MENTAL HEALTH AND ME

This is a bit of a weird one because I really don't know how to start this post off. When I first plucked up the courage to start this blog I wanted it to be a place where I could write about absolutely anything. Whether that was a holiday I'd been on, fashion trends I'd been loving lately or topics that were more personal to me I wanted to be 100% authentic even if it wasn't going to be all roses. I wrote a post last year on this topic  but wanted to go further in depth into my experience with it. 

If you know me/follow me on Twitter you'll know that the topic of Mental Health is extremely important to me. I've suffered with depression, anxiety, panic attacks and have previously struggled with Binge Eating Disorder (BED) as a result. It's odd because a couple of years ago you would never have got me to say out loud/online what I was struggling with. I was of the mindset that if I just shut up and got on with it then maybe it would just go away and I could feel normal. 

I think I'd been struggling with depression for longer than I chose to realise but it escalated massively around the time I started my A Levels and was at it's worst during my final year of University. I'd always been someone who prided themselves on being a high achiever which led to me putting unnecessary levels of pressure on myself. I honestly thought that my self worth was linked to the grades I got in my exams which, looking back now, was a ridiculous notion. My fear of failure resulted in me stopping anything I enjoyed to focus solely on getting the grades I needed to get into what I thought was my dream university doing my dream course. On the outside I seemed happy but internally I was physically and mentally exhausted. And to help, I turned to food. Whenever I was feeling down I would lock myself in my room and binge until I was physically sick. Then I'd be filled with feelings of embarrassment, regret and self-hatred but it was a cycle that I just couldn't break. 

Once exam period came around, the panic attacks started. At the time, I didn't know what the triggers were but I would start to feel faint, start uncontrollably crying and hyper ventilating, my heart would feel like it was trying to jump out of my chest and I'd be overcome with cold sweats. Sometimes they'd last a couple of minutes, others would last upwards of 15 minutes. They would make me feel like I was dying and there was nothing I could do about it. It was when these started that I thought about telling someone but, my grades were good so no one cared to listen.

At the end of my A Levels I'd somehow managed to get the grades I needed to go and study Biochemistry at King's College and I thought everything would be different. My mantra was that if I'd been able to make it through the two years of A Levels then I'd be able to make it through three years of University. How wrong I was. University is supposed to be the time of your life where you're out being social and meeting new people but the thought of doing of that made me feel ill. The idea of being in certain social situations brought on panic attacks to the point where if I was going to be late to a lecture, I would just go back home because I couldn't bring myself to walk into a room full of people on my own. I would spend less and less time with my family and spent the majority of my time in my room feeling like a failure for not being able to do the things my peers did so easily. 

By second year I'd forced myself to go to the doctors and got put on antidepressants which, for want of a better praise, made me feel like shit. I'm sure they're brilliant for some people but they made me feel so sluggish so I stopped taking them. At this point I was having a panic attack at least once a week, University was the last thing on my mind and I genuinely didn't want to be on this earth anymore. My lowest point was midway through third year. Over the Christmas break I had a breakdown and seriously contemplated suicide. My brother and my good friend Toni were my saving graces. I tell them this all the time but I honestly don't know what I'd do without them (so if either of you are reading this, know that I love and appreciate you so much!).

Once University was over and I headed out into the big wide world I decided I needed to do something about my mental health. I got myself a therapist and started Cognitive Behavioural Therapy and Psychotherapy. The pills route hadn't worked for me and I knew I needed a method of coping that involved re-training my brain. It took a few tries to find the right therapist but once I found 'the one' the process was brilliant.

Finding the right therapist is so important because you need to feel comfortable enough around a person to open up about anything and everything you've been dealing with. In our first session I was so over talking to people that I wrote everything down in a letter. Starting the conversation is tough, but once it's out there, you can finally work on getting better. Working with her helped me to find ways of coping emotionally that didn't include food, found what triggers my panic attacks and helped to me to learn how to deal with situations before they overwhelm me. It's not been an easy journey, you have to really commit to wanting to change and you have to work at it every day. There is no quick fix. And even now, after over a year of therapy, I know that I'm not 'cured' but I'm in a much better mindset now than 18 months ago. There are still moments when the thought of going into a new social situation threaten to derail my day, but now I have coping mechanisms to deal with such anxiety.

Speaking from personal experience, mental health isn't something that is openly discussed within the black community, especially if you have had a relatively normal upbringing and 'have nothing to complain about'. Being seen as 'strong' is highly valued and 'things should always be kept within the family'. But, it's great to see so many of my generation breaking down the barriers and making mental health less taboo. 

I make it my mission to let anyone know, no matter if I haven't spoken to you in years or I just met you yesterday, if you need to talk, I'm always hear to listen. I know the feeling of thinking it will never get better but, trust me, it does. It will get better. And talking is how it starts. Find someone you trust, whether that be a family member, close friend or even your doctor and start to open up. It's difficult but you will feel that much better for it and you'll have someone in a better position to help you or find help for you. 

I appreciate that not everyone can either afford to have a therapist or can find someone they trust to talk to. Below I've linked some charities that can help. They may have hotlines you can call that don't show up on your phone bill or, in the case of Samaritans, they have an email address you can contact anonymously and they'll aim to respond to you as quickly as possible.

Mind ¦ Young Minds ¦ Samaritans ¦ Heads Together

Just know that you are not alone. 1 in 4 people in the UK will experience some kind of mental health problem each year and 1 in 6 people in England experience a common mental health problem every week*. Chances are, you've come across someone who has suffered from or is suffering from mental health issues and you didn't even realise it.


Till the next time

Fran x


*stats from Mind