The Black Dog Thread

[Proudhuff]

keep talking Hawk, its the best thing (along with medical help), have a close pal who's PTSD really affected her, but  with time, support and gradually reducing meds came out the other side, hang in there.

[Dandontdare]

What they said - keep on keeping on buddy, we're all rooting for you.

[JayzusB.Christ]

So something happened today I never expected nor hoped would happen.

I had an anxiety attack. Nothing new, not had one in a year but still, yet it was the worst i’d ever experienced, to the degree that mid work shift I was physically paralysed by the experience and was made physically unwell by the psychological trauma. Long story short, I ended up admitting myself to Manchester North General due to just how unwell the experience had made me, and after a consultation and 5 hours of waiting it turns out not only do I have depression, anxiety, and imposter syndrome but also PTSD, and will now be on a prescription to deal with such.

So yeah. Not a great festive season thus far.

Aw, man. That's rough.  I've been through the depression and anxiety attacks (maybe it's the meds, or maybe a much deeper understanding of how to deal with them, but I stopped getting the latter twenty years ago) .

As for Imposter Syndrome,  I remember reading once that everybody has it, particularly the more successful types. 

But that's probably unhelpful.  Please take care of yourself and I really hope you're all good when the festive season starts in earnest.

[TordelBack]

You'll get past this Hawkie, like the footsore old campaigner you are.  Mightily impressed that you had the balls and the presence of mind to head straight for medical help: that's the way to do it. Barely fought off a sudden assault of the wibbly wobblies myself on Monday, maybe it's partly the time of year.

Sending good thoughts your way even if you can't muster any of your own. This too shall pass.

[Dark Jimbo]

Mightily impressed that you had the balls and the presence of mind to head straight for medical help: that's the way to do it.

Aye, truly impressive! Not sure I'd have dared (well, I never did)!

[Hawkmumbler]

Thanks lads, particularly the Bolt house, made me smile and miss you lot some that did.

It all feels a bit silly now, after the consultation, and after I got home and just tried to relax a bit, it all suddenly started to make sense how this new diagnosis basically explains most of my mental ailments and poor emotional health.

Hopefully the medicine does it’s job and i’ll go another year without an episode like this, as I said, they’re far less frequent than they once where.

[Funt Solo]

I wanted to post something, thought that I had nothing worthwhile to say that could actually help so avoided it but still wanted to offer some support. It's a bit like giving someone a stale biscuit and some lukewarm tea and telling them "chin up".

[The Legendary Shark]

My best to you, Hawkie - not that you need it, I'm certain you'll prevail.

[Tjm86]

.... it all suddenly started to make sense how this new diagnosis basically explains most of my mental ailments and poor emotional health.

Worth bearing that in mind Hawkie.  Sometimes it can feel like its emotions and what have you that are in control or rather out of control.  Confusing as hell when it comes out of left field and doesn't seem to make sense.

Just don't make the mistake of thinking you are your diagnosis.  You have a diagnosis, there is a massive difference.  Make sure you keep badgering your GP about Primary Care as well.  Meds helps manage but a good Primary Care Team can make a world of difference.

The worst thing about blips is feeling guilty as hell after them, like you've somehow let everyone down.  Like you say, its been a while since something like this has happened.  They may well happen again.  Not your fault so don't beat yourself up over it (anyone else want to chime in here with the old "yeah, easier said than done line ...").  If you really need it I'm sure we can round up a couple of volunteers to do it for you!   

[The Legendary Shark]

I've been a bit down, recently. There's this loose idea running around in my head like an excited puppy, knocking things over and widdling in corners. Two years ago I had a heart attack in January. Last year I had one in February. This year...

.

It's daft, and I know it's daft, but that puppy just won't sit still. Every time I bend down to pick something up, every time I fill a shovel or drive a spade into the ground the puppy is always there, reminding me that this could be the thing that's going to kill me. It's really rather disconcerting.

I was noodling on this quite deeply the other day. I usually listen to podcasts or audiobooks or lectures while I'm working but on this day I left the ear buds out. The day was calm and sunny, but cool, and the birds were in fine throat. I tried to listen but was working in the front garden by the main road so their concert intermittently disappeared under the weight of a tractor's growl, a truck's roar or a motorbike's squeal. And I grumbled and wished the traffic would dry up so I could listen to the birds and not have to think about the fact that this impending bad mood could be the bad mood that's going to kill me.

It felt like a tipping point, nudging me into the darkness, because suddenly, on top of my frustrations, bad mood and impending death, my back ached, my nose bubbled and my fingers glowed with cold.

The Spent Twins chose that moment to sweep down the path in their precious 4x4. Zoe and Chloe Spent live on the farm in a small and extremely cluttered caravan. Eroded by life, they move through it as if shouldering into the teeth of a gale, pulling various damages and infirmities after them. Their faces, non-identical but disturbingly close, are so care worn as to be practically unreadable. They look like they've been helping Sisyphus. And they sometimes pick me stuff up from Iceland.

Zoe's window sweeps down and she glares out at me. "There's some strawberries in the 'fridge for you," she says. She hacks a glob of phlegm out of the window, sweeps it closed and then powers the precious 4x4 onto the main road and away.

The birdsong returned, for a while, before being destroyed by a rasping red delivery van. I found myself wrestling with a stubborn root that just might prove to be...

I sighed. Nothing had changed. Except... Except now there were strawberries.

[sheridan]

Shark - I don't think I have anything useful to say (other than strawberries are good) but that was a very poetic post you made!

[von Boom]

Sharky, I had a similar feeling of impending doom for years. My father died days before his 50th birthday and that stuck with me. As each year passed this feeling grew in frequency and intensity. My 49th was a year long see-saw of emotion wondering if the same thing would happen to me. Fortunately my 50th came and went and I'm still here.

I can't give any advice to help with that feeling but I can understand it and hope for you that nothing comes of it. At least you have strawberries.

[paddykafka]

Best wishes to you, Sharky. Am all too familiar with that dark, canine fecker so I hope you'll be alright. Take care, mate!

[Funt Solo]

Once, when feeling very low, I would pick the one thing that I felt made life worth living for to get me to step into the next day.  It's something of a first-world idea, I suppose (and happened a long while ago): the only thing I remember being on it was Crunchy Nut Cornflakes.

But then there's that saying: it's the small things in life. Strawberries are better.

[sheridan]

I used to love crunchy nut corn flakes!  Though strawberries are definitely going to be a thing now!