Overcoming thoughts of self harm

THE following story comes from an anonymous contributor who wants to help break taboos and speak up about her thoughts of self harm, writes Linda Jones.

She says she isn't ready to be named as people aren't aware of how low she got. As her story also involves her husband, this is another reason for her name to be withheld.

Reading this account of how ill she was and how she sought help for the sake of her children will strike a chord with other parents. I'd like to say thank you to our contributor for speaking up and I hope your recovery continues to a point where you feel completely at ease. I also hope that confirming you are not alone, through comments left on this blog post will help you draw comfort from the fact so many others have been where you have and come out the other side too.

Our contributor writes:

THIS time last year I was not in a good place.

As we embarked upon the school holidays my partner was in the process of being made redundant and was on gardening leave.

For him it was a period of limbo, uncertainty, anger, rejection and a whole host of other unpleasant emotions. But I don’t think anything could have prepared us for the dramatic effect this single event would have on us as a family.

Photo by mischiru on flickr.

As men often do under pressure, my partner withdrew to his cave to lick his wounds. If he wasn’t talking to me angrily about work he wasn’t talking to me very much at all. His sense of pride, purpose and self worth had taken a huge knock.

Our family dynamic had changed completely and we were stuck at home together, 24/7, with two small children and an uncertain financial future.

It felt like we were living in a pressure cooker that was waiting to blow. I then discovered he had a ‘friend’ to whom he was able to talk. And he refused, point blank, to tell me who she was.

I was hurt and I was angry. I was worried about the future. Then I was suspicious –- very suspicious - to the point where it started to disrupt my normal, everyday life.

I was constantly on the lookout for clues, eavesdropping conversations, trying to work out passwords to log into email accounts.

And slowly but surely I started to lose all sense of perspective - and, so it felt, my mind. I was crying constantly.

I had no patience with my children and was shouting at them at the drop of a hat. I was withdrawing from the people around me. All I could think was ‘Who is she?’ and ‘Why won’t she tell me who she is?’

I went to see a Relate counsellor, to little avail. I felt, what I can only describe as white hot rage, that was slowly consuming me.

And then a little thought crept into my brain – what if I cut myself? I have a history of depression, which has been triggered in the past by specific events, so I know what to expect when I start to slide downhill.

I’ve also read a lot of self-help books and know some techniques to help me nip it in the bud, and sometimes this works.

But I had now reached a point where I knew I couldn’t dig myself out of this black hole alone. I needed help.

All of my immediate family have suffered from and been treated for depression and two of them have self-harmed.

Both times, when I found out, it came as an enormous shock to me. I just couldn’t understand how you could get to that point of desperation.

But suddenly it did make sense. A little bit of physical pain to maybe take away some of the emotional pain I was in. It might just work…

I never got that far to see if it did help ease the pain. With two small children I couldn’t afford to wait to find out.

I didn’t have time for experimentation or self help – I needed a doctor, I needed medication and I needed to break this destructive cycle as soon as was humanly possible.

So, unlike in the past when I may have wallowed somewhat in my despair, this time I sought help fast. I felt embarrassed and pathetic as I cried in front of the doctor, admitting the thoughts I was having.

I felt spaced out for a week whilst the drugs kicked in. And then suddenly I felt more at peace. Once again things had a perspective – I was able to rationalise what I knew to be true and what was imagined.

I had a new-found patience with my children, I reconnected with friends. I was referred to a CBT counsellor, for a series of telephone sessions over a period of months, who encouraged me to look for evidence ‘for’ and ‘against’ what I was thinking, which helped me stay objective.

Changing the way I thought about situations began to change the way I felt.

And now, a year on, things are much better. My partner ended up being off work for nine months and during that time we settled into a new routine. He was able to much more involved with the kids and we made the most of him being at home.

While he was off he also had anger management counselling and worked through a lot of issues himself, coming out the other side wanting to make some really positive changes to how he lives and works, most dramatically by becoming self-employed so he has more flexibility to be around for the children.

I am no longer having counselling but I am still taking medication. I don’t quite feel ready to stop taking it just yet. I’ll know when the time is right, just as I knew when the time was right to ask for help.

Comments

[Concerned but grateful]

The losing sense of perspective thing is really scary. i am shouting at my kids, crying for no reason and checking my husband's mobile. thank you for helping me understand i shouldn't be in denial about needing help.

[Clair]

Thanks for sharing your story, it's brilliant to see that you are so much better and stronger. Sounds like you had so much on your plate and were giving yourself a hard time. Good to read you are so much better.

[Liz (LivingwithKids)]

I'm so glad you were able to get the help you need. Thank you so much for sharing your very personal and ultimately uplifting story, I'm sure it will help others xxx

[al-harris-jersey]

These are all great comments here. Very cool article.

[brandon-jackson-jersey]

it is very lucky to read your blog,thanks

[brett-favre-jersey]

I do agree with you.