“Rather than talking about it, ignoring it seemed easier.”

The first time I visited my GP regarding my mental health, it revealed a very unnerving thought. The GP knew my dad as a patient, and jokingly said, “Well you’ve not got much hope really, have you?” I laughed along, however the thought stuck with me. Due to a genetic susceptibility to mental illness, do I just accept that I have a chemical imbalance and require medication to fix that? From early adolescence, I believed this to be the case- that I needed antidepressants to feel somewhat ‘normal’.

I was prescribed (very easily) a whole range of antidepressants, anti-anxiety medications, all to the same effect, over the course of several years. I realised that the suicidal thoughts were still there, I was still regularly trying to overdose on over-the-counter medications (sometimes even the antidepressants that I had just been given), still crying uncontrollably and on top of this, feeling nauseous, agitated, and fatigued. This meant that I needed to consider whether a simple ‘chemical imbalance’ was enough to explain why I felt like not existing anymore was my most viable option.

My very first boyfriend cheated on me with my best friend when I was around 15. I’d like to say behind my back, but there was a time I was asleep in the same room (in my own house) when they decided to ‘cuddle’ and God knows what else. At the time, I would do anything to keep relationships in place because I felt like I needed people and wouldn’t be able to form bonds with anyone different, so unsurprisingly, both were forgiven, and life carried on. I continued to surround myself with similar people, expecting a different result.

I developed over the years defence mechanisms that, at the same time as defending my emotions, were also damaging them in the long run. I would have long silences with people because I struggled to hide that I wasn’t feeling great. Rather than talking about it, ignoring it seemed easier.

I would decide at the drop of a penny that someone wasn’t worth my time anymore and that they were a ‘bad person’. It was easier for me to reject everyone than to allow people into my life. I noticed a pattern of toxic relationships during my teenage years and beyond, and because all my relationships tended to be intense, the toxicity was that more potent.

Opening up to these people was a mistake, as I recall an ex-partner deciding to share a letter that I had written to him at a house party with several of our shared friends attending. This letter was personal and was intended as a way for him to try and understand me more, so that being with me wasn’t so difficult. Instead from what I understand, it seemed to have been used as a form of entertainment.

My insecurity and low self-esteem most likely attracted the type of people that are willing to take advantage of other people’s weaknesses. It seemed that not only did I have a genetic disposition towards mental health issues, but I also had social relationships that were damaging along with a complicated family situation.

I knew that the medication alone wasn’t doing anything, so decided to try counselling. As it turns out, seeking help through the NHS is basically only helpful if you think you might need counselling in a year’s time. I tried private counselling with a clinical psychologist and although I could see the potential for this helping me, I decided I had already self-diagnosed myself and anything I told the psychologist would just be me feeding the information that would confirm this diagnosis, therefore making it inaccurate. I then decided that there was nothing wrong with me, and that it was the rest of the world with the problem. This outlook wasn’t great either, it meant that I was constantly angry with how others behaved, I was entirely incapable of optimism, and I isolated myself from others as it was easier to cut ties with them first before they could do the same to me.

Eventually, I met someone that at least attempted to understand me. I have since accepted that sometimes, you may never be fully understood, however it’s the people that try to that are worth your time. Instead of just saying ‘oh she’s in a mood again for no reason’, I feel that my ‘moods’ are acknowledged and accepted.

Mental health issues are complex, and person specific. Not all people will have the same experiences or the same symptoms. Finding others who are capable of empathy and attempting to understand our thought processes can act as a huge protector against mental health issues taking a hold of our lives.

Even though I still deal with many of these problems, I can at least find comfort in the fact that others are capable of understanding to a certain degree. They may have similar experiences or emotions which means I am not alone in the struggle, and not everyone is an asshole.