I am 28 years old. I have a brilliant family. Supportive friends. An amazing fiancé. A permanent job in what I have always wanted to be since I was a little girl. I have what people would say, a fantastic life. But I also have had a problem since I was 17 years old. I have been hospitalised, medicated, seen doctors, psychiatrists, psychologists, councillors, listened to CD’s, read self-help books, you name it, I’ve done it.
My mental health problem is one that I have left slide in and out of my life whenever it wanted. It consumed so many fantastic moments of my life, making me belittle them, making me belittle myself. It is a problem that although I have had since secondary school, it is something I thought I had taken control of in the past year.
I have made huge steps. In 2015, after another awful summer of panic attacks, crying sessions and suicidal thoughts, I realised, only then, that this is it. I have a problem. A lifelong one. A problem that will consume me if I let it. And I wasn’t going to. I had a great life and now I was going to fight for it.
Naming and acknowledging that, in itself, was a huge step. A step that made me so much braver, a step that allowed me to share my problem with family, friends and colleagues. And all that sharing really and truly helped. It’s like what they say; the first part of overcoming a problem is admitting you have one.
I recently moved to Wexford from Cork, not a big move, only a two hour journey, but any move is a big move if you think about it. A move means change. Change can be difficult. I am not alone down here, I have a fantastic job and things are going brilliantly with my fiancé. I can’t complain, or at least I feel I shouldn’t. But to tell the truth, I found the move isolating, stressful and nerve-racking. So, I did what I do every so often – I looked up support groups in the area and then put off doing anything about it.
There are so many support groups for people suffering with mental health difficulties in Ireland today. If you look, you’ll probably find one within a town radius. I often looked up support groups, would find one and then convince myself that if I went, the people in the group would judge me for my past, my present, what I say, what I do. I was too scared.
Again and again I put it off until the day came where I could not open the door to my apartment because I had such a horrific panic attack. I dropped everything in my hands and then dropped to the floor. That evening I decided I was going to make myself go to the meeting. My family, fiancé and friends were great but as one of my friends always says, they can only treat me with sympathy, not empathy.
So I went. I’m not going to lie, for the first week I just listened to everyone and cried silently. Crying because they were so many people around me, young, old, male, female, employed, unemployed, all going through this horrific disease as well. And you know what, even in my silent tears and trembling, I felt the support already. We go there, all from different paths of life with the same struggle, to feel support, to feel like we are not alone, to feel empathy.
I have been going for a few months now, every Wednesday night. I look forward to the next week’s meeting as soon as one ends.
There is a man in the group who has been going for ten years. He says at every meeting that he is in good health, mentally and physically, that he comes to be a support for others like others were for him. He has been through it all, mental health difficulties and recently the other side of cancer. He is just one of the inspirational people that turn up.
He says every week, cancer made him want to live, and depression made him want to die. You see, depression makes you feel like your brain, who you are in every way, is dying, and you just want it done. But we must try to remember, this too will pass. It might come back, those terrible feelings, thoughts, but this support group has taught me that I want to live, and I can.
Please look up support groups that might be in your area. Please go. We can get through this if we help each other. You are not alone.