Healing is not my master…


Hello and a very big thank you for dropping by to see what I have to share. I hope that the past fortnight has been good to you and there has been much joy in your life. I certainly have a lot to share with you as I have had a big ‘finding me adventure’. I use this blog as part of my medical healing process, and that was on the recommendation of my doctor as I love writing. Fourteen days ago I had to seek the help for my anxiety and depression.  I had a couple of friends and my kids who noticed the downward spiral and effectively gave me little choice in seeking help from the local mental health unit at the hospital.

Those who read my blog often know that I am currently in a major depressive episode and my anxiety has effectively been keeping me in my room, panicking about everything.  I had some form of seizure in June and ended up in a 9-day coma, which the medical profession is still trying to work out what was the cause and the list is quite extensive. As a result of this turn, I have damage to the left-hand side frontal lobe, heart issues, liver scarring, memory is questionable, gallbladder problems, epilepsy, depression, anxiety and I often end up shaking to the point I can not hold a cup unless I use both hands. I have gone from a qualified teacher in May to a person who has trouble recalling her name and feels as if I am I a waste of space with nothing to offer to anyone.

I feel that most people do not understand mental illness or the constant pain that physical inabilities have on those of us unlucky enough to suffer from it. I have suffered from mental illness most of my life but it has always been something to be hidden, ashamed of and I was lucky as I have good people skills and helped others, so no-one ever noticed when I was struggling. Sadly after the life threating seizure I have lost my skills that have always allowed me to communicate with others, I am unable to hide my embarrassing traits and I am having MASSIVE problems adjusting.

Now before you think that I am conceited I will share with you that I am a level 5 dyslexic, which is a neurobiological condition. I had all the beneficial skills that go with this – inquiring mind, problem-solving, great a getting new ideas, always developing new ideas without prompting, excellent at analytic thinking and always having a creative answer to any situation, mecca never stood a chance against my ever ticking mind, I always had more than one way out of trouble (really annoyed both my parents and teachers), and as I have got older I can see the bigger picture and know that I can give more than a quick thought on any issue. This was not discovered until I was in university  (I was in my 30s) and volunteered for a mental health study, the professor was really amazed at how intelligent I was with the level I presented with and the fact that it had never been detected.

I was very lucky with my hospital stay as the staff gave me some advice on coping skills, some information to think about. I have always been a writer and reader but since my turn, I have big problems remembering words, how to spell, sentence formation and it really upsets me. One of the nurses (after having read one of the entries in my diary ) asked me if my spelling was an issue in the classroom, I told her that I would often get words wrong. Her next question was “what do you do with your students to overcome this problem”, that was easy as I just let them know that I did not always spell words right and that everyone gets things wrong and it is not a problem. The problem comes if you do not let others help you, so if Miss Bee gets her words wrong, hands up and one of you can come up and fix it up. My nurses’ response was ‘so you need to do the same thing you told your students to do…let people come up and help you fix it up, and one problem at a time. So simple went I heard her say that…no it will not be easy to get into practice as I can be too bloody stubborn for my own good.

So after spending a fortnight in the mental health unit….not really remembering going there but coming home with a plan to visit a psychologist on the Island, doing a regular walking routine, and putting a weight loss programme in place, I should be able to reduce my bodily pain, gain skills to control my mental illness and retrain myself to go into a job that will take my mental and physical restrictions into account. I want to thank you for reading to the end of my piece, I do write for myself but it is just so wonderful to know that there are people who enjoy my words enough to drop by from time to time.

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