Depression, anxiety, bereavement and hypothyroidism.

I want to tell someone my story and this seems as good a place as any. Looking back over my 38 years, I realised that I have always suffered from depression, I just didn't know what it was. When I was at university, I would sleep the clock round, hiding under the duvet for days. I came home during one of the breaks and it must have been obvious to my parents that I was depressed, because they took me on holiday to "cheer me up". In my third year my parents were having some marital difficulties and I was abroad for the year. I couldn't cope with the possibility of my family falling apart and I wasn't there for them and that has been the pattern ever since. I passed my degree (I could have done better, had I known what I know now) and got a good job "back home". I excelled at my first job, but it wasn't really what I wanted to be doing, so I got a job in a Solicitors (putting my law degree to some use). I bought a house, met a lovely man from Ireland and got engaged. Under pressure from family and my dead nanna (don't ask), I qualified and was forced to leave the firm I was comfortable in to progress. The hours were long, the pressure was ridiculous and the responsibility bore down on me too hard. Around this time my dad fell ill, with 3 suspected heart attacks in a row. I had to change jobs again to be closer to home. My then fiance was offered a fabulous job in Ireland and decided to go back. The pressure of organising a wedding, long term relationship, dad being sick and the immense pressure I felt I was under in work made me crumble and I had my first lot of counselling. It was so straightforward. Look at what is bothering you, do what you can to resolve it. Dad had a diagnosis at this point, polymyositis, and he was getting treatment. Things were looking better. The wedding was pretty much organised (or so I thought) and so I upped and moved to Ireland. In September 2007, just before the recession hit, my fiance bought an apartment and we had great jobs and great friends, everything was rosy again. I took a step down and away from the responsibility and became a legal secretary. The money was the same but there was no pressure and I was happy and aside from worrying about dad, virtually stress fee. Cue the recession. I found out I was pregnant the day my husband found out he was being made redundant from his job. I had twins. I had to go back to work (much to the dissapointment of my parents who thought a woman's place was in the home) and leave my babies with my husband, who was by now depressed himself. I went back to counselling. NLP and CBT. I got on great with the counsellor and she is now a very good friend of mine. It helped me deal with some frustrations, but the depression was still there. I decided to get fit. I lost a ton of weight, got addicted to exercise, put my name down for a half marathon and I was high on life. Except my marriage was falling apart. I didn't want to work, he didn't want to be at home, we resented each other. I would come in from work, see the kids, then go back out to "class". In January 2014 I hurt my knee, things had turned sour in work due to the recession, so I was unhappy and looking for a new job. We were seriously outgrowing the apartment. My mum was sick. My dad wasn't great either. The pressure was mounting again and I had no release for it, as I couldn't exercise. I had a breakdown. I finally went to the doctor and she gave me antidepressents. I went back to counselling, but this time it was different, so I tried a different counsellor, who put things in perspective and taught me about moderation. My knee healed and I was able to run again, I started feeling better and came off the anti-depressents, gradually and in September 2014 I ran the half marathon. I didn't know it at the time but I was pregnant. I lost the babies (twins again) in October, the same month when my dad got diagnosed with pulmonary hypertension, and given a life expectancy of 2 years. This time the depression hit really hard. I thought I had hit rock bottom, then they found a shadow on my dad's lung, cancer. It hung over us over Christmas 2014. Back to the doctors, different tablets. Back to counselling, which didn't help, just dredged up more things for me to obsess over and lie awake thinking about. I wasn't sleeping, my thyroid was all over the place. I was drinking too much, eating too much and I had stopped exercising. I woke up one Sunday, convinced that my friends were meeting me for coffee. I was looking forward to it. I message them and convinced myself they didn't want to come to meet me. I stormed off in a rage (I don't know where this came from) and halfway to the beach, where they were waiting for me, I convinced myself that I was the worse friend/wife/mother in the world and that everyone would be better off without me. I sat on the beach for 40 minutes trying to think of a way to kill myself without looking like I wanted to kill myself (I didn't want my family to think I had done it on purpose). I decided the best way was to put myself in harms way. I walked the tiny backroads of my village, dressed in black, hoping that I would get run over or killed by a passing murderer). I came to a fork in the road. Carry on down this path or head for the church where my babies were baptised and call for help. Luckily this was the path I chose and my husband was there within minutes. He took me to the doctor the next day, who referred me to the psych unit. More medications, sleeping tablets and good sleeping habits were prescribed. I didn't get any better, but I wasn't any worse. Then my dad died in March 2016. I am all over the place. I don't know what is grief, what is depression, can I feel the grief through the tablets, should I get help, I feel like screaming. I don't know whether I am coming or going, I can't do my job properly, I pity my poor kids and my husband. I watched Meet the Fokkers last night and sobbed my heart out. My friends are being great, they are trying to rouse me out of this funk I'm in, but I am quite happy wallowing here in my unhappiness. I know what I need to do, I just need a kick up the bum to get me started. Answers on a postcard please. Sorry for the length of this post.