“27 year old female, feeling unwell, tired"
Just another day, another dollar. The usual routine; wake up, shower, get dressed, make lunch, drive to work, get crap out of locker, chuck it on a truck, check the bags, check the cupboards, drive off for 12 hours of the usual. Job to job to job; the same old patients, the same frustrations and no thanks for it. It really does get you down sometimes! As for the patient, man up springs to mind!
She lived in a nice area, her flat was a nice size, clean and tidy, nothing out of place and she was well dressed and well presented. She was well spoken and very polite. What could possibly be wrong? She didn’t seem in any pain, she had a smile on her face and cracked jokes. She couldn’t really explain what the problem was and knew it was nothing she needed an ambulance for, but she didn’t want to go back to the GP. The last time she did she was fobbed off with a prescription and told to diet and exercise. She was just... feeling unwell. So here we are. What is the problem?!
She took a deep breath... “OK, from the beginning...
...I suppose it started during my teenage years to a point; broken family etc blah blah blah, always a brave face but I suppose it took its toll. Self esteem was low, confidence was low but I suppose you just cope don’t you? A marriage painted over the cracks, 6 years of happiness and distractions and a lovely child to add to the mix made everything seem OK. After the marriage ended there was a rebound relationship that painted over more cracks. I suppose that wasted year gradually chipped away at any remaining confidence there was and after being left a shell, rock bottom was reached. All the while though, a well painted exterior left no one the wiser. Even my closest allies were unaware. Panic attacks began, intrusive thoughts plagued me and sleep became an issue. 3 months of 2-3 hours sleep a night took its toll. Bags under eyes is not a good look on me!
Despite the self-inflicted isolation and a full box of prescribed anti-depressants that I refused to touch, I found a way out. I suppose being as low as can be makes improvement all the more possible. I climbed out of the swamp of self pity and changed my lifestyle. The fake smile was more sincere and I felt good again. This lasted for 6 months. I found ways to deal with my insecurities and achieved a lot of personal goals. I had a good relationship with my ex which my son benefited from, I was fit, active, had a close group of loyal friends, I got this lovely flat in a lovely area, my family is caring and supportive, I live comfortably, I eat well, I could do what I want when I want. What is there to be miserable about? Nothing!
Not so. Despite my new found ‘happiness’ there was also an inherent loneliness. A void that was not being filled. A cloud I was unable to see through. A cloud that engulfed me. The unspoken D was looming again, threatening to rear its ugly head. No one could spot the signs as no one knew it had been there in the first place. For 4 months now I have not been sleeping. I don’t mean the odd night of broken sleep, I mean not sleeping. My job is demanding and exhausting; after an 84 hour week I should be tired enough to sleep but I can’t. I can’t switch off. I lie awake for hours on end. 1am, 2am, 3am, 4am, 5am, now it’s time for an hours kip, 6am, hours kip, 7am, wide awake. The next day I am back to work. The annoying thing is it was work that triggered my current demise. There was an incident in which I was hospitalised which caused a long spell on my sofa. A long time to think, take stock and over think. I couldn't exercise, I couldn't really socialise and it felt like all the positive changes I had made were being undone. It was like I was watching it happen but unable to stop it snowballing. It knocked my confidence and left me resentment about the job I loved. Once back to work the damage was done,and I was left feeling like I was existing, not living, yet all the while the smile is still there.
I hear people talking of depression and saying ‘why don’t they just snap out of it’. I want to. I can’t. It isn’t a choice. If I had a choice between a physical illness or a mental one I’d choose the former. Instead I get both. Maybe that is the problem. If it's not one it's the other. I don’t know. Looking in from the outside I have nothing to stress about. I have more than most people. I have a lovely, happy, healthy son who lights up my world. Surely that is enough? I have a job that pays well compared to a lot of people. I am not isolated from friends or family even though I feel it and isolate myself. I have a roof over my head. Seriously, surely I can just snap out of it?
It’s a cycle. You lie awake not able to sleep. Because you are awake your mind is at work. 5 hours awake in the dark gives you time to over think everything. You confuse yourself. You upset yourself. You feel alone. You wake up exhausted. You feel like you have been hit by a bus. Every day it becomes more and more of a struggle to leave the house. Your motivation is completely gone. The simplest of tasks become a chore. You feel lazy but there is no willingness to be pro-active. You feel horrible about yourself because you are so tired you are snappish. You start to snap at the people who are close to you but they just think ‘someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed’. You feel guilty and obsess over everything you are doing or saying. Tired and weary you get back into bed. Now you are stressed about your behaviour and your relationships in your life and can’t sleep or switch of. 1am, 2am, 3am, 4am, 5am, now it’s time for an hours kip, 6am, hours kip, 7am wide awake. It eats away your confidence and your self esteem. You feel like a shell.
Work doesn't help. I see things every day that add to my problems. I do have forums to vent and talk it out but I would be lying if I said things don't get to me. They do. I'm haunted by a lot. I struggle to deal with what life throws at people. A lot of the time I am fed up with hearing everyone else's problems. What about mine?! I can't avoid my work, I have to drag myself in every single day knowing that there is a high chance I'll be lying in bed later thinking about it.
When does it stop? I don’t want to be that medicated patient. I don’t want to list antidepressants to the ambulance crew. I don’t want the big D on my medical record. I don’t want to talk to my GP about it; I won’t talk to best friend about it so the GP doesn’t stand a chance! Maybe I’ll just carry on smiling. No one will know. I don’t know. I think I’ll just stay here.”
She didn't need hospital and didn't go, she just needed to talk it out, but it does raise questions. It’s a very common job, a very common problem. It’s probably more common that the stats suggest. How many people are suffering in silence? It isn’t an emergency and doesn’t warrant an ambulance but it does need addressing. Like all mental health, there is a stigma around it, a perception of weakness and misery that is not true. The fact that it can go so well hidden is testament to that. You can't just snap out of it. There is help out there, it just takes the courage to admit and find it. Unfortunately, until it is accepted as a genuine illness people will hide from it, deny it and do nothing about it. Luckily, she isn't hiding from it, denying it and is doing something about it.
The she is me.
If you are struggling with any of the issues raised in this post I highly recommend The Blurt Foundation. They are great to talk to, in total confidence, anonymously and online.