Bill
02-10-07, 01:41
This gives a brief history.
Ever since I was born, I have had a fear of being left on my own. As a child I was afraid of using the school toilets and as a teenager I was so nervous of school and exams I’d often be sick, so without my parents knowing I’d take kaolin and morphine to settle my stomach.
I also hated being the last person to leave the house and having to lock up so I’d check and re-check over and over for fear of being blamed if something went wrong. I also developed a fear of illnesses and would often be sick if I saw programmes about illness on television.
I’ve always been a worrier, lived in fear and used to be painfully shy before I started work. It took a long time before I gained confidence, opened up and eventually held group meetings and trained others.
I first met my wife-to-be after she'd come out of hospital with paranoia and we were married in the same year we met.
I supported her as best I could but it was extremely difficult as she would often accuse me of being someone I wasn’t and of planning or trying to harm her. She would also believe that strangers were against her, even people on television or radio. I’d lock myself in the bathroom or walk out to avoid the mental bombardment but there was no escape or support to turn to. As a result of trying to cope alone with her illness, the lack of support we received from the “Professionals”, and the daily pressures of a full time job, my own health began to suffer.
I was under a lot of pressure to complete a project at work and I had too much on my mind so I was unable to concentrate on what was being said by colleagues who often told me that I appeared “distant” at meetings.
Also at this time we had a dog that we were very fond of but after owning him for only 2 years he started to become ill and we later lost him.
I started to suffer panic attacks in the office and I would contemplate suicide I went to see the doctor who prescribed an anti-depressant. He also signed me off but the attacks became worse and in the end I had to resign from my job.
Various anti-depressants were then prescribed with no lasting effects so as a last resort after trying them all I was given ECT treatment. When this also had no effect, the Mental Health Team decided that I was not suffering from a “clinical illness” but instead concluded that I was suffering from a “severe anxiety disorder”. I was therefore prescribed Valium, which unknowingly I became addicted to, but my health continued to deteriorate and my panic attacks worsened. I started to self-harm. I needed to vent my frustrations to somehow relieve my mental anguish so I took it out on myself with a hammer or knife, whatever I could find. For a time I also became agoraphobic and was afraid of walking down the road or going in shops for fear of suffering panic attacks.
I felt extremely frustrated and desperately isolated so I started having e-mail conversations with The Samaritans. Also to “dull the pain of life” I turned to drink and overdoses but after a doctor told me “One more of them and you might not still be here” I decided to try to help myself.
Looking back on this period, it seems incredible to me the things I did and how close I came to ending it all, but I was desperate as no one would ever listen to me or appeared to understand me. I felt I didn’t belong, alone and trapped. The frustrations and pressures became immense.
My first step to recovery was to attempt to come off the Valium, which I achieved after 6 months by gradually reducing the dosage. I also decided to turn my efforts to helping others by trying to prevent them from going through my experiences and also took up Voluntary work helping the sick and elderly. I tried to make sure that I obtained everything I could to help my wife and fought for help from Social Services.
I also began research into my uncle who was killed in an aircraft accident in 1944 and as a result I was interviewed on BBC and New Zealand radio which since I used to be extremely shy I regarded as a big achievement for me.
I have also started working in our local hospital, which I hope will bring me one step closer to a life of normality. As a hobby I turned to writing poetry which enabled me to offload feelings.
My wife is also more stable under her present medication, she now receives all the support she has always needed and I never do the things I used to or experience the panic attacks I used to have. I am also now finding a lot of satisfaction in being able to help others in my voluntary and hospital job. More recently I also supported my mother caring for my father who we lost a couple of years ago so I now also support my mother but I have learnt how to cope with my anxieties without support or medication. I still feel isolated but I do now take with me “hope” for a better future.
Ever since I was born, I have had a fear of being left on my own. As a child I was afraid of using the school toilets and as a teenager I was so nervous of school and exams I’d often be sick, so without my parents knowing I’d take kaolin and morphine to settle my stomach.
I also hated being the last person to leave the house and having to lock up so I’d check and re-check over and over for fear of being blamed if something went wrong. I also developed a fear of illnesses and would often be sick if I saw programmes about illness on television.
I’ve always been a worrier, lived in fear and used to be painfully shy before I started work. It took a long time before I gained confidence, opened up and eventually held group meetings and trained others.
I first met my wife-to-be after she'd come out of hospital with paranoia and we were married in the same year we met.
I supported her as best I could but it was extremely difficult as she would often accuse me of being someone I wasn’t and of planning or trying to harm her. She would also believe that strangers were against her, even people on television or radio. I’d lock myself in the bathroom or walk out to avoid the mental bombardment but there was no escape or support to turn to. As a result of trying to cope alone with her illness, the lack of support we received from the “Professionals”, and the daily pressures of a full time job, my own health began to suffer.
I was under a lot of pressure to complete a project at work and I had too much on my mind so I was unable to concentrate on what was being said by colleagues who often told me that I appeared “distant” at meetings.
Also at this time we had a dog that we were very fond of but after owning him for only 2 years he started to become ill and we later lost him.
I started to suffer panic attacks in the office and I would contemplate suicide I went to see the doctor who prescribed an anti-depressant. He also signed me off but the attacks became worse and in the end I had to resign from my job.
Various anti-depressants were then prescribed with no lasting effects so as a last resort after trying them all I was given ECT treatment. When this also had no effect, the Mental Health Team decided that I was not suffering from a “clinical illness” but instead concluded that I was suffering from a “severe anxiety disorder”. I was therefore prescribed Valium, which unknowingly I became addicted to, but my health continued to deteriorate and my panic attacks worsened. I started to self-harm. I needed to vent my frustrations to somehow relieve my mental anguish so I took it out on myself with a hammer or knife, whatever I could find. For a time I also became agoraphobic and was afraid of walking down the road or going in shops for fear of suffering panic attacks.
I felt extremely frustrated and desperately isolated so I started having e-mail conversations with The Samaritans. Also to “dull the pain of life” I turned to drink and overdoses but after a doctor told me “One more of them and you might not still be here” I decided to try to help myself.
Looking back on this period, it seems incredible to me the things I did and how close I came to ending it all, but I was desperate as no one would ever listen to me or appeared to understand me. I felt I didn’t belong, alone and trapped. The frustrations and pressures became immense.
My first step to recovery was to attempt to come off the Valium, which I achieved after 6 months by gradually reducing the dosage. I also decided to turn my efforts to helping others by trying to prevent them from going through my experiences and also took up Voluntary work helping the sick and elderly. I tried to make sure that I obtained everything I could to help my wife and fought for help from Social Services.
I also began research into my uncle who was killed in an aircraft accident in 1944 and as a result I was interviewed on BBC and New Zealand radio which since I used to be extremely shy I regarded as a big achievement for me.
I have also started working in our local hospital, which I hope will bring me one step closer to a life of normality. As a hobby I turned to writing poetry which enabled me to offload feelings.
My wife is also more stable under her present medication, she now receives all the support she has always needed and I never do the things I used to or experience the panic attacks I used to have. I am also now finding a lot of satisfaction in being able to help others in my voluntary and hospital job. More recently I also supported my mother caring for my father who we lost a couple of years ago so I now also support my mother but I have learnt how to cope with my anxieties without support or medication. I still feel isolated but I do now take with me “hope” for a better future.