Those of you who know me a little bit (or a lot) know that I recently celebrated my 40th birthday and that my lovely man took me away to a very romantic place where he presented me with a gorgeous engagement ring that he designed and had made especially for me. You may also know that I have a job I love and that earlier this year I got to travel around SA for a month as a competition winner, and then got to go to the UK for a family wedding and reunion. To some it might sound like this is *my* year, a year full of wonderful and happy experiences. I have an amazing son, a wonderful family, awesome friends and a man who loves me more each day.
I should be so very happy and content.
But for the past 2 months I’ve been sucked back into a dark place I know only too well. A place filled with fear and nameless anxiety. A place where panic attacks come thick and fast day after day and where I feel like I’m drowning in them. I’ve been here before but it’s been a long, long time since things got this bad. Back in my early 20s in Israel it was this bad and I didn’t leave the apartment for weeks – I became agoraphobic. Since then I’ve had the odd battle, I’ve had a few weeks of bad panic and anxiety and I’ve been to my wonderful counsellor and she’s helped me get my groove back.
But today I sat and cried in her office, telling her that while I am so happy to be engaged to the man I’ve loved for 14 years, I can’t get past this round of panic – that none of the tools that usually work are working. That I feel robbed of the joy and excitement I want to be feeling now because all I can feel is this shadow over me.
G is so very good about it and he is more understanding and patient than I could be in his position but it’s not fair on him or on me or on R.
So finally I agreed that I need to get some medical help this time. It’s something I have fought against since I first started dealing with this curse back in 1989 when my sister died, but I cannot carry on like this. I have a wedding to plan! A life to live! I want to get my joy back and if that means a couple of months of meds then that’s what I have to do.
So I am seeing my GP at 5 today – who said when I called her ‘at last!’ cos she’s been trying to tell me this will help me for a long time. I know what kind of meds I WON’T take and I also know this is just to get me out of the place I’m in and then I’m getting off them and back to coping with natural things that have worked in the past. But for today the fight has gone out of me and I can’t carry on like this.
Why am I blogging this?
Because too many people keep quiet about mental health issues and that’s why so many of us feel alone, and like freaks. Someone else out there might read this and realise that no matter how together and happy another person seems, we all have our battles to fight.