So what's changed?
Well, I suppose the feeling that in the interests of honesty and of finally and completely facing my demons I should. Perhaps we never utterly face our demons but I can have a damn good try. Maybe it will be cathartic, maybe it won't, I can't know that until afterwards but it is relevant in some respects to what has been happening in my life more recently and recent news about someone who is very brave has given me a little courage to go for it now.
My difficulty in blogging this was borne from a number of things, mostly just simply that I don't like to think about it in too much detail anymore but also because it has had such a profound effect on my life. Like many things we don't understand it scares us and sadly it still invites prejudice, I think that is now lessening considerably but believe me, in the past I have suffered that prejudice in various forms. Maybe that is why I didn't blog it before, this was one place that wasn't an issue.
So what am I talking about?
Ok, about twenty years ago I 'lost it', lost the plot, freaked out, call it what you will. The laymans term is that I had a 'nervous breakdown' though medically such a diagnosis doesn't exist. It's a coverall phrase for going nuts. My actual diagnosis was chronic severe anxiety/depression, with the emphasis on the anxiety.
I will spare you the details, at least at this stage, but suffice to say it wasn't pretty. I was a complete mess and went from being a professional woman with a career to someone who was so scared of almost everything she couldn't be left alone, couldn't go out, couldn't work, couldn't eat....in essence just couldn't function in any usual sense of the day to day meaning. Ultimately it cost me my career, probably my marriage (thought he shot through without ever giving me a reason), certainly my home, my self esteem, some friends and possibly almost my life.
This was a place you really don't want to be and one I never want to be in again, not ever, for anything or anyone. No way, no how!
I had always been what I think at the time was described as a 'nervy child'. I was asthmatic, had eczema, didn't like going way from home, didn't like being left even at children's parties etc. etc. and looking back I can see a tendency to obsessiveness as far back as age four. Psychiatry of course was in the dark ages and none of this was really recognised by the medical profession, my parents tried to encourage me to 'spread my wings' and it worked in the main though the personality traits of course remain
At nineteen I had a relatively minor 'episode' In actual fact it was only panic attacks and a degree of agoraphobia but even something that simple and accepted now was like rocket science in psychiatric terms in the 1970's. My doctor looked confused, signed me off work for a few weeks and prescribed Valium. Hells bells. Nowadays that seems an outrageous reaction but really, at the time I was lucky I got that much credence given to my situation.
I managed to recover within a few months to a point where life was normal again but to a small degree some of the anxiety related issues remained, I just learned to live my life around them. I got married, bought a house, built a career, all the normal stuff but I had my moments where I knew all was not quite as I would like it to be. Those moments were enough to warrant my trying to get help but again, psychiatry was not what it is today. I had one or two referrals to inappropriate counsellors, one or two spells of medication and one or two spells of a week or two off work but nothing really changed medically.
Fast forward ten years.
High stress job, high stress life and 'BANG' I couldn't keep up the pretense of coping any longer and I hit the wall at full speed, figuratively speaking of course.
In actual fact what I did was just get up from my desk one day, walk out and fall apart. My anxiety levels were unbearable.
It's not a feeling I can describe well and to be honest it's too painful for me too even if I could.... but if you have ever been there you know. I rapidly became completely dysfunctional but still the psychiatric services were found wanting and things had to get a whole lot worse before anything significant in the way of help was offered to me.
And that was it, the next two years of my life were the biggest battle I have ever fought and one there were many times I thought I wouldn't win but I was lucky. I was finally referred to 'Mary', one of only a handful of what was then a new kind of therapist who practiced a particularly extreme form of a then, new treatment CBT.
The harsh version was considered to be worth the risk (it may have worsened my situation if it failed), the gentler way she felt wouldn't work for me and so I was admitted to a psych unit as a day patient (Mon to Fri, 9-5, no it wasn't like a job at all!) for six months and there began the most terrifying and difficult time of my life.
I can't blog the details, it's too painful so instead I will concentrate on the positive aspect here. The fact that against the odd's and to some degree my therapists surprise, I made it. I recovered as far as anyone does....and probably beyond. I learned to live with and around what couldn't be fixed just like anyone with any illness has to and I have accepted I will always have to deal with some degree of anxiety and depression related issues. The difference now is that I know I can.
I once asked 'Mary' how long it would take for me to get better. Her reply was "the rest of your life". At the time I thought that was horrific... but it was true, I still learn everyday, only little tiny things now, not the massive steps of the early days but as each event in life presents itself I learn to deal with that one. I still have setbacks, I always will but they are new opportunities to learn (well that's what I think on the good days, on the bad I hate them and they still scare the crap out of me), I still react to some things with more anxiety than perhaps many do, I still get pretty low and I still have to keep fighting but it's become so much a part of me that I can't imagine it any other way now. There are so many aspects of my life it has affected to some degree, there are so many things I hate about it, the prejudice particularly, and believe me I have suffered the 'does she take sugar' syndrome, I have been refused jobs I am more than capable of because of it and I have had people treat me differently once I have told them but fuck it I did it!
There are other positives too, the whole thing has made me very much who I am now and I think that person is better in many ways than the person I was before, it has taught me how strong I can be when my backs against the wall and it's relevant to the last few years of my life particularly because I know I couldn't have coped with all that has happened without the knowledge and coping strategies I learned when I was so ill. I thought I couldn't get through the last few years intact but I did.
No, I'm not daft enough to say I am glad it happened, of course I'm not, it has made my life very difficult and caused me many losses, I would never wish it on anyone, I really wouldn't, it shaped my life in a way I wouldn't have chosen and I will always have to deal with it in a lesser way...but it has made me, strong, it has I hope made me more understanding and.....it has made me damn proud of me!
There is so much more I could write but I won't though I am happy to field questions on the subject should anyone want to ask one.
Ok, enough already. My head is screwed just typing this but as one who has always fought the fight for acceptance of mental illness ,always made a point of not hiding it in an effort for that to happen and in a tiny way help end the prejudices and aid understanding, I had to blog it eventually.
Really, if you met me in real life you would think I was 'normal'! *tongue in cheek*
There are people with way more serious mental illness than I had and this isn't going to turn into a blog about the subject permanently, in fact I probably won't mention it again. For anyone who is wondering about the title of this post it's a standard coping mechanism, if I say I'm nuts no one else can say it and hurt me....
....and finally, though I'm sure better things could be dedicated to her, this post is dedicated to the one person who was there, saw it all in all it's gory detail, supported me and has maintained that support and friendship ever since, often against the odds! 'J' (known here only as 'anon'), you know who you are but you probably don't know just how much I owe you!
Am I glad that's over!! Back to normal now....
