Weddings, Love, Self

I got married a few weekends ago. August 23rd 2014 will forever be the date I signed the marriage register of my church along with my best friend ever, witnessed by our siblings.

The whole ceremony was framed beautifully by our friends and really was a true celebration of the most heartfelt love between myself and my now husband...  Back to love later... 

I was an unnaturally calm bride. I don't mean I was cool as a cucumber and everything was closely under control...  I mean I was calm with the help of additional chemicals. Namely the antidepressants I've been taking recently... I still enjoyed the wedding but the medication by it's very natural shrinks everything by at least a little.

I sang as I walked into the church and down the aisle... People who heard me were surprised... I must have nerves of steel. It's not true... It's the only way it wasn't going to be obvious that I was anxious... It gave me something to be anxious about... It wasn't a surprise to the assembled congregation if I didn't look up from my bouquet during the procession... That was just because I was singing. I used the same tricks when I was standing out the front... They were an audience I was a performer... Look up towards the back of the room and smile... No one will think you're not engaging. Other than that I kept my eyes firmly affixed to the beautiful face of my beloved. A few individuals received a glance and a smile.

I was shocked by the heartfelt response of our friends and family to our wedding. We had made it genuinely about us... As all wedding celebrations should be... We generally weren't swayed by tradition or the voices of people who said there was a way we should be doing things. And at the end, everyone who was involved said it was very us.

I struggle with being unique. I don't like to conform, but when my self esteem is crippling low and I just want to be "normal" I often find myself compromising my true wishes for the fleeting comfort which comes from something which seems unlike me, but will win me favour with someone else. In the end with my wedding I let a few of those things by...  I had my hair and nails and makeup done... People thought I looked beautiful...  In the photos I can hardly believe that it is indeed me. I would have been as happy if I had done my own hair and makeup, but it didn't seem like I was sacrificing anything if I let others do these things for me as a gift.

Sometimes though I wish I had the ability to choose for myself more... And be okay when others judge my decisions.

So I need to learn to love and value my own thoughts and feelings... When I suppress them it only serves to break my heart a little and when I am learning that I am so loved by others I would do well to accept that and love myself more.

Why it's important to fight stigma

Below are a few extracts from a, then private, email to my now fiancée I sent over 7 years ago. I was 22 we were dating long distance and things should have been really good, but I'd started on a college course I was really struggling with and I knew things weren't going to get any better. In some ways writing this email saved me, it started me on a journey that I'm not sure will ever end... Because the honesty I expressed to the recipient of this letter has been solidified and strengthened.  Now I am in a place where I think it would be useful to talk about the practicalities of needing and seeking help, without stigma. I know this is something that needs to change in our view of mental health. I'm sharing this because it is obvious reading it back now how frightened I was of the possible repercussions in my future of being honest about my struggles.

The course I was on at the time was a PGCE a postgraduate certificate in education. I had already dragged myself through an undergraduate degree in a cloud of disarray and confusion. I truly believed that anyone with a history of depression would be considered unsuitable to work with children so my actions,  or rather inaction was affected by this position.

The email...

"I am so sorry I haven't been able to be happy and smiley.... it's called depression and I've been here before and if I get diagnosed with something like this I may never be able to get a job and that's before I've even finished this course. This wouldn't be the first time you see... it's on my medical records as mild depression.... just a low and fuzzy feeling... it's not you that makes me unhappy"

"I need you to understand that I get depressed... proper can't feel much past desperate but won't admit there is anything wrong or maybe I just can't get out of bed... I need to know that it's part of me and that you'll still love me and try and understand and that if I push you away it's not because I want to but it's because I'm scared... I'm scared of hurting you with my words and actions so much that I'll want to  not speak to you one minute just so I can feel the happiness of making up because I can't find the feeling otherwise. I am going to talk to the doctor about these things, but I need you to understand I'm not making it up. I have stood on train platforms holding back tears with a thread of reasonability and common sense telling me that  too many people would not get to work if.... well you see.

I have a tendency to put things out of proportion.... hence the 10 phone calls in 3 minutes.... I panic.... like anxiety kind of panic where I can't breath and can't think about anything else."

I didn't go to the GP...  As far as I remember I was too frightened of loosing my place on the course, of admitting failure. My hand was forced eventually, when I was in serious jepody of failing my placement and I was completely lost. I got a little help, but I refused medication when it was briefly mentioned in a dismissive and unhelpful manner by the locum GP that I saw just once. I thought that this would make it more obvious that something was wrong with me .
My college tried to help and I had a couple of conversions with a useless college counsellor who handed me some photocopied sheets about self esteem and recommended some herbal remedies. And I was allowed to defer my college work until the next term when I could try again.

That was the sum total of my treatment until late last year when a friend persuaded me that suffering was not really preferable to getting help and I had fallen so low that I was past the stage of caring what any one else thought of my decisions.

If when it had first gone on my records aged 20 that I should be followed up and I had been offered some talk therapy maybe things would have been very different. I am not asking to change the past I am wanting to change the future of treatment of mental health conditions in young people.

The stigma is embedded in our society, those closest to me unfortunately encouraged me to not talk about it,  to keep it quiet and to "be okay" rather than be honest.  They were trying to help because the stigma is as real as the illness, but everything has still had to be dealt with eventually.

Mental illness is already a hidden ailment, with most people who are suffering simply going about their daily lives and making adjustments where they can, but we must begin to talk about support and help for those who need it when they need it.

Just lately I have been very lucky to have come across the right people at the right time and the internet has been an invaluable source of support, but assessment by mental health professionals much earlier could have saved my time and strength.

The literal cost of stigma is written in the pattern of our society like letters through a stick of rock. Those who need flexible working,  those who can't work, those who have been hounded out of jobs with no understanding or support. This has both a financial cost and a human cost which is quite frankly too high and things should be very different.

Speaking out now is something I can and must do.

It's time to change.