After watching Professor Greens documentary “Suicide and Me” it got me wondering why we are still so scared of talking more openly about certain subjects.
Lets face it we live in a modern world where, even the soaps have story lines about these subjects, yet we cant in reality talk about them. The sorts of “taboo” subjects I am on about are things like rape, domestic violence, suicide, child abuse and mental are just some that I can name. But surely if we spoke about these things more freely then maybe as a society we could help people who are suffering? Instead by keeping these subjects out of the lime light so to speak we are keeping the people who are suffering from talking and seeking help.
I for one can talk about mental health issues until the cows come home. This is something that is very close to my heart for many reasons but the main one being I suffer with mental health! I can be a little private about it, however this isnt because I am ashamed of it, its because I don’t want sympathy from people or for people to feel sorry for me. Its part of me and I am OK with that (this is something that has only recently happened)
I recently wrote a blog about PND after I had my eldest daughter, now as much as I do believe I suffered with PND i think alot of it was my own depression that wasn’t linked with the PND. this was back when I was 21 and I have suffered on and off ever since. The next time I sort help was when my Mother In Law and her friend literally frogmarched me to the doctors because I was such a mess that they were so concerned for my well being. I got put on anti-depressants and went to counselling for 12 weeks.
I was pretty good for a long time after that or so I thought, but looking back now I just learnt how to paper over the cracks, paint a smile on my face and get on with life. If I’m completely honest the next few years took its toll on me for one reason or another and it wasn’t until a death in the family in 2014 that I realised my mental state was in turmoil again, but again I put my smile on and just shoved it to the back of mind again. I then couldn’t do it any more and crumbled in the summer of that year ans had to admit defeat only this time it was worse, the tablets weren’t helping and I had to be put on higher doses and referred to counselling again. The days were pretty dark, I didn’t want to get out of bed, I didn’t eat, I either couldn’t sleep or would sleep too much, my mood swings were horrendous, I would cry uncontrollably for no reason and I just shut myself off from the world.
Eventually I left counselling of my own free will, because I found somebody to talk to about how I was feeling and I found it easier to talk to somebody who I knew rather than a stranger and I managed to take myself of my tablets. I know that doesn’t always work for people but for me it did and I hate being on tablets for my own personal reasons. I’m not saying I am 100% better as I never will be, I will always have my own demons to battle and some days I could just shut the world away and hide under my duvet, but the good days outweigh the bad days by miles now.