Tuesday 31 May 2016

The Only Reason I'm Alive by Mica


I have had mental health issues throughout my life. I was diagnosed with OCD as a child, an eating disorder during my teens and battled anxiety. I began taking antidepressants at fifteen years old and have now been on them for 12 years. I never felt as though I was affected that much by my problems, I simply lived around them.

When I became a parent I took to it like a duck to water, despite having a horrendous pregnancy and labour. I felt as though I was going somewhere, then everything changed.

Upon moving areas and doctors surgeries I was falsely diagnosed as having a heart condition known as long QT interval. My new GP believed that my antidepressants were causing the problem and took me off them cold turkey... after 10 years of being on them non stop at that time. The withdrawals started after 3 days and within a week I had to be put back on them. The only way I can describe it is that when you see people having heroin withdrawals on films... it looks quite mild compared to antidepressant withdrawals.

After a few weeks of messing about with the dosage my GP  then changed my antidepressants over to a different kind. The first few months were hell. My mum had to retire early as she had to care for both me and my son, who was two at the time. A huge rift was caused in my relationship with my mother as she loved her career with the NHS and lost the majority of her pension after retiring early. She now lives on less that I received in benefits.

A year later I had another ECG and was diagnosed with long QT interval again. My new antidepressants were reduced to half of the lowest therapeutic dose and I experienced unpleasant withdrawals but nowhere near as bad as it was going cold turkey. I saw a Cardiologist a few months later who informed me that both ECG'S were read wrong by two doctors at my GP surgery. There was nothing wrong with my heart and if they bothered to fax my results to the Cardiologist he would have told them on the same day that there was nothing to worry about.

A month later I became unwell. I had flu, tonsillitis and a chest infection all at once. I was given antibiotics I'd never taken before and almost overnight I changed.

I became paranoid, delusional and suddenly had OCD, although it was different compared to when I was a child.

After a few months I became suicidal and was referred to the home crisis team. My antidepressant dosage was increased which got rid of the paranoia but the OCD remained as strong as ever. They increased it again... still no change.

Eventually my mum couldn't cope and threw me out whilst keeping my son with her. I spent a few days as a voluntary inpatient but was discharged after seeing a psychiatrist. I was homeless for 3 months with very little support from various organisations. There was simply no resources.

At my worst I parked up and wrote a letter to whoever would find me. When it got to the point where I wrote about my son I cracked and drove myself to the mental health ward. I took the letter and told them I needed help. The nurse looked at my letter for one second and then said "Don't go making threats, if you were going to kill yourself you would have done it already." She sent me away with some sheets on depression and I then returned to my secluded spot in the car and slit my wrist.

The only reason that I'm still alive is that the cheap razor blade snapped and got lodged in my wrist. The pain was so intense that it brought me to my senses. I had a panic attack, screamed, swore and cried  then took the blade out of my wrist. I bled all over my jeans but I knew I hadn't hit an artery so I tied up my wrist with some old wet wipes, sat there for a while before changing my jeans and buying some bandages.

I was referred to a DBT group ran by my local mental health team 6 months later but I have trouble attending.  I've lost all faith in the mental health service and believe that the  only person I can rely on is myself. 

In my experience over years of problems there is barely any help available on the NHS. In my borough there is just one Psychologist available with a 2 year waiting list for CBT. During that time most patients will have either deteriorated and taken matters in to their own hands.

I have learned that mental health is like a black hole that is easy to get sucked into but very hard to get out of, especially on your own. The only way I manage to cope on a daily basis is by trying to see the bigger picture, rather than focusing on the here and now. 

I think of my son, he is my main focus for getting better. I don't know if I will ever be "normal" but I know that I have to try, for him. Not many people will feel as though they have a reason to get better, as sometimes it is so hard to see beyond it. But we have to try. Never stop trying.



#ITAFFECTSME




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