babblingbandit.me: breakdown

My story

It was the last weekend of November 2007.

I was not ok.

It was six months since I'd been a victim of a crime that would change me forever.

I was not ok.

It was five months since I'd moved back to Sydney from my life living overseas for several years and my old friends here were all doing different things and I didn’t want to burden them.

I was not ok.

It was five months since I had gotten out of hospital after being treated for depression, post traumatic stress disorder and poly-substance abuse.

I was not ok.

It was five months of living sober for the first time in my life and having to deal with the raw emotion, the flashbacks, the fear, the disgust, the desperation, the sadness, and the sense of responsibility that I'd been the key player in the destruction of my soul.

I was not ok.

It was Sunday the 25th of November 2007 and I was in such a deep dark hole that I thought I'd never ever get out of.

And when my family asked if I was ok, I lied.

I crawled into bed with a bottle of wine and music up loud. A stack of strong sleeping tablets all pushed out of their blister packs and spread over the doona.

I cried. And I cried. And I screamed...

I AM NOT OK!

But then I went to my family doctor. I spent some time in hospital. I spoke to people.

And I started to feel a little less not ok.

I got involved with outpatient programs at a very good psychiatric facility and I kept speaking to people.

And I started to feel a bit ok.

I continue to speak to my psychiatrist every week. I speak to my family every day. I hold my three year old son in my arms, and I know…

Nearly five years later, I am more than ok.

With the help of my amazing network of family, friends and healthcare professionals I have come through to the other side.

Who will you ask today?

RUOK?

And please don’t forget: It is OK to say, “I’m not OK”.

For help please use these helpful resources:

Call: 1800 RUOKDAY (1800 7865 329) to connect with crisis lines

Visit: your doctor, a counsellor or trusted healthcare professional

Access: ruokday.com for tips from their information partners

Lifeline 13 11 14
Suicide Call Back Service 1300 659 467

Noo and I are now at the tail end of our ten day break in the Blue Mountains. It has been wonderful to hang out with Yolanda, my sister, and her seven month old daughter Mala, as well as to catch up with old friends.

We've had great days chilling at home as well as some fun day trips around the Mountains. The weather has been perfect: cool, crisp days with blue skies and sunshine. There's been lots of good food both cooked at home and eaten out. And with only one day of anxiety it really has been a relaxing week away.

Today: a perfect sunny Blue Mountains winters day

The part of the Blue Mountains where my parents reside is nestled about 10km west of the main road from Sydney. It is really quiet here. There are no cafes or tacky souvenir shops. No playgrounds or tourist buses. Just a fire station and a post box serve the residents who are surrounded by the most beautiful Australian bushland. The road leading in is a tree-lined avenue that is as stunning this time of year as it is in spring and almost as beautiful in winter as it is when the leaves change colour for autumn.

My sister and I know how lucky we are to have this place as a sanctuary. A place to escape to when city life gets too much. I used to come here, before Noo was born, before my years in London, to recuperate from a hectic life of working and partying. There is no mobile network here but back in the mid 1990s to early 2000s we didn't have internet either. We were completely cut off. With fresh air and lots of good food, this was the perfect place to detox, like a mini weekend rehab.

In the months after leaving Noo's father I spent a large part of my pregnancy up here, away from the dramas at home. After my breakdown, subsequent hospitalisations and sojourn to rock bottom I lost a lot of my usual support network. The general response to the news I was pregnant was negative. Most of my friends thought I wouldn't cope, that it was unfair on the unborn child. People didn't know how to be around me. And I don't blame them. I was a mess.

I spent the first trimester of my pregnancy in very little contact with my family or friends (the period which will be the third instalment of the "The dad question"). When I finally did leave Noo's father I I had an enormous amount of work to do to mend the very damaged relationships I had with those closest to me. My relationship with my sister was one that was hurt the most. She had borne the weight of my declining mental health and increasing addictions since well before my return from London. She was tired and needed to be free of my shit for a while. It was hard. Horrible actually. But that is another story.

During the second and third trimesters I wasn't working so I spent most of my time with my parents. Actually, I did attempt a return to work but the anxiety attacks became daily again and I wasn't sleeping so I didn't last very long before I was taking early maternity leave.

Despite the hardships they'd endured during the year previous my parents were still there for me. They helped me build a home for me and Noo in a little apartment I found in the inner south west of Sydney. I also stayed with them up here in the Blue Mountains quite a bit. It was so relaxing. Mum and I would spend hours and hours every day talking about my pregnancy and Noo's impending arrival.

There have been times too when I've hated it here. Hated the seclusion, the heat in summer and the bugs! But mostly I've loved it, but only as a place to visit. Which gets me back to today. Our last night after a long week away.

The sun setting over the valley for the last time while we're here this trip

And I am so looking forward to going home! I love the city. The buzz and the hustle and bustle. The people and beeping horns. The tall buildings, the Harbour and the cappuccinos. The city workers, the inner city mums and kids at the park. Friends and daycare! My bed and my desk so I can get into a better routine to blog.

Yes, I am ready to go home.