This first paragraph has been so incredibly hard to write as it means admitting something to myself. Mental health has become a topic of high visibility. Credit for this can be given to the strength of the many individuals suffering from the many different types of mental illness and to campaigns such as the “Bell Lets Talk day” promotion. The fear of making this statement out loud is intense, but I will state it here. I have a mental illness. A very brief synopsis of the last two plus years follows.
About two and half years ago, the stresses of my job began to increase. It was ok, I like to have pressure on me it tended to push me and make me more productive. Unfortunately, the work load continued to increase. More tasks, more meetings, more everything, and no additional resources to help accomplish things.
Things were going to get better, finally additional staff were getting hired, yet workload was still increasing. The down side was that additional staff meant less productivity as the new staff needed to be trained/brought up to speed.
It was pointed out to me that I was getting “snappy, curt, and abrupt” with my staff. I sat back and realized that it was the stress doing this to me and I adjusted. I asked my peers to point out again if the same thing happened.
Over time it did happened again and again, I would reset and continue to move forward. During this time high stress events happened (such as the Fort McMurray fire) and personal events happened. The load continued to build silently and almost unnoticed.
On March 1, 2017 my father had a massive stroke. Two months hospitalization with the end result of him having to be placed in long term care. It was demoralizing, he was still my father but only a shadow of the man I knew, respected and loved with all my heart.
Not much later, St. Albert got hit with a dangerous windstorm doing damage to trees and buildings across St. Albert. I didn’t escape, the wind took out a 60 foot maple tree in my backyard doing around $20,000 damage to my house. All fixable but just another stressor added to the pile.
As we moved into the summer, I started to realize I was in trouble, the build up was becoming unmanageable. I started talking to my peers and my staff at work. I made an appointment with my doctor, having no idea what was really wrong with me. I ended up in tears in his office. He got me in to see the clinic mental health nurse. My doctor asked if I was willing to try medication, I said yes. We spent the next few months finding the correct dosage, I am not sure we are there yet, but I feel the medication is helping.
My days would start okay, but within a couple of hours anxiety would bog me down to the point I was falling asleep at my desk. Many times fighting off tears as I attempted to get things done. As time progressed mid-July into August days got harder and harder to get through. I wasn’t going to let this get me, I was still denying what I needed to do.
From there I started seeing a psychologist at the beginning of August. I went to my first session with no idea of what was going to happen. Well, I cried a lot. We talked, I was drained beyond belief at the end of the session. I really couldn’t understand what good this could do.
I continued on however, I was still working and one of the things we discussed was the possibility of my taking time off work. I fought against this as taking time off work meant I was a failure and couldn’t handle things. I was given resources to help myself and did as much reading and focusing as I could, after a month I accepted that taking time off work did not mean I was a failure it was just time that was needed to heal. If you broke your leg and had to take two weeks off work, does that mean you failed? I was starting to understand.
I had severe anxiety, there were days that I couldn’t even find the strength to get up and go to the bathroom. It would often take me an hour to get up for another cup of coffee after I had decided I wanted another. By mid September I was beginning to forget what “normal” felt like. I was questioning if this was going to be the “new normal” for the rest of my life. I could feel depressive moods slipping in. I was feeling sorry for myself. I am not the type of person that this happens to, I am better than that.
Although I had talked to many of my friends about what had happened and how I was progressing, I could not bear to talk to my family about it. I was embarrassed. It took me almost two months to talk to the love of my life (Joan) about it. It was not until Thanksgiving that I talked to my sister (Tracey) and her family about my illness. I still have not had the conversation with my Dad, I am not sure I will ever be able to have that conversation.
After a couple months of therapist sessions, I finally wasn’t crying anymore. I was starting to accept myself again. I wasn’t permanently broken, I was realizing I could be fixed. I just had to let myself be fixed. I actually started having days here and there that were anxiety free. A very dear and close friend gave me a great piece of advice, “don’t let the anxiety win, fight through it”. Fighting through is something that doesn’t happen quickly, it might take two hours to accomplish something, it might be the next day, in the end it is the win overcoming the block that you can focus on, a positive, and not letting the anxiety hold you back. Fighting through is easier somedays than others but I will not be defeated.
I have now been off work for over 4 months (coming up on 5), I am in the process of working on a possible return to work. This isn’t going to be easy either, I do not know if I am ready, I still have daily anxiety, but if I don’t try I will never know if I am ready or not. In reality, I am scared to death of going back, but I am going to try.
I fully believe my talking about it is a major part of my healing (or self repair as I often think of it), I will be there for anyone out there who wants to talk about it. My greatest hope is that if some one out there reads this and says “hey, that sounds a lot like what I am going through” and gets some help even earlier, the healing will be that much quicker.
Love and hugs to all of you that have been with me through all of this and to those that are just finding out, thanks for reading and please know that I am and will continue to be OK.