I was running away from home from the age of 12 to get away from home life, the authorities charged me with being an ‘uncontrollable child’ instead of looking into the reasons why and made me a ward of the state until I was 16, which meant some short stints in juvenile detention when I ran away. I was never a bad child, just wanted to be loved and feel safe, otherwise I’m sure I would’ve fallen into the life of crime that most other children in the detention centre, and living on the streets were into.
I was never able to keep friends they just came fleeting in and out of my life as I had never learnt how to nurture friendships and this is something I still have problems with to this day.
The years until the late eighties was coping the best I could and trying not to allow my past making me into a person I didn’t want to be. I was running (from myself) for most of these years and learning how to bury all my emotions the best I could, I drank and used marijuana from 18 on as it buried my inhibitions of being very shy and made me feel happy (for a time anyway). I always held a job but never did the things I wanted to do as I didn’t have enough confidence in myself to move forward. I had no trust in men in general as I thought they were all sexually sick, this I worked through over 10 years, but I still believe, that due to man’s sexual make-up, some of them cause children and women a lot emotional dis-ease and sometimes physical abuse.
Things got really bad in 1988 (just as I fell pregnant with my second child) when I had my first major panic attack, which over a couple of weeks lead to regular severe panic attacks, depression and avoidance behaviour as well as being suicidal on several occasions. (I never acted out on these thoughts but it was on my mind constantly, the only thing that stopped me acting these out was how much my children would hate me for doing it and leaving them).
I didn’t realise the long-term consequences of avoiding stressful places and it was not explained to me by medical professionals who just gave me tranquillisers and anti depressants. I was just surviving the best way I could at the time, using avoidance behaviour which set the path to where I am now. At this time mental health was not on the social agenda, so there was not a lot of support around and hard to find good advice, medical staff treated you like you were seeking attention and just needed to ‘pull your socks up’, so socially you were trained to keep a stiff upper lip. I have always made a point of talking about my life with mental health issues to hopefully make more people aware of the issues that people with mental health problems face, and by writing this blog hoping that I can help even one person feel good about themselves and demand the support they need to be mentally healthy.
Getting diagnosed properly took about 10 years partly because GP’s were not well educated in this area and they only followed what was the latest medication on the market and they did not listen to what their patients were telling them, they just assumed they knew. All the doctors I saw treated me for depression causing anxiety and I gave up trying to tell them that it was actually the other way around. I took whatever the doctors subscribed me as it seemed to be a small help, but it did not help the depression or the anxiety, I finally accepted that I would always be this way as there obviously was no help out there for me. I did find and use relaxation and meditation tapes to help me reduce the stress as well as a government psychologist who let me come in and talk for an hour and a half every fortnight and stressed the use of the relaxation tapes.
I lived an ok life but was still dealing with the anxiety and depression and I never felt happy with where my life had taken me or what the rest of my life would be. I had moved to a small regional town where I managed to do most things as there wasn’t many things to do, but still avoided the one large shopping centre if no one was with me and limited social activities to where there was only one or two people.
I did everything I had to for the children like their assemblies and other school events, but always made an excuse not to go to children’s birthdays parties and only dropped them off and picked them up. It wasn’t till they were older that my daughter started realising that she was missing out on things, my son never really realised anything until I told him about it just a few years ago.
In the late nineties I got divorced and moved to another regional town and hit rock bottom, again becoming suicidal, then in 1999 a doctor said what I had known all along, and gave me medication to treat anxiety that caused depression… and it worked like a miracle!! 
Now that I was finally feeling human again I went to college and got my diploma in the welfare field as well as working part time in the field throughout my studies, something I had only dreamed of doing and completing, and then worked in the field for a further 4 years full time. I even took part in lots of social events (well….lots for me, being a hermit at the best of times) but there were still some things I did not do because the fear of panic attacks got the better of me. But I justified it in my own head that I had come leaps and bounds compared to what I could ever have hoped for and I could cope with those few things, so I never learnt how to recover from the anxiety, panic attacks or avoidance.
My daughter had moved away in 2001 and my son left in 2002, they had been a great support to me (even without them knowing it), now I had to depend on myself…which didn’t work so well, as well as dealing with the “empty nest” feelings. I started avoiding more and more places but still managed to keep working and a semblance of a social life, I tried to be the person I had become in the past 5 years, but I wasn’t able to sustain it. I pretended well at work, but once I got home I was a unhappy person, I believed that “fake it till you make it” would help me through….it didn’t work.
I moved to the city to get better job prospects in 2004 and did a total turn in my career and took up my hobby of computers as a career and really enjoyed it. But two years down the track I started menopause, which in turn kicked off my panic attacks again (well, that’s what I believe,) I think that some of the symptoms, before I realised menopause had started, were similar to panic attacks so I obviously just took the obvious choice….panic attacks and retrained myself back into a solitude life in my house and 8 months later was a total housebound agoraphobic.
Since moving to the city I hadn’t really made any close friends, just some acquaintances that gave me room to get well once I went down hill, which wasn’t what I needed, but would probably have done same in their place. So I was alone, but I have always enjoyed my own company so the loneliness was never really an issue, but it would’ve been nice to have some human contact from time to time or someone to drag me of the house occasionally if even for a short drive, it did not help matters any by not calling anyone either.
A great friend who lived out of the city came up for a weekend and made me drive twice daily, and she wouldn’t take no for an answer, as much as I hated her at the time she was a godsend because at least she got me to be able to drive short distances which over a few months grew to around 5km. At first I made myself go out twice a week where I drove around the neighbourhood until the anxiety got too high then came home and extended my drive by one street each week till I got to the 5km mark.
My daughter Chloe lives about 2300km away in a remote area and would get me to do things for her that she didn’t have access to occasionally, I knew she was asking me mainly to get me out but I didn’t like to let her down, so I did them, at times calling her to talk me through the really rough times. She also comes home a couple of times a year which is a great support and I went with her to some places. Lately she has been coming home regularly for her work and I have gone to lunch with her a few times and she is getting transferred back to the city in a few months.
My son Rory moved back home Christmas 2006 and I was really looking forward to the company and having him back home. With the way I was feeling I found having a teenage boy very stressful at first and we both had lots of readjusting to do, but I think we have a routine going now.
When he first got here I drove him to his interviews and appointments, at first it was very difficult driving out of the neighbourhood but each time it got a bit easier. He then needed to get dropped of at places which totally scared me, because I had to drive home alone, but I managed that as well after a while. He is now working 10km away which he rides everyday, but I pick him occasionally if needed. I am looking forward to him getting his own car so I don’t have to be his taxi driver though I know it was a blessing in disguise that he didn’t have one, to make me get out of the house.
My city doctor was next to useless when it came to ‘real’ problems and I was in no state to find a new one, and again I was wrongly medicated against all my attempted arguments (I really didn’t have the energy to argue) of what I new of my condition and history. After 6 months on the waiting list I am finally seeing a government psychologist and have an appointment with a psychiatrist to evaluate my medication.
I have finally changed doctors, well pushed to actually, as he kicked me out of his office for asking question regarding my gallstones, he said only doctors understood (I told you he was useless!) So I now see a great doctor who is keen to help me
I don’t want to only tell of my darkest times but would also like to share my most precious moments:
- Childhood times with my brother
- Two beautiful sisters coming into this world, and teaching me unconditional love
- My two children being born, and bringing joy and laughter (and challenges…) with them and I feel privileged to love and support them through their journey of life
- Meeting (and more importantly - keeping) my only life long friend who I have shared the best and the worst in life with.
- My paternal father who visited from overseas that I had not seen since I was 6 months old, it was great to finally know where I fitted in and where some of my traits came from that no one else in my family had, it was the most wonderful few weeks
- The special long-term friendships I have made throughout the years
- Meeting/getting back in touch with relations that I had not seen/spoken to, since I came to Australia and having that wonderful thing – the extended family – that so many immigrants and their children do not experience.
Thank you, to all of you that have given me these precious moments.
Ruby
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