MrM

Every relationship I’d had failed, looking back I know it was because they couldn’t truly take me on board and accept me for me, whether it be good or bad. That was until I met MrM, At a time when I probably should not have been with anyone and concentrating on myself I met him and that was it!
So early on in our relationship, like I mean a month, how much he cared for me was being tested already, having to take me to a mental hospital for an evaluation. I was finding it harder and harder to think rationally and a failed attempt at trying to be on anti-depressants and an adverse violent reaction had left me so afraid of having to be on medication. He held my hand, I understood when I was freaking out waiting wanting a cigarette so bad (I had forgotten them Arghhh) He went and got a packet, he rubbed my shoulders and he was waiting for me when I was finished. One would think it’d be the end of our new fresh love, that he would run for the hills like many others had, for all the faith I didn’t have he wanted me and he wanted to love me.

Unfortunately it wasn’t as easy as that, because I stupidly refused to go on medication when I should have, I just told myself I could push through. I was working for MrM doing the books and office side of his distribution business he was running when I had met him. This isn’t where the locking myself away started, but it did become me again, to stay behind closed doors choosing solidarity over a social life and existing out there in the real world. As it had before, it came down to me leaving the house only if I REALLY had to, making MrM do everything and having that lead to, losing the ability to even be able to make a phone call for myself. I could call family & friends but if I had to ring to make an appointment etc, well then the only thing I felt at those times was shear panic. Powerless to controlling the waves of nausea, gaining control of my breath and feeling like I don’t have an elephant sitting on my chest unable to stop my body from tensing up to extremes and incapable of stopping my hand from grabbing at my arm, squeezing and gripping on. For 80% of my panic attacks the result would be that last part there and I am unable to pull my hand away from my arm, it is like I’ve got a death grip on myself and even when I have got everything in check I still can’t free my hand from my arm, which as you can imagine makes for a very hard situation when I am home alone.

I have not experienced this symptom for about a year and a half now, but varied versions pop up when I am stressed or over anxious, I will scratch at one spot on my arm non-stop or rub at one spot in what would appear to be a bit of an obsessed manner.

It may be inspirational to some these next words…. I live now, without medication…
But my opinion is what should be inspirational is the journey I’ve gone through to be able to live without medication. Yes there was a time they had me all zombie’d out on very strong tablets for both depression and the anxiety and panic, but because I wanted that day of living freely, mentally happy and not on medication I was able to achieve it. That doesn’t make me perfect, cause no one is, I have bad days and I still have some anxiety I live with eg; I can only handle a shopping centre for about maximum 2 hours before the anxious feelings want to start kicking in and if I can’t or don’t fight it well then the unimaginable happens, I have a panic attack that is fuelled by an even stronger petrol of the ‘this is so not happening to me in public’ part…
I do still at times have unpredictable moods and find it hard to make plans, I had what felt like a lifetime of not living and as much as I enjoy socializing now, sometimes a deep set fears will still rise and bring forth anxiety and me not being able to…

Anyway back to the original point here, the wonderful man who loved me, wanted me better and would do anything for that to happen. Moved us nearer to my family with me feeling at that time in my life it was what I needed and some other reasons too. It wasn’t to be, to gain being closer to my father, when a lost little girl really needed her daddy he turned against me in some degrees and MrM was left with the burden of me.
I felt no purpose in my life, having been with MrM for a few years at this stage we talked and decided to have a baby this decision made me feel so much happier within myself, after years of not working and especially not out of the home, I felt empty and bored and I knew this would be the answer, my answer
How wrong I was…

And to come next more on just why….