Crying out for help battling and understanding depression

Transcription

1 Vet Times The website for the veterinary profession Crying out for help battling and understanding depression Author : anonymous Categories : RVNs Date : December 1, 2008 One veterinary nurse shares her battle with depression, and explains why sufferers should never be afraid to talk to someone EMMA Milne hit a nerve. Now, before anyone thinks I am casting aspersions on her surgical ability, I will clarify that I am talking about her well-written article in VN Times (September issue) Life and soul of the party or just crying out for help?. I find it hard to believe it coincidental that the article arrived on my doorstep in the middle of Suicide Prevention Week. Having been on the other side of the fence, I thought I would share my story and reiterate the importance of Emma s message that is, to talk to someone. I started off my career in the usual manner. I wanted to be a veterinary nurse or vet, and no matter what my school careers advisor said, I was going to do it. I studied hard at college, passed the prep course and was delighted to get accepted on to the VN course. My first year was spent at college, veterinary school and in practice. In my second year, I was fortunate and offered an SVN job in my foster practice. I was delighted, but had to leave all my friends to go to a different college, miles away from home. Although I very much enjoyed this period of my life, looking back now, I wonder if there were elements of depression already creeping in. I was obviously thrilled to qualify as a VN I could now wear my badge with pride. However, over 1 / 6

2 the next few months, the atmosphere in the practice changed and I was bullied at work. The bullying and subsequent disciplinary had an incredibly detrimental effect on my mental health, although I didn t realise it at the time. I was physically ill, would vomit regularly at work, lost approximately three stone in weight and was extremely tired. I went to my GP on several occasions and eventually found myself in the endoscopy suite of my local hospital something I do not recommend. The endoscopy was clear and my GP was left with one conclusion depression. Palpable relief I had taken my mother to this consult with me and she said that the façade, which at that point I had no idea I had, slipped and the feeling of relief that I had been found out was palpable. I, on the other hand, was reeling from the fact that the diagnosis could possibly be depression. Depressed people are sad, they mope about, stay in bed and over-eat, don t they? Well, no, they don t. The range of physical symptoms I had were all psychological. My poor head had been screaming that there was something wrong and I had ignored it. The only way my body could get me to listen was by making me think I was physically ill. It is quite clever when you think about it. I began medication, had six months off work and left my job as I could not face going back. I found a job in a small practice where I was the sole nurse. This was just what I needed to get back into working. It was such a nice place to work; my bosses were lovely, there was little pressure and the clients were fantastic, too. I had confided in my boss that I suffered from depression, but I was happy there and so it didn t become a problem. After a year or so, I had regained my confidence and felt that I needed a challenge, but it was incredibly sad to leave that practice. I moved to a bigger practice and, after a short time, the stress of moving practice, learning the ropes and a close member of my family becoming extremely ill meant I began to self-injure. I was in the ideal environment for a self-harmer and, to begin with, could pass it off as animal-related injuries; that is, until they became too frequent and too deep. My colleagues must have known. To those who are unfamiliar with self-harm, the primary means is cutting, but burning, hitting, hair pulling, etc are all forms. Ironically, if you know someone who self-harms, they are not trying to kill themselves, but trying to stay alive. Far from the Emo culture that is sadly emerging, it is not an attention-seeking ploy. Genuine self-injurers will try their utmost to hide self-injury scars or wounds and do not want to talk about them. Complex reasons There are many complex reasons why people self-harm. Selfhate is a form of punishment for not doing something quite right, maybe saying the wrong thing, etc, but the act of selfharm gives the 2 / 6

3 injurer a short-lived endorphin release, which allows the mental torment to stop. Then the guilt and regret sets in. The one reason they all have in common is that they are very unhappy and would benefit from having a friend who cares. I would advise against asking what happened to a sufferer s arms/legs, etc as the chances are you will get some tall story. I think my strangest one was telling my husband I had burned myself on some paint stripper. As Emma said in her article, start with your problems. You may not get far, but, for most people, once the trust is there it is a relief to share their secret. The most important lesson is not to breach this trust. People with depression are unhappy enough without rumours starting, so keep their confidence. I watched a close relative die of cancer, then, within a short space of time, my grandmother died. By this point I had been on several anti-depressants and was seeing a therapist, but the added stressors tipped me over the edge. One morning I went to get up to go for a shower and just couldn t do it. This sounds funny, but the thought of going for a shower was too enormous a task to comprehend. My husband managed to get me as far as the bathroom, but I sat looking at the shower, thinking through how difficult each step was, getting undressed, getting into the shower not difficult unless you ve hit crisis point, as I had. I was taken to my GP and referred to the Psychiatric Emergency Crisis Service (PECS and no, the ridiculousness of the acronym, even at this low point, was not lost on me). Someone came in every day to ensure that I was not going to do anything detrimental to myself. After two weeks of PECS coming in, I was admitted to a mental health unit in my local hospital. The staff were brilliant and gave me a medication change, along with a break from everyday worries and the opportunity to talk when necessary. I stayed for five weeks. Following my release from hospital, I took an overdose, although fortunately I did not sustain lasting damage. This is not one of my finer moments. I soon made the decision to leave my beloved profession and try a different career. I don t know if I will ever be able to leave veterinary nursing, but I owe it to my health to try. I fight my depression every single day and can only hope that one day I will get there. In confiding to some of my friends, I have discovered that I am not alone by any stretch of the imagination. When I plucked up the courage to say I have depression, I was amazed how many replied Me too, I m on x. Sad, but it only goes to show that although there s a huge taboo over the subject, you will not be the first, nor the last, to be affected. 3 / 6

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5 Those with depression often suffer in silence, rather than ask for a helping hand. Photo: ISTOCKPHOTO/ALDO MURILLO. 5 / 6

6 Powered by TCPDF ( Depression has a range of symptoms, many of them psychological, that may have been building over a period of time. Photo: ISTOCKPHOTO/YIN YANG. 6 / 6