Sharing

Trigger warning: this post discusses mental health issues
including depression, self harm, and suicide. Read for information,
but caution advised for any reader currently experiencing mental ill health.
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My main social media channels – Instagram and Twitter – are places I usually reserve for photograph sharing. But recently, my mental health wasn’t good, and I wrote a more personal post on both channels. Not one for sharing too much too widely, I’ve nevertheless blogged before about my experience of depression. This was the first time I had put information out in a more public setting. I don’t know what I hoped to achieve in doing so. It was more a shout into a technological void, when shouting in (most) public places is frowned upon.

Tachyphylaxis

Having been on a certain antidepressant for many years, my system developed a tolerance to it, and last year it stopped working. Tachyphylaxis (also known as ‘Prozac poop-out’) is thought to affect up to one-third of people. Doctors don’t know exactly what causes it, but the experience is deeply unsettling. It can cause major depressive relapses as the efficacy of the medication drops off without warning. I was on the maximum dose, so there was nowhere left to go other than to try something else. Which meant weaning off what I had been on, while building up the new drug. And just over six months later, I was already on the maximum dose of the replacement drug, having never particularly taken to it.

Relapse

I experienced a major depressive relapse. The sort where getting up in the morning was sometimes too hard. Anger and hopelessness at life simmered beneath the surface of torn skin. Unbroken sleep was a thing of the past. I was in and out of the doctors over a period of a few weeks. It was hard to be heard – I’m frequently described as being eloquent and self-aware. But I couldn’t explain the sometimes unbearable non-physical pain in my head.

I was asked whether I had thoughts of self-harm or suicide. There must be something about my manner or demeanour which says I wouldn’t hurt myself. Because nobody ever hears me when I tell them that I do. Or they suggest coping mechanisms which come with a degree of forethought and preparation. Neither of which works with self-harm. It’s not something which one plans, it’s an immediate way of grounding when the mental pain is too much.

Sharing Online

I shared some of how I felt online. And responses came. From people who genuinely wanted to offer support. None of the replies told me they understood, as they were often depressed, or someone they knew used to be depressed. I understand why people share this sort of detail when trying to show they empathise, but it doesn’t help. People sometimes suggest you think of all the good things you have in life. If anything this can make things worse. As though you have no right to be mentally ill because of everything that you have which others would be grateful for. What a massive guilt trip for someone who’s already feeling awful.

People accepted my experience is real and painful. Nobody sought to diminish what I felt, or tried to cheer me by telling me to look on the bright side. All of the comments sent care and even offers to meet in person and talk, or not talk depending on how I felt. They came from family, friends, and people I’ve only encountered online. A number of people remarked on how the nature photos, which I  share on social media, make them feel. Uplifted, grateful, peaceful, connected, were some of the terms used. In sharing these details, they revealed a depth to the social interactions, which I had hitherto been unaware of. Neither my voice, nor my passion, were disappearing into a void. This insight helped tremendously. We all leave prints, digital or otherwise, and our prints might be ones which make a difference to people. In our own way, each one of us has something to contribute. We all matter.

Speaking Out

A number of people thanked me for speaking out. Depression isn’t easy to talk about. It’s a hidden illness which has existed for generations, but only comparatively recently has been accepted more widely as a genuine affliction. Not everybody has the chance to talk. Some people talk but succumb.

“Killing oneself is, anyway, a misnomer. We don’t kill ourselves. We are simply defeated by the long, hard struggle to stay alive. When somebody dies after a long illness, people are apt to say, with a note of approval, “He fought so hard.” And they are inclined to think, about a suicide, that no fight was involved, that somebody simply gave up. This is quite wrong.”
― Sally Brampton, Shoot the Damn Dog: A Memoir of Depression (first published 2008)

The book is an insightful, moving, account of depression, and Sally’s challenges in living with the illness. Sally had a high flying career as a journalist and a novelist, and was known throughout media circles as being stylish, and well liked. Her memoir shocked people. The person described within the book seemed at odds with the lively and vibrant woman they knew.

In 2016, Sally was in crisis. In spite of contacting the relevant services, the support she needed was not made available in time. Sally took her own life aged just 60.

Support

It is vital to find support, especially in these times of grindingly slow medical processes. I found support in the words and actions of others. It doesn’t heal, but it helps. Knowing that people care enough just to pause and say something supportive.

As many people with mental ill health will understand, I’ll never be completely better. My head still hurts with what is sometimes an intense non-physical pain, and I am in the process of changing medication (again). Some people are easier to talk to than others. These are the long-suffering ones I trust and turn to most often when I need to let words out but aren’t sure exactly how the words will fall.

I don’t know quite what the message from this post is. Perhaps that depression is a real illness. It can affect anyone, including those who seem to lead ‘stable’ lives. Support can be found in unexpected places. The medical profession won’t always get it right. Speak out if you’re suffering. Don’t worry if you can’t explain exactly what’s wrong, and never fret that you’re taking people’s time.

The medics are there to try to help. And trust other people to offer what they can. Supporting someone with mental ill health can be emotionally draining. Those who care may need time out for a breather, but they are still there. They will offer stronger support if they are as well as they can be themselves.

Find Help

The Samaritans – call 116 123 (free, 24 hours a day, 365/6 days a year)
Shout – text support service, 85258
Campaign Against Living Miserably (CALM) – 0800 585858 (available 5pm – midnight, 365/6 days a year); webchat also available
Side by Side – Mind’s online community, always open