#WorldMentalHealthDay2017 Video

I created this video for #WorldMentalHealthDay2017

I wanted to add it to my blog as I believe the content is relevant and belongs here too!

My daughter and I are currently vlogging daily so if you like YouTube or just want to support us our channel is

The Wilkes Family

Permanency and ill health retirement. Or Not!!

So the time is ticking by and I am getting somewhat twitchy about a few things.

Supportive people can explain the logistics will work, federation reps can promise that things 'should' go smoothly but when it is your life, your finances, your grocery shopping in jeopardy, going onto half pay seems to be all the more daunting.

Since August I have visited our new force medical officer, the occupational health doctor and she has made it clear to me that she thinks it is highly unlikely that with my various medical complaints I will ever be fit to do my job as a police officer ever again.

I have chronic debilitating Fibromyalgia with no known cure, I have PTSD, I suffer with Depression, I struggle with Anxiety and I have two prolapsed discs, but she feels after nine months off sick that it is too early to ask any questions of my force about ill health retirement as she says the application would fail at this juncture as we have not exhausted all possible medical remedies/cures.
She says we might be ready in 6-9 months time.

They all say I have to prove 'permanency' , that my illnesses cannot be cured, that I will not be magically restored to full health to serve out my last 2 years of my 30 years service.

What a complete joke this system of ours currently is!

Show me the hoops and I will jump through them all, I will moan and groan, I will post on twitter how dissatisfied I am, but I will do whatever you ask of me to establish the facts to satisfy you, but when you do not specify the hoops, when you leave me in what has been described as a 'fluid' situation what the hell am I meant to do?
It's like playing hide and seek in the dark, whilst blindfolded, with your hands and feet tied.

It is so flipping riling!

I am suffering with an illness that induces me to suffer extreme pain when I get stressed or tired!!

I wonder what they think in their ivory admin towers, Oh I know let's take away half of her pay, tell her that in another 6 months we will stop paying her altogether and then make any escape from our employment as improbable to conquer as reaching the summit of Everest alive! GRRR

To what end? Whom does it serve? I gather the government because they fine any police force that let's an officer retire on ill health! Or should I say Theresa May? Of course it's all chuffing marvellous for a single parent, crippled with a variety of ills who simply cannot work anymore.

It seems like the only person who could start sorting the mess out is me, but I'm a shell of my former self and the mere idea of fighting my own corner seems horrifying. Should I be paying out of my half wage to visit pompous over priced 'experts' to prove my 'permanency'? I could I guess but then I wouldn't be able to pay the utilities and I'd have to rely on a food bank.

Ultimately I am told it will be just one person, an SMP, Selected Medical Practitioner, who gets to decide if my woes add up to permanency and early release! Not a panel, not a jury just one solitary  person. I'd stand more chance of release if I'd murdered someone!

There is a set order of procedure and before any decision can be made the police authority must put specific questions to this medical practitioner selected by them (the ‘selected medical practitioner’) to determine whether I am permanently disabled for ‘the performance of the ordinary duties of a member of the police force’. The selected medical practitioner will consider such issues as my ability to:

• run, walk reasonable distances, and stand for reasonable periods;
• exercise reasonable physical force in restraint and retention in custody;
• sit for reasonable periods, to write, read, use the telephone and to use (or learn to use) IT;
• make decisions and report situations to others;
• evaluate information and to record details;
• understand, retain and explain facts and procedures.

Even if I'm assessed as permanently disabled for the performance of the ordinary duties, it does not automatically mean that I will be retired on ill-health grounds.  The police authority will consider my specific disabilities and overall capabilities to see whether there are alternative duties which I could undertake whilst remaining a police officer!

If and it seems like a big IF I was found by the selected medical practitioner to be permanently disabled for ordinary duties and there were no suitable alternative duties that I could undertake the police authority 'may' decide whether to retire me or not!

At the very least it's all so frustrating, at the worst it borders on being downright inept, exceptionally stressful and seemingly unfair.

Just let me go, please. Pretty please?

I'm broken, I'm a recluse and I'm soon to be broke!

Cut me loose, I want some sort of life back that isn't governed by stress and pain.

SIGNED -  A broken. chewed up, mangled mess of a former police officer.

Fibromyalgia...a disability?

Yesterday as a partially tongue in cheek gesture I applied to the local council for a disabled parking badge. I was thinking they would turn me down as I've rarely encountered too many people that take Fibromyalgia particularly seriously.

I did explain that physical exertion has a knock on effect on my health. Too much walking, enhances the fatigue, makes my muscle spasms kick up a gear leaving my joints really painful. I become dizzy and my headache starts to turn from just that into a migraine whereby light becomes an issue as does noise. All in all too much of anything much leaves me feeling like I've been run over by a bulldozer whilst suffering from a bad bout of the flu.

In any case most of these symptoms are invisible much like the proverbial duck. So I can appear to look completely normal but my pain and anguish like the paddling ducks feet beneath the waves is invisible. Unless I decide to whinge or give voice to the variety of issues troubling me you should never know I'm poorly. I do limp from time to time, I do struggle with bending and flexibility but you'll just put that down to me being overweight.

The trouble with Fibromyalgia is the fact that it has such an impact on every part of me, if I were to answer the 'how are you?' question people would be collecting their pensions before I'd listed all my issues!!

Headaches, like actually a sore head like I've banged it somewhere! Unless I'm super stressed or very tired and then it'll turn ugly and become very migraine like. Tunnel vision, light aversion, feeling sick.

Eyes, dry and scratchy like having an eye infection.

Throat, often sore like having a throat infection but this comes and goes as it sees fit!

Ears, repetitive and/or loud noises trigger a panic type response to the point I get very agitated and need to escape.

Neck, stiff like I've cricked it badly and have lost some mobility for the time being and it's just noticeably sore and achy.

Shoulders/Knees/Hips etc. these joints seize up and therefore my mobility varies from time to time and from stress level to stress level.

Heart, have palpitations and a racing heart but this tends to be linked to my anxiety levels mostly.

Back, I also have two prolapsed discs so I already had constant back pain so this is just exacerbated by the mobility issues caused by the Fibromyalgia

Bowels, Varies between IBS type symptoms and constipation until you bleed!

Bladder, difficulty weeing, the fibrofog causes the connection between brain and bladder to be very obstructed so even when desperate it can take a while to convince my body to start a flow!

Fibrofog, people suffering with Fibromyalgia have brain fog, where cognitive ability is significantly reduced, thinking becomes hampered and it is literally like the thought processes are fogged up and unresponsive. This is definitely me, I am the shadow of my former self.

Hot flushes, I literally melt on the spot on a regular basis, clothes soaked through, sweat dripping off me like I'm a navy (yes I have had the menopause tests)

and that's all before I have a panic attack, get depressed or my PTSD has an impact!

So you can see that although I have many issues they're not instantly obvious to anyone like a broken arm would be!

Anyway back to the disabled badge. I have been struggling with too much physical exertion making me feel utterly rubbish, well more rubbish than my baseline rubbish feeling, and baby bear tongue in cheek to me said, "you should be able to park in the disabled bays!"

Whilst I was busy explaining to her that I wasn't disabled I got around to thinking..

'what is disabled?'

The definition, (I looked it up), is 'having a physical or mental condition that limits their movements, senses, or activities'

On reading that I found myself admitting that I might actually fall into this definition!

But how could I be classed as disabled? Me the police officer? Albeit only in name these days, ten months into a sickness absence.

It was whilst toying around with these thoughts that I looked up the criteria for a disabled parking badge. Initially all I could see were the requirements to be in receipt of various disability benefits and I very nearly clicked away from the web page in defeat when I saw Fibromyalgia listed under one of the qualifying disabilities! So I am disabled I thought!

I completed the on line form quite hastily before I changed my mind. Clicking the send button on completion of the form I muttered under my breath something about never seeing that again or being turned down flat and I moved on with my day.
Literally two hours later I had an email telling me I had been accepted for the scheme and asking for a photo and a registration fee! To say I was gobsmacked would be an understatement!

I'm still not sure how I feel about this revelation, I'm torn in differing directions, pleased to be acknowledged that someone actually gets how tough Fibro makes life but distaste that at 48 years of age I'm left behaving like a disabled geriatric old fogy.

Oh well, I guess I'll just pick myself up and carry on as I have done on the other thousands of occasions in my life when some pile of crap has tried to knock me out of this race we call life.

Sunday 30th July 2017 - Panic Attacks

My daughter has been away with her Dad for the last week and during that time I've spoken to very few people face to face. Those that I have spoken with have been medics or strangers.

Aww poor you I hear you thinking, but the reality is that is the way I feel most comfortable. You see for as long as I can recall I have found people and social interaction painfully difficult, which is a tough break bearing in mind I've been a police officer for 28 years! It's probably little wonder that I've ended up the anxious mess I am, having had to interact with people all day every day!

Mind you the police side of things was never quite as bad because when you're wearing a uniform either literally or proverbially there is always a barrier between the person and yourself. A mask if you will, a suit of armour. You can adopt a professional persona and to a certain extent give as much or as little of oneself as you want to.

Socially however, I've always struggled, I feel awkward in the company of friends or strangers, I'm unsure what to say, I second guess what people are thinking about me continually and generally find myself in the corner of the room trying to hide away until a polite enough period of time has elapsed so that I can escape. The odd thing about that is that at the same time that I'm feeling desperate to get away from social events I'm also desperate to be accepted, to feel like I belong and to be cared about. It's positively ridiculous yet I can't fight the feelings of panic, the little voice telling me I'm not welcome and the even larger voice telling me that nobody would miss me anyways.

I wonder when and where this started? Was I always this way?

I think perhaps it's a product of many things. A stern unloving Mother, moving schools too often, ultimately being removed from my secondary school friends as soon as we had finished school to move away yet again?

Whatever the cause the reality of it is here to stay. I desperately crave some love and attention yet in the same breath know that I couldn't cope with the interaction that love and attention would bring. How can these two polar opposite emotions exist in tandem? That's a very cruel twist of fate isn't it?

My daughter returns from her holiday today and in much the same way as described above I'm both desperate to have her back and dreading it in the same breath.

When she's not here there's no conflict, no kids traipsing in and out of my house violating my personal sanctuary. No demands to leave the house and mingle with the rest of the world. When she's away I can merely leave the house to walk the dogs, come straight home, lock the door and be done with the world. Perfection! Yet my young and vibrant daughter wants to be a social butterfly, to do and see things, to fully immerse herself in the world. Of course this means I have to take a very deep breath and some anti-anxiety meds before dipping my toes in the world's waters too.

We've five whole weeks to fill and I know she wants to go here, there and everywhere. This is already causing the panic to rise and my heart to race, even more so I think after a week of solitude. I've to go from one extreme to the other. I reckon I'd be a hermit crab in another existence you know! At least I'd be able to carry my precious home with me!

But get out and about I will, I will not be beaten by the monsters lurking in my subconscious. She deserves to flutter about here and there and I won't have her saddled as I am needing the cloak of home. She needs and deserves people in her life.

Oh to be a social butterfly and enjoy the flitter flutter of society. To feel light and airy. To feel pretty and attractive. To enjoy flitting from one thing to another without a care in the world.

I had a very disturbing dream last night. I was in a production on the stage and it was in a massive venue, we're talking arena proportions! The audience were all arriving, famous people, everyone I knew. I was desperately trying to get to where I knew I should be ready for my cue but could I get there? It feels like I spent all night running here and there, going around and around in circles. I even got caught up in the audience on Louis Walsh's lap?! But I just could not get to where I needed to be. The panic was overwhelming, and of course the more I panicked the less able I was to think clearly and find my way to the dressing room.

I guess that's my subconscious having the same conversation with itself about the forthcoming weeks! My fear of the people, the feeling of panic if I go and make a show of myself, so my subconscious is trying to protect me by keeping me away from getting onto that stage of life!

Anyways enough rambling for now xx

Anxiety - Do you get 'it' ?

People with anxiety disorders frequently have intense, excessive and persistent worry and fear about everyday situations. Often, anxiety disorders involve repeated episodes of sudden feelings of intense anxiety and fear or terror that reach a peak within minutes these are called panic attacks.

Anxiety is an unpleasant feeling that we all experience at times. It is a word often used to describe when we feel 'uptight', 'irritable', 'nervous', 'tense', or 'wound up'. When we are anxious we normally experience a variety of uncomfortable physical sensations. These include:

• Increased heart rate
• Muscular tension
• Sweating
• Trembling
• Feelings of breathlessness

As well as this, anxiety affects us mentally too. For example, when anxious, we often worry for large periods of time, so much so that our worry can feel out of control. These worries are often about a variety of issues and commonly our mind jumps quickly from one worry to another.

Anxiety also influences how we behave. For instance, when we feel anxious, we often avoid doing things that we want to because we are worried about how they will turn out. Although short experiences of anxiety are part and parcel of daily life, it becomes challenging when anxiety begins to follow people around and is a regular feature in their lives.

I personally suffer with anxiety and depression and to me it often feels like those that profess to care about us most, our nearest and dearest don't get 'it', even when they're trying their hardest to help and understand us.

They don't always get 'it' though do they? Not in my world anyway.

It often feels to me much like when English people raise their voices towards foreigners hoping they'll understand us! Of course, they don't, they try to help, they offer whatever they think you need, but ultimately, they don't understand what the hell you're going on about. I feel like that's how it is with anxiety and depression, no matter how loudly I shout some people just do not understand, they offer help but sometimes you just want to know someone gets 'it'. Otherwise it's a lonely place feeling desperate and misunderstood. It's even more crushing when you've been a functioning anxiety sufferer when you come to a point in life where you're not to be able to snap out of it anymore, not able to wade through the anxiety to get to work or social functions because you're crippled with self-doubt and self-loathing.

When you look in the mirror... what do you see?

For a very long time when I looked in a mirror I saw something that I didn't like, in fact I often used to repeat the same mantra to myself over and over   'gee you sure is ugly'. There was nothing about my reflection I wanted to see, looking was a necessity for social compliance, to allow me to fit societies mould.

I have always had my ups and downs. Good times and bad. I have learnt over the years to see when things are sliding down hill and that's exactly what happened seven months ago. I slid all the way to the bottom and have spent the last few months trying to climb back up the slippery slope of life.

At my worst, I am tearful have a banging headache and aching joints. At my best, I can be positive but believe me it’s always a fight and let no one tell you any different, you literally have to fight anxiety as there are no quick fixes.

People often ask me how does anxiety feel?

Well I often feel like I'm in that moment just before you trip over when you're still upright but know full well you're likely headed for the deck. That secret second of time when you know your future before anyone else. You know something bad is going to happen and you're just waiting for it to come to pass.
It's often like that moment when you've sent a text message, a 'shitogram' expecting it to go to your best mate who you've been remonstrating with about whoever it is that has actually pissed you off... Then shock horror you realise you've just sent that text message straight to the very person you've been nasty about by mistake! In that moment, the world stops and your stomach feels like its dropping out of your bottom! You flush with embarrassment, your heart pounds, your pulse thunders in your ears, your throat tightens and the panic sets in. That's how anxiety feels just going grocery shopping or doing the school run, like the end of the world.

Our world can feel like a very lonely place as anxiety makes us fear a fall constantly, makes us panic that our world is about to crash around our ears over the stupidest little things.

Yet ever the reflective type I have often pondered how other people are meant to get 'it'. Let’s face it, life is full of unique experiences and we all tread our own paths, so how can our friends and family possibly be expected to know how it feels or find the empathy over and over to match any given situation?

When I get to a really wobbly stage its generally because of a combination of problems. Much like the start of a game of Jenga I can be strong tower, a force to reckon with, but start to chip away at me and I'll start to wobble. That said even a wobbling Jenga game can remain standing, ...right? I have in the past stood tall for too long, fighting my demons, trying to steady myself when maybe I should have gotten help sooner and not tried to stand tall for so long, maybe things might not have gotten to the really bad stage they did?

I know it must be difficult for those non-anxious folks amongst you to accept that we, the anxious, generally only turn down social events because of our mental illness. It does seem like such a stretch I'm sure for you guys to grasp, but believe me when I say it’s nothing personal.  I have often been treated with contempt and hostility for bailing out of functions which seems unfair because if someone said they couldn’t attend a gathering because they’d broken a bone or had the flu there would be gushing compassion and sincere wishes to get well soon. However, mention mental illness or anxiety and firstly it gets glossed over, ignored, but long term it can be taken as an indication that you are untrustworthy, a useless friend even, one who should perhaps be excluded from future social functions as a punishment.
That's how it feels but perhaps this is just my paranoia kicking in? There was a time when I lied about why I couldn’t make social functions. There was always that distant relative who needed attention, or a friend who needed my help or I had some mystery illness that was sweeping the town. However, since this my worst ever bout of depression, I feel compelled to be true to myself. This is the first time in my life that I actually admitted to myself that I have a real illness, I have finally given myself some credit for not being that selfish stand-offish bitch who allegedly hates people, but instead I can now recognise that I am someone who has a genuine illness.

It's taken me years of looking in that blasted mirror to accept that depression and anxiety are going to be a lifelong issue for me and it’ll never just be a case of getting better. There are good days and bad days, but admitting it to myself was a big deal.  So, if I’m asked why I am not going somewhere these days I am honest about it, whether that makes people feel uncomfortable or not and I'm sorry to say that I think it does still make some people feel squirmy and awkward.
In the Victorian era, us, the mentally ill, or the insane, as we were once referred to, were locked away from society, placed in mental institutions or work houses, segregated and scorned. I do wonder whether that depth of stigma still resonates in people’s minds, because there is still a stigma attached to mental illness.

I 've been making it a habit of mine to say it out loud these days, although you can end up feeling a bit like the elephant in the room when you do.  People almost want to physically shift away from you, to put some distance between themselves and you. Perhaps there is an automatic assumption you’re an axe murderer, or is it just an inherent discomfort that someone would admit that sort of shameful secret out loud? Or is it more likely to be the fact that many people face similar battles of their own but have yet to see the light in their own mirror, to accept their own truths?

Social media, twitter and my blog have been an enormous help to me. There is a large supportive community of people that do get 'it' out there waiting for you and trust me when I say feeling accepted for who you are is immensely cathartic.
I have deviated from my point. I do not want to be ashamed of my mental illness.  I want to be proud of myself for working through my anxiety, for getting up on those mornings when all I want to do is cry and hide under the dining room table. For continuing to drive to social functions even when there are tears of panic and stress rolling down my cheeks, for getting back up every time life’s bowling ball knocks me down.
So, to you the non-anxious folk out there if people like me are shouting about their anxiety from the rooftops please know it helps us cope and move forwards. Be kind and compassionate, maybe just buy yourself some ear plugs!
If a friend or colleague confides in you that they’re struggling or don’t feel able to do something because of their anxiety or depression then just say ‘okay that’s fine I understand.’ Give them the space they need and do invite them out again and again.

Do not take it personally; it’s about them not you. They’re not trying to insult you; in fact, if they confide the truth in you then they’re paying you a compliment in trusting you, making the assumption that you might just understand them and the struggles they’re living with. Just know that they’re literally putting their heart into your hands so be very gentle with it.

To you the anxiety sufferers I say trust in people, tell them your story honestly. Look in your mirror and see yourself for who you truly are.

Ways forward that I've tried...

It is important to find time to relax. This can help to reduce your anxiety levels by calming the body and mind.
Relaxation should involve doing something that you enjoy even just being by yourself.  Try to choose something that you will look forward to and that will give you a break from your day to day grind.

Doing this activity will also give you less time to spend worrying! Here are a list of activities that I find help me to relax.

• Do some exercise (e.g. walking the dog)
• Reading a book
• Watching a favourite TV show
• Doing something creative (e.g. I find writing helps) 
• Having a bath
• Gardening

Consider visiting your general practitioner if you haven't already, they may discuss with you possible medications that might help you deal with your depression and anxiety.

Some people find something called mindfulness really helpful. It's quite a complex topic so I won't elaborate other than to say it revolves around paying more attention to the present moment – to your own thoughts and feelings, and to the world around you – it really can improve your mental wellbeing so it might be well worth looking in to.

Breathing techniques can also really can help. Again there are a variety of choices out there. I use something called 7-11 breathing that a therapist taught me.

• Let your breath flow as deep down into your belly as is comfortable, without forcing it.
• Try breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth.
• Breathe in gently and regularly.
• On the breath in count steadily from one to seven. (You may not be able to reach seven at first.) 
• Then, without pausing or holding your breath, let your breath flow out again really gently, this time counting to eleven. 
• Keep doing this for three to five minutes

As I said you may not manage these figures straight away but as long as you breathe out for longer than you breathe in the technique will work for you.

You could also experiment with meditation, there are many apps out there to help with this, again it is such a wide topic I'll let you research that for yourself.

Finally there is counselling/therapy. This can be accessed via your GP, you can pay privately or in some cases there are various charities that offer help. Some employers, the police service included, offer access to private services. I accessed private therapy via a charity.

In summary...

First and foremost, take those first steps towards self-acceptance. Seeing your truth will put you on the right path towards learning self-compassion for yourself and finding a method of healing that suits you.

The truth about psychiatry revealed...

After my disastrous consultation with that psychiatrist I got chatting to my amazing therapist Debbie Banks and she opened my eyes to a world that I was unaware existed. A world where notable, clever, informed psychologists and Doctors are challenging the world of psychiatry and psychiatrists. I was blissfully unaware, or perhaps just hadn't given it the rightful consideration that psychiatrists are purely work from a perspective of 'their opinion'. They have little actual proof of their diagnosis unlike medical doctors do. Blood tests, x-rays, etc do not come into psychiatry do they? Instead they rely on their own opinions as guided by a book commonly referred to as the DSM.

The DSM, or  the American Psychiatry Association's Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. classifies mental disorders. For example, in the current fifth edition of the book, the first new edition for two decades, it classifies manifestations of grief, temper tantrums and worrying about physical ill-health as the mental illnesses of major depressive disorder, disruptive mood dysregulation disorder and somatic symptom disorder, respectively.

The British Psychological Society's division of clinical psychology (DCP) has in the past issued statements declaring that, given the lack of evidence, it is time for a "paradigm shift" in how the issues of mental health are understood. Their statements have effectively cast doubt on psychiatry's predominantly biomedical model of mental distress – the idea that people are suffering from illnesses that are treatable by doctors using drugs.

Dr Lucy Johnstone, who is a consultant clinical psychologist supports the DCP and says it is unhelpful to see mental health issues as illnesses with biological causes.

"On the contrary, there is now overwhelming evidence that people break down as a result of a complex mix of social and psychological circumstances – bereavement and loss, poverty and discrimination, trauma and abuse,"

Some of the fifth edition of the DSM's omissions are just as controversial as the manual's inclusions. The term "Asperger's disorder"does not appear in the  manual, instead its symptoms now come under the newly added "autism spectrum disorder".

The DSM is used in a number of countries to varying degrees. Britain does use an alternative manual, the International Classification of Diseases (ICD) published by the World Health Organisation, but the DSM is still hugely influential – and controversial.

This perspective came as a bit of a revelation to me after I had endured Mr Psychiatrist labelling me as an alcohol dependant individual after I admitted drinking alcohol to him most evenings over the last six months. I have argued my case with him that I take drugs every day, co-codamol and antidepressants,  therefore am I a drug addict? He never answered that question. But based on my responses to several very closed questions he concluded I was alcohol dependant.

I being indoctrinated, like a lot of you I'm sure, felt that someone of his standing and qualifications must know what they are talking about and I even started to doubt myself. Was I alcohol dependant? On the basis I haven't drunk since, (now 2 weeks) I sincerely doubt it but it did bring me around to thinking that if he can jump to that conclusion based on very little evidence then what other warped presumptuous conclusions can and do these so called professionals jump to?

I have to of course remember my psychiatrist was employed by the police service, at £350 an hour, to prepare a report for them as to my current mental health. Do we think he has therefore been entirely unbiased? Would his opinion do better to suit his employer or me I wonder? For instance he has concluded I have PTSD symptoms? I have asked for him to expand upon this and his answer was as follows,

" I feel that you have “PTSD symptoms (she may have historically suffered from the disorder but is improved but still has residual symptoms.)” I feel you have improved and thus the whole disorder is not currently present."

Now call me cynical but if I have PTSD symptoms do I not have a diagnosis of PTSD? I mean if I had chicken pox symptoms I would have chicken pox! If I was paying him I suspect he would have diagnosed PTSD but as the police service would prefer for me not to have that diagnosis he can skirt around it because he's an expert and only has to rely on his opinions.

As a cop this whole concept of being able to rely on opinion seems utterly bemusing. Can you imagine if each cop could arrest people based on their own opinions of what was right and wrong! We have the law and legal precedents what do the world of psychiatry have? The DSM?! A book which listed being homosexual as a mental disorder up until 1987?!

Yes you heard right until 1987!

Prior to seeing this psychiatrist I had a notion that he would be a paragon of mental health virtue, compassionate, unstigmatised and truly understanding. What I got was a bully with a fist class degree in 'I know better than you', pompous, arrogant and very quick to make assumptions based on limited information. How concerning is this when these so called professionals are dealing with the most vulnerable people in our society? I left his office feeling, ashamed, guilty and extremely low if not quite desperate. I have pulled through it and risen above his nonsense, but some people surely will not, some will accept his labelling of them as gospel and to what further cost to their health?

Even I felt like I was taking on a giant when I challenged his opinions of me,  he did however soon back down and altered what he was planning to say about me, which begs the question as to its validity in the first place surely?

Dr Thomas Szasz's is an American doctor who is an advocate for the idea that psychiatry is currently way off the mark and that human behaviour has reasons, not causes.

Dr Szasz says:

"Myth of mental illness." Mental illness is a metaphor (metaphorical disease). The word "disease" denotes a demonstrable biological process that affects the bodies of living organisms (plants, animals, and humans). The term "mental illness" refers to the undesirable thoughts, feelings, and behaviors of persons. Classifying thoughts, feelings, and behaviors as diseases is a logical and semantic error, like classifying the whale as a fish. As the whale is not a fish, mental illness is not a disease. Individuals with brain diseases (bad brains) or kidney diseases (bad kidneys) are literally sick. Individuals with mental diseases (bad behaviors), like societies with economic diseases (bad fiscal policies), are metaphorically sick. The classification of (mis)behavior as illness provides an ideological justification for state-sponsored social control as medical treatment. 

"If you talk to God, you are praying;
If God talks to you, you have schizophrenia."

(Quote from Dr Szasz)

Dr Szasz believes that in recent decades, American medicine has become increasingly politicised and politics has become increasingly medicalised. Behaviours' previously seen as virtuous or wicked, wise or unwise are now dealt with as healthy or sick--unwanted behaviours' to be controlled as if they were health issues. The modern penchant for transforming human problems into diseases and judicial sanctions into treatments, replacing the rule of law with the rule of medical discretion, leads to the creation of a type of government that Dr Szasz calls pharmacracy. Medicalising troublesome behaviours and social problems is tempting to voters and politicians alike: it panders to the people by promising to satisfy their needs for dependence on medical authority. Dr Szasz believes people thus gain a convenient scapegoat, enabling them to avoid personal responsibility for their behaviour.

The government in turn gains a rationale for endless and politically expedient wars against social problems defined as public health emergencies. The health care system gains prestige, funding, and bureaucratic power that only an alliance with the political system can provide. However, Dr Szasz warns, the creeping substitution of pharmacracy for democracy--private medical concerns increasingly perceived as requiring a political response--inexorably erodes personal freedom and dignity. Pharmacracy a word created by Dr Szasz to encapsulate his beliefs:

"In as much as we have words to describe medicine as a healing art,
but have none to describe it as a method of social control or political rule,
we must first give it a name. I propose that we call it pharmacracy, from the
Greek roots pharmakon, for ‘medicine' or ‘drug,' and kratein, for ‘to rule' or
‘to control.' ... As theocracy is rule by God or priests, and democracy is rule
by the people or the majority, so pharmacracy is rule by medicine or physicians."

This concept that psychiatry is therefore a tool for the state to control people makes a lot of sense to me. Had you asked me several weeks ago I would have laughed at you, but after the significant experience I had. I would have to say the psychiatrist I visited was clearly used to controlling people  regardless of the evidence. What a worrying concept.

Another advocate of this way of thinking is a Dr Terry Lynch who has over 30 years experience as a medical doctor; 15 years as a psychotherapist; 15 years as the provider of a recovery-oriented mental health service; and is the author of three books on mental health, including one bestseller.

Over the years he states:

"I have learned that the prevailing understanding of depression is seriously misguided, seriously flawed"

Dr Lynch states that there is much myth, mystery and misinformation surrounding what we have come to call “depression”.

He says that there are facts not commonly understood in relation to depression and that this is primarily due to the fact that misinformation has regrettably been regularly churned out regarding depression for over 40 years, and he feels this is a pattern that needs to stop.

Dr Lynch makes ten assertions about depression in this regard which I find wholly fascinating:

1. Depression DOES NOT meet standard medical criteria for a disease. 

The criteria for and the definitions of disease which have been employed by the medical profession for decades are well established. Depression does not meet these standard medical criteria for a disease.   

2. Depression IS NOT a known brain disorder. 

A number of sites include comprehensive lists of all known brain disorders. One such example is the US National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Stroke, a US government-backed Institute, an institute within the umbrella US National Institutes of Health. Their list of neurological disorders is so extensive that it includes many disorders I have never encountered in more than thirty years as a medical doctor. Depression is not included in this comprehensive list of all known brain and neurological disorders. Other sites that contain lists and overviews of all brain and neurological disorders include The Brain Foundation (Australia) and WedMD. Depression is not included as a brain disorder on these sites either. 

3. Depression IS NOT a chemical imbalance. 

Contrary to the common understanding, no pre-existing brain chemical imbalances has ever been reliably identified in depression. It follows that antidepressants cannot – and should not – truthfully be claimed to work by correcting brain chemical imbalances. Some people report being helped by these substances. But not by balancing brain chemicals.

4. Depression IS NOT a known genetic disorder. 

Within the medical profession, the acid test by which a disease or disorder is concluded to be known to be genetic is the reliable laboratory identification of a genetic abnormality. No such abnormalities have been reliably identified in depression.

5. Depression IS NOT a medical illness just like diabetes.

A common perception about depression is that is a medical illness just like diabetes. Actually, from a scientific perspective, diabetes and depression are poles apart. To give you just one example of why this is the truth; while diabetes is never diagnosed without laboratory investigations that confirm the diagnosis, depression is always diagnosed without laboratory investigations that confirm the diagnosis.

6. The experiences and behaviours that become labelled as “depression” are very real.

The five facts about depression I have listed above do not in any way imply that the experiences and behaviours that become labelled as depression are not real. They are very real. These experiences are often excruciating.

7. Depression can be understood through understanding how six important themes occur and interlink with each other. 

These themes are:- wounding; shock; distress in many forms; defence mechanisms and coping strategies; choices and decision-making; and trauma.

8. Trauma is often a core feature of depression.

There is a strong link between psychological trauma and depression. Because the importance of psychological trauma is regularly underestimated, the frequency and extent of psychological trauma and its relationship to depression is frequently missed or underestimated.

9. Some features of depression are coping strategies.

Although not commonly recognised as such, many of the experiences and behaviours that come under the umbrella term “depression” are defence mechanisms and coping strategies. Shutting down and disconnecting, for example, can be understood as a person’s attempt at what they see as their best and most trusted available solution.

10. A reduced sense of self is a regular feature of depression. 

Throughout the fifteen years in which I have provided a recovery-oriented mental health service and even in the years before that when I worked as a GP (general practitioner/family physician), I have consistently noticed that people who become depressed and diagnoses with depression generally have a reduced sense of self. They tend to have an often greatly reduced sense of self-empowerment; self generated security (I use this term to describe our ability to make ourselves feel safe and secure in the various situations we encounter); self-expression; self-belief; self confidence; self-worth; self-belonging. Another related consistent finding is patterns of feeling, expressing and dealing with emotions that are frequently the person’s best solution as they see it, but that often cause considerable difficulties and distress for them in their lives.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In summary then :-

I guess what all these experts are saying is that depression and it's symptoms are wholly real but are more likely the bodies response to trauma than they are as a result of any specific medical illness.

So by that reckoning we as a society in the west are currently medicating more and more people for depression which is probably becoming a self fulfilling prophecy isn't it? If we try throwing anti-biotics at infections constantly they cease to be effective and the body loses the ability to fight such infections on its own. By over using antidepressants our bodies and our emotions will never learn how to be at peace with themselves. Our current world is clearly traumatising us, our style of living is actually triggering our flight or fight response to such an extent that we are losing the ability to regulate ourselves.

So short of escaping to a desert island we all have to learn how to process traumatic events, or even accept the basic concept, especially us cops, that trauma needs decompressing somehow. Left alone trauma becomes like an infected wound festering in the brain causing no end of issues such as depression and PTSD.

With the police service in it's current state of decline, command teams around the country need to understand that without better mental health provisions the current epidemic of anxiety and depression will only increase.

De-moralised, depleted officers cannot and will not stay healthy for very long.

Is leaving the police service for another job a viable option?

The question was raised today whether leaving the police service for another job was a viable option?

When I joined the service in the late 80's it was recognised as a career for life,  you joined for the 30 year stretch. You made a life long commitment and I for one felt proud and compelled to make it. I never for one minute doubted my choice despite being thrust into a turbulent unknown world from my humble middle class background. I was naïve in the ways of the world and I embarked on a learning curve enviable by some of the worlds biggest roller coasters.

I wore a skirt, a white stiff collared shirt, a tie, a tunic and the stipulated Marks & Spencer's barely black tights! I was issued with a black long mac, a black anorak, a thin black V neck jumper to wear under my tunic if it were to get cold. Then there was the obligatory ladies hand bag, a pair of metal hand cuffs, their leather pouch, oh yes and a black belt! Plus epaulettes, chrome numbers and the pins to secure them.

I wonder what I would have made back then of what the service has become in the last 28 years?

When I joined the 'old sweats' were still bleating on about that damned new legislation called PACE and lamenting for their familiar judges rules!

My very first piece of PPE other than the cuffs came about 18 months into my service when I got issued with a mini wooden baton, (half the size of the men's)  In time I then watched the long 'Arnold' baton come and go before the issue of extendable batons called ASPs. I've watched utility belts arrive only to be replaced by 'tac' vests. I saw the introduction of rigid cuffs to the exclusion of the old chain versions. I've watched stab proof vests be introduced as a station resource, before then becoming personal issue. There were NATO jumpers that appeared as tunics became relegated to stalwarts of the court room before ultimately being ditched altogether in some places.  CS gas arrived and was then replaced by pepper spray. From no computers at all,  to the basic ones with a dot matrix printer, to the high tech internet beasts of today.

There were canteens with friendly staff looking after officers and police bars a plenty. Heading to the bar to let of steam after a late shift was common practice. There were meals and teas/coffees provided when on courses, all these little extra financial compensations have all evaporated.

I started with a basic Motorola UHF pack set radio, with VHF sets in the cars.

I recall being the first on the shift to have a mobile phone and being laughed at that they wouldn't catch on!

Then came trousers for us women, they were those itchy woollen goddamn awful things but they were trousers. Now of course the military like combat trouser is king.

So many, many changes over the years. But the biggest change of all?

The loss of morale and the loss of feeling like you were part of a large family that got through the shite together, on or off duty. There was a feeling back then that the bosses had our backs, generally speaking politics had no place in policing and that the job was about locking up the bad guys. 

Back in those dark ages the public respected their police service and the media didn't seem to jump so quickly and avidly to stamp their disapproval upon us at every turn. We felt valued and that made the most enormous difference.

The police service of 2017 is depleted, under resourced and vilified by the press. Politics is at the forefront of policing and catching the bad guys has to be done to fit a political agenda!  God forbid we upset a crook!

What is to become of this changed police service?

Officers are leaving in droves to find work elsewhere regardless of the pay drops they are taking. What price peace of mind they must be thinking. If you can see your family more than one weekend a month, escape the horrific pressures, the dangers and regain your mental health why not? Life is for the living surely? Officers are expected to work so many unsocial shifts, so many cancelled rest days, lose their hard earned leave and for what?... a wage that is in real terms falling? Why would anyone want to work in that sort of environment?

Career chasers' can be heard talking the leavers down, uttering abusive insults about flipping burgers and the like but I can't help but feel they've used these hard working officers backs to climb up to the lofty heights of their high horses, grinding them down and breaking their spirits in the process. We need more than lip service, we need more than someone saying they're supportive of their troops. We need evidence of that support. There is no use talking the talk without walking the walk otherwise it only serves to be an exercise in ticking the boxes of their ridiculous policy books.

Perhaps the governments ultimate aim is to drive us all out before they employ a private company like G4S?

I'm sad, I grieve for what was. I don't feel I have any place in the shambles the service is becoming. It's broken me, it's taken away my spirit and like any bully it just laughs at me for it and denies all responsibility. I'm not alone, there will be many more like myself that are broken irreparably by their service to our country. The pressure, the dangers, the thankless task it has become.

So, the question raised today was whether leaving the police service for another job was a viable option? I'd have to say that's a big fat yes wouldn't you?

Friday 14th July 2017

Its that time of year where change is in the air isn't it?

Summer holidays for the kids, change of routines all around for those affected families as a consequence. Seaside towns like the one I live in becoming inundated by some of those families looking for some well deserved rest and relaxation. Whilst at the same time we look forward with some trepidation to the new school year and what that will bring. I'm feeling the winds of change too, I'm not sure I can put my finger on precisely why but I can feel a shift.

Since the last blog I wrote and left posted... I've had a bit of a roller-coaster ride with my emotions. A week ago today I visited a psychiatrist at the request of my force. They say to establish what treatment I should be receiving but I have my doubts that their grounds were quite that compassionate! Especially as they've not been the source of any treatment to date over the last seven months!

The encounter was not a pleasant one and the professional was overbearing, jumped to conclusions and put words into my mouth. I was so distraught throughout the consultation that I was continually crying and at times incapable of being coherent. The consultation was an hour in total and cost the force £350. There was about ten minutes of administration, thirty minutes of very closed questioning which was then stunted further by him contemporaneously recording everything I said. Then he used the last twenty minutes of the session to dictate his letter about me! He says he does it that way so that people know what he will be saying but I have to say it felt more like a time saving exercise to me!

I left the appointment feeling very low and ashamed as he'd made some wild assumptions that I felt stained my character and I spent the next two days feeling really quite distraught about the whole experience. Quite a joke really bearing in mind he is meant to be a mental health specialist and advocate!

After forty eight hours of feeling terribly downtrodden and utterly beaten by the system I had an epiphany. I recalled him saying to me that I could withdraw my consent for him to share his findings with the force at anytime. So I did! This resulted in some squirming, an apology and the letter he'd so hastily dictated being re-written to better reflect my case based on the facts as opposed to his snap assumptions. I have now reinstated my consent for him to share it with the Occupational health department and in turn my force.

Anyway what I have found in the last week is that I have been through a whole array of emotions. From the down trodden beaten feelings of despair to the incensed fire to stand up for myself. Now I'm feeling that I'm almost grateful he treated me so badly as it lit a fire under my butt and forced me to confront the issues head on if you'll excuse the pun!

The psychiatrist reached the following diagnosis for me in his letter:

1. Moderate depressive disorder
2. Generalised anxiety disorder
3. PTSD symptoms

I've had to email him back again and ask if No 3 is a PTSD diagnosis or if just having symptoms isn't quite going that far? Or does it take longer than thirty minutes in a one off session to reach that sort of conclusive diagnosis?

As an aside, he quotes a passage from the force's referral to him in his letter. Apparently they made the following statement "she is reluctant to return to work"? Now I read that as she's swinging the lead or can't be arsed to come to work as opposed to she's unable to return to work or she's too poorly to return to work. What do you think? Have to say it got under my skin somewhat. In his letter he refers to it as a poor prognostic factor!

Another odd comment in his letter is this one;

"perhaps either contributing or perhaps clouding diagnostically is her fibromyalgia"

How does it cloud things? If he knows his stuff and one is assuming he should, it's well documented that PTSD and Fibromyalgia often go hand in hand, in fact my last blog looked at just this area so why does he feel my Fibromyalgia clouds a diagnosis?

Anyway that letter will be winging its way to the OH department, as to what benefit it'll have for me I'm unsure! Does it take me any further forwards? I'm not sure. Was it worth £350?? Probably not! Any decent detective could have taken a far better, all encompassing witness statement from me gathering much greater detail. He could definitely learn a thing or two about listening and compassion because the way he went about things was seriously flawed. Plus detectives don't earn £350 an hour! It certainly brings it home how professional we are as a service for what essentially is peanuts in comparison to what that monkey is earning!

Thursday 29th June 2017 - #PTSD

Feeling very low today, the weather knows as its reflecting my mood. Dreary and dark, raining where I'm crying.

The affects of the Fibromyalgia are very evident today, or is it PTSD causing the symptoms? My head is swimming like I've had three pints of strong lager, my joints ache like I've run a marathon, my emotions are out of control, there's a ball of utter panic in my chest pulsating its evil to the whole of my body. Breathing is laboured and the feeling of dread is looming large...

This week has been tough, Baby Bear away in London with the school has stupidly after recent events up there meant her safety has been playing on my mind.

Today I'd promised to drive to meet with someone but after a massive panic attack this morning I have had to pull out. This makes me feel so weak and pathetic. Self loathing floods every fibre, as I now realise how insipid I am and its heart breaking.

I used to be a strong, confident career woman. I used to meet new situations head on. I had nerves yes, but I could always lock those feelings in a cupboard and get on with it. Gradually though as depression takes hold, just like blasted bindweed, it chokes the confidence out of you, eventually totally masking your old self. It happens so gradually you'll be half gone before you know it.

I spent so many months and years trying to cover it up, pretending I was fine that by the time I finally acknowledged it I was already a shadow of my former self.

I feel so physically overwhelmed by my symptoms today it's like I've been poisoned, but I suppose in an odd way I have.

Yesterday on twitter there was some suggestion that PTSD could be linked to Fibromyalgia or even that the diagnosis should be PTSD and not Fibromyalgia? So I had a dig about on the internet.

What is PTSD?

Post-traumatic stress disorder has only been recently recognized as a mental illness. It is not like depression or schizophrenia as it is wholly accepted that the reasons for developing the illness are external. Exposure to trauma can lead to post-traumatic stress disorder.
That trauma may come on the battlefield, in an abusive relationship, a bad employment position and so on – in other words, as it is now recognized that a huge component of post-traumatic stress disorder originates in the body’s stress reaction in response to a stimulus the trauma that can cause it is seen as anything.
Every person has a different capacity for stress and will respond to varying trauma differently too. In PTSD, the person exists in a constant state of hyper-vigilance that results in an imbalance in stress hormones and cortisol levels in the body. They may be subject to flashbacks, nightmare or general anxiety as a result of the initiating event.

Who is at risk?

Any one from a young child to a senior adult can develop PTSD. It is not uncommon for people to develop and recover from PTSD, but this then puts them at a higher risk of developing the disorder in response to a new event.
Anyone suffering a trauma – such as a traumatic event, surgery, illness or high levels of stress is also at risk. As are persons who live with chronic pain or who have an impaired immune system.
Those in high stress and high emotion environments are also considered to be at risk. The new diagnostic criteria now recognizes that there are several levels of post-traumatic stress disorder and offers appropriate treatments for each level of severity.

What is fibromyalgia?

Fibromyalgia is a chronic disease that is characterized by a cluster of symptoms. The most common are chronic pain, stiffness, brain fog, depression and disturbed sleep. There is no specific known cause or cure for fibromyalgia, but there are very many treatments that have shown to be effective in controlling symptoms.
Fibromyalgia often sets the stage for other disorders to occur because of how the immune system is affected. Irritable bowel syndrome and migraine syndromes are common as well. There are now tests that can help determine if you are suffering from fibromyalgia.

Who is at risk?

Originally considered a woman’s disease, there is more awareness now that men develop fibromyalgia as well. It can come on any time after the 18^th year, but children have been diagnosed with it as well. The suspected causes of fibromyalgia are many.
There may be a gene component, which means if someone in your family has the disease you are at a higher risk. Traumatic brain injury has been related to it, as has major illness, disease and surgery. Emotional and mental trauma is also thought to play a key role in activating fibromyalgia in the body too.

Which is the cause of what?

As more is becoming known about how fibromyalgia affects your sympathetic nervous system, the easier it is to see how it relates to post traumatic stress disorder. It isn’t so much that one will cause the other, but that the presence of one may increase the risk of the other.
The action of PTSD on the immune system may very well set up the environment that welcomes fibromyalgia. Vice versa, fibromyalgia may create an amplified body syndrome that can then escalate into post-traumatic stress disorder given the right circumstances.

If you look at each disorder separately and then compare their common recommended treatments, you can see that there is a great deal of overlap. Both are treated with anti-depressants to help control serotonin levels in the body, and they may also be treated with anti-anxiety agents.
Both also recommend life style changes as a long term management system such as diet, exercise, meditation and other habits.

The problem with post-traumatic stress disorder and fibromyalgia is that there symptoms are very similar. They are different in a very important way though – which is that the post-traumatic psychiatric effect which can lead to flashbacks and anxiety.

So I think my conclusion is that clearly there is a link but essentially they are still different diagnosis

Sunday 25th June 2017 - It's okay not to be okay

The feeling of impending doom, does it ever go away? That constant niggle at the back of your mind that you have something you should be remembering. The inability to sit at rest for fear that you should be doing something constructive...but what was it? The churning stomach the constant looking over your shoulder to see who's there.
In the run up to the end of the school term there are so many events and things going on with baby bear at school that I feel as if I'm balanced on a knife edge, scared stiff I'll forget something as my brain is just a complete mush of madness and consternation.

Last week I lost my house and car keys for forty eight hours, only to find them outside on the wheelie bin lid on full view to every Tom, Dick or Harry car thief and burglar that might have happened past my way.

I stand for minutes on end wondering what I'm meant to be doing or even thinking. I know some of you will say this is just down to age but trust be it borders on dementia. The Fibro fog pads out my brain much like a teddy who is filled to bursting with kapok. I'm like an iPad that needs a software upgrade, slow to respond and freezing up a lot!
Worse than that though I'm constantly cross and agitated which means baby bear is having a rougher ride of things than normal as I seem to be nit picking at her over the smallest details of life. Every time I see her crest fallen little face it chips my heart a bit more. This damned illness, be it the depression or the Fibromyalgia it's got a lot to answer for, which in a world where I'm trying to learn to like myself and give myself permission to exist just leads to more self loathing which isn't at all healthy.
Mental Health is like the spiders web, and I'm the fly stuck in its clutches, struggling for freedom, panicking that I'll never be free.

I used to be confident, capable and a force to be reckoned with, yet now I'm a wreck, a mere shadow of that former self. Things that I wouldn't have blinked twice about doing in the past now cause me great angst and self doubt. The racing heart, the shortness of breath, the dizziness, the mental fog and that's before we even start discussing my swollen and seized up joints. What a sorry state of affairs to get oneself into.
The more I try and focus on what I should be doing the further away the idea seems to float, it's like when you can't remember a fact that's 'on the tip of your tongue'  the harder you think the less likely you are to recall it. Well that's just life in general inside my brain these days. What's even crueller in some respects is that I still sound and look normal because I feel anything but. I feel disabled, I feel mentally challenged, I feel diminished. I think I'd need an appropriate adult if brought into custody. What a state of affairs!

 I've been wondering if I had listened to myself more down the years, if I'd paid attention to the depression and anxiety instead of  ignoring it,  would things have gotten this bad? No probably not. Should I have spoken up sooner? Yes of course, well I kind of did but it wasn't the politically correct thing to do so I just made jokes about myself being mad.

If you're suffering you have to do something about it. I spent two years driving to work hyper ventilating and crying through the anxiety of being at work. I battled on but to what cost to my health? When you leave the police service and we all will what are you left with? Yourself and without your health you're screwed. A good friend said to me last week, 'Don't give them any more of your sanity'

'Don't give them any more of your sanity'

and she's so right. Battling on, hiding the symptoms, self medicating on booze or pills, eventually something will give and I think there would have been less damage to my health if it had been a controlled melt down as opposed to just falling flat on my face! 

It's okay not to be okay

Think about that statement a while. When I first admitted to myself I had depression it felt good, it was as if a burden had been lifted. The hiding of it will only seek to let it fester. When I went back to work after my first break down two years ago I talked about it openly and although some people were very uncomfortable with that it made me feel good. In fact the less they liked it the more I shouted my mouth off! It's not a cure though, there was part of me that couldn't fathom out why it didn't bugger off once I'd acknowledged it. But accepting it does mean you can look at methods of dealing with it. Much like with addiction, the addict has to admit the problem before help can be sought. It's okay not to be okay.

Even now I've learnt about lots of self help tools I'm not going to kid you, it's a struggle. The black dog is that weighted bag around your neck whilst your swimming, dragging you down, trying to put you down. But you have to keep fighting, I need to be here for baby bear, although she deserves better than to have a broken mum.

Try not to get as far along the line as I did before admitting you need help. Hopefully the sooner you get help the lighter your weights will be.

 

1140 hours Sunday 18th June 2017

It would appear that summer has arrived in the UK!!

Looks like we will have a 'week' of sunshine! Yea! I will of course eat my hat should we get further prolonged periods of sunshine this year!! (makes mental note to buy edible head wear!)

So a few things to catch up on, 'The Case Conference'... the night before the conference was due to take place my boss emailed me with a jovial, 'is everything okay for tomorrow?'

BIG MISTAKE!!

As I had said to you all, I was already working myself up into a frenzy and found myself firing back a 'no I bloody well ain't' type email before I could take too many breaths!!  I detailed my symptoms and asked him why it was necessary to hold a meeting at a juncture where I was still awaiting a psych. referral and had only two days previously been seen by the FMO. Her report detailed my current state of mind quite eloquently, as 'low'!. They hadn't actually seen the report yet, so I forwarded it on to them as supporting evidence of what I was saying about my mood and the way attending the meeting on top of that was making me feel. The boss then returned fire with short shrift saying it needed to go ahead as there were things he needed to discuss!' I was not amused...

The day of the conference dawned and my joints were so swollen and seized that in order to get out of my bed I had to roll myself out and off before then needing to bum shuffle down the stairs as my knees wouldn't bend well enough or hold sturdy enough for me to safely descend in the normal manner. In fact, I was a quivering wreck.

I decided to take the dogs out prior to getting washed and brushed up for said conference, when lo and behold I had another email. This time my boss capitulated, he had found some compassion, and offered to have a telephone conference instead of dragging me into a police building. I felt such relief. He also luckily gave me a specific time that he'd ring to alleviate any further strain and I insisted on my fed rep being with him in his office throughout the conversation. I still got worked up as I hate phones, but sometimes its a question of accepting the lesser of two evils isn't it?

The email summary of the conversation is detailed below...

Good morning Leasa

I hope you are well It was good to speak yesterday.

To confirm what was agreed during our conversation:

·         We discussed your recent consultation with FMO

·         You confirmed that you would continue to receive full pay for 3 more months.

·         You informed me that you are finding the ongoing treatment through ‘Save our Soldiers’ (via Safer Horizons) beneficial

Psychiatric Assessment

We had considerable discussion around this and the fact that you were frustrated that it had not yet happened

The following summarises the discussion and how we would progress

·         Welfare has requested that a referral for a psychiatric assessment is made

·         You have agreed that it would be good for you

·         FMO has recommended the referral is made psychiatric assessment

I informed you:

·         That the force would fund the referral

·         That Welfare had tried to make the referral but had not been able to because Occupational Health were awaiting written consent from you.

You stated that you had not been provided with a written consent form and we agreed that you would write me a letter consenting to the referral.

Supportive Management Action (SMA)

·         We discussed the previous arrangements agreed in March

·         I informed you that UAP would not be considered at this stage but will be discussed in 3 months time

·         We agreed that you were not fit for work at this time and you updated me with the fact that your that your current ‘Fit Note’ expires on 8 July 2017

·         When asked about what supportive measures would help your main concern was the psychiatric assessment referred to above.

Actions agreed:

·         I would maintain regular contact with you – every 2 weeks – where I would text you and, if you are feeling well enough have a telephone conversation.

·         You will maintain regular contact and attend appointments and treatment as advised

·         You will send in a consent form re Psychiatric Assessment (DONE) which I will forward to Welfare to facilitate the referral (DONE)

·         Welfare will ensure, via Occupational Health, that the referral is made.

So there you go that's where we are currently up to!

Moving swiftly on from such depressing things!

Over the last couple of days I have found that being near water seems to quieten my mind and bring about some peaceful feelings. I have gotten baby bear's paddling pool out to lounge about in! But it isn't quite the same as the pool in Turkey!! What do you think? I've considered painting the Turkey view on my back fence but I'm not sure I'm skilled enough!!

The last twenty four hours have been lovely as baby bear has been with her dad and I could just look after myself. Very selfish I know but the space to breathe seems to make a world of difference to me.

I'm dreading a couple of things this week... Have a meeting tomorrow at the school as to whether the Year 6 Leavers, Baby Bear included,  should continue with their plans to spend a week in London the week after next. Trip as been planned for over a year and paid out £350 for it. People have demanded a meeting and lots of kids parents have already pulled them out saying it is not safe for them to go!

Whilst I know I'll worry all week about the 'what if's' I do feel that I cannot let her learn this early in life that giving into these people, no these terrorist losers', is the way forward. It is not a message I want her to take to heart. at 11 years old.  I've therefore decided that if the school do go ahead as planned then she should go with them. With less kids it'll be more fun anyways!! So that decision is at the school is tomorrow at 5pm ...

Then on Wednesday afternoon, 1315 hours, it is school sports day. Two hours of trying to stand around, being in pain, being near people and also... being near that foul woman and her family who I fell out with. She has a large family around her wherever she goes versus little old broken me plus they are school governors, on the PTFA etc. and they all glower at me for having 'upset' their poor daughter, wife, mother etc. just because I admitted my #mentalhealth issues to her whilst we were having a heated discussion! She said they were irrelevant to her and I lost interest from there onwards.

Right I'm off to catch some rays....

 

0909 hrs Thursday 15/6/17

So I find myself very apprehensive today. Stomach churning, blinding headache. Joints all seized to the extent I couldn't get out of bed without rolling off the mattress this morning, followed by having to bum shuffle down the stairs. For those of you that do not understand Fibromyalgia, when I am put under psychological stress my body reacts with seizing up and extreme pain. It's almost like the brain is trying to stop me going anywhere in full awareness of the negative impact the days plans will have on me. In a warped way it's my body trying to protect me and yet it just bloody hurts and makes me feel really disabled.

Of course for those twitter followers that know my story, today is case conference day, no 2, for my sickness absence from the police service as a result of depression, anxiety and Fibromyalgia. Now approaching six months.

That's this afternoon at 1330 hours so I suspect I'll write another chunk later. For now my headache is making typing difficult as it's not just any old headache. My head hurts from the neck upwards, its sore to turn my head and stiff to even look down at the keyboard, and my forehead feels like there is someone inside with a pick axe mining for something....brain maybe!

I also need to contact the IODPA very soon, the Injury On Duty Pensioners Association. They might be able to shine a light into my darkness as to the likelihood of ill health retirement and whether I might ever be a candidate. So that's on my 'to do' list for today as well.

Right off to have some breakfast, watch some Jeremy Kyle (hides head in shame!) then dog walk, bath and ready for my appointment .....

I can't be bothered!

Since returning from holiday last week I've been in one of those deep pits of despair that only fellow depression sufferers will know. Floods of tears about goodness knows what whereby anything and everything seem to trigger some snot or other.

The day before yesterday I had my first encounter with the NHS, chronic pain service and my first impressions weren't great but then they could be somewhat tainted by the embarrassment of having cried on and off for an hour or more in front of a complete stranger! I think I expected some 'expert' input into my #Fibromyalgia alongside some guidance on appropriate meds. However neither was forthcoming as the service concentrates on pain management through methods other than medication so I think I felt a little misguided by my GP.

Then yesterday I had another appointment with the GP. I took along suggestions from the pain clinic nurse for him having specifically asked her she'd relented and given me 'off the record' advice on meds! The GP ignored it all with a flippant comment 'those pain clinics have some odd ideas' remark. In fact he then proceeded to remove the only #Fibro medicine I was on (gabapentin) after I asked to be swapped over to another before lecturing me as to the fact that Duloxetine wasn't even registered for pain relief, despite it's widespread use for Fibro by other patients! He then also decided for the second time in as many months to change my antidepressants overnight. This time to Mirtazapine, casting aside Sertraline the same way as Citalopram went not so long ago!
As I sat crying in front of him I couldn't help reflecting how humiliating it is to be out of control, especially as that is the second time in two days I've blubbed in public. He must dread me darkening his door!
I have painful shoulder joints due to calcium build ups on the tendons and he wanted to refer me for steroid injections and physiotherapy, I declined which seemed to leave him perplexed, 'why not?' he asked and the only answer I could find was 'I can't be bothered'
Which pretty much sums up the way I am feeling about most things this week, 'I can't be bothered', God help the Occupational Health woman on Friday if she starts with me, assuming I can see through the snot and tears. I'm bloody miserable and moody!
The GP asked me what I was going to do about work as he categorically thinks I'm not fit for any form of duties and look unlikely to be for some time. What can I say? I shrugged my shoulders despondently and told him there was another work case conference looming next week where they'd be asking the same damn question. What do I say?
Then he signed me off again until the 8th July and packed me off. That will take me over the half pay marker that's been set for the 20th June 2017.

I do know I'm feeling disappointment in myself that I don't feel like I am making any progress towards being healthier. I'm feeling guilty for 'dragging' it out if that's what I'm doing. I also worry about peoples tolerance for my continuing low mood, compassion fatigue must be on the horizon. Goodness knows I'm bloody bored of it myself, let alone anyone else!

That overwhelming feeling that there is no point in anything is back leaving me wondering as to why bother in the first place! That dragging misery getting out of bed in the morning knowing you're just going to have to do all the same shite again and that equally miserable business of trying to get to sleep in the first place and that's before trying to stay asleep. One thing I can guarantee is that I'll be comfortably asleep around the time I need to get up though!

I was drinking a lot of spirits last week on holiday, alongside the odd beer and I'm missing the sense dulling warmth that Jack Daniels brought to me, I drank a litre bottle in a week and that's not good is it?

I feel guilty for feeling so down when there are so many people with 'real' problems out there in the world especially after the horrific terror attacks.  How can I be wallowing in self pity when so many are being so strong?

The clawing, suffocating vacuum that is despair.

I stare into space unseeingly, unable to achieve an awful lot really.  The days trundle by with me managing the bare minimum of household chores necessary, whilst I waste time doing god knows what? In fact I'm surprised I'm typing this really as I shouldn't really be bothered! I need a tattoo for my forehead 'can't be arsed' !

Hopefully next week I'll be walking on the sunny side of the street again hey?! It's odd though to still have a sense of humour alongside the heavy suffocating feelings of misery. You'd kind of expect that to evaporate but oddly it seems fairly stable.

School pick up in an hour so there's another day gone and what have I achieved? A dog walk! Wow! I'm a zombie, I look like me but the insides of my head must have been hollowed out like a Halloween pumpkin and filled with expanding foam instead. I expect even if someone ever does try to put my brains back into my skull now they won't all go will they?! Let's face it when you scrape out potato skins they never all fit back in do they?!!

Anyway I reckon I've reached my ultimate level of concentration for one day, like a Buckaroo game that's about to trigger I'm feeling enough is enough. I certainly don't want to kick anyone!