a new path to travel

I wasn't going to share this story of mine but its time to honour all those before me, who suffered silently, without support.

"always believe : you are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem and smarter than you think" - Winne The Pooh

I grew up with talk and hushed whispers of people having nervous breakdowns. It was almost as if it were said out loud, then in some bizarre way it would happen to us. I also grew up with the knowledge of mental institutions where those who suffered nervous breakdowns, ended up. Places where people walked around wringing hands with dishevelled hair and crazy eyes. It was something to be avoided at all costs.
I guess that is where my fear of having such a breakdown, came from.

"You are right it was all hushed up and never talked about. People, particularly wives and mothers just soldiered on and pretended all was perfect. Just like the families in the Women's Weekly stories..... I remember hearing hushed whispers when an acquaintance was "taken to the funny farm". " [J] 

that explains a lot...the times my mother would cry for no reason and we kids would be ushered outside to play. Or the times when she took to her bed for days and my sister and I would have to fend for ourselves (Dad was away working)...the poor thing. The advice was a Bex, a cup of tea and a good lie down.

So much trauma in my life and each time, I would just literally carry on. As if nothing had happened. Because that was what was expected.. In my early years, when trauma was happening around me, no-one thought to ask how I was. So I guess my cells just absorbed the trauma and I went along in life. Traumatised but not knowing there was such a thing.

As I grew up, more trauma happened over the years. Not much support, you just ‘got on with it’.
Burying the grief in the daily grind of being a mother and wife. If asked how I was, I would wave my hand and say ‘I’m fine’ then immediately deflect the conversation away from how I was feeling. Even when I had cancer, I would cook on weekends for friends and family to drop by. I 'got on with it' like a champion.

{I know that we all have trauma in our lives, but I seem to have more than my fair share.
Growing up in an unstable home, widowed at 19, (remarried) divorced at 28, miscarriage (16 wks) at age 30 [told by Dr to go home and get over it], cancer (which involved about 5 anaesthetics and barbaric treatment) at 42 [and told to be brave when large needles were stuck into my arm and not to be a baby when I cried about being locked in a radiation bunker for 17 hrs], moving homes  too many times, *plus at least 4 other major traumas in my life which I won’t mention here but they were at the top of any traumatic event list. }
(Oh there has been joy too, a lot of it but this is about my trauma journey and I am not going to skip over it by telling of the joy. The trauma needs to be heard and witnessed.)

Time went on and I was crumbling inside and my adrenals were on their way to near extinction. But I continued on, smiling and consoling others during any crisis.

I started to experience anxiety at times, with difficulty in breathing but as usual I carried on.
Each time something traumatic happened, my body would tingle as if electrified. It was awful. Sometimes I would wake with a jolt and feel as if I needed to escape and would want to run up the road (I didn’t). I was wired, stretched so tight, that it was only a matter of time before I snapped. my eyes lost their sparkle.

I was diagnosed with adrenal fatigue stage 3. My adrenals were shot.

I saw counsellors over the years but never let my guard down, never cried. I tried herbs, flower essences and other alternative modalities * let me say here, that I have the utmost love, respect and belief in all these beautiful things but sometimes the ‘big guns’ of modern medicine are needed.

And if one more person tells me to think positive or use affirmations and that it is a choice to be happy, I will scream and slap them hard, because no-one has tried harder than I have to be positive.

I kept telling people that ‘I’m not depressed’, I think more so to try to convince myself that I wasn’t a candidate for the dreaded nervous breakdown.

Until recently:: and my body literally said stop. Extreme panic attacks, anxiety and uncontrollable grief.  A panic attack while in a café, where I just had to leave, and inconsolable crying.

And now, I think I’ve come to a place where I need help. I’m not sure what and I’ll leave it up to my Dr. Hopefully I can find a way to be a little happier.

I may be an INFJ and a melancholic temperament and ruled by Saturn, twice. And it really doesn't help that I am a mystic and an empath. But that is how I came in to this life.

And yes, this may be something that I carry in my genes from ancestral trauma, but I am blessed to have been born into a time when there is modern medicine available to help. So I don't have to suffer like my ancestors did.

"Whatever gets you through your life.  It's all right, it's all right" - John Lennon

But. I’m scared. I’m afraid that if I take chemicals that I will lose the essence of who I am. I am scared that I will lose my quirkiness, my eccentricity. I feel as if I have failed my soul. I feel as if I’ve failed my much-loved herbs who have supported me for years. And weirdly I am even scared of losing my melancholic soul self..

I am scared because I have lived with mental health issues with my Uncle Brian, [even though it wasn’t referred to as mental health back then], I saw his mental breakdowns, I saw his medications and the effect and I am bloody scared.

I afraid that I will lose friends like I did when I had cancer. When people could not cope with my diagnosis, they literally crossed the road to prevent being faced with it and me. I am afraid that I will lose friends because if I am diagnosed with a mental health issue, they won’t be able to cope or they feel that I may be too needy (and heaven forbid if I ever become needy, I have always been the strong one) but you know what? I have Joe and my family and a handful of very close friends who DO Understand, who are there for me, even if I cry. Instead of trying to stop me crying, they cry along with me and they share their stories and they make me laugh.

So there you have it… I am on my way to embracing mental illness, maybe living with it.. I am scared, but I am on a path of discovery. Of healing. I can still have my beautiful herbal teas and tinctures. And I need to remember that there is no shame in being diagnosed with mental health illness.