I’ve been a bit absent as of late trying to mentally recharge as I had a little bit of a setback.

Life will always throw you curveballs and I’ve had a fair few of them thrown at me jut recently, the first of which being my partner. I decided to give him yet another chance and once again he has blown it. Using a persons mental health against them is not how a loving relationship should function. He claims that “I don’t care”, yet I have rearranged my whole schedule so I’m available for when he has surgery and to look after him afterwards. I have stayed up until stupid o’clock in the morning with him talking through the procedure because he’s nervous, even though I have early starts at work the next day. But apparently that’s “not caring”.

My next curveball has actually been my job itself. I work in the healthcare sector so you’d think they’d be more sympathetic towards your mental health needs, but you’d be wrong. Yes I have meetings every two weeks with my management whilst I’m on stage but they never listen to what you’re actually saying. One of the reasons my anxiety flares up is because of one of the particular sections I work on. I have to complete a competency because I’m still training but I don’t feel ready to do the full thing just yet. I asked for a baseline competency which I am getting but now there I all this pressure from nowhere to have the full competency done in a month. When I said I did not feel confident enough to be left on my own to run this clinic once “signed off” I was told that it was basically do it or go back down a banding and do the work I used to do for less money. It’s no way to treat a staff member who is still recovering from her mental health issues.

My third curveball actually came off the back of the previous. I was fed up with the way that I had been treated by my management that I actually started browsing other job opportunities. The first few I actually applied for were closer to my hometown and although I didn’t get an interview for one I did the second job. It was the same role as what I was doing now, but more money and a private clinic so it would be quieter and therefore less stressful. However, my anxiety kicked in and I ended up not going for the job. I then received an interview for a completely different job role but this time where I am currently living. I didn’t get myself worked up about it and last Friday I actually went along to Mansfield to be interviewed. Trying to keep my anxiety levels down whilst travelling somewhere I’d never been before, to a hospital I’d never been to and a building that you couldn’t find on google maps was definitely a challenge, and that was all before the interview actually took place.

The interview itself consisted of two group activities and then a solo interview. Throughout the morning the realisation started to dawn on me that everyone there was more qualified than me for the job and that dark cloud started to descend over my weak attempt of keeping calm. During my interview you are asked to disclose any prolonged sickness periods and that meant having to disclose my mental illness. Luckily there was no judgement and I went away feeling a little less depressed than I had going in to the interview. However, later on that day I got the inevitable rejection phone call. Even though I knew it was coming it was still hard for my brain to process it.

I am still applying for jobs and hoping that I can get somewhere that won’t judge my mental illness and help me in my struggles rather than just letting me deal with it on my own. I am finally getting my CBT to help with the OCD I’ve been struggling with and my doctors are so happy with my progress that they are hoping to wean me off my antidepressants in the next five months.

Slowly but surely I am making progress, and even though there have been knocks I am determined to come out of it the other side smiling.

So I’ve been MIA for a little while and that’s mainly because my anxiety levels have been through the roof. I had my dosage of antidepressants changed and was warned that it might cause a little bit of imbalance for the first few weeks while it settled into my system.

First off, a little bit off an imbalance was an understatement. I cried at the tiniest little thing, for example, my teabag splitting in my cup so I had to remake my tea. My sleep pattern has gone completely out of sync so all I want to do is sleep all day and stay awake all night, not handy when you work day shifts in healthcare.

The main issue I have though is that when my anxiety flairs up I tend to scratch myself, even if my skin isn’t itchy. I noticed this symptom when I was officially diagnosed back in April. I never really paid any attention to it before until my doctor asked me why I was scratching the back of my arm as she was explaining my diagnosis. Since then I’ve been trying to not scratch myself but I’ve now found that I’ve started to do it in my sleep, not ideal when you’re trying to break yourself out of the habit.

My legs have become subject to this torture I’ve inflicted on myself and I’m still covered in bruises. Unfortunately once I start to itch I can’t stop and the bruises show up almost instantaneously. The images below show the extent of my scratching but I’m hoping that once my medication has settled back down again my anxiety will be better controlled.

So the past few days have not been so good for me. Tuesday saw my depression and anxiety hit an all time high, something I have not experienced so far during my recovery. My brain has been focusing too much on events from the past year which of course isn’t helped when you have to talk through them with your therapist on a weekly basis.

My battle with OCD was also tested as I had plans cancelled on me at the last minute. My OCD is based around scheduling and time keeping, and I struggle to cope when plans that have been made are cancelled on the day.

I spent my Tuesday crying, trying to get rid of all the emotions, but I find on days like that all I want to do is curl up in bed and sleep the day away (which I know isn’t healthy). Obviously because I had slept most of the day I did not sleep much that night and woke up Wednesday morning for work very groggy with puffy eyes and generally looking like crap.

When I arrived at work I was informed that I’d have to work on a room on my own which I didn’t feel safe to do in my current mental state. When I mentioned this to my Senior they were happy to let me work in the main room so I was surrounded by my colleagues.

An hour later I was called into my line managers office for a “discussion” about my current state. Now I cannot fault my employers for their actions, after all they were looking out for my well being as well as the patients I would be seeing, however I was sent home to an empty flat which was exactly the place I did not want to be. I was told to speak to my GP regarding my medication to see if I needed an adjustment now I was back at work.

Fast forward to today and at 8am I was on the phone to my GP, I spent 13 minutes on hold and once I had explained why I needed an appointment I was then told there was no appointments available and to try again tomorrow. For someone who doesn’t feel safe being on their own and wanting to talk to a doctor about increasing my medication to be told that really made me feel a hell of a lot worse about my situation. Today has been an upward struggle, battling with the demons that want me to do things to myself that I know I should not be doing. So far I have silenced those demons but for how long for I do not know.

Today is a low day, I pray tomorrow will be better.

Back in February 2018 I started to notice things were changing for me. I started to notice a reduction in my vision, I’ve worn glasses for over 10 years now so I knew something wasn’t right. I had also started to get my horrendous migraines back on a daily basis which was less than ideal.

Honestly I put it all down to stress, I had just had to move out of my flat due to the landlord selling it, I had left my job of 5 years to start a new career in healthcare and my boyfriend had informed me that in June he was going to be leaving me to move abroad for at least a year. But by March things still hadn’t settled down so I went to my GP for some advice. As I had recently had an eye test he suggested that my migraines were down to something else so sent me for an MRI scan.

6 weeks later the scan was completed and nothing of note was discovered. My next option was yet another eye test just to make sure a prescription change wasn’t to blame. Scarily my visual acuity (VA) had dropped from 6/5 to 6/7.5 in less than two months. The optician decided to refer me urgently to the hospital for an assessment based on his findings.

After two months, not two weeks like my optician wanted, I was finally seen by the neuro-ophthalmologist at the hospital. My VA had dropped to 6/18 and after numerous drops, tests, prodding and poking he concluded that he could not find anything wrong and referred me for another test and a promise to see me in six months. A couple of months later I was sitting in the waiting area waiting for my Visual Evoked Potential (VEP).

What awaited me was the most horrendous 3 hours I had experienced. Dilating drops followed by lots of tests involving flashing checkerboards and strobe lighting, all whilst having a wire in the my lower eyelid to measure my responses. Safe to say for the next couple of days I was very ill.

Now also during this time I was going through something that I have not talked about with very many people at all. As I mentioned at the start my boyfriend of 2 years left and moved abroad in the June of 2018. We broke up in the May as he felt like long distance wouldn’t work. I was naturally heartbroken and used food and alcohol as a comfort but in the coming months I noticed I was getting ill a lot more often. At the end of August I was devastated to find out the reason that I was being so ill was that I was actually having a miscarriage. This broke me, I’d always wanted a family and I blamed myself for causing the miscarriage.

With that and all my visual problems I went into a spiral, things started getting on top of me. I stopped going out with friends and spent my nights after work lying in bed eating anything I could get my hands on.

Fast forward to January 2019 and I was back at the hospital for my review with the neuro-ophthalmologist. My VA was now down to 6/24 with still no answers. This led to my saving grace when I was referred to a neurologist. Three months later I was down to VAs of 6/36 and waiting for the neurologist to see me.

Again after numerous tests and scans he asked me about my life and any stresses I may have had. At this point I was still in denial at anything being wrong so I glossed over everything. He then spoke the words that would change my life “I think you have depression coupled with anxiety”. I sat there not knowing what to say, sure I had been sad lately but depressed?? There was no way.

After our discussion I went to see my GP and took the quiz to see if I was in fact depressed. I was shocked to find out that I was in the highest bracket and at risk without intervention. I was advised to take time off work and be out on antidepressants.

I’m now 5 months into treatment, I spent 3 months of that off from work and taking time out for myself. I have gone from having four therapy sessions a week to one 2 hourly a week. The antidepressants are still taking their time to work but I feel slightly better than I did. The massive relief is that my vision is now almost back to normal and that is one huge weight off my mind. I’m far from being ok but in time I hope to get back to at least three quarters of the person I once was.

This blog will just be my general musings, whether it be good days or bad days. I hope using a platform like this will help myself and others become comfortable talking about the stigma that is mental health.

Thanks for joining me on my battle with depression, anxiety and OCD

Be careful of words…they can be both daisies and bruises – Anne Sexton