Winter’s coming, bringing with it another wave of swine flu. Those of us who ignored the wailing and hand wringing and didn’t get our flu shots may have to call in sick. No big deal, it’s a few days on the couch with a blanket and some chicken soup. I think I’m almost looking forward to it.

Winter can also bring with it a wave of depression, which in an odd way can be quite similar to flu. It can be quite mild, just needing some chicken soup and a bit of TLC, or it can be serious, debilitating and, in some cases, life threatening.

Despite the commendable work of organisations like Beyond Blue, there is still a shameful stigma attached to mental illness, and there shouldn’t be. Recognising, admitting to and seeking help for depression is no different to seeking treatment for a bad flu or a broken leg.

We owe much to the courage of people like Andrew Robb, Garry McDonald and Marion Keyes (and many others), who risked ridicule and damage to their careers by talking publicly, with brutal honesty, about their illness. I have the greatest admiration for their courage, and I’m not at all disparaging that by saying that it is easier to take those risks when you are financially secure and your career is well established. It would be a different story for young folk just starting out who risk being labelled as unreliable, or for the average Pay As You Go worker who does not have the luxury of taking three moths off work to recover from their illness. Those people need help to keep managing their lives, treatment to deal with their illness and the support of an understanding community that does not pass judgement on their condition.

Far better writers than I have described the effects of depression and anxiety, but every voice added to the chorus makes it stronger and adds to the general awareness that this can happen to anyone. So I promised myself a while ago that the next time it happened to me I would try to chronicle it. Last month I got my chance. At the worst of it I couldn’t write, but I made notes. What follows is the diary of my crash and slow recovery.

This is not intended to be a poor, poor pitiful me piece, I wrote this so that people like me will know they are not alone and to help people who are close to someone like me understand what they are going through. I’ve also included at the end as much information as I could find about where and how you can find help, including how to access medicare rebates and some mental health care professionals in the Port Philip area who I know to be effective in treating depression.

I hope it helps.

Rock Bottom

In bed. I can’t get up. Can’t speak, can’t sleep, can’t open my eyes. I just want to disappear. I ache all over. The weight of it crushes me into the bed. Family needing things from me come pecking at me. I have to close my eyes and beg them to go away. Please. Away.

I lie here and listen to the nightmares circle. Every horror I can imagine happens inside my head. I can’t make it stop. It hurts to breathe.

Exhaustion is utterly utterly overwhelming. I feel bruised all over. Pain and despair in waves that won’t stop. Guilt and shame for not being able to make it stop. Want to dig a hole in pull the ground in on top of me, but I’d never be able to dig a hole deep enough.

A few days later.

I got up today. I think I’m better, but I feel like everything is made of glass. If I step down too hard the ground will shatter. Or I will.

No-one is home. I walk around the house, the silence feels so loud. So much that needs to be done. Dishes. Food. Work. Talking. I’m supposed to do all those things. I failed. The failure is so crushing I can’t stand up.

I know this, it’s depression. I know that it happens to me, I think I even knew it was coming. I should have started exercising, sleeping properly, I should have done something to stop it before it was too late. I didn’t. Everything I do is wrong and hopeless. There’s no point trying to get better. It’s not worth it. Nothing is worth it.

I go back to bed.

Another few days

Kids wonder why I’m in bed every time they come home. I should explain it to them, I don’t know how. I get up; try to be with them, but voices jar too much. I can’t go back to bed again; I know it’s not fair to them, and I know it won’t help.

I stay up and try to be part of the world, but it feels wrong, disjointed, like being underwater. I can move through it all, but I can’t feel it properly. Nothing is interesting. It’s all grey, heavy, aching, not worth the energy.

I resent everyone who tries to drag me from my fog, but being alone is terrifying.

I go to work, it’s almost easier than being at home, no-one asks about how I feel. I can’t think, I can’t write. No-one speaks to me all day. I leave feeling dazed and lost.

I get home, my husband asks what’s wrong again. I can’t manage words, I tell him I’m not feeling well, beg him to leave me alone. He does. I feel guilt and shame, but it’s dulled, like a heavy, hopeless gray blanket over me. I should try harder. I can’t. More failure.

The news is on. The world is dark and horrifying. Tragic horrible things happening over and over. I am ashamed to feel this way, I have no cause to.

Another week

I went out to buy food today. All the people on the street look wrong, so distant from me. I feel like I’m not real. I couldn’t finish.

I have to go out tonight. I’ve been able to avoid it until now, but these tickets have been booked for weeks. Dinner with trusted friends is so terrifying that I can’t eat. I know I should stay away from alcohol, but it’s the only way I can get through the night. Eventually I drink enough that I can tell them what’s happening. I know there will be a price to pay, but it feels better to talk. They’re kind, they remind me that they’ve all had this before too. I think it helped.

6 hours later

I wake up, my chest is breaking. There’s not enough room in my lungs for air. Thoughts of the previous night, all the things I said are dive bombing me. It’s still dark, but I can’t lie there and listen to my brain, I have to get up. I try to read, but the words keep blurring. I feel like someone is slowly shredding all my tendons. I put on a DVD, I’ve seen it many times before. It drives the thoughts away and I can breathe again. This is the price for using alcohol to feel better. The crash is shattering.

A week later

I’m starting to come up now. I can walk and go outside by myself, I can breathe. Despite the backlash from drinking too much that night, talking did help, although maybe I should have tried it without the alcohol. The friends were gentle and supportive. Remembering that I am not alone, and that it will get better, that made a difference too. At the worst of it I didn’t think there was any other way to feel. I am feeling better, but so fragile. The pit following is me, waiting for me to trip and fall back in.

Another week

I’m definitely getting better. People have been very kind, I know that regular exercise is the only thing that works, so they started gently taking me out for walks. The first time I could barely speak or stand, now I can get to the gym and run for half an hour most days. It makes a huge difference. I must make sure I don’t slide away from this again. I am so grateful the worst is over, I’m still not quite right, and it goes in fits and starts, but I believe that it will end now. A few weeks ago I couldn’t remember what it felt like to be me, now I can and I’m even looking forward to getting myself back again. Thank you, so much, to all the people who helped me through. Even the ones who didn’t know that you were. Thank you.

Resources

Most media articles about mental health end with a link to Lifeline and a recommendation to seek help if you think you need it. Lifeline is an invaluable resource for people who have nowhere else to go, but there is so much more help available to people suffering from anxiety or depression.

The federal government introduced the Better Access To Mental Healthcare scheme in 2006. This scheme enables anyone with a mental illness to receive a Medicare rebate for up to 12 visits a year to psychiatrists, clinical psychologists, psychologists, social workers and occupational therapists. The rebate will be between 75% and 100% depending on your circumstances, which usually means that you will end up paying around $0 - $40 for each session, depending on who you see and what your eligibility is. You access the scheme through your GP, with an initial consultation to discuss the problems you are having and then a referral to a mental health professional. Most qualified psychiatrists and psychologists are covered by this scheme, but the amount they charge will vary. Beyone Blue has a detailed imormation guide about this on their downloads page or click here to download the PDF.

If you are feeling so bad that you cannot manage this on your own, most GPs will be happy to include someone you trust in the appointment, but they will not discuss your condition with anyone without your permission.

You can ask your GP for a referral to a therapist, but if you want some recommendations (because as much as we might wish it wasn’t so, some shrinks are madder than most of their patients) the following people are local, sane and genuinely helpful:

Torrey Orton, Victoria Avenue Psychology, 165 Victoria Avenue, Albert Park 3206, Ph 03 9682 4000

Gabby Skelsey, Bayside Counselling, 4 Glen Eira Avenue, Elwood 3184, Ph 9018 9356

Debbie Szental, 290 Inkerman St, St Kilda East 3182, Ph 0404 963 066

Jacqui Wise, Wise Ways, 76 Draper Street, South Melbourne 3205, Ph 9690 8159

Some other useful links:

www.pacfa.org.au lists all clinical members of counselling and psychotherapy and is the forerunner to the ARCAP Register

www.mifellowship.org Mental Illness Fellowship is Victoria's leading membership based not-for-profit organisation
working with people with mental illness, their families and friends to improve their well being

www.SANE.org SANE Australia is a national (Melbourne based) charity working for a better life for people affected by mental illness – through campaigning, education and research

http://www.webmd.com/depression/guide/depression-treatment-care Learn more about depression treatments and ways to care for your depression symptoms with antidepressants and/or psychotherapy. Also, discover the symptoms and treatment of depression in men, women, and the elderly as well as the problem of treatment resistant depression.

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