Q. Post a picture of yourself and tell us your story.
A. One week late, but here’s ‘my story’.
I lived with my Mom, Nan and brother for the first part of my childhood, it was a happy home, we saw my Dad every day. School was okay, I got decent grades, not outstanding, but good, I excelled in art. I was well behaved, teachers liked me, I was just a bit slow at completing tasks - being a ‘daydreamer’ and a ‘perfectionist’ wasn’t a very good combination for efficiency.
I experienced some cruelty, which went on for a number of years and had a mental breakdown when I was 11 years old. I couldn’t tell anybody why. I cried none stop for months.
Throughout senior school my depression had evolved and I was experiencing an acute psychotic episode which manifested in me hearing a voice. The voice was my friend, he helped me out and told me secrets about the world, he could alter the future in my favour as long as I didn’t get greedy. I became paranoid that people could read my mind and that there were snipers trying to kill me. Eventually the voice made me do things to help him out in return (pay him with blood), that is when I started self harming (around that time my Nan died, she was like a second Mother to me). At the end of senior school my troubles all came spilling out and I had to see psychiatrists and be put on medication, I had a little stay in hospital following an incident. I had a lot of time off school and was only allowed to take five GCSE’s (they didn’t want to put any pressure on me). I went on strike but lost the fight to do all eleven. I continued self harming even when the voice went away. I suffered with obsessive compulsive disorder.
College was fun, I did a B-TEC in drama. We were a close knit group and hung around as a class in and around the block 7. My confidence grew and I fell in and out of love.
Then I went off to University without much thought going into which one, where I lost a lot of weight through an eating disorder. I had no psychiatric support in Wales until the third and final year when the pressure all got too much and I had another breakdown. I was signed off sick for a while but somehow managed to finish my degree (with a 2:2, which I wasn’t happy with). I made friends for life at University.
I moved back in with my mother and signed on. I had started to smoke a lot of cannabis to deal with mourning the end of uni and not having a social life. I tagged along with my brother and his friends for a while, I didn’t like to, but I was terribly bored and lonely. I became dependent on cannabis. My brother decided to put a stop to it for both of us - which was a good move. He then moved away to university. I fell into another depression, deeper than ever. I was alone and then started claiming ESA instead of JSA, because I was not fit for work. I was extremely isolated and would go weeks only having seen my parents on the evenings and weekends.
I EVENTUALLY got some help, I did art therapy for a year and got a floating support worker who came around to the house three times a week. I attempted suicide. After that I really tried to get better - for my family’s sake to begin with, and then when I liked myself enough, for me too. I hated what I had put them through.
I got a part time job in retail. I hated it, but it was money, and more of a social life. My confidence picked up again. I did classes on the evenings and decided on working towards a career in mental health. I had a few interviews and after being turned down a couple of times I finally broke through and got a job as a support worker (full time) - waaay more money than I was getting in the shop! I loved it. I thrived for a while, learning new skills, helping people, making friends. I started a relationship with my (still to this day) boyfriend. Something happened that made me feel inadequate at work, and I had one of my turns. I was self harming in any way I could, and drinking heavily. I went off sick for a while. Bounced back, only for the same thing to happen again some months down the line. I was referred to an eating disorder clinic. My weight was not dangerously low, it was more up and down - depending on my behaviours. I was discharged so that I would be accepted for specialist psycho dynamic therapy (for personality disorders). I have an assessment next week.
I’m still off sick from work (pretty long term this time) and I’m in the process of claiming ESA again. I still live with my Mother. I have no savings. I can’t drive. It seems I’m back to square one - and that’s really depressing. I hope therapy can help me break this cycle of self sabotage and self destruction. I’m trying to do my best to recover, trying not to self harm (after I needed surgery the last time). Drinking might be a bit of an issue, my weight is still up and down. There is a loong way to go until I would consider myself stable.
Where will the story end, I wonder?
