Another thing no one warned me about post stroke was the fact that I would feel like I had completely and utterly lost the plot.
Now, I'm not blowing my own trumpet, but I have many years of training centred around mental health under my belt-*Toot Toot* - it's something I am extremely interested in and passionate about. So when I felt my anxiety levels rising and saw the change in my character I knew immediately I needed to acknowledge it and do something to help myself. So I began with the basics, breathing exercises, grounding myself, distraction techniques that kept my hands and mind occupied, journaling, talking about the way I felt to Lee and to my GPs, all the things that I would advise a young person to do if they were to come to me and say they felt anxious. But it didn't help me in the slightest.
I was so angry and so sad, all the time. I would lie awake at night worrying about every aspect of life that I could possibly worry about; from money and the lack there of when my sick pay stopped to the deep set fear that Lee would hate being stuck with someone who was younger than him but had the physical health of a 80 year old! It didn't even let up when I was finally able to get to sleep, I'd have nightmares that would trigger panic attacks, worse than I have ever known before. I remember vividly one night waking up and feeling the familiar feeling of panic and fear creeping up on me, normally at that point I would get up and have a walk to the bathroom and distract myself by washing my face, but this time I couldn't get up. I felt as though someone was holding me down and I was pinned to the bed. This triggered a deeper level of panic than ever before. All I wanted to do was wake Lee up and ask him to hold me and I couldn't. I would not wish that feeling on my worse enemy.
I finally admitted defeat and spoke to my GP and was initially told "you've had a life changing thing happen this is to be expected." I persisted with contacting my Doctors and spoke to an amazing female doctor who was so understanding and compassionate. She spoke to me in such a kind tone that I almost cried. She put me on 50mg of sertraline which over time increased to the 200mg I'm on today.
Sertraline can have some major side effects which I'm told are extremely unpleasant. Fortunately though, I didn't experience anything too rough apart from some nausea and sleepless nights, which by then I was used to anyway.
One thing that really shocked me was the lack of acknowledgement my mental health got when I applied for PIP (Personal Independence Payment) through the Department for Work and Pensions. Something that was so huge and life altering for me was so insignificant to them.
I have recently sent a change of circumstance letter to them detailing the worsening of my mental health, because for me, it's important that it is acknowledged, not for the money but for the principle.
Don't get me wrong now, I understand one hundred percent why I'm depressed. I'm not blind to the fact that I have gone from one type of person to another. But I don't think I will ever accept it fully.
I really wish there had been someone to forewarn me about how bad it could get, it wouldn't have changed anything but I would maybe have been prepared for it.
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