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0 By Anonymous
I’ve been battling with mental health problems for six years now. Problems?? Why do they label us the ones with problems? We are just like everyone else just a little more fragile. No problem. I was diagnosed with PTSD, depression, anxiety, anorexia nervosa and bulimia nervosa when I was just 12 years old after I watched my dad get beaten to death.
I received therapy from the child psychiatrist after being passed around to numerous different people because I was a difficult patient and found it hard to open up to certain people; after all, this wasn’t an easy subject to open up about. Their instant response to ‘help’ me was to put me on medication. One in the morning and one at night to make me remember how to smile again. But that wouldn’t stop me from feeling so alone and I was a kid; I didn’t want to be stuck on medication for the next few years. So I just continued going to my appointment, talking about anything apart from what I needed help with and pretended that everything was fine. Because: “I’m fine.”
When I hit the big 18, after a long struggle and numerous scary thoughts that I wouldn’t make it to this age, I was passed on to the adult mental health team. I’m sad to say they are no help. It took me four months to get an initial assessment although I was on the high-risk form and yet another four months on from that I am still waiting to get therapy, which they recommend to be EMDR (eye movement desensitisation and reprocessing) and CBT (Cognitive Behavioural Therapy). But can you guess what the fix is until then?? That’s right, antidepressants and a support worker. But the only thing that is actually helping me is my best friend, razor blade.
I am now at the point where I’ve given up with everything. Being told that if I don’t start eating they will have no choice but to section me, but they won’t do anything to help me beat my mental health difficulties. I am just left here like a fly on the wall or a dog strapped up unable to reach his bone just praying that I can get the help I need before my suicidal plan date. “I’m fine”; “Help me.”
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Hi, your story is heartbreaking. Tablets for me only mask the pain but I found the pen to be my best friend, the written word. There is no judgement there. The pen may be mightier than the blade? Try writing, try a blog? It may help others if your honesty shines through. Here’s mine, it may inspire. Keep fighting, have faith in yourself. There are people who care.
https://redlizzie.wordpress.com/author/redlizzie/
Hello friend, would you believe I am sitting on a train homeward bound after watching and crying at the end of the movie Churchill on a Tuesday night and the guard just apologised for the train delays and mentioned that a poor soul had jumped in front of a train. I feel the need to write to you and offer some words in the hope of getting you to cancel that date. I have not experienced cutting but I know it is common. I am however a one in four. I believe Churchill was also a one in four, he said that he would never surrender. I like the phrase never give up. The only book I have found that helped me was the Happiness trap by Russel Harris and I even struggled with that until I read the paragraph on thanking my mind and the thoughts contained within. I don’t think I got it until my psychiatrist and psychologist reinforced my mental health with mindfulness a practice I hope to learn in greater detail. Alcohol is my enemy and I needed a lot of help to battle it. Please just plough through those counsellors until you strike the right ones. I wonder how many people jumped in front of a train today? Please never give up and never surrender. Jonny Cash I cut myself today. Good luck.