Taboo—Mental Health

Back in 2012, I was made redundant from an organization I had been with for nearly 10 years. I did not take the redundancy well and felt very bitter and twisted about being ousted! In a matter of weeks, I was not able to leave the house without a full blown panic and anxiety attack. I even feared stupid things like the postman delivering letters, being around people, speaking on the telephone, going food shopping, seeing friends, etc. Within a couple of months, my physical, emotional well-being, and family life were severely affected. I was frogmarched to the GP and was referred to a Mental Health Team. I have always been an open minded type of gal but accepting psychological help seems like I had failed as a person. I was stronger than this. I was just having a hard time and things would get better, right?

I reluctantly attended my first outpatient appointment. Sitting in the waiting room, I looked around at the others waiting with me. I did not belong here! A lot of the other patients clearly had issues which far surpassed my own. For the first time in a long time, I felt like the normal one! Looking back, it was a horrible way of thinking. Goes to show what ignorance can do!

I met with an Occupational Therapist who seemed friendly enough until she started probing my life. I clammed up and felt that she was prying a bit too much. What does a past childhood trauma (over one and a half decades ago) have to do with panic and anxiety attacks now? What became abundantly clear from the appointment? Things from my past were definitely not behind me! The therapist wanted to see me on a weekly basis. She also told me that I will be getting an appointment with a Psychiatrist. Now I'm a double failure!

The psychiatrist appointment was fast approaching and I was really nervous about meeting her. I also kept our appointment a sordid little secret from all except my hubby and mum. I did not want anyone else knowing about it.

The appointment went really well and the Psychiatrist recommended that we try to find a combination of drugs to help. It was from this point on that I really learned the meaning of personal hell! For the next year, we tried a variety of different drugs. A vast majority made me feel worse, even after the suggested three-week minimum. The worse part was the withdrawal symptoms! I had to come off of each drug gradually in order to go onto the next one. I now have a new found respect for anyone tackling substance abuse and wanting to go clean. The physical symptoms were awful—migraines, sickness, fever, shaking etc. It was also during this time that the Psychiatrist recommended that I see a Psychologist for behavioral therapy.

I did not like the Psychologist. I found her to be really demeaning. I also think that she was pretty new to her role. Everything was textbook. Every session, I was given printed out text, graphs, and charts to review. All of our appointments were supposed to inform me that the physical symptoms were not anything to be worried about. I KNOW THEY ARE NOT! I clearly remember one session when she asked me to complete certain tasks which would bring on the same physical symptoms as a panic/anxiety attack. She wanted to show me that it was not a suspected heart attack or a bleed on the brain. I know, alright! I have never thought that my symptoms were anything else other than panic and anxiety! I asked for this part of my treatment to be stopped. I did not feel that it was being beneficial to me and a waste of her time.

Eventually, the psychiatrist found a combination of drugs which worked! There was light at the end of the tunnel! Finally, I started to feel a bit more human! I will be on Sertraline and Mirtazapine for the rest of my life. I am too scared of even considering gradually stopping the drugs and reverting back to those dark and scary days.

I have now been out of therapy for four years and still going strong! If anything, I am also stronger due to going through this awful experience. My psychiatrist and occupational therapist were amazing and I owe them everything.

I am now not afraid or ashamed to talk about my breakdown and how it has made me into the woman I am today. What I did not realize at the time was the stigma attached to being a breakdown survivor! I lost a lot of friends. Attended a family wedding (a huge achievement at the time) and was completely ignored by a majority of my family! Looking back, their reactions were hurtful and ignorant. It also made me realize that I needed to purge my life of the negative people.

Even now, six years since the start of my journey and I am still facing issues! A prospective employer wants an explanation as to why I was not working for three years! I looked into becoming a foster carer and was then informed that they needed to look into my medical history!

I remember one particular incident which will stick with me forever! I was at work when a pregnant colleague was talking about finding childcare. She said that she would not leave her child with anyone on medication for depression, etc. I was instantly enraged! I took her comment really personally as I am a mother of a teenager and am on medication! I felt that she was calling me a worthless mother! I confronted her and she was shocked to know that I am on the type of medication she was talking about! The real ignorance is thinking that you know anything about parenting when the child has not even been born! I really wish that some people would come down from their pearly towers and live a day in someone else's life.

Hi, my name is Annie and I have survived a mental breakdown! I am on medication, I am a functioning mother and wife and I have a letter stating that I am sane. Do you? I am not ashamed of my past. If anything it has shown me how much love my hubby has for me! Think before speaking and why not do a bit of research before jumping to wrong and hurtful conclusions. I reluctantly accepted the help I so clearly needed and I have not looked back. Do not suffer in silence, talk about your feelings and seek the right help for you. YOU ARE NOT ALONE!