For anyone who stumbles upon this blog and doesn’t know, the current point in my mental health journey sometimes feels like it is still just beginning despite the fact I had my breakdown in April 2018. I did rally somewhat from that initial breakdown only to have another in July. This one landed me in the Prince Charles Hospital for a 6 night stint in their Mental Health Wards. I really haven’t made much progress since then, despite a additional 3 week stay in the Mental Health Wards at Caboolture Hospital in November.
Where am I today? Today was day 1 of starting a new antidepressant: Effexor XR. I have been on a bit of a cocktail of drugs since my breakdown with complete changes when I was in Caboolture Hospital. Unfortunately I haven’t yet found the right medication and/or combination of medications to get me to a sufficiently functioning place to be able to tackle my mental illness... a severe generalised anxiety disorder with (practically housebound) agoraphobia. I have been weaned off medications (sometimes much too quickly) and started on others that have had little to no effect. I have very high hopes for the Effexor because I need to - I am running out of options. It’s a scary thought.
Day 1 was not too bad, as you’d expect as the drug hasn’t had a chance to build up in my system yet. Despite this, I did spend a few hours this morning feeling anxious about potential side effects. The last antidepressant I tried (just last week) had side effects I found so unpleasant that I gave up after 4 days. This time I know I need to do everything to try and stick it out if side effects come on. The one that always gets me is nausea. Why is that, you ask? Well, nausea happens to be one of the main side effects I experience with my anxiety. My agoraphobia stems from a fear of being ill in public and embarrassing myself. This has never, ever, not once, happened. My rational brain knows this. My unhelpful thoughts choose to be intrusive and make me think ‘but this time might be different’. I’ve taken to carrying a sick bag in my handbag. I really look forward to the day I take that damn thing out of there.
So that’s a bit of an intro/where I’m at. I don’t know how often I’ll post but I might use this as a public journal of sorts. People say I’m brave for being so open about my mental illness but I see it as just trying to help people understand what I (and so many others) are going through.
My goal is to get my life back. One year ago I was working, spending time with friends, going to the theatre and for the most part, really enjoying life. I know that if I was there, I can get back to that. Also, I’ve beaten this before... but that was a long time ago and a different story to be told.
1 comment:
You are brave, and I am sure that documenting your journey will help not only others but you too. You'll be able to chart your progress to the other end, when you emerge into the sunlight and the darkness is behind you. And you surely will! For years I carried a sick bag with me at all times and had them in the car too, because I suffered from migraines and life had to go on . . .I used to get friends and family to save me the aeroplane sick bags whenever they flew anywhere. So, you're not alone there! God bless you, Kerry.
Ros
Post a Comment