Rachel's Story - Patience

Over the past couple of weeks I have caught my mood slipping a little bit. I am beginning to wonder if this is at all seasonal (as this is exactly what happened last year at this time: it started in September, snowballed in October, and I ended up in hospital in November). I think it’s a really positive sign that I caught my mood slipping. I was able to recognize the signs this year really early and tell my doctor. Therefore, he raised my medication and I thought all would be well! But things are never quite that simple; I have developed an allergic reaction to the medication when at a higher dose. And this will doubtlessly mean more trial and error to find another medication to take its place.

That’s one major difference between being hospitalized and not: when I was an inpatient my doctor put me on and off different meds very quickly because I was in the safe environment of the hospital, under the constant supervision of the nursing staff. As an outpatient, the process is much slower, taking weeks at a time to test one single medication. I keep telling myself to be patient and that we’ll eventually find the right combination of meds, but sometimes it’s hard to believe. Those are the times when I feel especially lucky to have some amazing, HOPEFUL people in my life (because they keep believing in me and for me)! Many of those people spent hours visiting me at the Royal when I was an inpatient, encouraging me with compassion, understanding and hope through my roughest times and I am very grateful.

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Rachel's Story - Relief vs. Fear

I felt mixed about my admission. Part of me was relieved that someone was stepping in. That my collection of prescription drugs and razors and anything else that could cause me any harm was being taken away from me. That from now on the focus would be on rest and rehabilitation. Another part of me, though, was scared. Even though I had been hospitalized before, it was in Toronto, never here. I didn’t know what to expect. What would the staff be like? What would the other patients be like? Would the food be good? I was also keenly aware of the stigma associated with yet another stay at a “psych ward”. What did that say about me? Am I crazy?

As it turned out, I had a room to myself and I bonded with my primary nurse almost immediately. I really felt that she was on my side and willing to do whatever she could to help me. During the first few weeks of my hospitalization I kept pretty much to myself, staying in my room, sleeping. I was heavily medicated (this made me really tired and also makes it quite difficult for me to recall this period too specifically). I remember being somewhat impressed by the quality of the food, though! I was encouraged by my nurse to spend some time out of my room so I would watch some TV in the common area, but mainly I was too tired to focus. I slowly began to make friends with other patients and we would compare symptoms, meds and side effects. It was comforting to speak with other people who were going through similar struggles.

To be continued...

Rachel's Story - Emergency Last Fall

As September approaches I find myself looking back to last year at this time and I am very thankful to be where I am now. This year I am very fortunate to have a whole new set of skills as a result of the various groups I have participated in at the Royal Ottawa. I am better able to recognize my mood symptoms and catch myself before I fall into a deep depression or rise into mania. Admittedly, I was apprehensive about joining the groups because I am quite shy but I quickly got over that when I discovered that everyone there was like me, seeking to learn more about their illness. If you have the chance to participate in any of these groups, I highly recommend that you do. Now I’d like to share my story.

Last year at this time I couldn’t see myself falling. I was slowly losing interest in my friends and my formerly pursued activities. Getting out of bed everyday became a bigger and bigger challenge. My thinking and speech became slowed-down. I felt sad and tired much of the time. I had no interest in food. Living life seemed to require a BIGGER effort than I could muster. These symptoms started on a small scale (in September) and escalated until I was thinking of suicide or death every day (by October). I was relieving my anxiety with self-harm (cutting). I was collecting prescription drugs with the intention of over-dosing. Thankfully, my family stepped in and took me to the Civic’s emergency where I underwent a series of mini assessments with nurses and a psychiatrist. I was pretty out of it. All I knew was that I needed to end the pain somehow. I felt like I was being tormented and I couldn’t take it any longer. I was admitted on the eve of my 26^th birthday. I remember that all I wanted to do was lie in the dark, but because I was under observation, they wouldn’t let me turn off the lights. It was bright and loud and I couldn’t wait to be transferred from psych emergency to somewhere less temporary. I was supposed to be moved up to the Civic’s psych ward, but fortunately I got the news that a bed was available at the Royal and that I would be transferred there later in the day. So the day after my birthday I was transferred by ambulance to the Royal Ottawa Mental Health Centre. I was a little nervous, as I’d never been hospitalized there before.

To be continued…

Rachel's Story - Taking Meds

It's summertime and my schedule is a little more laid back. That being said, I'm finding it hard to keep to a strict routine when it comes to taking my meds (especially my morning ones). I sleep in some mornings and then I take them a little later or forget altogether! Before, when people have expressed having difficulty taking meds, I have never been able to relate, but now I definitely can. I've tried leaving them right out on the counter where I can see them first thing in the morning and I've tried setting a watch alarm (which I have proceeded to sleep through!).

Then, I also have the problem where even if I think I've taken them in the morning, I'm not absolutely sure and wonder if I should take them again later on. I guess I need one of those pill boxes with the times of day written on it.

In the winter, when I was first discharged from the hospital, I was really vigilant and never ran into these problems. My schedule was a little more consistent then and the meds were easier to keep track of. Does anyone else have issues like this, other issues related to meds or solutions to these issues?

Rachel's Story - Back to work

I went back to work two weeks ago.  I don’t know what I expected exactly.  I was looking forward to it though.  I had become increasingly bored of being at home every day with nothing to do.  My days consisted of watching TV and walking my dog and not much else.  So going back to work seemed like a great idea.  And it has been positive to a certain extent.  I enjoy being back with all my friends.  The social aspect is a big plus. 

 

But the big shock was my loss of confidence.  I didn’t expect that I would feel so lost in a job I’ve been doing for nearly 3 years.  In the beginning, I couldn’t help feeling that I was doing things wrong; that I had everything backwards somehow.  Going to work was filled with fear.  I felt different.  Like every client knew what I had been through and that I was no longer competent or qualified to do my job.  Almost like my hospitalization had stolen my good qualities and left me bereft of confidence.

 

I was also dealing with feelings of paranoia; I felt that at any moment I was going to be given a warning or be fired for my poor performance, despite a lack of evidence to support this: I wasn’t being given any negative feedback.  Slowly now, shift by shift, my confidence is coming back.  I am a little relieved to see that I can handle things and that I am good at what I do but it is still a struggle every day. 

Rachel's Story - The Monster That is Anxiety

Lately I have a hard time taking a full, complete breath.  I feel a bit like I'm suffocating much of the time.  I often wake up about an hour after I've gone to bed, panicked, overheated, sweaty and desperate for air and water.  Strangely, I feel like I'm drowning.  I've fortunately never had the terrifying experience of almost drowning before, but this is what I imagine it must be like.  I'm gasping for air,  my heart is pounding, I'm convinced I'm going to die.  It's like I can't find the surface to take a big gulp of fresh air.   At the same time I am excessively thirsty.  I run to the kitchen and pour myself a giant glass of fresh, cool water and drink it down.  At last, my heart begins to calm.  I've been experiencing lots of panic attacks over the past few weeks - no doubt these must be part of that.  They are really terrifying.  I'm learning to depend a little more on Lorazepam now and things are beginning to straighten themselves out.  It's really easy to feel alone with anxiety which is why I wanted to share my story.  You are not alone.  Please feel free to share your story too.