'Recovery'

I title this 'Recovery' as anyone who knows me well in terms of my professional views etc I am dubious about this term, but it is what others would describe my current experiences as. Again, anyone close to me will know I have returned to University (at last!) to finish my degree in mental health nursing, its been a long old road here but I think it might have been worth it; I'll let you know in 2019!

It seems a world away in some respects yet just like yesterday in others, that I started this blog. It was back in 2013, which although is 4 years ago, like I say it kind of doesn't seem that long ago but feels like I've lived this sad reality for such a huge part of my life - I suppose I have I just chose not to talk about it. Returning to university has been HUGE for my mental health, it has made me feel valued, intelligent, like I actually have a purpose and I am not completely and utterly useless anymore. I have re-found my passionate for learning and promoting awareness and advocating for those who choose not to discuss their experiences. I can truly say I am really proud of myself and that feels great

However, as usual this big BUT comes in. By spending time at university I get this perception that I am quite well really, that I do manage and by discussing subjects particularly close to my heart/my experiences, I take my care into my own hands and decide to do trivial things like stop my medication. I mean this is something I experience every now and then - I personally feel like things are on the up so it should stop or I give myself a really rational (totally irrational) reason for stopping it and stick with it. Last week I revisited this road in my life and decided my medication wasn't a vital part of my care and the determents (which turned out to be totally irrelevant to me) were way more important. I had been in a conversation that made me certain my meds would make me infertile, there is one thing I want more than to be a Nurse and that is to be a mum. This new information (which I misinterpreted) was completely untrue yet I stopped taken by tablets.

So right now, I am experiencing all kinds of fun (not) that come with me not managing so well. On top of this I've had some health issues, so unlike me I know. Around 12 weeks ago, I experienced what was thought to be a slipped disc, long story short, some right side tingling and numbness as well as pain and a straight gait when I walked meant a referral to a spinal assessment specialist, this was on Thursday. She ordered an urgent MRI for me. This in itself as an experience was pretty horrible and anxiety provoking. On top of this, Urgent makes me feel funny inside, now normally I would say this is because i'm young, or because they really have no idea what's going on or they just don't really want me pestering their services anymore, however anxious, nervous, jittery me is convinced this is because there is something really wrong that they don't want to tell me. This thought battles the other. I list my deficits and realise I am already chronically ill at 22, so why not add another condition to that list. Equally as terrifying is the notion that there will be nothing to be found, it will be the 'its in your head' game, which probably fucks with me more than having something wrong. What a catch 22. So with this going on and me making the ingenious decision to self manage my meds i'm suddenly really struggling with my anxiety.

I always write these posts when things aren't great, but I feel that's the best way to show and explain these experiences to people who either want to know or people who want someone to connect with. I am extremely wound up about my body, my weight, my looks, the way my clothes fit, the way my boobs sit, the way my stomach looks in the bath, the way that I feel when I eat food. I am well enough to talk about this and to rationalise it, which in some ways is really great and I can see for myself I am managing it. However it does set me up for some horrible shaking, crying, sweating and general on edge feeling pretty much 80% of the time, the 20% is probably when I am asleep, but even then bad dreams intercept with that. Physically my chest is sore, I feel like I am on the edge of a panic attack all the time and that I can't focus or concentrate on meaningful tasks. Not to mention how damn tiring everything is. Oh and that people just really don't understand anxiety, that feeling that I want to be alone but I don't want to be? I want someone to be with me but not. My head is a bit of a mess really.

I await my back results, it will be around 2 weeks. And as a few know health tests etc really peak my anxiety so the next two weeks will be interesting to say the least. However as usual, putting it all down here has made me feel light as a feather for a while.

Word from the wise, and a word to future me - Don't self manage your meds....Everything was going quite nicely, in the grand scheme of things....

xxx

'I'm fine'

I read a post that inspired me I guess. It's about this idea that we say 'I'm fine' when we aren't, and I am so so guilty of this. Too often because I cannot explain my feelings or I simply don't want to share I answer that I'm fine. The moment you admit you aren't fine people either wish they had never asked or want to delve into why and fix it. Someone's not being okay is okay, you don't need to fix me because I'm not okay in that moment.

This leads me to yesterday. Yesterday I had my occupational health assessment for my return to uni. Although I knew my health was still an issue I was kind of positive that things would be ok, but secretly positive. I was very wrong. I am beyond heartbroken and in a place of complete confusion, denial and emotional mess. I am unfit to return to my training right now and I don't know when or what will happen now. Uncertainty is not my friend.

Despite being asked a million times and wanting to curl in a ball and cry, when I asked how I felt, I continued to say 'I'm fine' or humour my disappointment. But it's okay to not be fine, and I'm not. And this is the easiest way to admit that. I am not okay, I am devastated. I feel like I'm failing, I've lost hope and I feel broken. I'm frustrated that no one can help me or fix me, that I'm an unknown case, I'm scared that my life is always going to orbit around my health - and that that health is always going to be unknown. It's embarrassing to suffer from a chronic illness that has no name and just symptoms, something people cannot identify with or even begin understand, it's humiliating, every single day of my life I am humiliated at the amount of pain I am in and how incapable I am when I am only 22. It's shameful. And I am ashamed. I cannot stop those feelings and right now they are intensified and validated by my inability to return to my dream. It's crushing watching your dreams fall away from you whilst watching other succeed, falling behind whilst others build their careers and lives.

I needed to get this out of my head, before it breaks me even more. I know it's unhealthy to keep things inside but its so hard to talk about something that crushes you. Despite my facade I am sad right now, very sad. I am not 'fine'.

Monday 15th August

Monday 15th August.
I feel I'm in a place to get it off my chest and share. I always vowed I would talk about my experiences to help others and to help the stigma. This day was probably the first day in my life where I genuinely believed I wouldn't see the end of it.

I remember the Friday before feeling not quite right, I visited my doctor to discuss everything I wrote about in my previous post. The paranoia, the feeling as though someone was with me, the seeing someone that no one else could see. As expected my medication was simply increased - however this does take 4 weeks or so to take effect. It was a case of trying to manage my stress/avoid unnecessary stress to keep me level headed. But paranoia creates stress, something which is so infuriating and so hard to grasp for people who don't understand what endless paranoia is like. It's stressful feeling like you're never alone, it's scary to feel eyes on you all the time, from walking down the street and into shops to sitting alone on my bed. Someone was always watching, sometimes real people, sometimes just a presence. But the whole feeling in itself is unnerving.


It's known to those close to me my paranoid personality is very curious, very suspicious. People around me know I'm...well I guess you'd say sensitive when I am in this frame of mind. I feel kind of victimised, I hate to use that word but it's the only way I feel I can convey my true feeling. It's as if everyone and everything is against me. I am suspicious of friends and family alike, that there is bad word about me between them or bad feeling, that people are disappointed or dislike me, I can't put my finger on why but I feel it so intensely. The person who suffers the most at these times is probably Tom. I become obsessed with the idea of him hiding things or lying to me. It gets hard to rationalise what is real and what is in my head. A third party to this didn't help matters but that's something I don't want to go into.

Monday 15th August
 I was sat unknowingly as to what was coming. Thinking about my life and how much I truly hated it. Thinking I am so disappointed in where I am, I was so deflated and feel essentially worthless. Feeling completely at the hands of my paranoia, a total loss of control and a general air of self hate. My self esteem has never been high nor my confidence and I was really kicking myself. I in fact left my call early to go home and have a little sob about how rubbish I felt.

Anyway, feeling as though everything was taking a downward turn so quickly, I raided every cupboard in the house. I could find a measly packet of paracetamol. I have never felt so sure in my life about anything, I was distraught that there was not enough to end it all. I didn't have anything strong enough to finish my life for good and stop all this bad feeling. I was screaming for there to be more, why was there not more? Why was there nothing stronger? I felt like I was losing control of my moment to take control. How ironic. I wanted to stop feeling. Just stop feeling everything. I sometimes still wish I had managed to stop feeling. Truly it is a curse to feel so deeply, to have such a thin emotional skin is going to prove to be fatal - well I mean it nearly was.

Many people will say how selfish or how silly. But in a moment of madness and uncertainty I felt such clarity that now was the time for it to all stop. This was it, I was strangely content with the thought of not seeing the light of day again.

I guess I could say I'm lucky that Tom walked in at a perfect moment, finding me hysterically crying with pills on our bed. Being begged by someone you love to not hurt yourself is a strange experience. There is strangely serenity in the idea of death when you feel so much. It's strange to understand I guess.

I went to hospital and was offered meds to calm me - just to note, they were ineffective - I was also offered time in a crisis house and support from the crisis team. However I didn't feel safe without Tom at my side, I took the help at home instead.

I think it's important to write these experiences down, not only so I can read them again and think about where I've come from and how far, but also to others. People who don't realise how thin an emotional skin can be. One little comment or niggle can send someone already fighting into oblivion. I mean, in my case it was an over exaggeration and imagination on my part as well as a helping hand from someone who thought they were doing the right thing - to clarify, they weren't. But don't forget that your words have so much weight and resonate with people more than you know.

Although much better now, I think everyday is still hard. I'm still doubtful and I'm still struggling with various aspects of life. I'm still suspicious and paranoid, but that is something I am having to manage by sharing my thoughts. It's scary to do that, to open up about the tricks your mind seems to be playing on you but it does help. Saying things out loud, even to yourself can bring you back to earth, it can help you to rationalise your thinking process and approach it appropriately. Keeping it all in is like breeding a disease in your mind - it's slowly killing you.

Paranoid recluse

I feel as though I'm writing my first post again, genuinely a little terrified to publish and admit to my state recently. I've written this post over a few weeks. There's a lot to admit to and consider about posting within this. Most people around me, except Tom truly know the struggles of life in the past few months. It's a long post so hang in there!

I've had a play around with medication, I'm back on the first ever meds I took when I was 18, as much as I want to say my new experiences are medication related and I truly pray they are I guess I won't know until it either goes or until I stop the meds.

One major perk is my loss of appetite, I don't eat meals frequently and the 2 stone gained fell away from me, this is something I can be truly thrilled with - there is no feeling like weight dropping away from you. Being able to feel yourself smaller, being able to see fat drop off, it's exhilarating. Which might sound odd but I can't deny it.

However recently I have had the unfortunate luck of experiencing paranoia to a whole new level. I would tell anyone talking about mental health never to be ashamed of their experience, it all matters and it is a part of who you are. But right now I feel that shame, the paranoia is uncontrollable. I feel as though I am forever watched, that I'm never truly alone. I constantly look over my shoulder or out of the corner of my eye as I can feel that someone is there. It's a horrible and strange experience to explain - it is not a spirit, not a ghost. Most definitely there is someone here, I know because I can see her sometimes. That's terrifying. And even more terrifying to admit out loud, people will mock and poke fun at me for admitting it, I'm sure it will be used against me in insults or used to ridicule me. But when I started this blog, it was under the pretence of helping people understand mental health and helping others feel less alone with their challenges.

Alongside the normal paranoia is the health anxiety which is still pretty prominent. I don't think a day goes by where I don't feel unwell, which at 21 is completely unnatural. I could sleep all day and still sleep at night, my days consist of working and napping. I feel so physically exhausted all the time, it's so difficult to convey to other people that it's not laziness, I just feel as though I can't physically do anything else.  I constantly worry there is more to feeling this way than just probable meds side effects.

With all of this it can feel quite lonely. I don't mean that in a sense of pointing fingers at friends and family. It's just things I feel I can't talk about as people don't understand. Instead I stew on it alone. In fact I'm blessed to have someone in my life who knows when I am unsettled or paranoid, someone who is so in tune it sometimes makes the world of difference. Sometimes though, despite this support, it can be too much. Again somewhat ashamed to admit that only 2 months ago did I sit in my bed alone with 50mg of diazepam emptied in front of me - I had researched using the BNF, how much would send me into a coma I wouldn't come out of. I had the phone next to me, to call services to find my body rather than anyone else. Tom was actually in Poland, I thought it would be nicer for him to be away and not have to deal with me. I could not erase the thoughts from my mind that it was game over, they were incessant. Anyone who's had suicidal thoughts to such a degree will completely comprehend, it's relentless. A constant ticking in your mind that you cannot rationalise because you are so engulfed in the idea of a peaceful end. I'm not sure anyone realised I was there, no one truly knew the edge I was at. Only a text message from a friend saved me. They don't know that, I doubt he ever will know that. But as I sit here right now writing this I am so grateful that he brought me back to earth. Cannot thank Ryan enough for just checking in and saving me - as corny as it sounds.

It's unbelievable how alone battling your own mind makes you. I have only one person I can talk to about my problems and I don't want to burden him for the rest of his life with my troubles. Although I can see how blessed I am to have found someone who wants me to burden them. I don't have friends I can talk to, I don't mean that as an insult but I can't. I don't trust anyone with the serious ins and out of my life. No one except Tom truly knows me. And although that may be a twisted sort of romance it's also so sad to not have friends, and because of my own doing. I cannot have friends because I'm too paranoid and anxious to do anything with them. Even my best friends have no idea about any of these challenges as I can't bring myself to admit them. Plus people don't need your weight on their life too. Best to seem distant and ignorant.

Although I cannot believe all in one post I've admitted I'm a paranoid mess who is a loner and sometimes sees things, not to mention throwing in an active suicidal plan, it feels so much lighter to send it off into cyberspace. I'm sure I will be laughed at, no doubt made a mockery of because of these things but c'est la vie. I endeavour in life to help people not feel alone and if I can save someone by opening up and being honest about my own experiences I will take the humiliation and gossip from people who only maintain this horrendous stigma everyone with mental health challenges faces on a daily basis.
Caio for now xo

April 2016

Decided to leave this blog until now, so I could write with a slightly clearer head. The last month or so has been so tough, and although I'm far from done with this chapter in my life, I'm working my way through it, I feel like I need to write so far down and just let it out. 

A few weeks ago I started my medication switchover, something that someone who doesn't take antidepressants or similar probably won't quite understand. Basically you slowly ween off of one medication, get it pretty much out of your system and then start the next. You can't simply stop one and take another since the timing that they take to work, the half-life etc, could mean a little too much serotonin production, that might not sound bad but it can cause horrid side effects. Although weening off of medication and having a little break comes with its hideous side effects too. 

I was directed to reduce my dose over a few days and then take it every other. By the time I had reached a few of the 'every other' days,  I had actually become quite unwell - significantly actually, I didn't truly realise how much I need some sort of medication to boost me. In some ways this is a positive experience, it is going to be so helpful in my professional role, but on a personal level I cannot begin to tell you how embarrassing or demoralising it is. 

To be sitting in a&e surrounded by people with broken bones and various body pains, whilst you are - as they put it - actively suicidal is beyond humiliating. Trying to smile at small children playing at your feet and running around screaming in excitement, whilst you want to put your hands over your ears and scream is so unexplainably hard. To have professionals look at you and you can see in their eyes they have no idea what to do with you. From here I was put under crisis team - for those of you not in the know, google it. 

The crisis team, this was a point too far for me. I have been on placement with such teams, I know what they say and write and think. To be working with them as a patient and having them ask you your profession, it makes you feel so ashamed. There are so many feelings I have attached to this experience, I'm lucky I had someone to hold my hand through it all, but it has completely opened my eyes to how ignorant we still are to mental health in mainstream care settings. It was humiliating standing in front of a room of people answering the question 'why are you here today' with 'I want to die'. Condescension, patronising, sympathetic faces are NOT helpful in any way, whoever you may be. 

My small saving grace was the absolute shed load of diazepam, enough to last me months if taken PRN - that's my plan -Alongside my new medication It was essentially making me a zombie of myself, but I couldn't truly feel anything anymore, I could barely do anything even if I had wanted to. One of the hardest parts of this whole is experience is everyone else. Why is it people describe you as being 'unwell', why do people shy away from what's really happening? Or seem embarrassed that this is who you are? 

I mean I'm not one for posting my every thought and suicidal intention everywhere or discussing it with people - I personally find that hard to comprehend - but when people try to hide what is going on for you or step around it, have you any idea how ashamed you make me feel about myself? When really you are the one who should be ashamed, for trying to hide it, for making it a taboo, you maintain the stigma, and shame on you doesn't even touch the sides. 

As for now, I'm slowly getting my dose into my body and starting to feel a little better, but as ever in my mind I can't help but think this is never going to go away. The person I am under the mask of medication is a sad, lonely, hopeless and lost soul. Thankfully medication means I can maintain daily life, working once again and being able to actually see people but it too comes with its clauses and pitfalls. For me the hardest part is the weight gain side effect, despite professionals telling me this isn't common (it says 1 in 10 on the leaflet), however it seems to be happening to me, I think.

My weight has been an issue for me since I was young, perhaps not even my weight just my size and my body. People who know me well know I really dislike my body and how I look. I can notice the extra pound on my body, I can tell when clothes don't fit because of my size and although these things shouldn't matter and I tell other people they don't, to me they are a part of my core. Currently I'd estimate I've gained half a stone. I cannot stop eating, something unlike me, I'm pretty certain I've never felt true hunger until now. I cannot get enough sweet foods, I feel such an overpowering and overwhelming feeling to consume I can't stop myself - this ultimately ends in tears and a brisk workout to make me feel not so bad about what I've eaten. I am disgusted by my actions and how vile I look and the size I have become. It makes me feel sick to look in the mirror at my body. I don't think I can find the words to show just how much it bothers me. 

So here comes the catch 22: if I take my medication, my weight seems to be increasing, which is sending me into a serious downward spiral with food and my self loathing however if I don't take the medication I am a weeping mess who can barely get out of bed. And there is so little I can do to help either of these things?! 

All of this puts into perspective for me just how hard it must be to be resistant to medication or have chronic depression or schizophrenia or psychosis and so on, imagine managing these, I guess I'm lucky with episodical depression, I kind of know the episode has to end at some point - then again I also know it's going to come back and bite me in the ass once again. But for those people who are in their worst mental state constantly, I can't even begin to Fathom how hard that must be. So I guess in some ways I have to be thankful for this hideous experience on a professional level, I'm hoping I can help people to not feel like me, to feel they can't talk about these things and to educate their families so the stigma can be crunched. I think that's all I can really take from it because on a personal level, I know this is just the beginning of a war, perhaps I have won this battle but I know there is only more to come. 

Broken

'The mind is its own place and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven' 

Something that other people cannot understand is that sometimes we have no control over our minds, it does as it wants. A bad mood cannot be snapped out of or pushed aside. In fact it actually engulfs you, becomes you and dictates all you do. Every good thing in life had a downfall, the same with every bad thing in life and a silver lining - however the former is more accurate and applicable to my life at the moment. 

Writing everything down really helps to free my mind and sometimes make sense of what I feel. Sometimes I'm not even sure why I can cry hysterically for 2 hours and other times I can paint a smile on my face and act like my mind isn't tearing itself apart. 

Currently healthy anxiety is a big thing for me, in fact paranoia as a whole is quite an overbearing pressure on my life. Those close to me know I struggle with chronic kidney pain and infections, regular antibiotics, blood tests, specialist appointments - all to no end may I add. And this whole dialogue makes me increasingly paranoid and anxious. The two are very different to me. I worry about my health, I worry that by not drinking enough water or too much fruit juice I will incur and infection, then given antibiotics following that a potential reaction to said antibiotics - this does happen to me. But the paranoia, now that is something that when I'm clear headed I can identify as irrational. If my weight is more than usual I become irrational obsessed with the idea it is a growth, anything from a tumour to an undetected foetus. Which is extreme, so extreme it's hard to manage. But I often truly believe these things. They plague my mind. Why am I at 21, always so unwell, always so tired and unmotivated. It is not only unnatural but it is destroying my life. 

Not only this but when I feel ill, I feel incapable. Either the anxiety or paranoia send me into obsession over my diet or diagnosis. I become reclusive from the world and only want to spend time with those who know me for what I really am - broken. 

For now these things are worsening as I undergo another medication change, for those of you who do not have the joy have antidepressants, they don't all work in an instant. It takes 6 weeks approximately for a chance of success - this is my fourth medication. I am moving to a new branch of medication, ones with weight gain side effect. Therefore my anxiety is about as high as the moon, out of everything in life I am terrified beyond reason of becoming overweight. It is in my mind the worst thing that can happen to me. Only some people will understand that, others will see it as shallow. It is a fear I have had since childhood, wether it be politically incorrect I cannot help it, it is simply an idea that possess my mind and scares it. 

So basically, the hard life starts here. Not in a poor me way, in a my poor family, friends and partner way. Right now is probably the lowest I have been in so long, I don't think I have cried so much or felt such an overpowering urge to give up on everything. My life right now is not how I planned it to be - another cause for anxiety - I may have found the person I will do anything and everything to be with for as long as I am here but I feel a burden, a problem. Not only to him but to my other loved ones. This further increases the intensity of those voices telling you it's time to give up now. Until you've experienced them you cannot truly understand how overwhelming they can be, how debilitating and exhausting they become. I'm not saying I don't ever feel happy because I do have things I still enjoy. However once I am moved to my dark and lonely place it is so hard to get out of. 

I know I have loved ones who cannot understand why I feel this way, probably lots of people think that. People who believe I can just snap out of it and that I chose to struggle with my emotions. I may appear brutal with my words but I struggle with these things not only of my own accord but of yours too. I am fully aware that environmental factors affect such elements in life, I believe it's time some of you look closer to home to see exactly why I feel the way I do. Oh and then comes anger. The irrational anger and feeling of I cannot stand feeling this way. I cannot stand you not understanding, I cannot stand your judgement or your sympathy, I do not want your futile words or you telling me to pull myself together. NONE OF THEM THINGS HELP. They simply anger me and make me feeling a burning hate I cannot control. A hate that makes me rip my nails off until they bleed, or pick my skin until it stings, shave until I can feel nothing, it makes me want to hurt you or myself in frustration. So stop it, I beg. 

life update

Recently life has been a little more difficult than usual - a lot more difficult. Although I am eternally grateful for the things this year has brought to me, most of all my beautiful nephew who truly keeps me in this world. 

In February due to illness both physical and mental, university decided to given me the option of intermission - and by option I mean that was the only option I was given. This is probably one of the hardest things for me to swallow and an event in my life I have truly struggled with over the past 14 days. 

In life I have always had a plan and idea, something which I intended to stick to rigidly as anything else I found unnerving. People will always say 'plans never work out' 'everyone thinks like that' there's no way to truly explain to someone who doesn't understand what having a life plan meant, how adamant I was that life was going to be that way and only that way. Deviation from it in thought alone caused paralysing anxiety and now I am having to actually live with the change of plan. It's heartbreaking, anxiety provoking and soul destroying. I can't fully explain my thoughts but a niche amount of people will understand. 

Within all of this and being physical I'll my mood has plummeted. Although to most people I would seem fine just a little shut off, I most definitely haven't been. I lost the desire and passion for life, which is the most awful thing to say and so many people will say it is a selfish thought but to feel like going to sleep and hoping not to wake up is an awful place to be. Even worse with someone trying all they can to protect you and hold you together, and feeling no better. 

Truly low mood is such a burden. Not only in my life, something I can't shake and something that I know will be a part of me forever - which I hate and is a part of this I really struggle with - but a burden on everyone around me. And I hate that even more. My sadness should not make life a worry for my loved ones and I know it does, there is only so many times I can apologise for that. From the bottom of my heart I am so sorry that I feel this way and am finding it hard to fix it right now. 

I am lucky to be looking forward to starting employment again during my intermission to keep me busy and maintain my passion for care. To be lucky enough to have found someone in my life who I truly believe is my soulmate and is striving with every fibre of their being to make me happy and give me everything I have dreamed of in life - a home together, our beautiful pup, a family, I must remember that trudging through this part of life is essential to enjoy all those things in the future. Not only this but there is a beautiful little boy for whom I feel a love I've never felt before that I must stay strong for and keep striving for better so I can always be in his life. But sometimes, people have to know just how hard it is to live.