Everyone has an opinion.
These days it seems that everyone has an opinion about mental illness and the mental health system. Some I agree with and some I don’t. I am a part of the mental health system, working as a nurse, and I have also suffered from depression and anxiety. I have friends who live with Bipolar, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Alcoholism, Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) and the list goes on. These are people I cherish and hold dear to my heart. They keep me real and grounded.
My experiences with mental illness and that of friends and family are what led me to become a nurse and ultimately find my passion for helping people through some of the hardest periods of their lives.
I first experienced depression and anxiety following the birth of my second baby in 2003. I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy who I was over the moon to finally meet. I was so in love with him. I had a history of haemorrhaging after childbirth but it appeared that this time would be different. A few hours later though, the shit hit the fan. I thought I was going to die over the following three days. Just as they would get the bleeding under control it would start again.
I was weak from blood loss and hadn’t been allowed to eat because I may have had to have surgery. They didn’t know the cause and were reluctant to rush me to theatres, fearing it could make things worse. I had to remain in bed for three days, unable to get up which meant I couldn’t care for my baby. I was miserable and felt like a failure. I was worried that this would effect our bonding but the nurses brought him to me for feeding and lots of cuddles. I cried a lot and began to feel anxious and scared that I wouldn’t survive.
I experienced my first panic attack when my baby began to cry and no one came to help. I was tangled in tubes and was not supposed to get up but it broke my heart to hear him crying; he was so close but just out of reach. I couldn’t leave him to cry so I gently picked him up to comfort him until finally one of the nurses arrived to help me. Feeling so helpless had taken its toll on me but the inability to be there for my baby pushed me over. I also found the majority of the nurses cold and uncaring but there were a few who touched my heart and were absolutely beautiful souls.
Eventually I was able to go home which increased my anxiety. My memory had been badly effected and I had to write down everything from when I fed the baby last to having bathed him. I was weak and exhausted but it did feel good to be home in my own bed. My mental health continued to deteriorate until I could hardly get out of bed. I was lucky to get three hours sleep and began to constantly hear music in my head. I honestly began to worry that I was losing my mind. All I did was cry. I didn’t understand what was happening at the time until a close friend gently told me she thought I was suffering from depression and anxiety.
I began taking antidepressants and saw a therapist who helped me understand what was happening. It took me about a year to recover and to this day I can still remember the fear I felt during that time. I remember how tortured I was and how I just wanted to die. I remember driving home from the shops one day, wondering if I was ever going to be ‘normal’ again. Tears rolling down my face, just wanting the pain to be over.
As I was crossing over a bridge I had the image of driving off the side. Of course I couldn’t because I had my baby in the car and I also had my eight year old who needed me too. But I desperately wanted a way out of the pain that was consuming my whole existence. I felt so guilty that I had even thought about it which made me fall apart even more.
Thankfully I recovered but I was never the same person I was before. That’s ok though, we all change and it made me more aware of just how fragile the mind can be to trauma. I have had relapses over the years since then but I know my early warning signs and generally bounce back quickly.
My experiences have made me a better nurse and a better human being. I try to treat people how I would like to be treated if I ever found myself in a similar situation. The unit I work in sees a lot of aggression and extremely unwell patients who are admitted involuntarily. I try to give them as many choices as I can in regards to their care which is not always easy or possible.
I hope to share my view of the world I live in from the perspectives of a mother, a nurse, and of a human being who also struggles with depression and anxiety. I will share many personal stories and hope that people find strength and hope through my words.
