A favourite quote and a way by which to approach life.

Today is the tomorrow that you worried about yesterday.

Monday, 25 March 2013


It's ages since I've posted.  I haven't known what to say.  I still don't know what to say.  I don't know where to begin...

...I'm struggling.  A lot.

I went to an appointment with the psychologist a week past Friday, which was supposed to be an hour long, but turned in to two hours.  Basically, I am a mess.  The psychologist wanted to call the CAT Team (Crisis Assessment and Treatment Team - for people experiencing mental health crises), but I was extremely reluctant for her to do so as I'd had such an awful experience of them ten years ago.  At that time they made things much, much worse for me and I swore that I would never let them in to my life again.  It's an indicator of where things are up to that, after much deliberation, discussion, and upset, I was persuaded to let the psychologist call them.  She talked with them at some length, expressing her deep concern for me, and suggested that I be admitted in to hospital for a while.  They said they would come out to my home to assess me that afternoon.

The psychologist seemed very unsure about letting me out of her office, unsure that I would be able to 'keep myself safe.'  To be honest, I wasn't sure I could do that either, but eventually I agreed to do so long enough to get home and be assessed by the CAT Team.

The CATT arrived as a trio - doctor, nurse, and medical student - forty-five minutes later than they said they would be, which wasn't a great start, but the nurse was one I recognised from the ward when I'd been an in-patient with depression many years ago.  That helped me to feel a little more at ease as I remembered he was one of the better nurses.  I spent an awful lot of my time with the CATT in tears, much as I'd spent my time with the psychologist, and after quite a lengthy assessment the three of them went and sat in the car outside to discuss me.  When they came back in five minutes later they had decided to opt for home treatment with daily visits and a 24/7 'carer's line' phone number.  My feelings about this were, and have continued to be, very mixed.

These past ten days have been bloody awful.  I'm not going to go in to details, but suffice to say that I'm not really coping with 'life' at the moment.  I have a couple of 'big' things going on, but primarily I'm in a state of post traumatic stress from my recent hospital admission, and severe depression from the accumulation of traumatic asthma attacks (and some other things too).

I have come to a stand-still, defeated by all that has happened, unable to bounce back as expected, as I have done previously.  I am trapped, once again, by the monster of depression, and above all else, I feel as though I have let everyone down.  Myself included.  God included.  Especially God.

I am continually told that I'm strong, but believe me, I'm not.  I am now very, very broken and very, very weak.  It isn't helpful to tell me I'm strong, so please don't.  I need to be allowed to be however I am, and telling me that I'm strong makes me feel even more as though I've let everyone down because I know that I am so very broken right now.


Kristy said...

Becky, you haven't let anyone down. God included, especially God. God loves you just as you are, not as you should be. Really sorry, you're feeling this way. You've been through alot in the last few years so it's completely understandable. Just remember that God is with you even in the darkest pit, even when you can't feel his presence and you have a lot of people who love you just as you are.

vivinfrance said...

Becky, I am one of the offenders in the 'strong' camp, for which I apologise. But I do very much admire your achievements despite adversity - you have so much of which to be proud. Take comfort in that.

And you've let no-one down, let alone God. You are ill. We all love you and are willing you better. Hang on in there.
ViV xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

BeckyG said...

Thank you, Kristy, and thank you, Viv. I don't know what more to say at the moment, but my thanks is sincere and heart-felt. Thank you.

Zim said...

I think that it is typical problem of us, chronically ill people. How to be in balance - between self-pity and false optimism?
But You aren't alone. Jesus Christ understands all Your bad emotions.
Greetings for You.

Sal said...

I totally understand you not wanting to be told you're strong - I deiberately avoided it as I know myself that it's not how I'm feeling right now. I do think it is terribly hard for people to find the right words & anything anyone says can cause unwitting pain, because we ourselves are seeing everything from our depressed mind. I think people just want to find the right thing to say to give us hope, to help us hang on. I know at the moment that, for me too, nothing anyone says can help other than, 'I'm here for you'. I am here for you, Becky, and all I can say is keep doing what you are doing, taking all the help that is offered. I think the recognition of post traumatic stress is a very good one & I know there is specific treatment that can help in that area, as well as treatment for the depression too. You are doing all the right things & are surviving a huge storm in your life. The calm will come, as it did for you last time, and you will slowly notice things are feeling a little better. I keep telling myself something that maybe will help you too - you can only go up from here! With all the help & support, you're getting, you can only improve with time. xxx

Diana West said...

I'm lucky that I've never suffered from depression, so I have no idea what you're going through now. All I can say is that you only have to reach out and there'll always be someone there for you to hang on to through your darkest times. Hugs and vibes, as always.

Clamjamphrie: said...

Becky, I am a longtime lurker (think I clicked on your profile in an OU creative writing forum about, gulp, five years ago) and an infrequent visitor because I like to immerse myself in your beautifully eloquent writing and one post is never enough for me.
To read all you have been through recently is...I can't think of any word that can possibly describe it. That you can continue to find such true words to convey what you have been through and continue to go through is awe-inspiring.
So much of what you write so perfectly sums up about how I feel about my own chronic condition (M.E.). I've just had a big, totally unexpected relapse and came here because I knew I would find wisdom that would soothe me. I have. I'm just so sorry that the 'ordering of my thoughts on my experiences'(I'm paraphrasing!)as you wrote in an earlier post should result from the anguish of yours.
That you feel such fear at the moment is, to me, entirely natural. How can you not, when your body takes you to the edge of life and back again so frequently and unexpectedly? At a time when you're too ill to even feel that fear? I was diagnosed with cancer last year and had a full-on month of terror waiting for scans/results, not knowing if it would kill me or not. (Still here, obviously!) But I consider myself fortunate to have been well enough to feel that fear at the time since my M.E. fear is one constantly tempered by my desire to be 'rational' about it so it gets kind of cognitively trapped.
Not sure I'm making sense! But what I'm trying to say is that maybe your brain is similarly trying to 'make sense' of all you've been through and if you've tried to rationalise some of your past experiences, that could lead to a fear 'backlog' that you're experiencing now. A friend who used to live in Africa recently told me that when an impala has faced and evaded danger, it literally shakes the fear out. Why would you not need to do the same? Just don't judge yourself for however long your own internal shaking takes and know that random strangers like me are routing for you every step of the way.

Dawn said...

(((Becky))) I've been thinking about you and wondering how you're coping. I'm sorry, I've been too wrapped up in my own world to even send you a quick message on facebook.
There is nothing wrong with coming to a stand-still. Goodness, considering all you've been through, it's amazing that you have bounced back so many times!! If being static gives your brain and body time to heal after the traumas you've been through, then so be it. Use the resources and people that are available to you, anything that will help you.
I understand that you feel weak, broken and as though you've let people down. That is the monster which is depression talking and making you feel that way. I'm sure you know from your past experiences with depression; feelings aren't facts.
Keep fighting my lovely
Dawn x

first aid training said...

Some people describe asthma as feeling like they are trying to breathe though a straw. The description fits perfectly, because during an attack, airways in the lungs squeeze shut, making it difficult to draw in air.

BeckyG said...

I'm finding it hard to put things in to words at the moment, but I just want to say thank you all for your comments and support.

Liz, Welcome, and I love the metaphor of the impala!

First Aid Training, I describe asthma like trying to breathe through a straw while you're running a marathon up a mountain with a pillow over your face and you're not aloud to stop even for a moment's rest.

Again, thank you to all of you.


P.S. I hope you've all had a good Easter.