It never rains but it pours

A bit of information overload to begin with, just for a bit of context.

It was the 20th of December when I found out about the hole in my heart & I had a vague understanding of  what that meant for me over the coming months.

At the time, I was on the wait list for a hysterectomy due to excessive bleeding & pain which were leading to constant issues with my iron levels & general well-being (I was increasingly exhausted & also struggling with the hormonal side of things)

There was also an outstanding review of a breast lump on my left side which I had an ultrasound on earlier in the year.

A couple of weeks prior to my ASD diagnosis I had also gone to hospital for what, at the time, was deemed a reaction to oven cleaner or possibly food - either way my throat had been extremely tight & I couldn't swallow properly. Although I could breathe in fine, my throat still felt 'thick' or 'closed up' so I had a lot of fear around my airway closing.

Besides these major health concerns there have been the constant annoying small issues, sometimes created by or accentuated by the other problems or treatment of the other problems.

As it always has, my anxiety bubbles below the surface every step of the way, rearing it's head occasionally, with more force lately, letting me know the new information is giving it more strength.

Fast forward to today - the scans & tests requested by the cardiologist are booked in, the last of them at the very end of February, meaning I should know where I'm headed surgery wise for my heart sometime in March.

Since the 'reaction' that sent me to hospital, I've continued to have the same symptoms with my throat on & off - sometimes scary & I have presented to hospital since with zero help from the ED doctors. Thankfully my GP has sent me for some swallow tests & also to an ENT specialist at Greenslopes to rule out any serious issues.

Due to the inconclusive scans & tests done on my breast lump, my GP decided that while I wait for my referral to the Breast Specialist at the Mater to be processed, I should take some antibiotics to rule out infection. I'll tell you some more fun facts about that in a moment. I'm still waiting to hear from the Mater on an appointment, they said on the phone today I should have more information within the next week.

So, when my GP asked me to take antibiotics for my breast lump, I initially refused. Firstly, I don't think a breast lump that appeared many months ago would be an infection or I would have known about it much sooner. Secondly, I had been on so many courses of antibiotics - mostly for ingrown nails (that apparently have no intention of clearing up) that I'd had chronic, unforgiving thrush. Despite creams, medication & other remedies to clear that up, it also had a life of it's own, refusing to go away. I explained this to the GP who completely understood but insisted that it could still possibly be an infection & we should treat it as such until proven otherwise. I folded & came to regret it.

Day one and two of the antibiotics was okay, they were pretty intense - a vivid purple & blue capsule that tasted like absolute shit. The dose was three pills three times a day & they weren't fun to get down. Day three was Monday, off to work I went. Shit hit the fan only minutes after taking my tablets, I was in the middle of a conversation with my boss when I started to feel unwell & excused myself, rushing to the bathroom. I felt extremely unwell very quickly, cold sweats, nausea, dizzy & short of breath, but most dominant of all was the pain in my chest, back & down my arms. After dry retching a bit and splashing some cold water on my face, I realised I was alone in a public toilet. Not the place to be in such a situation, I very quickly hauled my ass back to my office where I found a co worker who could see straight off I wasn't okay. From here, I was looked after by my coworkers and boss - a wet towel around my neck because I was so freaking hot. I have to interject here & describe my boss. She is a lovely lady in her 60's who always looks freaking fabulous. Not a hair out of place, amazing wardrobe with matching accessories. She's basically a bit of a badass in heels and at this point has her clipboard whipping up & down, providing a make-shift fan for my fainting ass, which has now slid to the floor. Because of the recent diagnosis with my hole in my heart & the somewhat severe chest pain I had that did not seem to be going away 40 minutes after it had first come on, we decided an ambulance was probably the safest course of action. From the second they arrived the ambos were hard at work & I was pumped with drugs. Because they had no way of getting a definitive answer to what was happening they treated me for the worst case scenario stuff, giving me strong AF pain meds (Fentanyl) through an IV as well as some weird shit under my tongue every 10 minutes in case it was a blood clot. I was also given Ondansetron to counter the nausea from the pain medication. Through all of this the throat symptoms were back & pretty intense.

Now those of you who know me know I will go out of my way to pay compliments to services & staff for jobs well done - I also do the complaints thing pretty hard core if I'm not treated well. Dr Shaun probably needed to not be on shift this particular day. Not only was Dr Shaun's head so far up his own ass he was talking shit to begin with but when I was administered another drug for my nausea which hadn't subsided (I was dry retching pretty frequently at this point) & had an immediate reaction, Dr Shaun SHRUGGED ME OFF. I am allergic to Maxalon which is also an anti-nausea drug. This time I was given Droperidol & I had pretty much the same reaction, this time much much worse. I recognised the feeling straight away, the uncontrolled body movements, inability to sit still but this time it came with something a lot more sinister. the side affects as a whole are called 'extrapyramidal' but the specific effect from that was 'neuroleptic malignant syndrome' which is characterised by an 'altered mental status'. Basically I lost my shit. I was overcome with fear, I didn't want to be alone, I kept thinking I was going to die, my mind then wandered to the health concerns with my heart & breast lump which caused more waves of fear & very unwelcome thoughts (that it would be easier if I did just die).
Dr Shaun was not overly concerned by this very sudden & very contrasting change in behaviour. He huffed when I told him I needed him to give me something to calm down & finally ordered for some Valium to be administered. 10mg of Valium later, my shaking & ticks were now only coming in waves but my mind was still not back on track. Jake had arrived at this point & I had been told there were no signs of anything serious happening to my heart or lungs; the original pain I had come into hospital with had completely gone now. As such, I told Jake to get me the hell out of dodge.

Hours later I was still no better & Jake was trying to find a way to get my car from work all the way out at Inala. When he told me he was going to pick up the car I lost it & repeated that I could not be alone. We called Mum who came straight over & when I told her what had happened, how I was thinking & feeling we made a plan to get some more help. We only decided on the GP office when we were in the car. We also had half a mind to attend the Mental Health Clinic at the local community center since my main ailment at that moment was this sudden drastic shift in mindset. Well I'll be buggered if the ER Doctors don't need some time out in GP land because the GP was more help in 15 minutes than the ER Doctor had been in 2 hours. The original pain in my chest was from esophageal spasms caused by the antibiotics I'd been taking. The reassurance from the GP that the thoughts & feelings I was having were a reaction to the Droperidol was enough to calm me a little more. She gave me a script for a drug to counteract the side affects but warned that it also had side effects of its own & that if I could manage to ride it out I would only have to do so for another 6 hours, that I was half way through the come down & each 90 minutes the effects would halve. I filled the script just in case but never took the medication. I spent the rest of my day trying to sleep off what was left in my system.

The next day I was up getting ready for work & getting Char ready for daycare when I had another wave of the intense anxiety I'd felt from the drug.  Jake having left at 4:30am for work I was alone & knew that was not going to be okay for me. I immediately called my Mum, packed Charli & myself up for the day & drove like a bat out of hell to her unit. I had my work clothes there & was convinced I just needed help to get out the door. That plan died pretty much straight away when I was in the shower & the feeling kept coming back. I stayed with Mum for most of the day, struggling to feel 'okay' in myself enough to even be alone. Talking with my Mum I told myself that I'd had a LOT of drugs not 24 hours earlier & that my body was still just processing & ridding itself of all the crap.

Yesterday morning I got myself to work, I had near meltdowns across large portions of my day & dove into work that I could do without having to think too much about. Despite this, I was extremely forgetful & basically scraped through the hours having to concentrate a lot of energy on appearing okay & keeping a VERY tight lid on my emotions. Remembering at 4am this morning that I had in fact missed one of the major daily tasks I'd needed to do, amongst a whole lot of other things I felt pretty bloody terrible & sent my coworker an email & SMS this to let her know I'd been off the planet. Hopefully I'm forgiven.

Today I had to get groceries - it wasn't a question of leaving it for another day, we had almost nothing in the house to eat. Even though Mum came with me I spent a good portion of the trip feeling not great & detached from what I was physically doing. That has continued for most of the day.

So, I'm hoping it'll all pass & I'll be back to normal soon but every time my throat tightens & I struggle to swallow & every time I think about the massive journey ahead, my anxiety ramps up to levels it hasn't been at for many many years. I feel as though the 'control' I've had over my anxiety is completely gone & it has taken over a good portion of my thinking & day-to-day living. I don't want to leave the house for fear I will feel this way in front of people. The scans & tests I had been so keen for only days ago so that the ball was rolling for my heart surgery are now clouded with fear of being alone in the hospital.

There have been a lot of bad thoughts about what is to come over the past few days. Maybe I've just broken - the number of things going on just a little too much. Maybe a bit of PTSD from such a horrible experience at the hospital, induced by the drug but exacerbated by a crappy doctor. I have no freaking answers right now. It's easy to fake it when I see people (thankfully) but so hard at home when I can feel and be vulnerable. Where Jake cops the brunt of my tears & uselessness.

I've said it before with my previous anxiety & depression experiences but guys - be kind. Be fucking nice to everyone you meet. You have NO IDEA what's going on for them, how close they are to breaking down or how freaking exhausted they are from their own shit, whatever it may be. I know I'm a bit of a unicorn when it comes to being open with things - not everyone will put out there what's going on behind closed doors. We all need a lot of love. And chocolate. Chocolate always helps.

Lots of love xx

Got Nothin'

All of my previous posts that have touched on (or excavated into) depression or anxiety have been written with positivity. I’ve kept it real while ensuring I wasn’t just sharing woes, but making a point. This time, not so much.

I have spent the past 6 weeks in a horrible state only fitting my mask for work & for social events. The mask usually covers all of the symptoms but this time it doesn’t quite fit, often slipping when I need it to stay on the most. I’ve been nauseous, with jittery hands & shortness of breath. My mind is scattered & forgetful. I’m angry, frustrated, sad, lost, disappointed & worried – all of the things I often feel & that so many people feel, except I’m not keeping a lid on it quite like I normally do.

Today was a rare & exciting date day for Jake & I. With no Charli to tend to we headed to the cinemas to be one of the last to see the new Avengers movie. I cried in the car on the way there, feeling super sick in the stomach, anxiety had its claws in my chest already & wasn’t letting go. I cried at breakfast when I couldn’t sit still & couldn’t hold a conversation with my mind so fractured & adrift. I set some shopping goals to have something to do before the movie started & spent that hour putting all of my energy into finding what we were after so I simply didn’t have to think about anything else. The movie distracted me for a while but with some good laughs & some sad scenes, the constantly bubbling pot of emotions threatened to boil right over, flipping off a lid that might not go back on again.

On & on go the days like this, at work, out to coffee catch-ups, at home on the couch. All of my usual go-tos feel like I’m trying to put a Band-Aid on a severed artery. There’s nothing for it. So today I say that sometimes, I’ve got nothin’. Despite trying as a hard as possible, doing all of the things I can think of, it is just sitting with me for now. So, I’ll go to bed & hope tomorrow is different or at least better. Forgive me while my mask is ill-fitted, it’ll snap back into shape soon, it always does.

Don't Do a Me

I wouldn't say I've been 'ignoring' the warning signs... more so benching them for when I had time to deal. When I had time - instead of making time. I haven't made much time for anything lately & I knew months ago that I wasn't doing so great. I knew because I stopped enjoying things, therefore I stopped doing much at all. I knew because I started avoiding social situations, began to find a lot of things 'too hard' & ultimately got into an eat, work, sleep, repeat routine. I thought it would work. I began to set the mini goals that have gotten increasingly smaller - make it through the week, make it through the day, make it to work, make it out of bed. Yesterday I made it out of bed & to work - but I didn't make it to the end of the day.
It has been so so long since I had a panic attack as bad as yesterday. I always have my rescue remedy spray & when I start to feel it, my chest tighten, my breathing getting short, I take a few sprays, give myself 5 & get back to it. Even lately, when the physical symptoms have been steadily getting worse, when my chest is actually aching, my hands shaking, my leg in jackhammer mode; I would take a hit of my spray, get a cuppa, splash some water on my face & all would be well.
When this started to become an hourly thing during my work day I went to the doctor who immediately set a plan in place. Thinking that it would all be okay soon, I kept plodding along. Until yesterday. The panic attack started at about 2 pm, as I was in the middle of a teleconference. As anyone with anxiety & depression will know we are so good at faking it. So good at smiling & nodding & chatting - until we are finally alone & let it all fall down. I got through the rest of my teleconference, took a hit of Rescue Remedy & 10 minutes later when instead of starting to de-escalate, I started to sweat & feel nauseous, I went to the break room which is always cooler temperature wise. I had a chat to a colleague there, again master of feigning calm. Back to my desk where physically I could barely sit still, I tried to complete very small tasks one at a time, send this email, tidy up this paperwork. Nothing helped. Panic started to breed panic & I rushed to the bathroom. Thankfully there were no unsuspecting victims in the single staff toilet when I came bursting (literally, if the walls weren't brick I may have put a hole behind the door) in. Once the tears started they wouldn't stop . It was 3.45pm by now & I was keeping track. Why had it lasted so long? Could I make it through the next hour & a quarter? No. I actually couldn't. I sucked in enough air to keep my body upright & told my manager I needed to go home. Beautiful as ever, she made me feel as though it wasn't an issue, acknowledged my puffy tear-streaked state by ensuring I was going to be okay & was there anything she could do to help. Once outside - to the horror of some bystanders I ran hunched over to my car. I dry-retched from Inala all the way to Eagleby, hot tears all but gushing down my face. As I pulled into my Mum's unit complex to find her little green car missing from the parking lot, my panic amped up another notch, if at all possible & waves of helplessness came again & again triggered by the smallest things. The bluetooth wasn't connected - why? Oh yes, Ashleigh you have already turned off the car. Idiot. Oh my god where is my bag? It's there it just tipped over under the dash in the drive. Sweet Jesus where is the phone? Why do I have so many things in here? Finally, ringing  before I could even think about the consequences, Mum was on the other end of the line. Poor Mum. I couldn't keep the waver from my voice as I demanded to know where she was. I was at her house where was she? At work, you know, living her own life. She assured me she would be home soon & I could let myself inside. Still sobbing, I took a deep breath & held it as I ducked out of my extremely inconspicuous bright red car that had torn into the complex, power walked past all of the other units housing Mum's friends that I would usually stop & chat to if we crossed each others paths & shakily climbed the stairs. After I got inside I sat on the floor & continued to heave & cry. It just wouldn't stop. After what felt like an eternity Mum got home & let me fall into her arms & cry. She made me a cup of tea & we talked about what had happened. Yes there were a heap of factors that could have made this attack blow out, yes I had been to see Dr Nick I am booked in again Sunday. Good lord yes I would love a Chai & this crying won't stop so I'll take a half of a relaxant, not a quarter, thanks. 15 minutes later I was laying on the lounge, head in Mum's lap as she stroked my hair, feeling the relief of the medication slowing my body right down.
The rest of the night is a slow blur. I can remember that Jake & Char came to Mums where we had Noodle Box, I can tell you that Jake & I watched some of 'The Good Place' when we got home - I couldn't tell you how or when I transitioned from the lounge into bed. I woke up at 1:45am & haven't been to sleep since. although I have tried all of my usual sleep inducing techniques. So I made a Milo, let the dogs in & started to write. It's getting light outside now, almost time to get ready for work - just as my eyes are getting droopy, of course.
My point I suppose, is that instead of giving myself some much needed care & listening to my mental & emotional cues, I've let things get pretty bad & now I have to build back up from a very low point which I know from experience will be harder. Anyone else like me who is getting worn out & slowly declining, don't do a me, please make time for yourself. <3

Hold Fast

This post is about depression & anxiety. It’s about the struggles, the reality & the impact this disorder has across the board. If you don’t believe this is a real disorder, go find something else to read. The internet is full of good stuff. I recommend Cracked.com. If you decided to read on & have negative comments, keep them to yourself, share them with like-minded people. I don’t care if you don’t understand, I don’t care if you think myself & those like me should ‘get over it’. You’re a wanker. And although I understand that you’re probably uneducated on the subject & have zero empathy for things you can't comprehend, your wankery responses aren’t welcome here & will be deleted.

Also, everyone’s battle with this disorder is completely different, this is just my journey & my perspective. I have GENERALISED ANXIETY & DEPRESSION, different to PTSD, PND, Social Anxiety & a whole stream of other disorders that have like SYMPTOMS. So don’t get your knickers in a knot when you read below about what does & doesn't work for me. It doesn’t work like that. Google the shit.

2016 is just around the corner & it will mark the start of my 7th year dealing with anxiety & depression. Admittedly, it started long before that, but the first major meltdown was in early 2009. It was the first time I had insight to the fact that there was a lot more to my low mood than a bad break-up, a negative comment from a colleague or no longer fitting into those size 8 jeans I loved so much. They were just the triggers.

I think the hardest part for me to understand & come to terms with is HOW.

Prior to this horrible & debilitating disorder taking hold, I was a different person. Full of life, fun, motivation & a killer “She’ll be right” attitude. I didn’t worry about a thing, I never second guessed myself & overall I was just a healthy person inside & out. It annoys the piss out of me that the woman who should have grown from that child & teenager does not & never will exist.

Instead my life is a constant battle against this disorder. There aren't many days I don't cry, don't have an anxiety attack or don't feel defeated. It rarely shows to the outside world & my fiancée & best friend are the only ones who truly know how bad it can get.

I used to ask myself all the time what the hell was wrong with me. I live in one of the best countries in the world. I have a good job. I have all of the love & support I could possibly need from my family & friends. What did I possibly have to be worried or upset about?

No medical condition, including mental & emotional health disorders targets a person based on their income, living situation or level of support. So when it comes to bringing these factors to the table & wondering why I still can’t stop crying, why I can’t find a way to get out of bed or a reason to smile – there is no point. I can assure you it’s not a bloody choice.

In the beginning, I berated myself constantly. I did not understand why I felt this way. Why I lacked energy, willpower, positivity. Why I woke up feeling like I wished I hadn’t. I couldn’t face the day. I sure didn't need some condescending asswipe who had zero interest in my true wellbeing telling me to "Just choose to be happy" & that any thoughts of suicide had been completely selfish. It never helped and it never will.

My personal favourite is the "everyone hits rough patches throughout their life, you just have to deal with it". Even when said with the best of intentions, this makes me want to slap the person across the face. This disorder doesn't mean I'm not dealing with life, it doesn't mean I need to learn any life skills. You idiot.

The reality is I do completely appreciate my life, the people & things in it. I am not okay with this disorder and I FIGHT it every damn day. I have done the whole show – the psychologists, the psychiatrists, the medication, the exercise, the yoga, the freaking deep breathing. All of which can help in the right situations but are NOT magic cures.

I’ve come to terms with the fact that this is part of my life & instead of trying to get rid of it, like most GP’s & uneducated wankers (there they are again!) will suggest – I have to LIVE with it. And I do, I'm getting better at it every day. The panic will never leave. The tightness in my chest, the shaking, the uneasy stomach. They will never truly be gone, just ready to raise their ugly heads whenever they please. 

So as much as the wankers aren't to be given free passage to berate us as the will, the masses of completely ignorant jerks will continue to swarm & do what they do - berate us, make it harder to live with these disorders, which is what we need to do. We are just as responsible for the stigma surrounding mental illness as they are. It's up to those of us that have to live with it, if for a period of time after an event, if for the brief periods where things get tough, if for the lifetime that your chemical/hormonal or whatever imbalance has you shackled to this debilitating illness; learn what works for you, do it & be safe & happy in the knowledge that you are doing all that you can each day. Ignore the people that will never understand & be strong. Stand together & be proud - not of your disease but the fact that you're strong enough to fight it day in & day out & you are a badass for that.

To everyone I know with any related disorders & to the strangers that this reaches, hold fast, friends. You've got this.