So today was World mental health day. It seems a shame that so many people only feel able to speak out about mental health on one day of the year. (Speaking of days of the year, is every day assigned to something? Last week was National boyfriend appreciation day, I'm sure it was sibling or twin appreciation day not long ago, and I'm forever seeing an image pop up on facebook repeatedly through the year saying next week its short girl appreciation day)
So many people are affected by mental health. CF seems to lend itself to throwing us at the mercy of mental issues too, cos everything else wasn't enough, was it?! I know quite a few people on antidepressants because they've had the harsh reality of CF thrown at them, sometimes suddenly, sometimes at a young age, sometimes it creeps up very slowly. However it was, things can add up until you have to speak to someone and sometimes the result is to go on antidepressants. They're not for everyone, but for some, they work.
Its not just depression people with CF suffer from. Some have eating disorders or body dysmorphia (not surprising when you spend your entire life underweight, seeing yourself as a healthy weight can be a big adjustment) and others anxiety. Which leads me to my point. Something close friends and family know about, but I don't think I've touched on it much here - not hard considering how much I neglect this blog!
I used to think that I was fine, mentally. I knew the reality of CF, I lost friends to CF, but never noticed that it affected me too much to the point where I had to ask for help. Randomly, two years ago, I started to worry excessively. I don't know what triggered it, as I think I generally worry anyway, but it got worse after this. John went to a midnight screening of the new Star Wars movie, and left me a text that I'd see when I woke up to say he went - he couldn't decide before I went to sleep as it was a 3am screening and wondered if it was too late/early in the morning.
I woke up about 6am, bizarre for me, but I was starving. I immediately noticed John wasn't there, saw the text and noticed the time. I tried to work out how long the film was, remembered when it started and accounted for previews and the 30 minute drive back home. I made myself toast and couldn't eat it, I was worrying like mad cos it felt like it had been a long time and he wasn't back, and hadn't replied to my text (turns out a, it hadn't been long in the time that I'd sent the text and b, he was driving at the time). I sat on the stairs and waited, and sent another text. He came home after about an hour or two after I woke up, and I immediately got angry and then utterly distraught crying about how I didn't know where he was and he took so long to get home - turns out his friend needed to go to asda and took ages which explained why it took so long for them to get home. He didn't think to text when the movie ended as he thought he'd be home before I woke up.
I got worse after that, worrying if he was late home from work - as he walks home - and I'd start thinking all sorts had happened. I eventually asked a CF nurse if it was normal to worry like that, and she brought me one of those annoying depression test sheets. I scored high enough that the nurse had a chat with me and asked if I wanted to see the CF psychologist.
I saw her every few weeks for months, I'm not sure if her CBT helped or not, because I don't think we seemed to even cover much. It was mostly just stuff like telling yourself to check the time between sending a text and worrying, and being logical rather than immediately jumping to the worst possible outcome. However, upon describing pretty much two identical situations at the beginning and end of my sessions with her, she told me the first time, that my reaction wasn't logical and that I needed to stop thinking that way. The second time, she said 'oh we all worry a bit like that'. That left me confused.
Since the hemo in June, and the one off occurrence last month, I find myself worrying a lot about it ever happening again. I imagine its probably common after going through the situation, it was pretty horrific. I'd be amazed at anyone who can cough up pure bright red blood for two whole days and just walk off, not bothered at all. I worry if I cough a lot (helpful when you have a lung disease and cough all day, especially when you need IVs - which I'm getting tomorrow) I worry if I lift something heavier than normal, I worry if I push myself a bit further with exercise. Every time I cough crap up I have to make sure there isn't a speck of blood in it. I barely let myself cough for about a week or two when I came home in June, not helped with the fact that I coughed up old blood for about a week or two after. And after the one off last month, I worried constantly even though there was no need. I've tried telling myself, "you've had a massive coughing fit every day and you're fine, stop worrying. You did exercise two days ago and are still fine. You did lung function and nothing happened, thats good." But I still worry. I think I need to ask to see the psychologist again, because when you worry out of nowhere, it takes over your life.
We went to the cinema the other week, and the thought kept coming across my mind, mid movie. I couldn't enjoy an entire frigging movie without the stupid anxiety just poking its beak in. So if seeing the psychologist helps, then I'm all for it.
I wonder if life would be easier if I knew what caused the hemo, but none of us do. It happened in the middle of the night so must have been delayed from something, although I do know I had a busy day that day and maybe over did it, coupled with it being warm, hay fever, and a dry cough that somehow feels so much worse than a chesty one.
Although if I did know the cause I'd never let myself do that again and maybe that's not any better.
Tuesday, 10 October 2017
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