My Mental Health Journal

I wasn’t sure whether I should write this as it’s been a while since I last made an entry to my mental health blog. A Lot has happened these past few months and unfortunately there hasn’t been any good news to report on. Writing about last weeks events though might help me to see what I did, why I went through that emotion and maybe understand why.

Last Thursday I yet again looked for a way out. An end to the misery that seems to have become my life for the past few years. No end in sight to the pain I feel daily as I continue to battle with my depression and anxiety. Following another huge row, an argument that once again spiralled out of control because neither of us would walk away, I did something that showed I wasn’t thinking clearly. I went into the kitchen and took out the large kitchen knife from the drawer and placed it on my neck. Constantly shouting, trying to get her to move away from the door so I could get out the house, escape the madness and just go and finally be free from all this hurt. All I could think about was putting an end to this life because the way I’ve been seeing it lately is that it’s not a life, it’s just an existence. The daily routine is the same, the lack of sleep, no motivation and no energy and no fight in me to change that mindset no matter how hard I try. It’s like I’ve got so used to this now that I don’t even fight it anymore. I know now that isn’t the answer, somehow I have to keep trying, find some strength from somewhere to break the cycle I’m in. I keep telling people it’s like being on a hamster wheel, going around and around, unable to get off.

So, as I finally got out of the house I headed to my car, I didn’t care where I was going, I just wanted to drive it as fast as I could into somewhere so it would end it all. Maybe it was the wrong time to be out driving because of traffic or whether it was something else stopping me, it gave me some time to calm down a little and park up somewhere. I just burst into tears, crying like I’ve never cried before, just an absolute mess wondering what the hell I was doing. When those thoughts take over your mind it’s hard to focus on anything else. Those few minutes in the car allowed me to calm down a little. I had a message of a good friend, Sue asking how I was. I sent a message back saying what was happening and when she tried to call me I didn’t answer. I couldn’t bring myself to talk to anyone because of how I was feeling. She then messaged and told me she had called the police as she was concerned for my safety. I then called my wife and told her I was sorry for everything, all the arguing and the shouting and told her I don’t want it anymore. She pleaded with me to go home and talk it out.

I got home, sat quietly as she made a coffee when the door went. It was the police, two men and a woman police officer came in following the call from Sue. After a chat with them, telling them how I was feeling, how I wanted an end to it all they told me they had called for paramedics to check me out to make sure I was of sound mind before leaving me. They got here about an hour later and after a brief discussion with them they advised it would be better if I went with them in the ambulance to see the mental health crisis team at my local hospital. I agreed to go because no one wants to put a stop to all this more than me, I want an end to the nightmare once and for all.

I got to the hospital, waiting around in the ambulance because there wasn’t enough space inside there. After around half hour I made my way inside only to spend a couple of hours or so waiting to be seen. I had the usual obs taken while I waited, someone came and took a few notes, notes I’d already told the paramedics earlier. Eventually I was seen by a member of the mental health crisis team but it all felt like a complete waste of time. I talked it over as to why I was there, why I wanted to end my life and how I felt. We chatted about my psychiatric nurse appointment which had been put back again another 3 weeks or so down the line. We also talked about, after the first meeting with the psychiatric nurse, why my medication wasn’t changed after he was supposed to have written a letter to my GP insisting we change to another antidepressant. He promised to chase all of this up and then gave me a leaflet on something called Social Prescribing. I have to be referred by my GP for it but it’s something to look into. I’ll give anything a try.

I don’t ever want to have those thoughts again of wanting to kill myself. I want to believe there is something to look forward to, no matter how bleak things are at the minute. I can’t give up hope, it can’t always be like this, surely? We are now looking into going private and hopefully get some kind of therapy that will help me to turn a corner and start living again. It’s not a lot to ask for, I’ve never wanted much in my life. All I ever want is to be happy and content in my life again and have something to look forward to. Maybe one day I can find that again.