I was six when I had my first dealings with the NHS over depression and anxiety. In primary school, my music teacher and my priest both took their own lives and my granddad died - causing me to lose my hair through alopecia.
During high school, I lay on a trampoline with my friends around me, where I said to them that I was so exhausted and I could not carry on. I was suffering a break down but I did not know it. At sixteen, struggling to cope, seeing no way out and feeling a disappointment to my loved ones - I tried to take my own life. I was taken to hospital - the NHS staff were wonderful who took care of me and I spoke to a Consultant Psychiatrist - who were all great but I left knowing I was going back to my life of being unwell.
I was told in college by teachers that they knew I was suffering but if I was not able to talk, they did not know what to do with me anymore. At this point, I still struggled to ask for help. I just couldn't do it even though I knew it was obvious to everyone around me that I was in crisis.
I had been in denial for years about my mental illnesses, thinking if I tried harder to be normal like everyone else who seemed to cope with life, then my problems would go away eventually on their own.
Everyone else seemed to cope fine - why couldn't I?
At university, I had to take time out for a year as I had become ill again. My University tutor was wonderful. I had cognitive behavioural therapy and started taking anti-depressants. I also did group therapy. All of this really helped and I was able to complete my degree.
However, in a false sense of security, I thought now that I was feeling better I would come off my anti-depressants a few years later.
Over the following few years, I made great leaps, however, when my life felt that it should be at its best and I was on top of the world, I could feel the familiar feeling of illness beginning again. In hindsight, I know that I may need to be on anti-depressants for life.
I had nothing to worry about, my life was all in order, I had no money worries, I was in a great relationship and yet, to make an analogy, it felt like a radio was blaring out white noise in the background. My anxiety started building again - I felt paranoid that everyone was watching me, judging me and didn't like me. I started to avoid going out, I didn't want to leave my house.
Around Christmas time, I knew I was becoming ill as I felt a panic attack whenever I had to leave the house. By Summer time, my body and mind - having had near a year of constant blaring of anxiety and nervous agitation and energy - totally shut down.
To make a comparison, if I was a computer, the power went off. I felt numb and emotionally dead inside.
This time, like the time before at Uni, I felt very comfortable asking for help. I went to the GP straight away. At this point, it seemed I was becoming ill every five years or so. I was distraught when I spoke to the Doctor's saying how I knew I was a failure and if I couldn't have overcome my illnesses by now that I never would. I felt like giving up. This was the worse I had felt. Maybe being older and more conscious of it, I felt very worn down.
By this time as well, I had taken a few knocks - having had to deal with being caused long-term injury in work (I was assaulted) where I had to live with my life being changed forever, everyday and deal with the pain but they got to move on with their life. I had also dealt with being bullied in work.
The GP's that helped me were so wonderful and empathetic. They met me where I was emotionally and said how sorry they were that I was so depressed. That meant so much to me.
I was put on a wait list for higher-intensity cognitive behavioural therapy and was put back on anti-depressants (but not the ones that worked for me a few years ago). We tried a couple of others first - one: gave me a sleep hangover and the second: I put on three stone. Not withstanding that when I went to the GP I was so despondent and then it took another 6 - 8 weeks for any tablet to take effect. Eventually I went back on the tablets that worked for me a few years beforehand, which I am still on to this day. That helped me.
I experienced huge relationship problems at this time which pushed me even further into despair. By the time Christmas rolled around, I called the CPN who had spoken to me in distress saying I needed therapy or help - something - I felt I couldn't go on. It was still another six months until I had my therapy.
By this time, I had fought so hard to help myself - despite the fact I had no energy to do anything.
I felt - this is it for me - if I give everything and still want to end my life then so be it, but first, I would go all out. I am so glad I did.
I went to my high-intensity cognitive behavioural therapy and it really helped save my life and has set me up to live my best life. To this day, I use the techniques I built from these sessions to keep myself well and to recognise any signs that my stress is building so I can deal with it.
During these sessions, I also dealt with the trauma from my assault - which until my therapist talked to me about it, I didn't realise how deeply it had affected me.
I managed to get myself into full-time work, I now have my own car and I am financially independent - dreams I had always had but due to my illness in the past I wondered whether I would ever be able to do for myself.
I have been a high-achiever throughout my life but being mentally ill alongside being a perfectionist was very difficult. Since being in full-time work, I have managed to achieve my best, even achieving my dream job despite having to overcome a lot of obstacles due to my past illness.
I have never thought that my past illness should be a barrier to my success and so it has proved.
It has been a difficult road and I have certainly taken a lot of knocks along the way, I sometimes wonder whether I am one of those people who will always experience tough cards being dealt, however, I appreciate every day I am here (I am so glad to be alive and to be here) and every day is a win.
I am privileged to know that I have helped so many people - especially those in mental health crises. I know that I continue to help others.
I am so grateful for the stability of my job, family life, friends, money and most importantly, my health - both mental and physical. I have made my health my priority since I was last ill - and it has done me the world of good.
How can you ever help anyone else unless you are well yourself?
I am in unprecedented territory as I have some self confidence and self esteem for once, I have insight to my conditions and I am realistic. I, of course, can never predict what the future holds but I am proud to be me and I wouldn't swap with anyone. I can't wait for my future!
