The Truth About Having A Nervous Breakdown

As I've mentioned on here previously I've been going through a kind of mini-breakdown. I have Stress Related Depressive Disorder, which is basically a kind of anxious nervous exhaustion, brought about by an overwhelming amount of stress from external factors, pulling me in various different directions and wreaking havoc on sleep patterns and eating habits. I was never the kind of person I would have imagined would suffer from such an illness, but I guess this has made me realise that I'm only human, just like everyone else. And just like everyone else who tries to take on the world and win, sometimes even I have to stop, take stock and take a little bit of time out for healing, rest and recalibration. 

Thankfully, one of the issues that was taking up a lot of my time and energy has now been rectified, so that's one less thing to be worrying about. But I made the mistake of thinking that the moment it was settled, I'd feel an immediate sense of huge relief; a palpable change in my psychological outlook. But that was just me being the hundred mile and hour freight train I need to try and stop embodying. I can have all the time and patience in the world for another person, but when it comes to me, myself and my own issues....I want a resolution NOW and I want to sort it all out myself. I know I need to work on going a little easier on myself and stop expecting nothing but 100% perfection all the time, but that's just something that will come with time and possibly with seeing a behavioural psychologist who can help break through my stubborn, self-reliant, super-woman complex.

It was incredibly frustrating for me to not feel that immediate change, the moment that particular issue was resolved, but thanks to my ever-present, doting, amazing boyfriend, I have had my little frombie hissy-fit, wailed, seethed, cried, laughed and let it all out of my system. It's the frustration that's the worst. It's knowing that despite how smart, clever and capable you are, right now there is NOTHING you can do to make this all better, right away. It's feeling useless, restricted, held back, impotent and angry, on top of a layer of sadness, distress, failure and despair. You can't see where your brain is broken, so you can't just reach on in and twiddle with a few bits and fix it like you would a broken circuit board. It's intangible, ephemeral, impossible to nail down; yet you can feel it right there in the forefront of your mind and in the deepest recess of your psyche. 

It's a total contradiction in terms and no two people will experience it in the exact same way, so you can't even follow a regular user's manual or medical textbook and expect that if you add (A) and (B) prescribe (C) and avoid (D) that you will magically improve and turn out fine. I've learned that, just from having had to try a variety of different medications that my doctor has prescribed for me. My doctor is a wonderfully patient, intelligent man with kindly eyes and a peacefulness about him that puts me immediately at ease when I go to see him. That in itself is quite a feat, because dealing with people full stop right now is not something I'm comfortable with or capable of. But my doctor is lovely. He talks me through the ins and outs of this disorder, doesn't patronise me and takes the time to tell me all about the medication he is going to try me on, how it will hopefully impact on my symptoms and of course that if it doesn't work, not to lose hope; because there are a whole host of other different medications out there that we can try and it's very much a case of trial and error with psychotropic treatment.

Right now I'm not sure that the two or three types of drug and varying dosages we've tried, have had a particularly successful effect on my illness. One of the latest combinations had me go from 3 day awake mania, to sleeping for up to 22 hours. I have very little memory of the past few days because of this! My doctor being the incredibly insightful man that he is though, pre-empted me upon issuing me with the first drug we tried. He knew straight away the kind of person I am and he knew that I'd be expecting to feel cured after the first two weeks on the first drug, ready and raring to go back to work. He told me right from the start, not to get my hopes up with any one drug; that it was all about fiddling around with the exact medication, the right dose and the right combination, all of which would take time, patience and a lot of just letting go of trying to be in control of the situation. And of course he was 100% right. I actually tried to return to work after about three weeks absence, because I was just so bored of being signed off and felt utterly useless. I hated that I was letting my team down at work by not being there and I'm just not used to sitting on my arse doing sweet FA for days on end. For all my complaining, I love going to work. I love being a part of a bigger machine and knowing that my small contribution to that huge mechanism might only be one tiny cog, but it's every bit as important as every other cog in the machine. 

Being in full-time work really does give not only shape to your day, but it gives you a sense of purpose. It's that reason to get up, dress, put your face on and go out to face the world - as opposed to just sitting around in your nightie eating cake and watching daytime television till your brain cells atrophy with the banality of it all! So after three weeks of treatment, having tried just one dose of one type of medication, I decided to go and throw myself right back into the workplace, desperately wanting to just be able to get my head down, do my work and get back to feeling 'normal' again. But it was ridiculously too soon and if I'm honest, deep down I knew it wasn't time to even think about trying to go back, but stubborn old super-woman was having none of it, so I rocked up at work on what should have been my first day back.....and promptly dissolved into a full blown panic attack, right on the spot. 

From the minute I walked in through the front door it felt like the walls were closing in on me. My throat started to feel tight, my temperature started to soar, my head was swimming and I struggled to breathe. I ran to the bathroom, ran the cold taps, tried to drink it and splashed it on my face. But it didn't work. I felt dizzy and pressed my back up against the cold bathroom tiled wall, before sliding down to the floor hyperventilating. Thankfully, nobody came in whilst I was like that and it took me a good fifteen minutes to start getting a grip and begin breathing properly again. I took another three valium and a second beta-blocker to try and get my heart rate down and fixed my face as best I could, ready for my return to work meeting with HR.

To this day I have no recollection of how I actually got up to the fifth floor and into that meeting room, but I'm assuming I took the lift. Fuck knows what I must have looked like to anyone walking past me, but I made it into the meeting and sat down. What was said in there still eludes me, but it did result in my manager taking me to the doctors for an emergency appointment, where I was promptly sedated and sent home in a zombie state. And this is pretty much where I've been ever since.

This entry has turned into much more of a crazed rant than I intended, but it really angers me what crap I've being put through at a time when I can barely remember what day it is. I just wish that I could turn up to work with this amount of fury and assertiveness behind me, but the truth of the matter is, I can only ever feel like this right now, when safely ensconced within the sanctuary of my home. The minute I try to leave I become as vulnerable as a small child and the words of hope will just die on my lips. The room will spin, my head will throb and my heartbeat will increase until I either throw up or collapse. That's how it is right now and that's what I have to try and work around.

So there you have it faithful readers. The real truth behind just what has been afflicting me of late. I don't want this to be a 'poor me' post because I'm really, truly not looking for sympathy. I just want more people to know and understand what it actually means to be under the dark cloud of a mental health disorder. People don't 'get' it; they lack empathy because they're too stupid to look beyond the exterior and they react badly because they fear that which they don't understand. They said stupid things like “why don't you just try to focus more?”, "look at all the great things you have going on in your life right now”, “pull yourself together” or “Stop being such a miserable goth.” Okay, so I made the last one up for K-Dog, but you know what I mean!

It's not all doom and gloom though. Far from it. Despite having this current glitch in my mental health, this is not going to be forever. Thankfully, I have, as I've already stated, a wonderful doctor who has great experience in trying to help treat various mental health disorders. Together, we will work at getting the right combination of medications, at the correct doses, to try and help correct the chemical imbalance that is currently plaguing this otherwise wonderful brain of mine. Once we work out just what it is that I need, we should start seeing an improvement in things like my sleep patters and eating habits. I will gradually find coping with seemingly simple everyday tasks, that little bit easier, one day at a time. I'll have fuck-ups and failures and shitty days along the way, when I just want to slam my head on the nearest breeze-block, but I'm going to get there; and one day, when I'm just sat on a bus or a park bench reading my Kindle, enjoying the book oblivious to the people around me, I'll realise that I'm okay. I'll be out and about and doing everything I used to do and it'll be okay. The world isn't going to come and get me and I don't need to hide under the duvet any more. But that's going to take time and I just need to learn how to be a bit more patient with my own rate of recovery and remember to thank that boyfriend of mine, every single day, for being the most amazingly solid, dependable, caring person I could wish to have by my side, bonkers or not!!

I've probably painted a hellish picture of my life right now in this post today. That's not entirely true. When I'm at home with my other half, I'm in my 'safe place'. The phone is on silent and if the doorbell rings we just both ignore it until whoever it is fucks off and learns to text ahead to make an appointment first! When I'm home with him, I do feel safe. I can laugh at something on the television and smile at a text from a friend, but there are of course a lot of times when I find myself in a heap on the floor in tears, because something has triggered me off. I have good days and bad days and I'm lucky to have someone who just allows me to hand over all my stresses, worries, tasks, issues and errands onto him. I think that's the key to being able to deal with a mental health problem. You can't do it on your own and you need that someone, be it a parent, sibling, best friend, partner, therapist, chaplain or someone you meet as part of a group, just to be there for you. You need to have someone to take the strain, listen to you, not judge you, be patient with you, indulge you, but also tell you when you're just being a dick! Oh yes, I very much have days when I need to be told that I'm being a total dick! But having that someone there, so you're not trying to deal with all the stresses alone, is an essential part of dealing with your mental health problems.

Like it or not, the big bogey-man of 'Mental Illness' will touch most of our lives in one way or another at some point in time. It won't necessarily be the big names like Bi-Polar Disorder, Schizophrenia, Depression or Tourettes, but something smaller, verging on more of a neuroses like an eating disorder, a problem with shyness and blushing, a fear of germs, feeling a bit morose in the darker winter months, self-harm, PMT, post natal depression, bereavement, self-esteem issues....I could go on and on because the banner of 'Mental Health Issues' spreads so widely over so many problems. If you go through your entire life without experiencing even one minor issue with mental health, you will be very lucky indeed because I really do believe that it can and does, affect almost all of us, in one way or another, at any one time in our lives. It's more of a spectrum of disorders than a singular list of problems. Some will suffer more than others. Some will experience more severe symptoms and have it affect their lives much more than someone else classified under the same heading. The important thing is to recognise when you have a problem and not be afraid to ask for help.

Over the years we've demonised the issue of mental illness to such a point that we're afraid to admit when our brains aren't quite working the way they should be. If you look back throughout history at the way in which people with mental health problems were treated, you would be horrified. Cast out of society, locked up in asylums, experimented upon, abused, considered to be the work of the devil and just generally disregarded by most, it's no wonder that even in more enlightened times like today, we're still feeling the echoes of times gone by. Society IS getting a little better at accepting that mental illness is just as valid as a visible physiological condition, but we're not quite there just yet. Perhaps in another couple of generations time, we'll see an increased awareness, understanding and acceptance of mental health issues, but until that day comes we should all just try to be a little more compassionate and not freak out at the mere mention of 'mental illness'. 

Maybe some of you who read these rants right now are suffering with your own personal mental health battles - to all of you, I offer you my own sympathy, empathy and a salute to the strength I know you have to be in possession of, just to make I through the day. It is true that this particular kind of disorder - Stress Related Depressive Illness - is an affliction not of the weak, but of those who have been strong, for so long, trying to keep all of life's plate's spinning, but slowly running ourselves into the ground. We who end up in this predicament are generally life's dependables. The ones who cope in a crisis and who everyone else turns to when the shit hits the fan. We take on too much for our bodies and brains to deal with and sooner or later, our overloaded mental circuit boards blow a fuse and we shut down. By our very nature, we are not the sort of people used to having to ask for help; we're super-woman/super-man remember? But that's exactly what you have to get used to trying to do. As hard as it is to acknowledge our mortal vulnerability, it is essential that if you find yourself getting more and more overworked, overloaded and stressed out to the point where it's having an impact on your eating, sleeping and moods, you seek help immediately. 

Talk to a friend about any concerns you might have. Confide in a parent or your doctor or your minister or a therapist. Tell someone that you just don't feel as though everything is working the way it should be. That you're beginning to feel overwhelmed, stressed out, unable to cope. Seek medical help and try to offload some of your responsibilities to other friends, family members or work colleagues. Tell your manager at work that you're currently going through a period of stress and need a little understanding. See if you can take some time off; holiday time, compassionate leave or perhaps a restructured working day with reduced hours, until you're feeling back to normal again. The sooner you acknowledge that you're not well, the sooner you can work towards getting better. Don't make the mistake that I - and so many others - do, by keeping it all in, letting it all build up and allowing it to cause you to have a full-blown breakdown. It's not undo-able if you do, but it's a lot easier in the long run if you identify an underlying issue sooner rather than later.

If any of you feel like you're going through something like this and just need to talk to someone there are contact numbers for the Samaritans, crisis lines, suicide lines etc in your area and you will find them either online or in your telephone directory. Whatever you do, don't just keep it to yourself. Talking is the key to getting this demon under control and there are always people there to listen. Just don't suffer in silence because you don't have to. No one has to.

And with that, I think I'm going to sign off now guys. This was a fairly short post I know - for me! But it's something that I didn't just want to try and sum up in a brief cursory nod to the subject. It's something I want to be open and honest with everyone about, because it's not something to be embarrassed or ashamed about. It's just another kind of illness and it happens to the best of us. Hey, you all know what a bad ass mofo I can be, so if it's hit me (and hit me hard) it really can hit anyone!

Take care of yourselves and don't be afraid to not only reach out and ask for help if you need it, but to also reach out and OFFER help/friendly ear if you think someone you know might need it.

Much love

xx