I ws recently told of a lady who was a long term housebound agoraphobic and of how she made it down to Manchester from the North of Scotland for a christening- one my family went to last week but I of course didn't. Now that my wife is back I can report that all went well for the lady. Not only did she also go out for a meal both nights while she stayed down there but even went ten pin bowling with the kids the yesterday before coming home. My sister-in-law reports, via my wife, that although she still has her moments her prescription of Prozac has "given her her life back". As I said previously it is good to hear these stories of return to wellness by whatever means. It is another illustration of how the path for everyone is different as I am sure Prozac is not the answer for all .
It got me thinking. I am very lucky to have a good understanding GP. Were this woman to be his patient though she would still be housebound for the simple reason that he refuses to medicate unless under special circumstances. The thing is though I agree with him even though I can see in this case this woman would still be stuck in the misery of confinement. His reasoning is that most medications are addictive and medication is only a short term solution which doesn't actually aide the recovery process ong term unless it is supplemented by some other form of help. That additional help would be CBT, group therapy, counselling or whatever is specific to the patients needs. For this he is not specialised as he is a general practitioner so he refers people with mental health issues to their specialist services- in the UK that being community mental health. Furthermore he sees it as their duty as the overseers to medicate as required. That seems reasonable to me. My next question will be who is medicating this lady and if it is her GP I would wonder what additional long term help she is getting. I will ask. In this type of reasoning I am think of long term agoraphobia rather than other anxiety related issues.
So what about my situation? Well a long time ago I came to the conclusion that I had to go it alone. That is something I have accepted is the best way forward for me. I've heard in the past how mental problems are costing the NHS a fortune but I would wonder why when so many people I have talked to have been picked up and dropped by mental health services never to be contacted again. My first referral led to a couple of months of CBT-lite by a CPN relating back and forth with a collegue via post-it notes attached to things I had written. It was mainly concerned with depression, working out money problems and the like which was of no use to me and I was glad when she said she had done as much as she could before leaving for good. My second referral brought two psychologists who listened to me for around 15 minutes, asked what I wanted them to do for me and then said just keep doing what I was doing before disappearing for good. Between those visits I was in the wake of the crisis which saw my wife rushed into hospital indefinitely and had me left at home with the kids. I phoned the CPN to ask for help and she basically told me it wasn't her problem and to contact my GP instead. That is what I did and despite being against medicating he gave me a few boxes of Diazapam. He saw my plight and at least had the compassion to ease my worry at the time.
Those boxes of pills are virtually untouched 2 years after I was prescribed them. I guess I just needed too know they were there in the event of a mental breakdown. A year ago I took one pill and had a bad reaction but that could have been my own fear of pill taking that caused it. Since hearing about this lady though it has put doubt in my head. As I have been resigned to going it alone that means no medication but then I see someone achieve a better standard of living via medication so it casts doubt. Every time I am in the bathroom I see those boxes and ponder. Should I take one?, I think to myself. Remember what happened last time?, I also follow up with. But still I wonder whether a better life in the short term is contained in those boxes. This is where I get annoyed with myself. I think I have something fixed in my mind and then I start to doubt it but I guess that is understandable given how suggestive the anxious mind is. I won't be taking any in the near future but it is a question that will fly about my head for the next week at least until I make a decision- though I should check the best before date first I suppose.
The thing with general anxiety disorder is that some days it weighs heavier than others. There are days you can get by just fine and days where you just cannot find peace anywhere- those are the ones I clock watch hoping for the night to come quickly. Today was one of the latter. The anxiety was in truth overshadowed by the sheer frustration of being. After a few good days I just awoke as a bundle of nerves and in agitation suggested to my wife we go out for a drive. She in turn suggested the beautiful Chatelherault Country Park. Since I have not been there since my problems started it was a reluctant agreement and as soon as I had the seat belt on the apprehension was growing. We were just 2 minutes drive from it when I asked my wife to turn back and I put away my camera losing out on the promise of beautiful views. My wife then got sneaky after I said we didn't have to go straight back home. We then found ourselves on a little country road surrounded by expanses of barren fields and I was quite relaxed. As we turned a corner though I recognised we were at the gates of Calderglen Country Park. Just that knowledge of where we were and the fact that I had not been there for over 4 years was enough to send us back the way again. The lure of owls, Meerkats and a conservatory full of tropical animals wasn't enough to stop the urge to flee. So we headed back home and ended up in a traffic jam and me being me I panicked for a third time until we finally got moving again. It turned out to be a broken down bus causing the hold up but we were lucky as behind us the tail backs disappeared into the distance.
Like I said there are days like that. I've had times in the past year when I have went out further over the course of weeks and got out tof he car too for short walks without so much as a threat of panic. So much again relates to our general state. That is why I think when I got back home I started to mull over those boxes of pills. My mind kept asking whether by taking one of those tiny things I could have enjoyed the day instead of running from it. In turn it would have given my wife and son a better day too. One of those little pills has the potential to do that but at the same time its not the road I want to go down if I can help it. For one what would I do when I ran out because nobody would give me more.
But coming back to community mental health I have started to feel an anger. I made up my mind I will go it alone and that is what I will do. To be honest though I had little choice in the matter and I know that is the case with a fair few people. They don't seem to want to know unless they can provide a short term fix. In matters like deciding whether to medicate and what to medicate with I feel they should be there. As they should also for help in terms of information, strategies and regular check ups- even just an email correspondence every few months. People with anxiety issues need questions answered and direction. Were it not for the internet I think I would be a wreck by now and that should not be the case when there is supposed to be a funded service provided. But they are not there for a lot of people and so a lot of people have to go it alone not even sure if what they are doing is the right thing- that uncertainty alone is enough to keep them stuck. Ideally I think most people would like to do it on their own but some days it seems impossible, other days we are glad for doing so when we don't have to speak to someone taking part in a different conversation. I know that as frustrated with the so called "community" help as I am at the time of writing they will be far from my thoughts tomorrow or the day after. That's just the way it goes. Frustration builds in waves and then crash into the shore. Those little pills will still be there though. Maybe I should just bin them and be done with it.
