This post might include triggering content, so read on at your own discretion!
In today’s post, I’ll be sharing the story of when I realised that I needed help because my mental health had declined rapidly.
I was around 18 years old when my mental health started to decline. I can’t remember all the events in my life that lead to this point, but they were things that I had never dealt with.
I was in college at the time, and I had began to struggle. It became noticeable to others around me, but not to myself.
I also remember a few incidents that set off social anxiety within me. I was walking home and people got really nasty towards me. They were mocking my appearance, it really got to me.
What sealed this for me was an occasion on the bus service that the college run. It was always hard to find seats. One day in particular, I heard someone mention there was an empty seat. So I walked over, and sat in there.
It turned out they did it to mock their friend, who was sat on their own, and then they began mocking me. I sat for the rest of the journey feeling deflated. When the bus stopped at the college, the person barged past me.
I couldn’t get on the college bus after that point. Anxiety pangs would overcome me if I even thought about it. So, I started using my lunch money to get on the public bus system, but even that got too much for me. What if people on there would say something negative towards me?
Eventually, I just stopped going to college. I’d wait until my mum went to work. Then I’d call in sick. I couldn’t face it. So I’d just do my work at home, and pop it in as close to the deadline as possible.
After a while, I even gave up on that. I would wait until my mum left, and just go back to bed. Then pretend that I’d come home early. It worked for a while, but my mother would inevitably realise I wasn’t going.
My self-resentment grew each day I couldn’t force myself to leave my house. I began cutting myself, I began drinking, a lot, I spent all my time crying.
I was finally caught out when my mother waited at my Nan’s flat, who lived down the road form the house, and watched me walk back home.
When I was confronted, I broke down. I couldn’t even form a coherent sentence. I was just sobbed, eventually I was able to tell her what was going on.
It was at this stage, I realised that I had fallen into such a pit of depression, and anxiety, that I was in dire need of help, or I was going to wind up committing suicide.
My mother had already contacted my uncle, and made a doctors appointment for me, and that was the start of the mental health journey that I’ve been for the entirety of my adult life.
I hope this story wasn’t too triggering. I’m sharing it in hopes that, at least, one person realised that they are not alone, and this happens to many people.
Your time is appreciated! If you have any feedback, or if you notice any errors, feel free to contact me!