Day Two – My Story: Part 2 

Revelation 12:11 – And they have defeated him by the blood of the Lamb and by their testimony. 

Hello and welcome back to part two of Saying Goodbye to Stigma: Opening up a healthy conversation around mental health. Yesterday we began to explore my story and experience with mental health and illness.  

Let’s continue…

After being diagnosed with Depression and given medication, I felt defeated and relieved all at once. I had allowed my emotions to get the better of me to the point of needing medical intervention. This felt like a personal failure, but also, the hope of feeling better gave me a sense of relief.  

I tried the medication I was given, and it did not suit me. I was anxious, nervous and hyper-vigilant in every interaction I had with everyone. This was not the medicine for me. I went back to the doctor, and he prescribed a different medicine.  

Thankfully, this one was much more ‘me’ and not only did I begin to feel slightly better, but I also felt able to continue with my studies.  

All The Difference

Fast forward to 2006 – my third year of higher education – where I became a Christian. It is here that I truly believe my healing began. Although it didn’t take the route that I anticipated… 

Fast forward again to 2011, 5 years after graduating from Drama School, I had moved back to Cardiff to plant a church in the city centre with a team of 5 other people. I had been on my medication ever since finding ‘my fit’ and life was good. 

However, one weekend I got to Friday evening and realised that I had not renewed my prescription ready for the next day. I went 3 days without medicine and felt fine.  

For those of you who may have walked a similar journey, you will know that 3 days is not a satisfactory nor wise time frame to begin assessing the effects of coming off powerful medicines such as the one that I was prescribed.  

I decided not to renew my prescription and – cold turkey – stopped taking my medication. The following 2 months or so proved to be a steady decline into depression and deep emotional and mental distress.  

I called my dad and confessed that I was ill, feeling incredibly stressed, tearful and constantly anxious. He drove to Cardiff and collected me from the team house and took me home with him and my stepmum.  

Troubled and Tormented

That night, I was unable to sleep. I was tormented by anxiety, depression and tears and generally felt at the end of my rope. My dad and stepmum took me to the local Accident and Emergency room and I was given something to help me calm down and sleep with the promise of a nurse’s visit in the morning.  

The nurse did visit me the next day and decided that I was fine, just a little dramatic. 

My stepmum stepped in and fought for the nurse to take me seriously (which, thankfully, she did) and I was admitted to a psychiatric unit for 2 weeks.  

During my stay in hospital, I was monitored carefully. 

My symptoms had started to present differently in this time of my life. I was manic at times – not in the eyes rolling/racing around kind of way that television and film would have you believe of a mentally ill person. My illness was presenting more as me flitting from one activity to another, full of ideas, not sleeping or eating. I would then spend various periods of time sad and tearful and unable to be consoled.  

I would love to tell you that this is where the chaos and confusion ends, that I received a neat and tidy solution from the professionals. Sadly, this is not the case.  

Read on tomorrow for the final part of my testimony.