Well it is Independence Day, and if I’ve remembered right, this makes year twelve that I’ve been blogging at NicoStuff. I feel like it’s time to come clean about my mental health. From time to time I’ll be sharing some of the experiences that I’ve gone through, and I’ll be sharing more truthful posts of just what everyday life is like for me… I’ll still have crafty posts, and vegetarian posts too, but I finally feel comfortable sharing this part of my life with all of you…
In April I had a Doctor’s appointment. While I was confirming the appointment, I looked back on my medical history. April 2017 makes five years that I’ve been seeking treatment…
I haven’t shared this before. Honestly, I was scared, too embarrassed, and even ashamed of it. Lately I’ve been thinking that it is time to talk about this part of my life.
Time to see the Doctor…
I have had obsessive compulsive disorder ever since I was a child. Throughout my teenage years it was brutal migraines, severe anxiety issues, weight loss, and depression kicked in before I hit my twenties. About twelve years ago I was diagnosed with a severe chemical imbalance that caused a deep depression. I did seek treatment for the depression, but ultimately I gave up my medication so I could have Dylan.
I floated through the next few years of my life. Not feeling too bad, but not feeling too good. We welcomed our daughter Agnes, and before she was two, I started falling apart.
I noticed little things here and there… I started having trouble going out in public. My heart would race, my stomach would kill me, I was sick constantly. My o.c.d. tics acted up; skin-picking, skull scratching, constant fidgeting with my fingers. Then things got worse, during flu season, I would wake up every single night in a cold sweat. My heart would be racing, and cold sweats would lead to severe nausea. I passed it off as stomach flu, I even thought it was food poisoning, but after a few weeks it didn’t stop. I wasn’t sleeping, and I knew something was quite wrong.
I was due for my yearly well woman visit, but I told the nurse that something else was wrong. I didn’t know if it was depression again, but I just wasn’t right. I saw my doctor as quickly as they could schedule me.
I remember the appointment too well. A very close friend of mine was the nurse that was seeing me before the doctor came in. She had helped me with my last two pregnancies. She even signed up for the entire day that I was having Agnes, I was thankful to have her by my side.
I remember how sad she looked when I told her that I wasn’t well. I explained that I had become paranoid, and scared of going outdoors. I was having constant panic attacks during my sleep, and during the day I was fighting severe depression. We both teared up, and I started sobbing when she said “why didn’t you tell me this before…” I said, “I was afraid of everything. I was afraid that my children would be taken away” I was truly afraid that I would lose everything… When the doctor came in she said through big tears “please help my friend.”