In 2015 I had what was never ‘officially’ diagnosed but I
now realise was a nervous breakdown. Borne out of a year of immense grief and
change; miscarriages, death, loss, stepping away from a toxic friendship, buying
our first home, having a shit time at work. It got to the point where my ears
were ringing constantly, the thoughts in my head were out of control and I was
bursting into tears without any forewarning, particularly during important
meetings at work.
I didn’t understand why it was happening, the anxiety I
didn’t realise I was suffering from was shutting off my logical brain and I
just couldn’t seem to ‘get’ why I was such a mess.
I was actually finding it all a bit annoying. So I went to
the doctors. I just wanted them to help me fix it and quickly. Luckily for me
the doctor saw what I couldn’t see and signed me off work and suggested I
sought some help.
 |
| Just after I'd been signed off work. Went to a party with my 'I'm fine' face on, when I felt anything but. |
That help initially came in the form of our errant hound, Buckley the chocolate Labrador. He filled the big empty space that we were rattling around in, that we’d hoped would be filled with our first baby. He kept me company during those lonely times when my husband was working away and I was alone with my thoughts.
It wasn’t easy, we’d been through such a long period of loss
that we were convinced he wasn’t going to stick around. He’d probably die of
some unknown puppy disease, or we’d somehow lose him when he went out at night.
But he stuck around, and healed my broken heart. He let me cry on him without
judgement, he listened when I ranted and raved about how shit life was. He got
me out in the fresh air and forced me to talk to people I didn’t know (dog
walkers are a friendly bunch round these parts).
When you’ve had mental health issues, when you’ve experienced life at its most raw state, at its best and at its worst, life feels impossible.
I strongly believe that to really recover from mental health
issues, or anything that has had a profound effect on you, that you don’t try
to ‘find yourself’ again. That ‘you’ is changed irrevocably.
That is actually a beautiful thing. It means you’ve lived,
you’ve grown, and you’ve become the new you.
A new you that you might not quite understand, and that is actually
something to feel good about. Because without doubt the new you will be more
empathetic, more real. Most of all, for me, it’s ignited a real honesty in me.
Not just with others, but with myself. And that is something to be proud of.
If this
is something you’ve struggled with know that you’re not alone, that it’s ok to
be honest, and that chances are the ‘new’ you will be the best version of you
if you allow yourself the time to process what you've been through, and understand who you’ve become. I didn't initially access a lot of the support I was offered and this is my biggest regret, because I know now looking back that I needed it and it would have helped me to get better a lot quicker. I did eventually seek support - all sorts; CBT, talking therapies, and intense psychotherapy. I found some helpful, some not so much, but I kept going until I found what did work and eventually I started to feel better to the point that I felt I could work on myself. Anxiety diaries, control wheels, journalling, blogging and talking to others.
I'm not going to say it's been easy, this happened 5 years ago and it's only in the last year I can truly say I feel ok again, but every single day in the last year I've seen small signs that I'm getting better. I drop all the washing and I don't want to scream and hide. I make a mistake at work and I don't feel like it means everyone things I'm rubbish, I know that's normal and ok. I approach new friendships with a bit more confidence and don't feel like I need everyone to like me. Because going through something like this forces you to get to know yourself and confront all your demons. To accept yourself and love yourself no matter what mistakes you've made and will continue to make. At the end of the day we're are all human, and we are not designed to be perfect - something I strived for, for so long. And now realise is both unattainable and to be honest boring. I like people who are raw, rough round the edges, and have a story to tell. I find they are the best humans to be around, and I hope I'm one of those too.
My advice when I originally wrote this blog was:
'Be kind to yourself and allow yourself the space to feel what you need to feel without letting that inner voice stop you in your tracks. You can do this.'
And while I still agree with that, I'd also say access the help available to you. Contact your GP, speak to the Samaritans, investigate what support groups are in your area. Most importantly know that the specialist care is there to help you, and although you might feel like you're doing yourself and everyone else a favour by coping on your own, you're not. It may feel hard at first to open up to someone, it may not seem like they 'get you', but persevere and you will find support that works for you. I did this far too late, but when I did I wish I'd done it sooner. I could have lived a better life over the last 5 years if I had. To put that into perspective, my eldest son is 4 and I could not imagine spending his whole lifetime worrying that he wasn't ok and doing nothing about it. So why did I treat myself so differently? I owed it to my family, and to me, and we all benefit for me taking action and taking care of myself.
Finally let me tell you this - you are important. You matter. If you are struggling you may not feel like your problems are 'big enough' to need support. But every single human feeling and journey is different, and yours is no less worthy or important than anyone else's. Seek support in whatever form you feel comfortable with - start somewhere. And if that somewhere is to slide into our DM's and chat then that's ok too. We're here. Broken before, we'll probably break again because that is life, but knowing what it's like to feel helpless and with a huge open door to hearing your story.
Kim xx
Where you can access support:
Your GP
Samaritans - 116123 / 01892 53 23 23 / www.samaritans.org
Mind - 0300 1233393 / text 86463 / www.mind.org.uk
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