I’ve started reading this twice today, now read all the way through. It started really with the first lockdown, my initial thought was ‘good, nobody else can go out now, so they’re like me’ I’d started being anxious about going out a little while before and I didn’t think it was odd to think that. I got worse, just sat in my chair, didn’t drive anywhere, everything was hard, cooking a meal, even having a shower or bath - I did these things but I had to build up to it. To précis when I woke up one morning thinking about driving my car into a bridge I contacted my GP. She rang and listened whist I bawled my eyes out, my husband was with me, we were out for a walk, I would only go if he was with me. She was brilliant, prescribed a beta blocker for the anxiety, but just talking to her was a first step. My husband knew there was something wrong, but was floundering with what to do. I enrolled in a course of CBT (zoom) with a lovely counsellor over three months, privately funded. Very slowly I’ve improved, I still have the odd hour here and then, I take the pills as and when and looking back that very dark place still horrifies me. My husband, who has been so supportive, the couple of friends I have told, an understanding GP and my own effort has got me here. I still have health anxiety, maybe I always will, I still check my pulse 20 times a day (my OCD remnant) but 10 months later I’m hugely better. As a successful career woman, mother, grandma, friend and wife I had breezed through life with little understand or regard of mental health. I’ve learnt, I hope I’m a better listener, I hope I ask are you ok until I’m sure.
Phew, that was tough telling you.