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.

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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

My story to date....

I am a police officer with 28 years service although I had a five year career break so effectively I actually have 23 years served.  I find myself on long term sick leave for the second time in three years. I've been diagnosed with Depression, Anxiety and Fibromyalgia and I am medicated for these things. I had a short period of sick leave with stress in 2002.

After I returned to work two years ago after a six month absence with depression nothing in my workplace really changed barring one risk assessment that was done, albeit half heartedly and with tongue in cheek. The same supervisor annoyingly expressed surprise that I still had depression and was taking tablets a few weeks before this my second breakdown at Christmas 2016.

After reporting sick this Christmas just gone I was immediately referred by the force to the Occupational Health Nurse, interestingly this does not happen with physical illnesses, yet within a week there I was crying uncontrollably. Forty Five minutes passed with questions about when I would be fit for work and what was I doing to help myself get back into the work place etc.. The nurse did tell me as I was wearing make-up which apparently was a good sign that I wasn't that depressed, she also said that everything I said would be reported back to my supervisors.  I didn't say a lot after that.

A month later they sent me back to her again, this time the force had stated in their referral paperwork that I was being uncooperative and distrustful of force policies and sick procedures. She was bemused by this, as was I at the time, but it did upset me greatly.

In March 2017 I self referred to Safe Horizons UK who in turn passed me along to Save Our Soldier and Debbie Banks was thankfully sent my way.

At the beginning of April 2017, I was contacted for the first time by my welfare department,  oddly enough this came two days before I was due to attend a case conference about my sickness absence at a police building! Call me cynical but....?!!

I went to the conference with my federation representative, there was a panel of my boss, a Human Resources representative and the welfare department guy. A further question and answer session went on for 45 minutes throughout which I again cried hysterically! I managed to answer some questions,   I was quizzed about my use of social media and questioned as to why I had been spreading about that I was not getting any help from the force when it was me that had told them not to contact me?
I told them that I had approached a charity for help which seemed to unsettle them, they said they'd need to check how credible they were?!
I then asked them to explain their comments on the latest referral to the OH dept.  I'll summarise their replies... apparently my use of social media had been picked up by them when monitoring my blog and twitter feed. The fact that I had asked that a certain 'bully boy' supervisor not to contact me for my statutory 'weekly' calls, was being taken as me asking them not to contact me, plus they said that I had not been wholly open in my first OH session, so taking all these things together equalled me being uncooperative and distrustful.

"We've read your blog and it's obvious from that how mistrustful you are!! "
lostsouls24.blogspot.co.uk

I managed through wracking sobs and hyper ventilation to explain my current phone phobia and dislike of answering or making calls as it tends to cause panic attacks. They agreed to email me in the future. The conference rounded up by deciding I should see a psychologist or a psychiatrist but they were not sure which.

The following day I had an email from the welfare department with the name of a psychologist and a telephone number to call to make myself an appointment! Oh how ironic I thought!

I have now had three whole days help from Debbie Banks via Save Our Soldier and the force have changed their minds about the psychologist referral, asking that I now see a psychiatrist instead but I've yet to get an appointment through the post.

I visited the FMO/OH again last week supposedly to top and tail the psych. referral but she apparently should have gotten my written consent and didn't. I have since done that.

I have now been off sick for 6 months. Luckily my half pay date of 20th June 2017 has been extended by the Chief by three months until 20th September 2017.

I have also had a letter through telling me my job has been abolished through restructuring and when I return I'll need to find a new role.

In 2002 I was in a DS post investigating Operation Ore and child abuse images, a CID post when my CI started sexually harassing me. As a result of 'Ore' we were having to spend a lot of time together and his harassment together with the material we were dealing with pushed me over the edge. I put in a complaint about the CI and the force settled outside of an IT accepting it had all happened. I received a financial pay out.
I would love to see the files on this and my statement etc as my memory of it all is pretty poor. I seemed to have erased a lot of it. Speaking up sabotaged my CID career and I never worked on the dept. again. I was side-lined into uniform briefly and then CID training.

In 2005 upon the birth of my daughter I took a five year career break returning in 2010 to a uniform post before being posted to HQ to work on Complaints & Misconduct from where I am now 'technically' sick.

In 2011 I attended my personal safety training whereby a 'new' technique was being trialled unofficially. The backwards fall manoeuvre led to me smashing my head on the floor and getting a whiplash injury that perpetuated in awful headaches for two years. The federation pursued the force for this incident as several officers were injured at the same time and we all received a pay-out for that too.

I want to leave on ill health but my fed rep thinks it too difficult to achieve before my possible 25 year retirement marker in May 2019. My 30 year marker would be May 2024.

Debbie and I concur that returning to the police would be utterly toxic to my mental health and the knock on to my Fibromyalgia cannot be underestimated.

So here I am as of 19/6/17 awaiting a psychiatrist appointment.

...to be continued...

New Beginnings - Day One of Therapy

I think I may have turned a corner today.

Debbie, a life coach provided by Save Our Soldiers Charity (see previous blog for links etc.) came to my home and worked with me all day.

Right now I'm physically knackered, mentally numbed in some respects but happy not to feel so anxious for the time being. For the first time in forever I think there may well be a less grumpy, entirely capable woman lurking in the depths of my psyche waiting for Debbie to dig out bit by bit.

I believe I started the day off from a point of view scepticism because I have felt so unwell and burdened for so long that I found myself backed into a corner so far that I could barely see anything.

My first impressions of people always count for a lot and the minute I laid eyes on Debbie I felt less concerned, less in fear of being dominated for the day. I kind of expected a matriarchal female to arrive in a business like manner ready to sort me out, but instead I found a grounded, incredibly clever educated woman with boundless compassion and immense kindness sitting in my lounge. The fact she was a dog lover and brought 'Dave' the Dachshund with her helped immensely, but then I suspect she knew that anyway and planned it that way.

Debbie is intuitive, happy to listen to boundless amounts of inane brain ramblings and clearly exceptionally talented at what she does.

I found some of her techniques a little 'hippy' like but they appear to have reaped results as I'm feeling like my shoulders aren't up around my ears for starters. Debbie used a technique that I think she referred to as REM, or it worked by accessing the brains processing area like we do naturally during our REM sleep processes. It re-orders and asks the brain to process information in a different way, thus learning to associate and desensitise the brain against anxious things, bad memories and instead link these memories with more calming pleasurable things. (Sorry Debbie if that description is pants!!)

I do feel a little like Mr Ben tonight, like I have walked into that shop, entered a cubicle and then walked out the other side, still me but slightly different!

As I was driving to get Ellie, baby bear,  I felt like I had, had an MOT and service!

What I am trying to convey to you is the feeling you get when you collect you car after it has had a service. Yes it is the same old car but it feels tweaked, brakes more responsive, handbrake tighter, water bottle for the windscreen full of the good blue stuff.

So I feel tweaked, serviced!!

I feel like an enhanced version of myself, or at least the chrysalis of the beautiful butterfly I can become with work and dedication to getting myself well again.

Day Two tomorrow... so standby for the next instalment!!!

Finding your own support for #MH

Enough campaigning blogs for now... so back to me.

I am feeling somewhat more useless than normal. The days are evaporating like quality street from the tin at Christmas and very little is changing. What am I supposed to be doing? How does one recover from a mental illness?

Despite the physical pain from my fibromyalgia I'm walking several miles a day. The physical pain seems to mask the psychological misery somewhat and I enjoy the thinking time too.

If my experience over the last two years has taught me anything though, it is that mental health is a little like having an addiction. What? Give over, you say...!! I can hear your confusion from here!  

Let me explain my theory, addictions creep up on you but are often visible to loved ones long before yourself, the same thing occurs with mental illness and depression especially. Tackling the issue of your addiction/mental illness is nigh impossible until the sufferer looks in the mirror and sees themselves for what they have become. Especially true in relation to your mental health. Until you can look in that mirror and see the real you, not the fake you, then you cannot possibly hope to start working towards a better state of mind. I happen to think that once you have suffered from a mental illness then it will always be with you, you may learn coping strategies, use mindfulness, undergo counselling, yoga etc. but essentially in my opinion/experience you will still always have your mental illness wrapped away in your coping parcel, much like a pass the parcel gift, but this one is safely tucked away in the corner of your mind. How well your mental health is from day to day, month to month, may well depend on how many layers of paper get ripped off your parcel by any given set of circumstances.

Mental Health does fluctuate, it is not a rigid thing, some days are good, some are bad. Some days the sun shines and some days it does not. Sometimes there is root cause, sometimes there is no explanation for the darkness but the fluidity of mental health is perhaps one of the most difficult aspects to grasp, especially for those around us.  When the black dog comes bounding our way, knocking us over before ripping off those last layers of paper from our coping parcels you have no choice but to accept it. There is no choice about mental health, I do not choose to me a miserable cow, the darkness descends, the world seems evil, there is no hope, everything is pointless and I'm instantly the biggest waste of space around. The following day however I can feel carefree, happy go lucky, talented, excited for the future and mildly content with my lot. There is no on and off button, the cards get dealt and you have to play the hand life gives you. Some days its a good hand, others its shockingly crap and can only mean defeat.

So perhaps if I look in the mirror what do I see at the moment..

Well I'm still broken, I accept I have depression, anxiety and have a Fibromyalgia diagnosis. The reality of that is being anxious continually, waiting for the inevitable bad thing to happen. I don't know what it is but if you live with anxiety there is always a prickle at the back of my neck warning me that danger is close. Anxiety means I live in a permanent state of crisis, the door gets knocked and my heart races, adrenaline starts to pump, I become breathless, my head spins, my neck stiffens and panic takes hold. Why you ask? Who knows?! Wish I did!
Telephone calls freak me right out, I've mentioned it before but dear lord they make me feel so ill. The phone rings and in that split second my heart feels like it is going to leap out of my chest, I feel like running and hiding. I don't of course but telephones currently make me cry.

So am I making any progress? Well I have got the diagnosis since being off sick, I have a referral to the pain clinic, and then my big news...

Last week whilst sat on my sofa crying again, (I need shares in a tissue company) I realised that no one was coming to help me. I think I had expected somebody to take charge and tell me what I needed to do but they hadn't arrived. With no partner to help, no family interested in helping I have to dig myself out of the pit and that's no mean feat let me tell you. It's taken nearly three months of psychological, and physiological pain to find the courage and mental stamina to ask for help. Thankfully it has all been done by email.

I had been recommended a charity that dealt with police officers suffering from PTSD.  The founder's husband suffered with PTSD from his police service and Claire had helped him through it. She's an expert at police rules and regulations these days and offers support o any police officer and/or their families. So having been told about her by a twitter buddy (one of my make believe friends, in joke with my tweeps!)  I went to her charities Safe Horizons UK web site and filled in their on line enquiry form and with a shaking hand and tears rolling down my face I hit the send key.

Within 30 minutes Claire McDowall herself had sent me a lovely email, the tears didn't stop running down my face but I knew I had made the right decision to ask for help. We emailed a little before she thought I needed help from a partner charity called Save Our Soldiers and she put me in touch with them. The Save Our Soldiers web site runs an online chat session with people asking for help, so I chatted to Daniel and he asked about my needs, requirements, problems. It was much like a Messenger conversation in format and speed. Daniel explained that they had counsellors and coaches nationwide who helped with PTSD and he told me he would source one for me locally and come back to me by email as I requested.
Now after that session I sat back feeling I had achieved a lot. I was quite stunned by people offering help so readily, but little did I know that my new coach would be in touch within another 30 minutes...wow!

Debbie Banks made contact offering me her services, asking me how she could help.
Well my gast was well and truly flabbered! All that amazing help and support within hours of asking for it. This is what the police service should be doing for its officers and staff. I have been off sick for nearly three months, in that time I have had a summons twice to attend an occupational health assessment, twice for a case conference to discuss how to get me back to work (well once I didn't attend the first one arranged), and the welfare department contacted me today asking what they could do to help.

Debbie has been in contact regularly since then and is actually coming up to Dorset for two whole days to help me...
Not an hour session every six weeks like Steps2Wellbeing or other counsellors I have encountered but she is travelling to Dorset for two whole days  to work with me. No one has ever done that for me, not even family.
I'm scared to death of it, don't get me wrong, but despite wanting to cancel it, or run away from it, I do know my future depends on sorting out my head.

My last piece of current affairs information is that I have my works case conference on Thursday afternoon, 23/3/17, where they'll be discussing how to get me back to work. Looking forward to that one lots as you can imagine!

That's all for now my fellow black dog cops.

Attention all cops... please RT and read

Dear Colleague,

Do you suffer with depression and anxiety?

Do you have any mental illness that affects you on a day to day basis?

No you answer all too quickly?!

Who me?! You think, no of course not, how could I,  I'm a cop, we deal with the nutters don't we? how could I possibly be one?!

BUT - Do you get angry unexpectedly? Or do things make you cry out of the blue? Perhaps you find yourself sat staring off in to space for no particular reason? Are you feeling frazzled, over loaded? Does your head ache more than most? Do you suffer from fatigue regardless of how much sleep you have had? Is your workload getting you down? Is it a psychological burden to you, something you're fretting about day in and day out. Do you wake up and immediately consider the outstanding jobs you have? Is your brain slower than normal, foggy, forgetful? Do you feel numb to things and spaced out? Do you question your ability and have low self esteem? Maybe you have unexplained aches and pains? And the future is bleak right?

If you answered yes to any of these things, then potentially you could have mental illnesses like depression and or anxiety and you need help because trust me it doesn't solve itself.

Have you declared any of these things to your supervision? I suspect the answer is no, but if you have what was the response?

Probably oh dear never mind, do the best you can!

Or sshhh... best to keep those thoughts to yourself, you don't want to sully your career with suggestions of instability or mental health issues do you?!

Or perhaps... you may have to move roles if you start talking like that!?

Or, that will affect your promotion chances you know...!

I know these things because officers responding to this blog have told me these exact stories.

I too have experienced all these things to some degree because I am a serving police officer too and I have depression, anxiety and fibromyalgia and I am currently off sick.

I have been off sick since Christmas 2016 and my force have been unable to offer me any real support. What I need is a psychiatric intervention, counselling, mental health support which is fairly obvious really! What I get though is referrals to occupational health, summonses to case conferences and silence.

There is a stigma currently attached to mental illness in the police service and it is high time this was changed. I understand why you keep quiet, why you hide your illness under your hats, why you hide behind your uniforms and bury your heads in your massive piles of paperwork... HOWEVER

There comes a time when people, cops, we have to stand up and be counted. Will you help with that?

Change will not start itself,  it needs pushing along.

I can shout and shout but me in isolation will not change things,

I need you to be brave, grasp the nettle and shout very loudly about your mental health.

HONESTY IS THE KEY TO FIGHTING THE STIGMA

Not only will that help the cause but yourself too.

You need to be able to look in the mirror and see yourself, not the fake, puffed out chest, I can cope with anything cop version, but you the gentle caring person you were before stress and anxiety ravaged you.

Peer support groups in every force need to become the norm. Access to psychiatric help within days needs to be the norm. Let's break down the STIGMA....NOW...

Acceptance of mental illness without the stigma is vital to a modern police service surviving.

Without change the future is bleak,staffing numbers are falling and work loads are increasing so more and more officers will need support and guidance not the current wall of silence and ignorance.

Will you stand tall and join my Black Dog Cops Pack?

We can make a difference for ourselves and others.

#MENTAL HEALTH MATTERS

A tearfully bad day ...

Okay today is a bad day, tears streaming down my face, feeling hopeless and dark.

 'Shaking and blubbing like a baby'

Despite my blogging and shouting on social media I have yet to pluck up the courage to look for help. I had convinced myself that like the last time this happened two years ago that I could do this on my own but it's looking very much like I can't. Some days I can be quite balanced and strong, others just pathetically weak and weepy. Today is the later ...

I've been off sick since Christmas and haven't really been out much since then. Well I have ferried my daughter around, had a couple of meals out and tackled some medical appointments but what I like to do most is sit in the house with the curtains drawn so the world can't get to me. An old friend caught me out walking the dogs yesterday and suggested he pop around for a coffee, he drove off leaving me thinking he'd be around at my house soon. Well I panicked wholeheartedly and text him very quickly saying I had an appointment and could we do it some other time. I raced home, pulled the curtains, locked the doors and hid upstairs until he'd answered 'never mind'.

I do not want to face people, talking, noise, movement, just about anything really that isn't encapsulated inside my own little world inside these four walls.

I've lost what I thought were good friends because of my sociable ineptitude, well I guess they weren't worth worrying about if they got the hump about their damaged feelings because I hadn't been out recently or when they told me my mental health was irrelevant but it has still hurt me to know they weren't the people I thought they were. Needless to say my anxiety has risen its ugly head and blamed me for it, so I've been battering myself about it for two weeks, getting in a right state whenever I have to go near these silly people. I have to put myself first now though so I need to try and not be bothered about their hurt feelings and instead deal with my own.

This morning whilst answering a random tweet I suddenly realised as I burst in top tears yet again that I really don't have this 'episode' under control. I'm a wreck masquerading as an astute adult.

What I needed back at the start was someone to book me an appointment with a psychologist and just take me there! To assume a mentally ill person is capable of arranging their own treatment is a big ask if |I am any example to go by!

Plus I have a phobia of telephones, do not ask me why because I don't know - well I guess if I was to get all Freudian I would say it was probably because my Mother and I last spoke to each other 15 years ago over the telephone. On that occasion she was abusive, putrid and downright rude to me before disowning me for refusing to divorce my Father at the same time as she did! We've not spoken or seen each other since. She has only met my eleven year old daughter, baby bear, on one fluke occasion. Some Grandmother hey?!
So I suspect it is that, but knowing does not help me escape from the fear that grips me, or the tears that flow when the telephone rings or I know I have to make a call.

The other thing I have stupidly been forcing myself to do is walk endless miles. My poor little dogs are exhausted!! They've only little legs which are getting shorter every day!! Why is that a bad thing I hear you ask? The Fibromyalgia diagnosis means alongside my many symptoms I have significant joint pain daily and that's before any exercise, as such I have been advised to exercise little and often.  But something inside me feels driven to try and walk it off, the #FunnyFibro that is or perhaps its my attempt drive out the depression?  Maybe it is the later because if I'm hurting myself physically and I'm exhausted I won't have to face or deal with my feelings of hopelessness, being ugly or feeling like a waste of space will I? I did 5 miles yesterday and my right knee joint is now swollen so that it looks like the knee cap is actually a melon, plus the numbness is back and my foot keeps going dead! The dogs are still exhausted today, as am I to be honest!

The odd thing is when I meet someone out walking or have to face people I can still just about summon the cop genie! What an earth does she mean I hear you shout?! Those that suffer with depression or have done in the past know exactly what I am about to type don't you? The veil we can hide behind, the doppelganger we can swap with?

The cop genie fights off the black dog and brings me a professional face, an articulate voice and makes me sound like I know what I'm talking about!

I even have an invisible uniform and public order shield!  I can jump back into that old skin and convince the world that I have this down and I'm coping absolutely fine! That time span however is dependant on how well you are feeling mentally... The genie can be summoned for varying time spans, for instance until I fell off the magic carpet at Christmas (went sick/got ill!)  I could summon the cop genie for almost eight hour stints barring a little blubbing in the toilets here and there.

But the more poorly I get the less able I am to find the magic required to summon or sustain the cop genie and the black dog invades my mind. When the cop genie is beaten by the black dog I'm left with the hollow husk of a drained and broken human being flailing around unsure of herself ,wracked with anxiety and self doubt. Unable to cope, unable to do anything other than blunder around, shout at people, get cross, cry, sit staring into space, or typing a blog entry!

I managed to summon the cop genie this morning for a few minutes just to send an email to the charity Safe Horizons UK asking for help. I'm not sure what help I'm asking for, I'm not sure they can help me, but I have extended an arm, reached out to them anyways.

Plus I've written this today so all is not lost!

Despite all of this, or perhaps because of all this, I am still determined to bring together suffering cops into my Black Dog Pack. If only for you to feel united, not alone and that someone 'gets' what it is you are feeling. I know the trials of living with depression and anxiety in todays police service, which sadly, is still mostly riddled with stigma against mental illness.

I have been considering getting some Black Dog Cop bracelets made up, so that we can all wear them, then we could know each other show and share experiences and support one another. Non-sufferers have also shown an interest in that they would like to show support for our struggles and even indicate themselves as a 'safe' person with whom you could confide and talk.

Let me know your thoughts @BeachHutBabe24

MH STIGMA & FIBROMYALGIA

So a week has passed since my last blog and I thought it worth bringing the situation up to date if only for my own sanity and remembrance in the days that follow.

Plus a lot of you will only know me for discussing depression and anxiety and I wanted to clarify how this recent diagnosis fits into my jigsaw puzzle.

On Monday I had an appointment to see a rheumatologist as I had happened to mention upon my last GP visit to get signed off with depression/anxiety about my aching joints and some of my other symptoms. This was done as an aside to and diversion away from discussing my depression at the time! I have said before on previous blogs that discussing my madness is a horrid experience that makes me squirm in my seat, I feel like I need to fold myself in on myself to escape from the overwhelming waves of embarrassment. It couldn't be any worse if I was sat there naked!

I digress, ... again!

Anyway for the past two years I have suffered with what can only be described as a plethora of physical symptoms. After the first few months they left my GP sat looking at me with a blank expression on his face if I dared mention anything more to him.  He glazed over with boredom at my repeated moaning after numerous dead end consultant appointments!! It did start to look like I was a hypochondriac even to myself!

Two years ago he had taken me seriously initially packing me off in an ambulance thinking I had a subarachnoid bleed after I had repeatedly complained of horrific headaches and sensitivity to light.   A day in hospital, a CT scan and a lumbar puncture all discounted any illness and I got the feeling I had a back mark placed against my name as a malingerer.

Then he referred me to a neurologist to see if he could help with my headaches So I waited months for an appointment then on the day in question, he, the consultant, told me I was on too much medication and that was why I was having headaches. sadly I had a Victor Meldrew type reaction to this news

'I don't believe it'

I may have said words to that effect, but my anxiety kicked in and I cried tears of utter frustration then upped and left leaving him opening and closing his mouth like goldfish!

Then there was another visit to the force FMO when he noticed a lump in my neck, so back to the GP I went. X-Rays and an ultra sound later I'm told I do have cervical spondylitis in my neck to match my bulging discs at L4 & L5 in my back but its just one of those things that comes with age.

Then there were the episodes of my heart racing and me getting all hot and sweaty for no apparent reason. Back I went. Blood tests revealed a lack of iron but no hormone imbalances or menopausal indicators.

My eyes got very dry and itchy and thinking I had an eye infection, off I went. 'No all normal' the GP says. Urghh!

I happened to mention at a regular medication consultation that my weight was ballooning and despite trying all the normal tricks to drop some weight nothing was shifting. We discussed the surgery I had previously had for a hiatal hernia some ten years before, the fact I was experiencing feelings of nausea fairly regularly and he wondered perhaps if the acid reflux might be affecting my digestion so once AGAIN off I went to another consultant. The acid was in fact burning my oesophagus a little and I was put back on Omeprazole.

Then there was the urge to go to  he toilet which started getting very urgent and much too frequent. So off I toddled to the GP. A wee dip did show an infection up initially but subsequent visits for the same thing revealed nothing.

By now I feeling like a marked woman, paranoia probably but to have had so many things going on and to mostly keep getting knocked back that they were nonsense I myself was even beginning to think I was creating these things just to cover up for my depression and anxiety. I knew how much a physical problem would have eased my psychological suffering, to have something without stigma to cling on to, that would explain why I was feeling so lousy would have been great. So the more I reflected the more I thought all the things I was experiencing must be manifestations of my madness so I should stop discussing them.

I sensed other people thought that too, so I mostly clammed up keeping quiet about the majority of my physical  troubles. Although the fatigue was difficult to cover up,  when you're arriving at work at 0900 hours knackered, yawning, sitting in front of a computer struggling to keep my eyes open people tend to notice. I struggled with fatigue really badly and I am not sure how I never crashed or fell asleep driving home.

Anyways, other than that for two years I put up with the horrific migraine strength headaches, the dry eye problems, bad sleep experiences constantly, dizziness, poor memory, anxiety, depression, weight gain, flu like symptoms, multiple joint pain and stiffness, nausea, urination problems, a clunking jaw, dysmenorrhea like nothing I had ever felt before.

Just feeling permanently like crap yet all the time whilst wholly blaming my anxiety and depression,  keeping quiet about the rest for fear of sounding stupid or obsessed or worse even madder!

Finally my hands started to swell and ache too and this was the final straw for me as I could barely type, I couldn't manage simple motor functions and life was getting embarrassing not even feeling confident to hold a full mug of drink fearing I would drop it. So it was this that made me pluck up the courage to speak to the GP again after months of keeping quiet about everything except the depression.

He referred me!! AGAIN!!

So that was what happened this Monday, I went to my rheumatology appointment. It was like breathing fresh air after being confined in a low oxygen environment for a long time. The relief was palpable as she asked me about all the things I had felt it necessary not to talk about for so long.

I could admit to her that I forget where I park my car! That my eyes crust up every few hours and need bathing, that I can barely walk up hills, or get into the bath for the stiffness in my joints. I could tell her about getting stuck in a field because my stupid body couldn't climb over a small five bar fence and that I lie awake at night aching all over. Relief on so many levels.

She examined me too, an ancient skill it would seem these days as few of the medics have actually dared to lay hands on me. Not once in two years as my GP touched me, well other than for a BP check!

When she reached her conclusion I was both relieved and a little apprehensive all at the same time.

Fibromyalgia?

She explained that I was a classic case, I ticked 16/18 boxed needed for a diagnosis. It was like playing fibromyalgia bingo marking off all my symptoms! Finally I felt vindicated, finally I knew it wasn't all down to the depression and anxiety. Finally I knew it wasn't all the madness!

There is still along road to travel, that I know. My pain needs addressing as I have put up with it for so long and there is no cure, so it's listed as a chronic disorder. Where that leaves me for the future as a police officer I do not know.

With my back/disc issues, my stomach problems, my depression/anxiety and now this I feel pretty useless. I was lost enough mentally but now I have had it confirmed I'm physically malfunctioning on so many levels it feels like a huge undertaking to get myself anywhere fit enough to get back to work.

My depression and anxiety are still prevalent, clearly they are not going to evaporate, but knowing all this pain is not in my head too has helped me a lot. I feel less burdened, less troubled in some ways.

I am still driven to try and change the way serving officers are treated who admit to suffering with depression or any mental illness. I have had so many wonderful people contact me since I started blabbing about my troubles, I have been overwhelmed with support and the tales of 'me too'.

BUT and it is a big BUT, listen up command team members, 75% of the serving officers contacting me and believe me I have had many, do so by a DM on twitter. Why are they happy to talk to me openly? Well they are only confident to do so because twitter is anonymous. Take that bosses. You have numerous officers out there suffering who do not say a word,

... yet ...

for the day will come when they can tread the thin blue line no longer for the burden of their troubles will become too heavy.

They are scared to talk because of the stigma  against MH in the police service, because of the fear of losing their roles, for fear of being marked as unsuitable for future promotion or specialisms for fear of losing themselves.

I do not know them, they do not know me yet they admit these things to me,  they have not told their forces or their supervision, some haven't even told their loved ones, some are even thinking of leaving the service altogether as opposed to telling anyone?

Seriously? Are you content with that? Things are seriously messed up out there on the ground if someone would rather walk away from their career as opposed to telling someone that they are suffering with depression?

I do think mental health is a bit like a religion, you either 'get it' or you don't. I have referred to people who don't 'get it' before in previous blogs as non believers and I truly think (know) that there are many in positions of rank out there.

They, much like I cannot get my head around GOD, cannot get theirs around MH.
People believing in something they have never seen/cannot prove means that I have chosen to be non religious, however non believers feel the same way about MH, they simply do not believe it is a reality.

I have a very good friend who supported me two years ago when I was poorly. Back then she was a non believer, she would say things like, 'look on the bright side' or 'I'll be there to help it'll be fine' or 'pull yourself together' All were said with love but came from a view point of a non believer. Now she is in a relationship with a MH sufferer and her whole demeanour towards my mental health has changed. She no longer thinks I can just snap out of it, she no longer tells me that I am a confident capable woman so therefore get on with it. But the point I make is that it takes a significant experience to change a non believer into a believer it is not something you can just decide to change.

I'm not sure where that leaves us but I do feel that much as sexism was outlawed overtly, despite the fact that sexist pigs do still roam the corridors, at least they have to do so now subversively, do it on the QT.  I think Mental Health will have to be treated the same way. Add it to the Standards of Professional Behaviour as a perquisite for professionals in a professional police service.

It has to be the way forward and it has to be front, centre and bang in the middle of discussions with new recruits throughout their training then like sexism has changed so will attitudes to mental health.

Bring back force counsellors, make them a yearly necessity, plus refer officers who have dealt with certain incident types to them. Bobs your uncle, fannies your aunt... it is somewhere to start.

Give returning officers from MH illnesses a buddy, much like addicts get help through life. A sponsor, someone who does 'get it' to guide them and chat regularly.

These things need to happen to see change...in my humble opinion because...

Mental Health Matters