It can happen to us all (My Experience of Depression)

Member Name: taylor72

Product:	My Experience of Depression
Date:	13/03/09 (114 review reads)
Rating:

Advantages: it is part of who I am now

Disadvantages: at it's worst - it really sucks!

They say writing things down is good therapy so here goes.

11 years ago I was in a high powered job with a great wage, no major debt , lots of friends, a gorgeous son (5 at the time) and a supportive husband. I had everything going for me and yet I felt like my whole world was caving in. I was far too embarrased to talk to anyone and just kept my feelings to myself - pull youself together Lisa, what have you got to complain about. The darkness I was feeling steadily got worse until everything seemed to overwhelm me. I started to burst into tears at the slightest thing and became overly sensitive to any joke that may relate in an obscure way to me. The feelings of tension became so strong that I started to self harm.

At first I managed to conceal this but it was inevitable it would come out at some stage. My husband did not know what to do, reacted as most people would, with horror - telling me I had to stop this. I tried but failed.

My husband worked shifts at this time and one night I was on my own (husband at work and son at my mums) when I decided enough was enough.

People may critisise me for the following.

I started the evening by writing a letter to my husband - asking for his forgiveness and tellig him I loved him and my son but could not cope with how I felt any longer, people say that commiting suicide, or attempting it, is the most selfish act. In a way it is but when you are so low that you contemplate ending your life it is not because you want to take the easy way out. As a christian I struggled with the fear of being alive and the fear that by ending my life I would be eternally "doomed" but I could not carry on any longer - so after placing the letter on my husbands desk I took a concoction of alcohol mixed with 80 paracetamol and went to sleep - at the time I hoped forever.

My husband was not due back for 8 hours by which time, I calculated, I would be out of the "madness of my mind". Strangely that night he was ordered to leave work 6 hours early, I don't remember him coming home, I remember waking up in hospital and being given a disgusting charcoal drink which made me very sick. I had blood tests and other tests and after a day was told how "lucky " I was to be alive and that only time would tell what damage I may have done.

I remember apologising to everyone, saying it was a moment of madness, persuading the hospital psychiatrist I was fine, screaming inside and not feeling lucky.

As a family we did not really discuss it, pushging it away, embarrased and ashamed. I pushed it down but it kept coming back and inevitably I tried again with no success to end my life.

The next two years were mainly spent in our local psychiatric hospital where I was put on various drugs and mostly slept - slipping between the dark feelings and other more pleasant ones - at times I felt almost like I was God and that I could do anything - this I now know was the beginning of mania.

Nothing seemed to balance my moods, no drugs worked well and E.C.T just wiped out some of my memory and gave me recurring headaches - then came a small light. A new psychiatrist who wanted to try me on a new drug called depakote - it worked quite well. I managed to feel a little more human, I managed to almost stop self harm, I managed to smile.

Three years after my initial suicide attempt I was diagnosed with rapid cycling bipolar - my mood swings changing frequently.

Medication on its own though, did not seem enough, I still felt quite ill a lot of the time. I was referred to a psychotherapist and the first time I went to see her turned out to be the best decision. I won't go into details here, but my father (who I now adore and never touches alcohol) was a violent drunk, I was sexually abused by a close friends uncle for 3 years, one year after he was imprissoned I was raped almost outside my own house - and psycotherapy ripped me apart and slowly rebuilt me to a point where I am now mostly ok. Apparently a large percentage of people with mental health problems have abuse in their past.

I work hard at beating this illness, it is a part of me but it doesn't own me, I have not been in a psychiatric hospital for six years and I don't want to ever want to go there again.

Please don't judge everyone who has bipola by Kerry Katona's standards!

Thankyou for reading

Summary: I may have mental health issues but I'm still me - just Lisa