Posted 10/28/2010 8:11 AM (GMT 0)
Hi all,
So my story is kind of a long one, and I'm not sure of exactly what I'm looking for -- advice, commiseration, similar stories, anything really.
I grew up as a pretty normal kid, I guess. My family had its issues, but was always pretty supportive and loving. My parents are both mentally healthy, and have raised all four of their children really well. Despite this, all four of us have had issues with mental illness. My own issues probably started around the time I was 10 or 11. My eldest brother went through a really rough time with drug addiction and he moved back in with my parents. Living with him was tough, and I didn't really understand what was going on, or why he had changed. Mom and Dad were always stressed, and it frightened me to see them like that. I had always made good grades, and so I started focusing all my attention on being a really good kid, so that Mom and Dad would never have to worry about me.
I went through high school at the top of my class, straight As. I never hung out with the wrong people, never behaved poorly, and was involved in all sorts of extracurriculars and sports. I went to university on a large scholarship and won all sorts of prizes at my graduation. I had (and still have -- we are engaged now and he my rock, I love him so much) a wonderful boyfriend who was also a very good kid, good marks, very nice and sweet.
First year university went okay. I made lots of friends, but never took any time for myself. I did nothing but study. I would sleep just a few hours a night. I made A+ in everything, had a perfect GPA, and ranked 1st in my faculty. I was exhausted, but it felt great to have done so well. In second year, I tried to do the same thing, only the workload had become heavier and more complex, and I was no longer able to sustain such habits. I believed that if I did not, I would fail at everything, and that my life would be ruined. I started having these attacks -- which I later learned were panic attacks -- where I could not breathe or see correctly, would hyperventilate, and often vomit (from not being able to breathe). I stopped sleeping and I stopped eating. Eventually I collapsed. My exams were all deferred and I went home to rest for several weeks. I began counseling and was prescribed ativan for my attacks. My doctor tried me on Effexor and I reacted very badly. She tried to convince me to try other meds, that it was a process, but I refused. I made it through the rest of second year, still panicking, still not great, but I made it through.
Third year started off well. I was out of residence and living in an apartment with my very close friends (who have been amazing through all of this, and are amazing even now; real life angels if there ever were). I made it through first semester alright, but began panicking and having issues with sleeping and eating again at the end of the semester. I had one examined deferred and went back determined to make it through the next semester. But soon I fell into this funk. I was having attacks all the time again, and eventually just became so tired that I did not want to get out of bed. I became very depressed, and I started thinking about suicide. Finally, my thoughts scared me enough that I reached out and sought help. My counselor was great through all of this, and I was put on celexa, which really began to help (I am on it still). I made it through third year, with A+ in everything again, just like the first two years, and decided that I needed to keep working on my mental health issues. I wanted to overcome them so that they never stood in my way again.
Fourth year went great. I kept seeing a counselor, stayed on the celexa, and started on trazadone to help with sleep related anxiety. I wrote an undergraduate thesis (in History) and loved it. I blossomed a lot as a person. For the first time in a while I was a wellsprinf of creativity. I start drawing again, was writing poetry like mad, and for the first time, was making excellent marks but not destroying myself over them. The year ended well. I convocated at the top of my class, and was accepted into grad school with a full scholarship.
Grad school. That's where my current issues started. I moved over 2000kms away from home to do a Masters in History. That is where I am as a sit typing this. My fiance' came with me, we got a nice apartment, and with my large student stipend were doing well for ourselves. The first month here went okay. The workload was far heavier than anything I experienced in undergrad, but I was managing and making As. I was also TAing, and I loved it so much! But I was (and am) horribly homesick. The school I went to for my undergrad was an hour away from my hometown, and moving this far is so different from that. I would cry myself to sleep sometimes wishing that I could be snuggling my dog, or at home for the weekend. Then, in the second month -- this current month -- the big assignments started. I began to work on them, but started having panic attacks every time I would go to work on them. I was so afraid that I wouldn't do them properly and that I would fail and humiliate myself. Everything that I thought I had dealt with in my undergrad came back. I started having suicidal thoughts again, and wanted to leave grad school so badly. Well, part of me did; the other part wanted, and still wants to, stay and complete the program. I love how it challenges me intellectually, and I really do love learning!
It recently got to the point where I realized that I would not be able to complete the semester. I stopped eating and sleeping again. I tried drinking meal replacement shakes, but I would just throw them up. Not even gravol helped. The sight of food was making me gag, and every time I would fall asleep I would have horrible nightmares and wake right back up.
I came to the decision to withdraw and approached the head of the department. I did not tell him why. I told him that I felt like grad school was not for me, and that I wanted to pursue other things (this is partly true -- I quickly realized that one of the reasons I had come to grad school was that I felt as if I was expected to, both my myself and others, because I was smart; I had originally wanted to pursue a BEd but changed my mind). He said he would see what he could do, but was very displeased with and disappointed in me. The next day he informed me that I would only be able to withdraw with drop-fails for the courses I was enrolled in and should thus continue the semester. I lost it. I had a huge a panic attack and did not know what to do. I was very ill, too, because of my inability to sleep or eat. I confessed to my fiance' that I was having suicidal thoughts again, and he convinced me to seek immediate medical attention.
The ball is rolling again, and I am seeing counselors, doctors and therapists at this point to help me deal with my issues. I finally came clean with the department head and explained the real situation to him. I am now being withdrawn from my program in good standing, which essentially strikes the courses I was in from my transcript and leaves it so that I can return to the program if I ever want to (at this point, though, I want to take a few years off from academic studies of any kind and get myself sorted out). Now that he knows that I'm not just some lazy skeeze, he's being very helpful and I appreciate that so much. He's made it so that I can keep my TAship this term, which helps me out financially, so that is a positive.
But at this point, I feel so lost. I am so far from home, in a place very different from my hometown, and now have no steady means of covering my rent after my TAship ends in December. My parents are amazing, and being incredibly supportive, but I feel so ashamed to be accepting financial help from them , especially since my academic funding was actually supposed to allow me to pay my tuition and living expenses, and bank a lot of money as well. I am so frightened to ever have to approach my undergraduate thesis adviser for a reference again. I know he will be so disappointed in me, and this kills me, since I really respect him as a person and as a mentor, and because he supported me when I was having anxiety issues in my undergrad. I have my TAship until December, and then Mom and Dad want me to come home for the holidays. Then I am coming back here to look for a job that will bring in enough money to pay the rent until my lease ends in July 2011.
Most of my friends who I graduated with are currently working low-paying jobs, broke, and figuring out where to go next in their lives. I know this is totally normal for us 20somethings. But in the academe it just always feels like if you end up doing that you're worthless -- like you should have been smart enough for the next linear step but weren't. I am so scared that I won't find a job, and that my parents will have to support me for the next while. They are cool with that, and keep telling me not to worry, but I hate the thought of that! I have caused them so much worry, and I just don't want to burden them in any other way.
I'm also so depressed. Suddenly I have nothing to do. I went from being run off my feet all the time, to laying sleepless in bed with nothing to do all day and night. I am still having panic attacks, though less frequent, as they usually seem to be triggered by the actual act of schoolwork. It's over 2 months before I can go home for Christmas, and I just feel like I'll never make it until then. I'm afraid that I just go totally crazy and end up in a psych ward for the rest of my life! I feel such regret for putting everyone in my life through this -- my fiance', my family, my friends, the people who have to work to get me withdrawn from my program. I hate causing problems for people around me, and then this results in so much anxiety that I end up causing problems anyway.
Today I drank 2 glasses of milk, ate four crackers with cheese, and a tiny plate of french fries, and that feels like a huge victory -- and that it feels that way also makes me feel incredibly pathetic.
So, any tips for getting through this part of my life? For eating when the thought of food makes my stomach roll? For facing the job market with just a BA (and in History of all useless things), and in a place I don't know? I need to eat, I know that. My mood would probably be helped so much by that, but it is so hard! It feels like this is the end of everything good in my life.
Love and Thanks in Advance,
Eliot