This one will do what it says on the tin – the journey with my mental health. I’ve spoken about many things on my blog, and off my blog, but I’ve not discussed my journey with my mental health. And it’s a hell of a journey, so apologies if this is long. Even though all my posts end up being short stories.
I don’t even know where to start, because there never really was a start that I recognised. There was a turning point, a shock realisation, but not a definitive start. I guess winters I’ve suffered with what I referred to as winter blues since I was a teenager. I was just a little mopey. I always put it down to my parents divorce, it wasn’t peachy at the time. It ended up being separate Christmas’s etc. I assumed that was the cause of Christmas not being a festive time for me. Though that changed many years back, and while still divorced, they are on great terms and we share family Christmas once more. But my blue continued, perhaps wounds yet to heal.
I’ve been in 3 serious relationships in my life. In that they were seriously toxic and sometimes abusive. The second one in particular affected me mentally, it caused me to alienate my friends during the length of the relationship and it wasn’t until a year after that I felt sufficiently less embarrassed enough to get back in touch with them. Post relationship I was a wreck, he lived with me. The abuse went on under my own roof, and it was several months after I ended it that he finally moved out. I spent that time sleeping on the floor in the spare room. I didn’t recognise after that I was suffering from the mental damage caused. I thought I was just sad, as we all ate at times. When it’s just sad and not poor mental health. Looking back I now know I was wrong, it was poor mental health.
As a person I am a people pleaser. I’ve done things I’ve not wanted to do, because it’s what the person I’m with wants. I didn’t tell people when they’d hurt me, I didn’t stand up for myself. I’d stand up for others, but never myself. I’d never address my own needs, because I thought others needs were superior to mine. I was easily manipulated, easily submissive and easily ignored.This has played a huge part in the demise of my metal health.
In 2019 I was in the 3rd relationship. I remained guarded and took it slow before I felt like this person had good intentions. From my view, I was sorely mistaken. And then manipulation and gaslighting really picked up heading into the winter, particularly financial manipulation. My “winter blues” were particularly bad that year. The relationship became increasingly bad through into the new year by which point my friends sat me down and addressed the concerns they had for my mental health. Of course I told them it was just my usual winter blues, it’ll pass.
As I said in a previous post, I lived with Hannah for nearly 4 years and she saw during that time that my mental health was not just winter blues. It was something that impacted me in all seasons. So she of course pointed this out to me and said I don’t think this is winter blues, this is serious and we’re concerned. Fast forward to the end of February 2020. I was not in a good place, but I still didn’t recognise this fully. My relationship was really damaging by this point, and the person got a thrill out of kicking me when I was down – called it just making jokes. 29th of February I was competing in Eastbourne and I was mentally getting messier by the day. I had to weigh in the day before and I decided I wanted to be alone at this competition, told my partner I was going alone. So on the 28th I drove down first thing, very early, ready to weigh in at 9am. I weighed in and took myself off to get the biggest breakfast I could find, as is tradition after all my weigh ins. Throughout the entire morning and afternoon I was getting guilt trips and vicious messages from my partner for going alone. Zero support, just abuse. He knew what he was doing. Looking back I now know I was what would be described as manic, and probably had been in that state for a few days. I didn’t want that to ruin my trip. Every qualifier competition I pick a new destination to go to and explore it with my family the day before my comps, after weigh in. So I told myself I was going to do that even if I was alone. I’d scouted out a few places prior to the trip, starting with beachy head light house. I’m not sure if you can remember but that weekend was horrendous storms, torrential rain and exceptionally high winds. So I headed off, driving up the beachy head cliffs. The wind constantly threatening to roll my car off the road the closer I got to the top. And suddenly I was calm. Pure, blissful peace. A good place to die.
That was how I felt, I was suddenly at peace and knew what I needed to do. I couldn’t see for torrential rain, low clouds etc etc and I wasn’t sure I was on the right side of the road so I pulled into a lay-by around where the lighthouse should have been, right at the top of these cliffs. I got out with the wind trying to force my door shut on me and a car pulled up. Coast guard – it’s not safe up here miss, you need to turn around and head back down. Through the rain that had soaked me through they couldn’t see the tears streaming from my eyes. Yes of course, sorry I was lost. So I got back in my car and turned around, they’d just driven off and I pulled into the lay-by opposite the one I’d just pulled out of. Still this feeling of calm, peaceful determination. It may sound selfish but I had no thoughts of anyone else, just a need to maintain this peace. So once again I got out my car, but as I was facing the other direction to before, the wind didn’t try and blow my door shut of me, it blew my door the other way. It snapped the hinge and suddenly I was trying to hold onto the door that the wind continued to try to rip from my car. I got out and used my weight to pull the door back round, quickly jumping into the car. The door wouldn’t shut, it was completely out of line, along with the broken hinge. The first thing I could think of was to use all charging cables, crack the windows a bit, and tie it to the pillar, between the front and rear door. All the while I sobbed. Deep, heart wrenching sobs. And I couldn’t stop them. Door semi secured I just sat and balled. I eventually called my insurance who told me I had to remain where I was, in 70mph winds threatening to roll the car, and recovery would come get me. I then called my dad with some bs story about I thought the wind had thrown something at the car and I got out to check for damage etc. I was only on my way to a pub that had great fish and chip reviews. He would then start making his way to Eastbourne, as it was a non fault ‘accident’ I wasn’t entitled to a hire car via the insurance. I was still sobbing. I called my mum, sobbing, and I recall saying ‘I just wish this wind would blow me over’. I think she then knew what a state I was truly in. She got my brother to call me, making jokes about turning my door into a kite. My sister called and as a fellow mental health sufferer immediately knew where I was, in a deep manic state. After 3 hours of bouncing between family members on the phone I suddenly no longer felt safe on the cliff and instead drove my car the half mile to the pub where the coast guards were based. As they’d been checking on me every half hour I think this was a relief to them too.
A post on my therapist blog, www.tomlintherapy.com, discusses a little more about the mental state when you’re suicidal. It describes it better than I ever could: “you are not there for me In that space, your love or existence doesn’t matter to me. That may sound harsh or brutal, but if you think about anyone that has ever committed suicide, if they were thinking about how much they loved someone or how much that person loved them. They wouldn’t do it! For some reason when our mind enters that space all the things that matter to us and the things that could help bring us around just can’t enter with us. Its like there’s a no entry sign at the door for all of it.” It’s a very sad truth, in that moment all we are thinking about is finding peace, wanting all the pain, hurt, anger, and everything else in between, to stop. The reality is the the love an existence of our loved ones mean EVERYTHING to us, but we just can’t see it or feel it. It’s like it’s in a different dimension that’s inaccessible to us.
Anyway. Some 7 hours after my initial call a recovery truck arrived. He drove me to my air bnb and even retrieved all my bags (which is a lot for a comp weekend!) and brought them into the house for me so I didn’t have to be in the rain. A truly lovely man. On the way to the air bnb he remarked how it was a nice change to recover a car complete with driver from those cliffs as often he’s collecting empty cars from those that have committed suicide there. All I could say was ‘huh really? That’s sad’. Not like I was going to admit it. And I didn’t admit it for nearly a month. The following day, after approximately 2 hours sleep, some stogy chips and a beer for dinner, and a banana for breakfast my dad and I headed off to my competition. Also worth noting, this was all off for my usual comp weekend routine. I have a big breakfast post weigh in, then dinner and lunch are nutritious meals, zero alcohol, 8 hours sleep and a gentle but fuelling breakfast with chicken dishes for food during the comp. So it was all off, as was I. I met some wonderful people at this comp, my coach Mark was there with his son Eli and it was an amazing atmosphere. No one knew what I’d tried to do the day before. I just got into my normal comp routine, won, cried again and headed home with my dad. Pretending to curse whatever the wind had thrown at my car that made me stop 🙄
This was my turning point. Not immediately, but it was the catalyst. I realised I was actually extremely far from ok and needed serious help. In hindsight, for the next month at least that I can remember, I was still a danger to myself and should have probably asked to check in somewhere. But I did ask the docs for help, who of course gave the usual spiel of there’s nothing wrong with you, it’s a chemical imbalance, we’ll do a prescription and get a metal health nurse to call. Which they did and eventually in august I got access to the online SilverCloud programme. During the period it took for this referral, I was punishing myself by denying myself food. As lockdown hit, I didn’t have much kit or motivation to train. When I did it was to take funny videos to post online, keeping up my ‘Theres nothing wrong’ facade. I then decided that I needed to reduce my calories in line with my reduced training. I lost 12kg in the first lockdown, dropping to 50kg, and a size 4. This was NOT healthy food restrictions and was probably closer to an eating disorder. I did however start getting into practicing mindfulness.
Looking back it’s a little amusing, I believed the docs when they said I had a chemical imbalance. As I started in mindfulness and guided meditation I thought I was starting to be in a really good place, though I’d often find some really horrible memories coming up in meditation. I was part of a peer mental health support group and even started doing videos on things I’d learned or was implementing to make each day, or even just each hour a little more manageable. I still practice mindfulness, and I meditate in a much safer way. But I was foolish to believe that I was doing well. I started silver cloud, and one of the exercises asked about past traumatic events etc. this really triggered me. I wrote in the section to the assessor that this had put me into a dark place with suicidal intentions again. I was told we’re here to deal with present issues, not the past.
I continued through the programme, they even had people call several times to check on my well being after I’d made comments about what this course was doing to me, but no actual help. More like just checking you’re still there, the assessor will address the issues further in her weekly report. Her weekly report was ‘glad to see you’ve checked in and managed to do this weeks exercises’. That was it, not a fucking assessment but a pat on the back. This was a total fail in helping someone in deep need of it.
A friend had recommended a private therapist called Lee. With no help coming my way from the doctors I reached out to set up an appointment. And this was the best decision I’ve ever made.
I didn’t have a fucking chemical imbalance, I had years of repressed trauma and pain that had been left to fester. Through the docs I had been assessed to have sever depression and anxiety, but Lee was the one to actually help me learn to manage these while also healing and working through what brought to that point on beachy head.
Im going to leave this one there. For two reasons, one – this has got very long. I wanted it to be authentic, I wanted to truth of my experience to finally be put into words. Second – Lee and my journey with her deserves its own post. She’s still my therapist, I currently see her twice a week. But someone who has honestly saved my life multiple times doesn’t deserve to be a foot note on a long ass blog.