Mental Health
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First diagnosed with depression about 14 years ago. My Mum found me after I had had a complete breakdown, almost catatonic, and ran for the doctor (fortunately, the GP surgery was across the road). He looked at me for about 2 minutes, prescribed drugs and that was that. And thus began my adventure with mental health problems. I don't recall any of this, I have massive patches of missing time and an ever-failing memory these days.
For a long time I had health insurance and was seen privately. It was no better than the NHS.
I'm currently wearing a "borderline personality disorder" label, although I imagine that will change and have been checked by the local crisis care team on a couple of occasions as suspected schizophrenic (no) and because they feared that I was a danger to myself and other people. I have had hallucinations and still have them and am on a jolly blend of tri-cyclic antidepressants and anti-psychotics, with lorazepam to control my panic attacks and something else that I don't recall and cannot be bothered to go downstairs and look at (and a couple of other things to counter some side effects of the things that I have to take).
It sucks. It feels a lot like my life has been ruined and there are things that I would like to do but cannot. Right now I have a chipped tooth, I should probably see a dentist before it gets a lot worse, I cannot bring myself to do it. I desperately want to see my favourite musician play, I cannot do that either because I can panic attack so violently that I puke.
I am told that my next step is an MRI. Already been for an EEG. Starting to feel a lot like they suspect that there is a physical manifestation somewhere. At least it would be an answer.
It feels very much like I inherited a predisposition to mental problems - I can trace mental health problems on both sides of my family (my Mum once told me that her Grandmother had held a pillow down over her face and was in an institution for a time). It feels like I have done it all and seen it all - had every kind of therapy and it isn't getting better. Indeed, over the last couple of years it has become worse.
And yes, it is still badly stigmatised. At first glance I look fine - weight is maybe a bit high but that's 14 years of side effect laden medication for you - if I had a broken leg, people would understand that something is wrong. But because I have mental health problems people assume that I should be a drooling imbecilic bag lady. Even my psychiatrists don't seem to like that I'm not a moron and can understand a lot of what has happened, even if I cannot control it. I have a degree, with honours, in Law. I was once well educated and able and although my memory is poor, I'm not stupid and didn't become stupid overnight when I got sick.
As a layman who has been dragged through the system for a few years my advice would be this - If you worry that something is wrong, get an early diagnosis. Get it attended to. Don't just let them hand you pills, demand more. Demand answers until you get them. And I know that this can be hard - when you are the one that is ill you are often the one least able to go in to bat. Educate yourself too. Understand what medication you have been given and why. Understand what it will and will not do. Medication is just one part of recovery - don't accept it as the only part, it is the "easy" answer for them but not necessarily for you. Ask about other help.
And yes, that last part is hypocrisy for me. Another piece of advice - don't threaten to smack someone in the face with a keyboard because you want to see how many swings it takes for the keys to fall off. Especially not when that someone is the supervising doctor at the facility you attend. You end up being seen by other junior doctors on 6 month secondments in rooms with no furniture other than 2 plastic chairs. In my defence, he asked me a stupid fucking question...
For a long time I had health insurance and was seen privately. It was no better than the NHS.
I'm currently wearing a "borderline personality disorder" label, although I imagine that will change and have been checked by the local crisis care team on a couple of occasions as suspected schizophrenic (no) and because they feared that I was a danger to myself and other people. I have had hallucinations and still have them and am on a jolly blend of tri-cyclic antidepressants and anti-psychotics, with lorazepam to control my panic attacks and something else that I don't recall and cannot be bothered to go downstairs and look at (and a couple of other things to counter some side effects of the things that I have to take).
It sucks. It feels a lot like my life has been ruined and there are things that I would like to do but cannot. Right now I have a chipped tooth, I should probably see a dentist before it gets a lot worse, I cannot bring myself to do it. I desperately want to see my favourite musician play, I cannot do that either because I can panic attack so violently that I puke.
I am told that my next step is an MRI. Already been for an EEG. Starting to feel a lot like they suspect that there is a physical manifestation somewhere. At least it would be an answer.
It feels very much like I inherited a predisposition to mental problems - I can trace mental health problems on both sides of my family (my Mum once told me that her Grandmother had held a pillow down over her face and was in an institution for a time). It feels like I have done it all and seen it all - had every kind of therapy and it isn't getting better. Indeed, over the last couple of years it has become worse.
And yes, it is still badly stigmatised. At first glance I look fine - weight is maybe a bit high but that's 14 years of side effect laden medication for you - if I had a broken leg, people would understand that something is wrong. But because I have mental health problems people assume that I should be a drooling imbecilic bag lady. Even my psychiatrists don't seem to like that I'm not a moron and can understand a lot of what has happened, even if I cannot control it. I have a degree, with honours, in Law. I was once well educated and able and although my memory is poor, I'm not stupid and didn't become stupid overnight when I got sick.
As a layman who has been dragged through the system for a few years my advice would be this - If you worry that something is wrong, get an early diagnosis. Get it attended to. Don't just let them hand you pills, demand more. Demand answers until you get them. And I know that this can be hard - when you are the one that is ill you are often the one least able to go in to bat. Educate yourself too. Understand what medication you have been given and why. Understand what it will and will not do. Medication is just one part of recovery - don't accept it as the only part, it is the "easy" answer for them but not necessarily for you. Ask about other help.
And yes, that last part is hypocrisy for me. Another piece of advice - don't threaten to smack someone in the face with a keyboard because you want to see how many swings it takes for the keys to fall off. Especially not when that someone is the supervising doctor at the facility you attend. You end up being seen by other junior doctors on 6 month secondments in rooms with no furniture other than 2 plastic chairs. In my defence, he asked me a stupid fucking question...
I have Asperger's, which made things "fun" when growing up. Didn't understand why I had so many issues getting on with people, and it got pretty depressing at times.
At uni, I went through a really rough patch and ended up seeing a counsellor. They referred me to an AS specialist, who diagnosed me with it. It was good finding out, as it has helped me understand some of the "annoying" things I do, and why my body language can confuse people at times.
Apparently my mum suspected I had it, but never said that she thought I had it because she didn't think it'd help me
At uni, I went through a really rough patch and ended up seeing a counsellor. They referred me to an AS specialist, who diagnosed me with it. It was good finding out, as it has helped me understand some of the "annoying" things I do, and why my body language can confuse people at times.
Apparently my mum suspected I had it, but never said that she thought I had it because she didn't think it'd help me
It's sad that the people you're seeing for your condition don't see you as you are. Yeah, if you're intelligent/doing well, despite everything, it does make it hard for some people to understand things. Is part of the reason I don't always tell people I have AS, especially with the seemingly growing stigma of "having it" because of people self-diagnosing.Valksy said:
Hope you can get the stuff sorted that you said you wanted to do ^^.
You didn't need to make a "placeholder" post, no one is gonna take up your posting space you silly person, this is spam and I really should report you.Murais said:
And just imagine! There was probably a sad little kid wondering why you wouldn't notice that they needed a friend just as much, if not more than, the children you spent time with.DuctTapeJedi said:
What pisses me off about the whole mental illness issue is that the people who really need help usually don't get it. Depression is over-diagnosed, yet so many people slip below the radar. Frankly, I think the entire system is fucked.
I'm probably just bitter, though.
Tri-cyclics? Wow, they're really harsh on the system. I was first put on a tri-cyclic and in a half-assed suicide attempt overdosed on them, spent a night in the Cardiac ICU, those things are rough. After that I was switched to fluoxetine, and I'm on a high dose of that now, with an anti-psychotic and something that's meant for epileptics, but works for OCD too. Oh, and the occasional xanax for panic attacks.Valksy said:
One psychiatrist I saw was interested in finding just the right anti-depressant for me. Sometimes just a different brand can have an effect that's better or worse than another one.
Luckily I currently have a psych I trust and is willing to give me all the info I need. Plus yeah, it helps to look up what medication you're on yourself and find out just what it's doing to you.
Actually there are therapies out there that can help with OCD, talk to your GP about it and see if they can recommend a psych(ologistst or 'chiatrist) for you. Depending on how severe your OCD is, with a bit of work and/or with medication, things can get better.Finch58 said:
I'm currently 16, and last month, I just found out from my psychologist that I probably have Aspergers. I doubt it will change anything about my current life, but I think it explains so much about my childhood.
On a slightly unrelated note, while on a summer tour in California I defaced several Scientology posters that I happened to come across. Screw them and their war against Psychiatry.
On a slightly unrelated note, while on a summer tour in California I defaced several Scientology posters that I happened to come across. Screw them and their war against Psychiatry.
Well, I'm just a normal person who happens to be very impulsive.
I never plan. (Except when totally forced by imminent failure to keep living the life in an non-planned way.) I can't count how many times have I gotten into trouble because of some "simple tricks" I'd wish to attempt at some moments because of no reason. Though, the parents have taught me patience, so that helps half the times and pretty makes me an unstoppable work-machine. But it only lasts until the next impulse (or "wish to do something" if you will) lasts.
I never plan. (Except when totally forced by imminent failure to keep living the life in an non-planned way.) I can't count how many times have I gotten into trouble because of some "simple tricks" I'd wish to attempt at some moments because of no reason. Though, the parents have taught me patience, so that helps half the times and pretty makes me an unstoppable work-machine. But it only lasts until the next impulse (or "wish to do something" if you will) lasts.
I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder around five years ago - it's been enlightening at best and pretty unbearable at worst, especially in the last two years. I think the hardest part was facing my friends and classmates after a period of absence and explaining where I'd been. I stayed at this clinic several times, and it's a little difficult to just up and say 'yeah, well, I was in a psychiatric hospital because sometimes I get a little crazy.' Coincidentally though, the clinic is actually really close to my school. I still see a psychiatrist, although there was a time where I had a separate psychologist just to listen to me talk about my feelings for an hour every week. And for some time after one of my stays at the clinic, there was this woman from the place who came to my house and talked to me a bit, which I found completely unhelpful.
The depressive part really got to me too, since I was on all this medication that made me feel like a zombie. There were various side effects to each of the different meds, but the main one seemed to just be constantly sleeping. And all the while, my parents expected me to go to school and continue getting good grades, even though I could hardly work up the motivation to get out of bed in the morning, much less work for my future. My parents still have a hard time accepting that mental illness is actually a 'real' illness, and they tended to shove all the monitoring and the caring part to doctors. They're a lot better now, so I can forgive them for being uninformed and not very understanding, but it's tough when they're just lurking around your bedroom, trying to help, but really just wanting to get away from you.
I could go on, but it's already a wall of text.
The depressive part really got to me too, since I was on all this medication that made me feel like a zombie. There were various side effects to each of the different meds, but the main one seemed to just be constantly sleeping. And all the while, my parents expected me to go to school and continue getting good grades, even though I could hardly work up the motivation to get out of bed in the morning, much less work for my future. My parents still have a hard time accepting that mental illness is actually a 'real' illness, and they tended to shove all the monitoring and the caring part to doctors. They're a lot better now, so I can forgive them for being uninformed and not very understanding, but it's tough when they're just lurking around your bedroom, trying to help, but really just wanting to get away from you.
I could go on, but it's already a wall of text.
When i was younger (grade school, type of younger) i was extremely depressed. to the point where i would stand in the kitchen at night for an hour with a knife to my wrists, amazingly, i never actually did it because i was too scared of the pain, death, and everything. looking back im happy i was. but as a result, im extremely happy, to the point where i had no friends and no one to talk to, but was still an incredibly happy person. i find that one you've hit rock bottom on something, if you're able to beat your problems you can become completely immune to it, big or small.
I've been diagnosed with every ailment under the sun by crooked shrinks getting kickbacks from drug companies. I've had more psychoactive drugs in me at the same time than all but the most truly fucked-up street people, all "for your own good".
Then, "against medical advice", I checked myself out as soon as I was old enough to line up an apartment and live on my own (no really, thanks Mom for getting rid of me by parking me in those places because you couldn't fucking parent your son. I think of you every time one of the nightmares wakes me up screaming in a cold sweat. Fuck you, Mom.)
And when the stress of being out on my own started to crack me? I looked in the mirror and yelled at myself in my best R. Lee Ermey impression (sorry neighbors, I'm sure that couldn't have been fun). I haven't looked back in 14 years. No drugs, no medication, no therapy, no bullshit, just taking ownership of and responsibility for my own emotional and mental makeup.
Then, "against medical advice", I checked myself out as soon as I was old enough to line up an apartment and live on my own (no really, thanks Mom for getting rid of me by parking me in those places because you couldn't fucking parent your son. I think of you every time one of the nightmares wakes me up screaming in a cold sweat. Fuck you, Mom.)
And when the stress of being out on my own started to crack me? I looked in the mirror and yelled at myself in my best R. Lee Ermey impression (sorry neighbors, I'm sure that couldn't have been fun). I haven't looked back in 14 years. No drugs, no medication, no therapy, no bullshit, just taking ownership of and responsibility for my own emotional and mental makeup.
I can really relate to this. I've been in a constant depressive state for the past 2 or 3 years, going from times when I almost forget it's there, which makes me functional for short, hectic bursts of activity to times where I actively sabotage any sort of attempt at making things come together in a positive way in my life. I feel like there's nothing I have to live for, that any sort of talent or inspiration I have is wasted on me and I am not or will ever be able to get my shit together in a way that'll accomplish anything. It's very hard to explain to anyone else... as a person I know once said to me "it's hard to be depressed and have a sense of humor - no-one believes you". Truth is, when my humor works, I feel like it's tinged with desperation, like a last stand sort of defense mechanism. When it doesn't, I don't talk to people and I don't surround myself with friends or family at all, I just go all "hermit" on everyone... Anyway... I guess it all stems from a deep feeling of self-loathing and uselessness which I've been fighting against ever since I can remember.Wardnath said:
That was one of most honest and amazing pieces of writing I've seen on this forum. I mean it.Valksy said:
Thank you so much. You make me feel better about having a mental disorder. It's crazy the hoops you have to jump through just to get real answers instead of being palmed off with meds. I'm so glad I'm not alone on this.
Take care, mate. And take it from me, boxing lessons help. It's good to have something to hit. Hard.
It may be worth fighting through the red tape for someone who can teach you how to accept yourself better, which may in turn help your life come together.Taldeer said:
I hate me. I actually don't like the person that I am, not at all. If I stop to think about the person I am, I am filled with self-loathing, because I hate the moody, fat, paranoid, sharp-tongued person I see. But I have learnt to some extent to ignore that. I got taught to talk to myself like I am a small child and to be patient with myself.
It's still not easy for me to look at myself - I still see much more negatives than positives. But I know now I am a work in progress, that I am working to better myself, and that anyone who doesn't accept me can just fuck right off, because if they aren't going to help me, I am not going to let them dictate who I am.
I would suggest seeing a doctor. Best of luck!
Mental health issues run rampant in my father's side of the family and I've gotten a slice of the bad legacy as well. I'm currently depressed for no discernible reason -- I dunno how necessary it is in this thread, but I'll specify that I'm not depressed in the sense that I'm having the sads. My motivation is very low, minutes, hours, and days are a blur, my brain feels like it's floaty and numb, and I have troubles sleeping -- it really does feel like I'm ill. That's basically what it's like for me and my chronically depressed relatives. Unlike my relatives though, who are slightly on the shamanistic hippie-ish side, I've agreed to take meds and I've been on them for a couple of weeks... Hope they do something because seriously, I have school work to do and when you have this hard a time getting up in the morning, it's hardly getting done.
I was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia in 2010.
It's been a real eye opener. I've struggled with alot with negative symptoms (lack of motivation, lack of desire to form relationships and such) for the last 7 years, while positive symptoms (delusions and halucinations, amongst other things) have been less noticeable. I didn't know that just a year ago, though. I thought i was just lazy, socially imcompetent and such.
I spent roughly 6 months of 2010 being at a Psychiatric Center, a total of 3 stays. It was during the second stay that i got the diagnose.
Now i'm struggeling to learn how to live with my mental illness. It's an uphill struggle, specially when it comes to accepting the fact that i am indeed sick. But, here in 2011 i'm starting working with my problems - I've been enrolled in a project called OPUS, for young people with a schizophrenic diagnose, where one learns how to handle the illness.
Anyway, i've learned alot about myself in 2010, and i do have a tiny bit of hope when it comes to what the future may bring.
It's been a real eye opener. I've struggled with alot with negative symptoms (lack of motivation, lack of desire to form relationships and such) for the last 7 years, while positive symptoms (delusions and halucinations, amongst other things) have been less noticeable. I didn't know that just a year ago, though. I thought i was just lazy, socially imcompetent and such.
I spent roughly 6 months of 2010 being at a Psychiatric Center, a total of 3 stays. It was during the second stay that i got the diagnose.
Now i'm struggeling to learn how to live with my mental illness. It's an uphill struggle, specially when it comes to accepting the fact that i am indeed sick. But, here in 2011 i'm starting working with my problems - I've been enrolled in a project called OPUS, for young people with a schizophrenic diagnose, where one learns how to handle the illness.
Anyway, i've learned alot about myself in 2010, and i do have a tiny bit of hope when it comes to what the future may bring.