Every Story Needs Told

Hannxm

I'd had a bout of depression before during the Winter time for no reason. I felt generally glum and not myself. It wasn't the worst depression I'd experienced though, it was manageable but it was the first time and I didn't understand it. My mum and I put it down to that seasonal depression, I find it's really common. 

The next year, a few things happened involving my abusive ex boyfriend, I became very low, I felt hated by everyone and alone despite having a boyfriend at the time. Soon enough, I was considering suicide. It wasn't a little squabble with an ex, it was a lot more complicated and cruel than that. 

I pulled myself together after that died down, but then I started falling in and out of depression for months at a time, sometimes for no reason, but it was usually triggered by a highly stressful situation or when I was stressed for long periods, understandably.

Winter came again, I went into depression but it continued months after the season passed and became gradually worse. That was when I realized there was something wrong. When I went through a break up after a two year, seemingly perfect relationship with a guy I thought was the one I'd spend my life with, I went down hill unbelievably fast. I went insane, I genuinely thought I would end up in a mental hospital. I left home in my car, crying for hours in the freezing cold and the dark, hoping I'd just freeze over and die. I self harmed for the first time, in an area no-one would see and unfortunately, they scarred. No-one knows about that. Every day and night, I thought about different suicide methods, as I sat on my bed crying, feeling like I was going mad, I just wanted to scream. I started looking online for suicide methods and even now, I still have one method I would go through with and I'm set on if ever I want to leave this world. I missed my childhood friend's wedding because I could barely get myself dressed without crying or feeling generally shit with no energy. 

A couple of weeks before the break up, I had a big anxiety attack for no reason. I didn't realize at the time, but the year before, in college, I had an anxiety attack but I didn't realize that was it. I put it down to unusual illness and toughed it out, not telling anyone. I believe I kind of knew what happened, but I denied it was that. For a long time, I refused to believe that I had a mental illness.

The memorable panic attack I had came on suddenly. I was sitting in the living room, eating breakfast watching TV before college. I felt perfectly fine, but I suddenly lost my appetite and the thought of eating made me feel physically sick. I started sweating and the nausea got worse. By the time I felt I needed to go upstairs to the toilet just in case I puked, all of my limbs were weak and trembling, I had to crawl up the stairs. My heart raced and I felt so faint. I didn't know if I was going to be sick or pass out. I went white as a sheet as I had this anxiety attack on the floor, alone. After that, I went to a funeral (with hundreds of people, all the chairs were full on two storeys and the crowds went out the door!) and had a panic attack there but I stayed quiet, battled through it and reassured myself I wasn't going to be sick or pass out. 

Eventually, my mum started noticing my change in behaviour. She heard me crying one night, came in and we made a plan of action together. Arrange time off work, inform my college of what was going on and see a doctor to get CBT (which I didn't get). I felt relieved that my mum knew and I felt like I had a path to follow in all this craziness and pain.

I went to the doctor, which was good timing because my panic attacks went from monthly, to weekly, to daily, super quickly by the time I went to the doctor. He confirmed I was experiencing panic attacks and depression. He gave me 50mg of anti-depressants. Previously I had refused medication, I just hoped it would fix itself somehow, that I didn't have anything wrong with me and I didn't want medication to make my brain work! But I had to accept it as it started to become out of my control and it was hard to accept that my brain was working against me. Not to mention the huge stigma attached to mental illness.

I soon found out that those meds were way to strong. I went to college as usual and the side effects hit me like a wall. I had extreme tiredness, my eye sight was foggy and it was like everything was a dream. I tried to sleep wherever I could and felt like I was severely hungover. I went to lessons though and in one, I started becoming seriously nauseous, I nearly ran out of the room to be sick. I felt terribly unwell and I drove home (I don't recommend but I had no choice). I spent the rest of the day confined to the sofa, sleeping and feeling appalling. I refused to take any more 50mg medication after that and was later put on 10mg which I've found to be so much better, even if they're meant for "old ladies"!

It leveled me out and I haven't had a panic attack since. I feel more confident now with the thought I won't have one. My feelings are more balanced and I'm just in a more stable position mentally so it has done wonders! I didn't have many side effects, though I still get bad days of anxiety and even worse depression, to the point I don't want to get out of bed. At its worst, I felt like there was no reason to live, nothing brought me joy, I felt like not going to college or work any more which ultimately made me think about just ending my life because what was the point? I had my suicide plan, I should just do it! I've never felt so low and unmotivated in my life and it's something I can never fully describe, it's so intense, but I wouldn't wish it on anyone. It's a horrible feeling that gives you tunnel vision and makes you feel trapped and there's not much you can do about it. I really feel for those who have severe depression on a daily basis which can't be fully controlled with medication, I just can't imagine living like that each day and it's no surprise they end their lives, it's no way to live.