk,’ he says

 

“There was a moment when I began crying and I just couldn’t stop,” Anthony Knockaert says, thinking back to last December and the moment he realised he needed to seek help. The winger was at the Brighton players’ Christmas party and it all became too much for him.

 

On the surface, everything was going superbly for Knockaert. He had played a big part in getting the club promoted to the Premier League and was playing regularly in a competition he watched as a young boy growing up in France. It should have been the best of times but it was the worst period of his life. He did not know how to put it into words at the time but he now says he was suffering from depression.

His father, with whom he was extremely close, had died during Brighton’s promotion season and then his marriage broke up in the summer of 2017. His wife returned to France, taking their toddler son, and Knockaert found himself feeling very alone in what was once a family house.

Usually one of the chirpiest characters in Brighton’s dressing room, he struggled to keep up appearances. Little by little he became sullen, introspective, angry at times and his football suffered as he attempted to deal with the emotions of loss. It all came to a head at the Christmas party, when the tears came all of a sudden and Knockaert found the strength to reach out to his friend and club captain.

 

“I had to tell Bruno that I needed help, that nothing was going right in my life,” he recalls. “That I didn’t know where it was all going to end if I didn’t talk about it. I felt like I was on the edge, staring into the abyss. I was afraid of what might happen.’’

The next morning, Bruno spoke to the Brighton manager, Chris Hughton, about what had happened and Knockaert was given help to find a psychologist. Knockaert, fully supported by his club, began a course of therapy.

“I think it saved me,’’ he says, earnestly. “It wasn’t immediate. It took time. But after three or four months I started to feel better and even though you must never get carried away I can honestly say that right now I feel back to my normal self. Happy. And I can see how it all came about – losing my Dad, the pending divorce, not seeing my little boy every day. It was impossible for me to concentrate on football. Impossible. I had dreamed of playing Premier League football but I was in no state to give the best of myself. It was depressing. People were criticising my performances, but they couldn’t know why I was struggling to perform.”

 

Knockaert arrived in England when he signed for Leicester, aged 20, following a breakthrough season in France’s second division with Guingamp. His flamboyant play quickly made him a crowd favourite. His dribbles, his goals, the exciting wing-play and the full-blooded commitment that the Roubaix-born Knockaert puts down to his origins in the industrial north of France, helped win over his teammates, too.

He scored a late winner to put Leicester into the play-offs and was on course to send them into the final when he stepped up to take a late penalty at Watford. However, Manuel Almunia saved his effort, and the rebound, and Watford went up the other end to grab a winner in the seventh minute of added time.

Knockaert says his teammates and Leicester’s fans were great to him in the aftermath, but the penalty miss follows him around and haunts him to this day. “I didn’t sleep for three days after that,’’ he says with a shake of the head. ‘‘It was terrible – the feeling you’ve let everybody down. Thankfully, we went up as champions the next season, with 102 points. I scored the goal that sealed the title but nobody remembers that, they all associate me with that missed penalty. Even today.’’

Brighton’s promotion season provided Knockaert with a different narrative and his performances were decisive as the club fought to return to the elite of English football for the first time since 1983. His father, Patrick, was almost always there, often making the trip from France in his car. Anthony says his father must have watched just about every game he played, starting with youth football. Patrick drove from France to be at Brighton’s home game with Wolves on 27 October 2016. It was a Tuesday. He died the following week.

 

“The way it happened, the speed of it all made it tougher for all my family,” Knockaert says. “He died of stomach cancer. He was 63. We saw he was losing weight, but nobody suspected what was going on. He never complained. He hated hospitals, didn’t like to go to the doctor’s.

“My dad told us he had a bit of bronchitis that he was struggling to get over and that he was tired. He was coughing a lot and seemed exhausted. I’d never seen him like that.

“He said he felt bad and even asked to see the club doctor. We took him back to France first thing the next morning – he insisted on driving. He went straight to hospital.

“We had an important game against Norwich on the Saturday – we won 5-0 and I scored. It was the last game he ever saw me play. He was in his hospital room with all the family around him. That was the day he found out he had cancer. I got there late that Saturday night. I saw him Sunday, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday and he died on Thursday.”

 

Knockaert had an astonishing bond with his father, one that had not changed since he was a small child. Indeed, it had grown stronger every year, which is not easy when people are in different countries.

‘‘It’s hard to face up to reality at times. You might think this sounds funny but in a way my dad was my idol and I was his idol. He was always there for me, through thick and thin. He loved football and loved coming to watch me. I don’t know if he ever missed a game from when I was a kid all the way up to my move to England.

“It’s hard to accept. We used to talk just about every day. After his death I’d sometimes find myself looking at my phone after a match wondering why he hadn’t sent me his match report.”

Two days after his father’s death, with Knockaert still in France with his family, Brighton won at Bristol City. Steve Sidwell, after scoring the winner, ran to the bench to grab Knockaert’s No 11 shirt and his teammates gathered around as Sidwell held the shirt aloft. This show of solidarity was much appreciated by the Frenchman and there was more to come.

 

“What happened on the day of the funeral is something I will never forget,” he says. “And it shows what an amazing club Brighton is and what great people I have had around me. I knew Bruno and the coach were coming over because Bruno, who’s been a great friend to me, called to ask for the address. I was really touched that the coach and the captain were going to be there to represent Brighton.

“The ceremony was in Leers, a little town near Lille. When I got to the church I looked up and saw a coach parked there. And getting off the bus, one after the other, all in smart suits, were all my teammates. It was unreal. Extraordinary.

 

“The players had come over the night before, they’d slept in a nearby town, everybody had made the effort to be there, to show their affection for my dad and to support me. It was breathtaking. I couldn’t believe it. It was an unforgettable moment for me and my family.

“I can’t imagine having better teammates or a better manager. Everybody at the club was looking after me from then on, making sure I didn’t go under. The fans were amazing, too. And my wife, my friends, my family.”

Even so, for Knockaert the following year was a battle; the overall sense was that he was lost. Yes, he had this amazing life as a professional footballer, but that did not seem to help at all at times.

“It was as if my dad’s death hadn’t really sunk in. Then, just before the new season began, my wife and I split up and she went back to France with our son. I found myself all alone in my house and everything kind of hit home.

 

All these emotions. I think that’s where the depression started. I didn’t dare say anything to anyone for quite a while but I felt really low, the worst I’ve ever been in my life. I had some very dark thoughts. I thought I was never going to get over it.

‘‘I’m talking about what happened to me now because I think it’s important to get the message across. Depression is not something that’s easy to understand. I certainly didn’t know what it meant – you hear about it but you can’t really grasp it until it’s close to you or until it strikes you.

“People think that because you’re a footballer, because you’re doing what you always dreamed of doing, then you can’t be unhappy or depressed. But it can happen to anyone. That’s what people need to know.

“So if you’re having a hard time and struggling to cope there’s nothing to be scared of, nothing to be ashamed of in reaching out. Trying to find a solution is the beginning to getting better. You have to talk.

[FoxNotFox]

On 25/11/2018 at 16:20, lifted*fox said:

No amount of encouragement is gonna make it happen today, I'm afraid - even though I know I'd feel better.

Go easy on yourself. You don't have to go for a run. You don't have to do anything if you don't want to - it's your life and you get to choose how to live it.

 

Sit by the radio, drink tea, eat hot buttered crumpets, read a book, whatever.... just take it easy, do whatever but take the pressure off yourself. 

[FoxNotFox]

Quote

Brighton winger opens up on his battle against depression after his father died and he split up with his wife, urging people in similar situations to reach out. ‘You have to talk,’ he says

Well, that made me all teary-eyed.

 

Brave of him to tell his story - and a part of the recovery. To suffer in silence, trying to pretend all is ok, just makes it SO much harder. You've got to talk about it.

[lifted*fox]

2 hours ago, FoxNotFox said:

Go easy on yourself. You don't have to go for a run. You don't have to do anything if you don't want to - it's your life and you get to choose how to live it.

 

Sit by the radio, drink tea, eat hot buttered crumpets, read a book, whatever.... just take it easy, do whatever but take the pressure off yourself. 

 

thanks for the support fella.

 

it's hard because i'm a pretty motivated person so when I go through extended periods of negativity and not wanting to do anything I feel demotivated and annoyed with myself. 

 

not to mention I've been putting off running for a while now and I need to get back on it. you go backwards quickly and I know I've got the inevitable first run disappointment to come where I realise I've let myself down and go backwards because of it! 

[FoxNotFox]

Having expectations of yourself is sometimes a source of stress. I know it is for me.

 

I like my cycling but there are some weeks where I don't do any. I can feel bad about that, beat myself up for being lazy, thinking I 'should' be out. But then I realise that I define my own 'should'. I'm the only person telling myself to go out. Nobody else gives a toss. And sometimes that's enough to make me smile and put my cycling gear on. Other times not so.

 

Sometimes the weeks off have become months. But you know, my first ride back after a short break is always enjoyable, always reminds me why I do it. It's even worth having a break from time to time just to rediscover the joy. The fitness aspect comes back so I don't worry about that.  

 

Exercise, they say, lifts your spirits and is good for depression. I'd agree with that but I think you have to find a balance. If you're not enjoying it or your doing it out of some sense of obligation then you're bound to question the 'why' of it. Simply put, if I don't feel like it (for whatever reason) then I go with that and don't do it. I try not to be hard on myself over that. It's my decision and, as an adult, I'm allowed. 

[urban.spaceman]

Hope this is satisfactory viewing for your anxieties x

 

 

[urban.spaceman]

Starting to make plans for next year. 

 

I am NOT going to **** this up. 

[ozleicester]

19 minutes ago, urban.spaceman said:

Starting to make plans for next year. 

 

I am NOT going to **** this up. 

Good luck, keep in mind to build in some flex to the plans.

[urban.spaceman]

7 minutes ago, ozleicester said:

Good luck, keep in mind to build in some flex to the plans.

I’m kinda drunk;right now so I’ll tryand decipher that to)roorwme and. Reply

 

xxx

[ozleicester]

1 minute ago, urban.spaceman said:

I’m kinda drunk;right now so I’ll tryand decipher that to)roorwme and. Reply

 

xxx

 i jusy know that the world enjoys nothing more than fvcking with peoples plans, so plan for your plans to be fvcked

[brucey]

Had an initial session with a private psychotherapist a few weeks ago. She told me I might be better off seeing a male psychotherapist instead. She's right, but I was surprised and a little impressed that she was that honest in turning down business, given how pricey these sessions are  Though I really can't get the energy together to repeat the life story to yet someone else right now.

[urban.spaceman]

21 hours ago, brucey said:

Had an initial session with a private psychotherapist a few weeks ago. She told me I might be better off seeing a male psychotherapist instead. She's right, but I was surprised and a little impressed that she was that honest in turning down business, given how pricey these sessions are  Though I really can't get the energy together to repeat the life story to yet someone else right now.

That was very professional of her - more interested in your care rather than earning a few bob. 

[urban.spaceman]

In a bit of a quandary. (Love that word)

 

I’m currently working part time (mostly Saturdays, often whole weekends) as a carer for a guy with autism. I told myself that it was only for a little while as I’d just come home from New Zealand and was struggling to find work full time elsewhere. That was 6 years ago. I’ve struggled with depression in that time; I had a double whammy of bereavements of family members having long term illnesses preceding their deaths; both times I was one of the main carers in a pretty large family. I move to Cape Town to do an apprenticeship in my chosen field (video editing) and had a ****ing whale of a time. They offered me a job last year, which was a dream come true. Then they had to retract the job offer for SA visa bollocks, a disappointment I’ve still not quite recovered from. 

 

Anyway, cut to now, I’m still working as a carer for this kid. My dad then gets a call from an old family friend - they’ve got someone who needs a carer part time. So my dad says I’ll do it. I’m barely even given a choice. So the friend contacts the mum of the kid who needs a carer, gives them my phone number, and in the space of one phone call the pushy mum has basically tried to sign me up to working every day for her. Bang goes my plans for this month - contacting this Mental Health Matters as recommended by my doctor, organising a very much needed holiday, trying to figure out how to get a job in video editing in Leicester. I’m supposed to be meeting the mum and kid on Thursday when actually I’d just agreed to it as a courtesy for a family friend. I already find working with my current lad extremely hard work - it’s seriously emotionally draining to have to adapt your personality to someone’s needs. 

 

Most of all I don’t want to still be here in another 6 years more depressed than ever. I don’t really want to start working with another kid when I’ve got ambitions elsewhere. I don’t know how to get this across to anyone. I don’t know how to tell them that I’m sort of fighting for my life here and I can’t derail my plans any more. 

 

Add to this I’m deprived of sleep and I’ve now been roped in to driving halfway across the country this evening without much choice and at the cost of my evening plans. 

 

Thoroughly fed up to be honest. 

[Izzy]

17 minutes ago, urban.spaceman said:

In a bit of a quandary. (Love that word)

 

I’m currently working part time (mostly Saturdays, often whole weekends) as a carer for a guy with autism. I told myself that it was only for a little while as I’d just come home from New Zealand and was struggling to find work full time elsewhere. That was 6 years ago. I’ve struggled with depression in that time; I had a double whammy of bereavements of family members having long term illnesses preceding their deaths; both times I was one of the main carers in a pretty large family. I move to Cape Town to do an apprenticeship in my chosen field (video editing) and had a ****ing whale of a time. They offered me a job last year, which was a dream come true. Then they had to retract the job offer for SA visa bollocks, a disappointment I’ve still not quite recovered from. 

 

Anyway, cut to now, I’m still working as a carer for this kid. My dad then gets a call from an old family friend - they’ve got someone who needs a carer part time. So my dad says I’ll do it. I’m barely even given a choice. So the friend contacts the mum of the kid who needs a carer, gives them my phone number, and in the space of one phone call the pushy mum has basically tried to sign me up to working every day for her. Bang goes my plans for this month - contacting this Mental Health Matters as recommended by my doctor, organising a very much needed holiday, trying to figure out how to get a job in video editing in Leicester. I’m supposed to be meeting the mum and kid on Thursday when actually I’d just agreed to it as a courtesy for a family friend. I already find working with my current lad extremely hard work - it’s seriously emotionally draining to have to adapt your personality to someone’s needs. 

 

Most of all I don’t want to still be here in another 6 years more depressed than ever. I don’t really want to start working with another kid when I’ve got ambitions elsewhere. I don’t know how to get this across to anyone. I don’t know how to tell them that I’m sort of fighting for my life here and I can’t derail my plans any more. 

 

Add to this I’m deprived of sleep and I’ve now been roped in to driving halfway across the country this evening without much choice and at the cost of my evening plans. 

 

Thoroughly fed up to be honest. 

Mate, to be frank, I think people may be taking the piss out of you.

 

Since when did you give your Dad permission to make work decisions for you? You’re not legally contracted to do this extra care work are you? - you can politely decline and say no.

 

There are other carers out there you know, so why do you need to take this on if you don’t want to?

 

Get it across in your own words in a non emotive, adult, factual way. No one needs to know your reasons and no ones holding a gun to your head.

 

You’ve done an amazing job over the last six years despite having your own issues to deal with - you don’t owe anybody anything.

 

Its your life so live it on your terms. Stand up for yourself and maybe put yourself first for a change. 

[HighPeakFox]

26 minutes ago, urban.spaceman said:

In a bit of a quandary. (Love that word)

I think @Izzy Muzzett has hit the nail on the head here, but also what you said shines a light on your depression too. It sounds as though (and I say this with total empathy, because I've been there) one of the causes of your condition might be that others make decisions for you, or 'think' for you, or assume on your behalf, or co=opt your assent. These things are very disempowering, and have to be addressed, because otherwise, they will just continue. You know what they say about madness - doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome? It's time to break the pattern.

[egg_fried_rice]

1 hour ago, urban.spaceman said:

In a bit of a quandary. (Love that word)

 

I’m currently working part time (mostly Saturdays, often whole weekends) as a carer for a guy with autism. I told myself that it was only for a little while as I’d just come home from New Zealand and was struggling to find work full time elsewhere. That was 6 years ago. I’ve struggled with depression in that time; I had a double whammy of bereavements of family members having long term illnesses preceding their deaths; both times I was one of the main carers in a pretty large family. I move to Cape Town to do an apprenticeship in my chosen field (video editing) and had a ****ing whale of a time. They offered me a job last year, which was a dream come true. Then they had to retract the job offer for SA visa bollocks, a disappointment I’ve still not quite recovered from. 

 

Anyway, cut to now, I’m still working as a carer for this kid. My dad then gets a call from an old family friend - they’ve got someone who needs a carer part time. So my dad says I’ll do it. I’m barely even given a choice. So the friend contacts the mum of the kid who needs a carer, gives them my phone number, and in the space of one phone call the pushy mum has basically tried to sign me up to working every day for her. Bang goes my plans for this month - contacting this Mental Health Matters as recommended by my doctor, organising a very much needed holiday, trying to figure out how to get a job in video editing in Leicester. I’m supposed to be meeting the mum and kid on Thursday when actually I’d just agreed to it as a courtesy for a family friend. I already find working with my current lad extremely hard work - it’s seriously emotionally draining to have to adapt your personality to someone’s needs. 

 

Most of all I don’t want to still be here in another 6 years more depressed than ever. I don’t really want to start working with another kid when I’ve got ambitions elsewhere. I don’t know how to get this across to anyone. I don’t know how to tell them that I’m sort of fighting for my life here and I can’t derail my plans any more. 

 

Add to this I’m deprived of sleep and I’ve now been roped in to driving halfway across the country this evening without much choice and at the cost of my evening plans. 

 

Thoroughly fed up to be honest. 

Hi Mate.

 

Sorry to read that your struggling at the moment. I think given the knocks you've taken over the past few years it's only normal to get down about it - obviously it's when that becomes your permanent state does it become more of a problem.

 

Over the course of the last few years, one of the most important lessons I've learned is finding my boundaries and sticking to them. It makes such a difference to my mental health. I'd imagine that your father's heart was in the right place when he volunteered you for the additional caring duties, but it was absolutely not his prerogative to do so. It sounds like you're a bit of a people-pleaser - not a bad trait as such, but it can be taken advantage of by others either intentionally or unintentionally. They sense they can make you bend to their will with a few choice words and maybe a bit of guilt-tripping. You wrote that you 'adapt your personality to someone’s needs' - can I ask why you feel you should do this? Is it not ok to be yourself? Why shouldn't they be the ones adapting to you?

 

You had plans for this month and really positive sounding ones at that - proactive steps in caring for your mental health is a must for anyone, a holiday can be a good chance to reset, and looking for a role in a field you're interested in sounds great! You don't need to change them for anyone whether they're a family member or friend or not. Learning to say no can be really difficult, but establishing boundaries is crucial to maintaining a good state of mind.

 

You've written very clearly what you really think about this, only meeting them as a courtesy. Your reasons for not doing it are also sound, but quite frankly it wouldn't matter if they weren't; even if it was as simple as 'I don't want to' that would be enough. The word 'selfish' has some bad connotations, but sometimes we must be exactly that in order to be our best selves. If I was in your position I would contact your father and family friend and say something along the lines of 'I can't take on this extra responsibility right now'. If possible, try to avoid apologising and offering reasons why as this will only give them a chance to try and convince you otherwise. They can get angry, call you names (although they probably won't) but you can't control how they react. Their welfare is not your responsibility - only yours is. A sleep deprived trek across the country sounds rubbish mate.

 

The paragraph in bold is important. You have clearly written what your plans for the future are - you have a strong mind beneath it all. I'm really sorry you feel like you're fighting for your life at the moment - I'd strongly urge you to say exactly what you've written there to a loved one or close friend. Mostly people react surprisingly well and with great compassion to this type of thing. If they don't or you feel unable to express yourself to them, there are some great charities out there who offer free anonymous support lines - MIND & Calm to name just a couple. Sometimes it's easier to unload on a stranger, particularly ones who are trained to listen and support.

 

Whatever actions you choose, I wish you the best. Even if it's just venting in this tread it's definitely better than keeping it all inside. Take care.

 

 

Edited 4 December 2018 by egg_fried_rice

[Buce]

29 minutes ago, urban.spaceman said:

In a bit of a quandary. (Love that word)

 

I’m currently working part time (mostly Saturdays, often whole weekends) as a carer for a guy with autism. I told myself that it was only for a little while as I’d just come home from New Zealand and was struggling to find work full time elsewhere. That was 6 years ago. I’ve struggled with depression in that time; I had a double whammy of bereavements of family members having long term illnesses preceding their deaths; both times I was one of the main carers in a pretty large family. I move to Cape Town to do an apprenticeship in my chosen field (video editing) and had a ****ing whale of a time. They offered me a job last year, which was a dream come true. Then they had to retract the job offer for SA visa bollocks, a disappointment I’ve still not quite recovered from. 

 

Anyway, cut to now, I’m still working as a carer for this kid. My dad then gets a call from an old family friend - they’ve got someone who needs a carer part time. So my dad says I’ll do it. I’m barely even given a choice. So the friend contacts the mum of the kid who needs a carer, gives them my phone number, and in the space of one phone call the pushy mum has basically tried to sign me up to working every day for her. Bang goes my plans for this month - contacting this Mental Health Matters as recommended by my doctor, organising a very much needed holiday, trying to figure out how to get a job in video editing in Leicester. I’m supposed to be meeting the mum and kid on Thursday when actually I’d just agreed to it as a courtesy for a family friend. I already find working with my current lad extremely hard work - it’s seriously emotionally draining to have to adapt your personality to someone’s needs. 

 

Most of all I don’t want to still be here in another 6 years more depressed than ever. I don’t really want to start working with another kid when I’ve got ambitions elsewhere. I don’t know how to get this across to anyone. I don’t know how to tell them that I’m sort of fighting for my life here and I can’t derail my plans any more. 

 

Add to this I’m deprived of sleep and I’ve now been roped in to driving halfway across the country this evening without much choice and at the cost of my evening plans. 

 

Thoroughly fed up to be honest. 

 

Mate, you shouldn't be beating yourself up over this - it really is ok to be selfish sometimes.

 

You need to consider your own needs and desires first and foremost. I have no idea what your relationship with your father is like but he seems to have behaved appallingly here. If it means embarrassing him, so be it, but my advice is to be completely frank with all concerned and don't allow yourself to be railroaded into something which you're going to regret.

 

As ever, we're all here for you, and if you want a private chat, I'm available and willing.

[FoxNotFox]

38 minutes ago, Buce said:

it really is ok to be selfish sometimes.

And sometimes it's essential.

[Crinklyfox]

1 hour ago, urban.spaceman said:

In a bit of a quandary. (Love that word)

 

I’m currently working part time (mostly Saturdays, often whole weekends) as a carer for a guy with autism. I told myself that it was only for a little while as I’d just come home from New Zealand and was struggling to find work full time elsewhere. That was 6 years ago. I’ve struggled with depression in that time; I had a double whammy of bereavements of family members having long term illnesses preceding their deaths; both times I was one of the main carers in a pretty large family. I move to Cape Town to do an apprenticeship in my chosen field (video editing) and had a ****ing whale of a time. They offered me a job last year, which was a dream come true. Then they had to retract the job offer for SA visa bollocks, a disappointment I’ve still not quite recovered from. 

 

Anyway, cut to now, I’m still working as a carer for this kid. My dad then gets a call from an old family friend - they’ve got someone who needs a carer part time. So my dad says I’ll do it. I’m barely even given a choice. So the friend contacts the mum of the kid who needs a carer, gives them my phone number, and in the space of one phone call the pushy mum has basically tried to sign me up to working every day for her. Bang goes my plans for this month - contacting this Mental Health Matters as recommended by my doctor, organising a very much needed holiday, trying to figure out how to get a job in video editing in Leicester. I’m supposed to be meeting the mum and kid on Thursday when actually I’d just agreed to it as a courtesy for a family friend. I already find working with my current lad extremely hard work - it’s seriously emotionally draining to have to adapt your personality to someone’s needs. 

 

Most of all I don’t want to still be here in another 6 years more depressed than ever. I don’t really want to start working with another kid when I’ve got ambitions elsewhere. I don’t know how to get this across to anyone. I don’t know how to tell them that I’m sort of fighting for my life here and I can’t derail my plans any more. 

 

Add to this I’m deprived of sleep and I’ve now been roped in to driving halfway across the country this evening without much choice and at the cost of my evening plans. 

 

Thoroughly fed up to be honest. 

When someone is suffering from depression, work can be a distraction or add to the pressure, it just depends on the source of the depression.

 

I read your post as saying that your work is a burden.  That doesn't mean you hate it but you have to give your energies to it and that leaves you less able to deal with the rest of life's issues.  Another job is just more burden and no-one who has your best interests at heart would push you that way if they understood what it would do to you.

 

We all have our limits, it's not a weakness but a strength to recognise them and act accordingly.  

 

Your quandary may be that you don't want your parents to feel let down and you don't want their friends to feel let down whilst in your heart you know that if you take this job you'll be letting yourself down.  And the end result would most likely be that you don't give enough to your current job, your additional job, or yourself.  And nobody wins in that scenario.

[urban.spaceman]

@Izzy Muzzett

@HighPeakFox

@egg_fried_rice

@Buce

@FoxNotFox

@Crinklyfox

 

You're all heroes and I thank you for your imput, understanding and advice. I plan to reply to each of you more directly when I feel stronger to do so.

 

THANK YOU X

[Shane]

Firstly, a quick thank you to Leicester City for the 15/16 season and CL run which gave me the happiest memories of my life.

 

Anyway reality struck me recently, a reality I’ve been hiding from. A letter from student finance outlining I have £41,000 in student loan debt still to be paid. This has tipped me over the edge.

 

I never wanted to go to University, I didn’t know what I wanted to do at aged 18, I still felt like a kid. I was young, foolish and was talked into it by teachers and my parents. I just wanted to make them happy, so I went.

 

Now I feel more depressed then ever, lost, hopeless, wondering where does it all end. A 41,00 pound bill before even saving for things like a car, a house, or living the life I want like going travelling or starting my own business. 

 

I saved £10,000 this year but it feels like nothing in comparison to the above and the end goal feels like a distant dream. I’ve been unemployed since September, with no willpower and struggling to sleep. 

 

Been lurking this thread for a while and felt this was the best place to let it all out because I’m not in a good place right now. 

Edited 4 December 2018 by Shane

[FoxesDeb]

10 minutes ago, Shane said:

Firstly, a quick thank you to Leicester City for the 15/16 season and CL run which gave me the happiest memories of my life.

 

Anyway reality struck me recently, a reality I’ve been hiding from. A letter from student finance outlining I have £41,000 in student loan debt still to be paid. This has tipped me over the edge.

 

I never wanted to go to University, I didn’t know what I wanted to do at aged 18, I still felt like a kid. I was young, foolish and was talked into it by teachers and my parents. I just wanted to make them happy, so I went.

 

Now I feel more depressed then ever, lost, hopeless, wondering where does it all end. A 41,00 pound bill before even saving for things like a car, a house, or living the life I want like going travelling or starting my own business. 

 

I saved £10,000 this year but it feels like nothing in comparison to the above and the end goal feels like a distant dream. I’ve been unemployed since September, with no willpower and struggling to sleep. 

 

Been lurking this thread for a while and felt this was the best place to let it all out because I’m not in a good place right now. 

I'm really rubbish with advice and somebody helpful will be along in a bit, but I just couldn't read and not reply. 

It's good that you've felt able to talk here, you probably already know that this can be a great place for support. 

I don't know much about student debt but I don't think you need to worry about paying it back until you're earning a decent salary, I hope that's correct. 

Have you talked to your parents about the way you feel? As a parent myself, I think children forget that we're here to help, and we're really not as out of touch as you might think. Is opening up to them a possibility? 

[Izzy]

My health (or lack of) is really getting me down, and there's nothing I can do about it.

 

The frustration of not being 'normal' is constantly gnawing away at me and it's wearing me down.

 

Most night's I'm up needing the loo and I never get a proper nights kip. I had a crazy early start and important meeting in London this morning on the back of next to no sleep, and I could hardly function. If I'm ever out of the house for long periods of time, I practically have to starve myself to avoid constant toilet trips. This in turn gives me no energy and then I nearly fall asleep driving because I'm so tired.

 

I try to do the right things. Joining the gym has helped and so has cutting out the drink, but I'll never be normal. The injections I give myself for my Crohn's disease leave me lethargic and I'm constantly dosed up full of codeine to slow my system down. The pisser is that I'm been on anti-depressants in the past and had tons of therapy and I understand myself and my thoughts very well. It's not really a mental illness but my physical restrictions make it mentally draining (if that makes sense?)

 

I constantly tell myself I'm lucky to be alive and to be grateful for what I've got. My original surgery in '04 was an emergency procedure to remove my large intestine as it was so ulcerated it would have perforated and killed me. Since then I've had to make many adjustments but I just wish I could turn the clock back and be normal like everyone else.

 

I don't need advice or sympathy and I don't even know why I'm posting this. I'm just so fvcking angry and frustrated that I can't live a normal life. I can't explain how depressing it is that my life revolves around where the nearest WC is and it's constantly on my mind every minute of the day. The only thing that keeps me going is my kids and my constant admiration for those who are severely disabled and still find the courage to lead a happy life. There's always someone worse off than us I guess...

 

I really envy those of you who have your full health and can live a normal life. Never ever take it for granted..

[Buce]

16 minutes ago, Izzy Muzzett said:

My health (or lack of) is really getting me down, and there's nothing I can do about it.

 

The frustration of not being 'normal' is constantly gnawing away at me and it's wearing me down.

 

Most night's I'm up needing the loo and I never get a proper nights kip. I had a crazy early start and important meeting in London this morning on the back of next to no sleep, and I could hardly function. If I'm ever out of the house for long periods of time, I practically have to starve myself to avoid constant toilet trips. This in turn gives me no energy and then I nearly fall asleep driving because I'm so tired.

 

I try to do the right things. Joining the gym has helped and so has cutting out the drink, but I'll never be normal. The injections I give myself for my Crohn's disease leave me lethargic and I'm constantly dosed up full of codeine to slow my system down. The pisser is that I'm been on anti-depressants in the past and had tons of therapy and I understand myself and my thoughts very well. It's not really a mental illness but my physical restrictions make it mentally draining (if that makes sense?)

 

I constantly tell myself I'm lucky to be alive and to be grateful for what I've got. My original surgery in '04 was an emergency procedure to remove my large intestine as it was so ulcerated it would have perforated and killed me. Since then I've had to make many adjustments but I just wish I could turn the clock back and be normal like everyone else.

 

I don't need advice or sympathy and I don't even know why I'm posting this. I'm just so fvcking angry and frustrated that I can't live a normal life. I can't explain how depressing it is that my life revolves around where the nearest WC is and it's constantly on my mind every minute of the day. The only thing that keeps me going is my kids and my constant admiration for those who are severely disabled and still find the courage to lead a happy life. There's always someone worse off than us I guess...

 

I really envy those of you who have your full health and can live a normal life. Never ever take it for granted..

 

Love you, bro.

[FoxesDeb]

17 minutes ago, Izzy Muzzett said:

My health (or lack of) is really getting me down, and there's nothing I can do about it.

 

The frustration of not being 'normal' is constantly gnawing away at me and it's wearing me down.

 

Most night's I'm up needing the loo and I never get a proper nights kip. I had a crazy early start and important meeting in London this morning on the back of next to no sleep, and I could hardly function. If I'm ever out of the house for long periods of time, I practically have to starve myself to avoid constant toilet trips. This in turn gives me no energy and then I nearly fall asleep driving because I'm so tired.

 

I try to do the right things. Joining the gym has helped and so has cutting out the drink, but I'll never be normal. The injections I give myself for my Crohn's disease leave me lethargic and I'm constantly dosed up full of codeine to slow my system down. The pisser is that I'm been on anti-depressants in the past and had tons of therapy and I understand myself and my thoughts very well. It's not really a mental illness but my physical restrictions make it mentally draining (if that makes sense?)

 

I constantly tell myself I'm lucky to be alive and to be grateful for what I've got. My original surgery in '04 was an emergency procedure to remove my large intestine as it was so ulcerated it would have perforated and killed me. Since then I've had to make many adjustments but I just wish I could turn the clock back and be normal like everyone else.

 

I don't need advice or sympathy and I don't even know why I'm posting this. I'm just so fvcking angry and frustrated that I can't live a normal life. I can't explain how depressing it is that my life revolves around where the nearest WC is and it's constantly on my mind every minute of the day. The only thing that keeps me going is my kids and my constant admiration for those who are severely disabled and still find the courage to lead a happy life. There's always someone worse off than us I guess...

 

I really envy those of you who have your full health and can live a normal life. Never ever take it for granted..

This is absolutely no consolation for what you're going through, but I honestly mean it when I say that you are an inspiration, and an important person in my life. 

I know that sounds completely ridiculous, and trite, but it's true. 

I spend far too much time here, and I feel like some of us are friends, even when we haven't met. I look forward to your posts, and I even laugh at your jokes! 

I realise that I can't possibly ever compare to the legend that is @lifted*fox, but if you ever need to chat offline I'm here. As are many of us I guess.

What I'm trying to say is that lots of us love you and we're here to help if we can xx