My dementors back and he’s an a**hole, his ugly, negative presence has done everything he can to suck any life which I have inside me and to leave me in fear as a shell of myself. This blog post is difficult to write, I am not writing this for pity or attention, I am writing this to be honest, stop stigma and raise awareness. This is me in my most vulnerable state and if you don’t want to read it, then don’t as your negative opinions mean nothing to me and will never be as strong as the negative opinions I’ve had of myself.
I’m usually pretty organised with my prescriptions, but on the Friday I had realised I didn’t have any box’s left of my antidepressants and I was completely out. I always take them in the evenings so I was unable to call the Dr’s by the time I realised. I went online and went to order a repeat prescription, but was unable to as I was due a prescription review. I waited until Monday when the Dr’s reopened and called as early as I could and after a long time on hold I booked a call back from the Dr. I didn’t get a call so phoned again Tuesday morning and got a call back a couple of hours, but didn’t get to my phone in time. I phoned straight back, but again didn’t get a call until Wednesday after spending an hour on hold. this had meant that I had gone over five days without a prescription and was feeling completely on edge. I had, had an awful cold and cough for over a week and hadn’t slept for a week by this point. I was going through withdrawal from a high dose of antidepressants and was ignored when I begged for help. I have since found out I could have gone to a pharmacy with my box and got a five-day emergency prescription (if only I had known).
I had already been struggling a fair bit over the last few weeks as the counselling I had been having had bought up some stuff I had suppressed a few years previous and not dealt with at the time. I should have worked through these feelings, but I felt too scared to carry on and stopped my counselling straight away. This has then lead to major anxiety and night terrors, so any quality of sleep I was getting was poor.
Four weeks ago I went back to the IAPT service and referred myself back to counselling so I could start to work through these problems, as I had realised I had to face them head on otherwise my sleep and wellbeing would continue to suffer and these feelings of anxiety and depression would just keep manifesting in every aspect of my life. what I though would happen, happen and I am unfortunately still waiting for my phone call for my initial appointment.
Between me going through withdraw and unable to get my medication and the long wait with no mental support, I had hit a crisis. I went back to my Dr’s and was referred to the CRISIS team at hospital and have been having daily visits from a dr. my first visit where I was an emotional and exhausted wreck was within 3 hours of that call. I’m not sure how I would have survived without there support.
I won’t go into details as I’m still very much in the middle of it all but I am now back on my medication, plus three others to keep me calm and to help me sleep, but I am getting the support I need and these Dr’s have done everything to keep me at home with my family, whilst I keep battling.
This honestly has been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to live through and even writing, which has been my main salvation has not helped. I’ve had countless offers of support and kindness of which I am grateful for, but unless I find the strength in myself I am not going to get better. I’m hoping that after a good few nights sleep, without terrible nightmares, I will be back with some energy behind me to fight through this again.
This will not beat me permanently, it will not take away my family, my job, my friends. I know I am stronger than that I’m just too tired to fight it just yet. until that time comes I will rest, take care of myself, my wellbeing and mend my broken wings ready for the fight.
“Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.”
-Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
I have postnatal depression and I’m not ashamed





