Mental Health

Quarantine Concerns : How to Deal With Negative Emotions

Since the rise of COVID the majority of us have been lucky enough to have a home allowing us to continue living a normal and healthy life during this trying time. However as the days pass we find ourselves, more often than not, alone with our own thoughts which can sometimes lead us to experience negative emotions in a more intense and heightened fashion.

Having suffered low moods on and off for some time, the lockdown has proven to be quite difficult without the usual distractions of going out, attending lectures and meeting friends. During pre-lockdown times, this would have been sufficient means to increase levels of dopamine and keep me going or even avoid dealing with an underlying negative mood. It can worsen to the point that “normal lockdown-activities” are no longer as enjoyable as they initially were such as baking, organising, studying and zoom calls with friends. The lack of a normal pre-lockdown life also means that there is less encouragement to leave your bed in the mornings and resume a productive routine. And so begins the cycle. The lack of productivity will reinforce these negative thoughts and emotions. Levels of self-doubt will sky rocket, eventually forcing you into feeling quite helpless.

As always, when there’s dark cloud glooming over us, we should attempt to find a silver-lining of sorts. Experiencing our emotions constantly and intensely may be quite new to some of us, but at least we’re finally acknowledging them and taking the first step towards our healing. Though we have a lack of control over how we may feel on a day to day basis, we can still control how we respond to those emotions.

When things are getting quite tough, be kind to yourself as you would be to a friend or family member. Congratulate yourself on the small things like waking up, taking a shower or just simply getting through the day. It’s important to be mindful to about how you are doing on a daily basis and treat yourself accordingly. Not every day has to be 100% productive but everyday could  involve at least one task of self-care. These tasks don’t have to complex or expensive, it can simply be taking a well-deserved midday nap!

The one kind thing you do for yourself today could lead you to feel just that much more loved than you were feeling this morning. Be loving and affectionate with yourself – not just to carry you through quarantine, but because you deserve it.

Hang in there folks.

With Love,

Arya x

Medical school, Medicine, Mental Health, Relationships

Why I Stopped Writing

For the few followers of my blog, all of whom I am incredibly grateful for – you may have noticed that I stopped writing for almost 3 months. You may also be wondering why. When I started this blog, I aimed to write something at least every week, and I think I did pretty well (apart from the time I was severely unwell and overdosed). Writing has always been a great way for me to de-clutter my thoughts, rationalise my ideas and to release some emotion whilst attempting to help somebody out there. Before my blog, I wrote in my diary almost religiously from the age of about 10, and it did wonders to help me deal with a lot of things I was experiencing. But from time to time, I lose momentum and stop writing for months at a time.

The main reason I usually do that is because I want to do all I can to run away from my thoughts and feelings, rather than try to understand them. We’ve all probably experienced it – it’s when you have so much on your plate that even thinking about a problem, or facing an issue becomes too emotionally draining. Rather than feeling relieved, I start to feel extremely upset. So that turns me away from writing and I go into my “pretend-everything-is-fine” mode. There are pros and cons of this of course. On the one hand, I am able to give myself a false sense of security that everything is fine when it is in fact very far from fine. But on the other hand, pushing things to the back of your mind also causes it to build up slowly over time, until you eventually burst. That part isn’t really too fun.

Also, for the past few months, life happened – I had all my exams to do but with zero concentration and hypersomnia (excessive sleeping) as side effects of my medication; family troubles; financial struggles; friendship struggles; rejections from job interviews; yet another rejection from a romantic interest (I might tell you about these one day, should you be interested); my rejections of romantic interests in me (life is funny) – you name it. Everything happened at once. And obviously that meant my mental health was at an all time low again with my anxiety levels sky high and the return of suicidal thoughts. Wa-hey.

However, I can happily say that some of those things mentioned above have improved since. For example, I somehow managed to pass third year and am going into my fourth year of medical school in a few months’ time (yay!). Also, amongst the thousands of rejections, I did manage to find a short part-time job to give me a financial boost. And my anxiety levels are generally lower, though I’m still struggling with them immensely even now that most of the external factors are gone.

It has literally taken me 3 weeks to convert my thought of wanting to write again, to actually writing again, despite having plenty of time to do so. So you can imagine to what extent my motivation is lacking. I’ve also become very bad at remembering to take my medication which really messes me up because I keep switching from insomnia to hypersomnia and also gives me nightmares. My moods are also all over the place. It’s all a bit dishevelled really but I’m hoping that this will all change with a bit of positive thinking.

Here’s to mental health and writing.

 

Anxiety, Medical school, Mental Health, Relationships, Sexual abuse

Am I Overreacting?

Suffering from anxiety, I often have to take a step back and assess whether I am overreacting to a situation or if my worries are justified. And taking that step back is difficult because I usually don’t know if I am simply ‘reacting’ to a situation or if it would be classified as potentially overreacting. It’s a thin line, and not an easy one to distinguish. What makes it all the more difficult is that the act of overreacting is very subjective. What’s normal for one person, may not be so normal for another person. For me, I hate to be perceived as having overreacted to something, so I usually have to check in with the people around me.

It was a lot easier when I had the opportunity to discuss issues on a regular basis with my counsellor. She usually put things into perspective for me from a more objective viewpoint and that made it easier for me to know if I was overreacting or not.

Since having finished my counselling sessions, things are a lot more difficult as there isn’t just the one person I can check in with. Now, I usually have to ask my family and friends about their opinions on the situation, and I usually gather a range of different viewpoints and make my assessment. If the majority says that I am justified to react in a certain way, then I usually go with the majority and vice versa.

However, my fear of overreacting has led to situations where I possibly haven’t reacted enough. These situations normally involve reacting to behaviour that makes me uncomfortable. As you can read on a previous post, I had trouble dealing with sexual abuse as a child and my fear of falsely raising an alarm overrode my instinct to seek help. Similarly now, I have come across a few individuals over my time at medical school who have made me feel uncomfortable but I wasn’t sure if it was significant enough to raise an alarm. The last thing I want to be is ‘the boy who cried wolf’.

One of these individuals was an older medical student who made me feel uncomfortable within minutes of meeting him by displaying quite controlling and intense behaviour towards me. I felt uncomfortable as he summoned me with a beckoning gesture, after which he expressed his desire to marry soon; a desperate bachelor. The closeness with which he was standing next to me also made me very anxious, almost as if I was trapped. In my head, alarm bells were ringing but when I mentioned this individual with a few friends, some told me that there was no reason for me to be scared of him, whilst others asked me, “Why didn’t you just slap him around the face?” It’s in situations like these when I still struggle.

Another similar situation which occurred more recently involved somebody from my year who I met on my medical placement at hospital. He showed an interest in me, and we started joking with each other within a few hours of knowing each other. He ended up asking for my Facebook details, and after we parted that day, he immediately started messaging me on Facebook. A few messages in, he asked for my Snapchat, which I gave, but I got the feeling that he was moving a little fast, considering I had only met him that day. The messages then continued on Snapchat all the way until a good night message. The next time I met him, he ended up divulging very private details about himself and his family, which I would personally only divulge to someone when I trusted them implicitly, e.g. a very close friend. He started to make jokes that made me uncomfortable like saying he’d steal my duvet from my room when he felt cold at night, and so on. The messages continued and I felt quite overwhelmed at this point. I received a phone call from a relative and he was still messaging me but I didn’t reply. After I finished the phone call, I saw that he’d already started apologising to me for unintentionally doing something wrong as I hadn’t been replying. I was a bit surprised, but still unsure whether this was all normal. I talked about this to a few friends. Some of my friends joked about it, saying he was clearly seeking more than friendship, but my best friend got worried and told me to be careful in case he was a stalker. This definitely made me anxious. I contacted another friend, telling him about the situation and that I was starting to feel creeped out, and when I told him who it was, my friend laughed it off and said I didn’t need to worry as he was pretty sure the boy was gay. I felt a bit stupid at that point for making such a big fuss, but I don’t feel as if it was completely unjustified for me to have felt overwhelmed and scared.

So what have I learnt from all of this? It is definitely worth taking a step back to assess if you’re overreacting but at the same time, there’s nothing more reliable than our instincts. It’s always better to be safe than sorry, so the best thing to do is to react when your alarm bells are ringing. If you overreact, then you look stupid of course. But if you don’t overreact and things are as bad as they seem, the consequences may be even more grave unfortunately.

 

Anxiety, Mental Health, Reality, Relationships, Stress

Paranoia or Reality?

Most of these days, I am struggling to understand whether I am just feeling paranoid or if my suspicions are justified. It may be closely linked with my anxiety, and my constant fear of losing people around me but my question is, how do I know for sure if I’m right?

My paranoia has affected my friendships before, and on reflection, I feel I misinterpreted their preoccupation with their work for indifference towards me and I ended up confronting them accusingly which brought about a great deal of friction between us. When I discussed situations like these with my counsellor last year, she had advised me that if I feel suspicious, the best thing to do is to ask openly without letting the suspicion brew in my mind. So, for example, if my friend hasn’t answered my text in a while and I feel she is ignoring me, it might be worthwhile dropping her a message to say, “Hey, I haven’t heard back from you in a while, is everything ok?” Or even if that doesn’t solve it then something as direct as, “Hey, I’ve kind of got the feeling that you’ve been ignoring me – have I upset you somehow?” And in fact, doing this has helped to sort out my suspicions and worries. What’s helped more is being open with my friends about my paranoia and letting them know that I might have to ask them directly if we’re still ok, and they’ve all been extremely understanding about it.

However, my more recent difficulties have been with my parents. Sometimes I feel as if they are upset or angry with me and when I ask them directly, they pass it off as being busy or tired. Having always been especially close to my Mum, I often feel that she becomes a little cold with me. It could obviously be because she is stressed out, but I really just don’t know. I then feel as if she’s lying to me when I ask her directly about it, just to avoid confrontation.

Another constant suspicion I have is that my parents are talking about me behind my back. I’ve tried eavesdropping but I’ve never heard anything of that sort, but whenever I see them talking quietly to each other, I feel as if they’re saying things about me. It could be completely unfounded of course, but I can’t help but feel paranoid.

When I think about where these paranoias stem from psychologically, I feel as if they are strongly related to my low self-esteem and my desire to always please people around me, which makes it difficult for me to face criticism. Maybe, if I can work on these aspects a little more, the paranoia may weaken because it would simply not matter to me what people are thinking or saying about me. I’m not sure at this moment as to how I’m going to go about doing that, but it’s worth thinking about.

Mental Health, Pressure, Reality, Stigma

The Importance of Speaking Up

“Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about the things that matter” ~ Martin Luther King Junior

A lot of people become astounded by the courage I show in day-to-day situations, for example speaking up in front of a crowd, challenging a senior or asking the questions that everyone is too afraid to ask. There is of course always the right time to say or do things and too much courage may be overstepping into sheer foolishness, but more often than not, speaking your mind has countless positive effects.

Since being the bullied child at primary school, I have grown to appreciate the importance of speaking up against what I feel is wrong. Whether this means I am confronting my peers, friends, family or seniors, it makes no difference to me. It is imperative that we all stand for what we believe in and being too afraid to speak up for ourselves, or the people around us only makes us just as bad as the perpetrators for standing by and doing nothing to stop it. Of course, direct confrontation is not always the wisest way to approach situations, but something like writing a strong letter, taking part in protests or addressing petitions to the right people can make a big difference. People who prefer to suffer and are afraid to speak up often say that they would much rather ‘avoid conflict’ and cope with the situation. However, adapting to injustice never really solves the problem. Be it an issue in the workplace or challenges in personal relationships, having open conversations and asserting your viewpoint only increases one’s self-respect and demonstrates to others that they cannot get away with maltreating you.

Initially, the consequences of speaking up may well be negative and result in unfavourable situations in the meantime, but in the long-term, the results are completely  worth it. Dissonance, antagonisation, intimidation are some examples of the negative reactions to speaking up. It is important to plough through these temporary difficulties, keeping the main objective in mind, and before you know it, the positive changes will arrive.

Aside from the workplace, I also find it beneficial to be very upfront about my concerns in my personal relationships. Rather than spend long periods of time wondering what other people are thinking, I save myself the torture and pluck up the courage to just ask. Sure, the answer is not always what I like to hear, but on reflection, it really does help me to work forwards and solve any conflicts or misunderstandings.

What is more challenging however, is being assertive around the people closest to you. This is something that I had been struggling with for a while, especially with my own family members. I found it relatively easy to deal with people I was not so much emotionally attached to, but when it came to my parents, or my siblings, I found it difficult to voice my opinions and usually resorted to bending to their wishes. In the long-term it had an extremely negative effect on my well-being and satisfaction in life. Through counselling sessions, I was able to learn that there was a difference between being assertive and being confrontational and I was able to voice my opinions in such a way that I was simultaneously sensitive to the feelings of the people around me. It is a difficult skill to master but it has worked wonders for me.

I feel a lot more free being able to do the things I want whilst also not hurting the people around me. I feel as if I have greater control over my life, and you know what? I feel so much happier.

So speak up, and get your voices heard. You’ll be one step closer to changing things for the better.

Anxiety, Medical school, Mental Health, Sexual abuse, Stress

The Nightmares that Won’t Leave

For the past couple of years, I have been struggling with daily, vivid nightmares which have significantly reduced the quality of my life. Being a natural vivid dreamer, I am accustomed to seeing the odd nightmare once in a while, but I have been continuously battling my fears every night. For most people, nightmares are a thing of the past, something that they associate with childhood. Other people I’ve talked to tell me that when they do have the odd nightmare, it’s something like “falling down” from a height for example. That’s how it used to be for me, and life was a lot easier too that way.

Surprisingly enough, my nightmares have a lot of impact on my daily life. Especially because I remember every single one, and they are so life-like, that they could easily get confused for being memories instead. Some of my nightmares are situations that occur between myself and those close to me – ranging from an emotional and abusive argument to losing someone. Other nightmares involve really intense and frightening situations, for example watching a serial killer kill the people around me in the most disturbing ways (the images are very graphic and detailed in my head to add to the horrific gore) and me trying to escape being killed; I’ve dreamt several times of me being forced into marriages to unknown men by my parents; and just last night, I dreamt of being raped by two men who I didn’t know and being traumatised in the aftermath of the situation.

The thing is, I don’t really think about any of these things consciously during the day. Whilst they may be a reflection of my inner fears, to me they seem quite random. Almost every nightmare I have wakes me up drenched in sweat in the middle of the night and I find it difficult to fall asleep again because I end up remaining traumatised right after.

Recently, I’ve found a coping mechanism which has been to sleep with my Mum. I never thought it would work, but my Mum insisted so I tried it out, and I think that just having the reassurance that I have someone with me when I’m sleeping helps me to recover from any dreams, and sometimes even prevents me from having my nightmares. I’ve also now been told that I talk in my sleep, and it is usually a reflection of whatever nightmare I’m having.

The reason why I feel these nightmares affect the quality of my life is not only because of the content of these nightmares, but also because of the poor quality of sleep I get. My sleep is usually very broken and I often actually get very little as I am unable to fall asleep again. This adds to my fatigue during the day and triggers my migraines. Low energy also negatively affects my depression which worsens and brings on the suicidal thoughts again.

I have tried various sleeping pills which are fabulous for making me sleep (despite making me incredibly drowsy the next day), but I still see the nightmares. My doctors have told me that the cause is most probably my high anxiety levels, and this is something I am to be talking about during my CBT sessions in future.

For now, it’s a relief knowing that my nightmares are only dreams after all. When they’re not real, what’s the worst that can happen?

Anxiety, Medicine, Mental Health, Stigma

Am I Insane?

I ask myself over and over again, “Am I insane? Am I crazy? Am I unstable?” As strange as it sounds, I am haunted by myself. The thoughts that run like obsessions through my mind and my gradual estrangement from ‘normality’ make me question my sanity. I often scare myself so much so that I cower away in the corner of my room and keep repeating to myself prescriptively “I’m ok, I’m ok, I’m normal, I’m ok,” rocking back and forth as comfort, in my attempt to convince myself that I am not insane. Counterproductive? Maybe.

There are a few reasons why I often feel as if I’m going insane. The first has to be my constant struggles with suicidal thoughts. Every day, they creep up on me insidiously, especially when I am alone, and they keep getting stronger and stronger, until they develop into well-thought out plans. The temptation to implement the plans becomes unavoidable, and just as I am about to do it, I stop. I re-think and play devil’s advocate. I think about my family and friends. I think about the knock-on effects. I step back. Then it happens all over again, like a video on repeat.

The thoughts and planning tire me out so much, that I feel completely exhausted. It’s as if I am constantly fighting myself, and it takes its toll. It disrupts my normal concentration, I always feel drowsy and weak, and my motivation drops even more than it’s normally low level. Often after these episodes, when I just about avert the implementation of my suicidal ideation, I break down completely.

With severe depression and anxiety also comes increased irritability and mood swings. I often lash out at the people closest to me, for the smallest reasons. I may say some hurtful things without thinking, and I immediately regret doing so. I apologise, but we can never take our words back, and I feel even more angry at myself for being so incompetent. I just feel as if I am no longer in control of myself. I don’t know how I will react, I don’t know where my thoughts will take me, I can’t do anything that anyone expects of me, I can’t even predict if I’ll still be around a few hours later, or if I’ll end up taking my life before then.

Although not as bad as some sufferers, I have had brief episodes of auditory and visual psychosis in the past which terrified me and made me more convinced that I had essentially ‘gone mad’. It’s scary because sometimes I no longer know if something is real or if I’m just imagining it. This haunts me for sure.

What doesn’t help is also being made to feel alienated because of my mental health. I don’t like being branded or being treated differently, because it makes me feel abnormal. The stigma in society relating to mental health problems is what fuels this alienation. I am lucky to have friends who do their best to treat me like myself whilst being sensitive at the same time. It makes a massive difference to not be shunned but understood. But of course, not everyone is like that. My friends are all medical students which make them naturally compassionate and understanding compared to the rest of the population.

Today, I was at my Medical Ethics and Law lecture on the Mental Health Act 1983, and we were taught that patients with ‘mental disorders’, such as schizophrenia, depression, anxiety, personality disorders, etc, are not to be considered competent of making their own medical decisions, and may need to be ‘sectioned’ if they are deemed to be inappropriately refusing treatment. Reading this made me feel as if I was an incapable outcast. Although I am depressed and anxious, I would always want to have the right to decide what happens to me, even if it doesn’t quite synchronise with the widely accepted definition of ‘my best interests’. I strongly feel that should I be in the position where I need to make a medical decision for myself, I am able to understand both sides, know the consequences of my actions and am prepared to take any risks with either opting or refusing certain treatment. Basically, I still have competence. To be stripped of that right simply because of my mental health state seems wrong to me.

Maybe I am insane. Or maybe we should re-define insanity.

 

Please note: If you are feeling low or thinking about suicide, please contact the Samaritans helpline on 116 123. They are open at all times and are there to listen.

Anxiety, Medical school, Medicine, Mental Health, Reality, Stigma, Stress

First impressions of CBT

A few months ago, I was referred by my GP to the IAPT service which provides talking therapy for patients suffering from depression, anxiety and severe sleeping disturbances (I suffer from all three unfortunately). After telephonic assessment in August, I was deemed suitable to receive Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT) which is aimed at altering the way people think in order to prevent harmful behaviour or distressing physical symptoms. Yesterday was my first appointment, and to be honest, I was quite nervous about the experience, despite having had 8 counselling sessions at my university already. I was also quite cynical of CBT because of some negative feedback I’d heard from people, so it took quite a lot of motivation for me to give it a try. My main rationale for trying CBT was that I couldn’t get any worse than I was now, so there would be no harm in trying, and  even if there was the smallest possibility that my quality of life could improve and I could potentially stop my continual suicidal thoughts, it was worth a try.

Just to give you a bit of background, I was formally diagnosed with severe depression and anxiety in March this year. I also suffer from insomnia and regular nightmares which often wake me up in sweats. I was prescribed Sertraline in March – a form of SSRI anti-depressant – and even after six months on the maximum dose possible, my condition did not improve but worsened*. Recently, I have been started on a different type of antidepressant, an SNRI, called Venlafaxine, but it is too early days to know how efficient it has been. It is only understandable however that despite my efforts, and medication and counselling, I wasn’t getting better. So when I received a phone call last week to arrange an appointment, I was kind of relieved that there were still other things left for me to try.

It took me about an hour to find the right place yesterday for my CBT appointment. It was in the most inconspicuous location with poor accessibility and getting lost in the dark only made me more anxious. I don’t know if it was this hospital in particular or if this applies to all mental health hospitals, but it was really difficult to find (despite my usual poor navigation skills!). I suppose it may be intentional so that patients don’t feel embarrassed walking inside for fear of stigma from the general public who may see them walking in. Once I did go inside the building, I felt like I was inside one of the really old hospitals they show you in horror movies. I took a photo which you can see at the top of this post, but it was terrifying to walk inside. I could not see anyone around, the ‘reception’ was closed off with newspaper coverings all over the window, the lighting was eerily dim, the signboards were out-of-date and I was lost once again. After walking around for ages, often just going around in circles, I managed to find somebody in the hospital who was kind enough to direct me to the right place. However, I have to point out that more needs to be done to improve the aesthetics of mental health departments and hospitals, especially because the patients going in are already in a very anxious state of mind, and as research has shown, environments can influence heavily on the mental health of people. I feel that the poor state of mental health departments is a consequence of the severe lack of funding towards mental health by the government. I strongly feel that this MUST be addressed.

On the other hand, after meeting my therapist, I have to say that I was made to feel extremely comfortable. She had a spark in her which made me feel as if things could get better for me, and she reassured me that she would work through my problems with me throughout the forthcoming sessions. I found her to be extremely helpful and caring and I really do look forward to our sessions in the future. Yesterday was an assessment and summary of how things were going to work, and I will see her again for a formal session in 2 weeks’ time. Maybe things will change for the better, we just have to wait and see.

If you have any comments or suggestions, please feel free to leave a comment as I would love to hear them!

* Please note: Just because an anti-depressant did not work for one individual does not mean it will not work for another. Everyone is different and often it is a ‘trial and improvement’ process. My mother has been on low dose Sertraline for her depression and anxiety and it has worked wonders for her, whereas it has had little effect on me. 

Anxiety, Mental Health, Sexual abuse, Stigma

#MeToo

Sexual abuse and rape are difficult topics to talk about even today. Over the past few weeks we’ve heard some inspirational stories of celebrities who have suffered some form of sexual abuse, and the #metoo hashtag has helped many other victims all over the world to open up about their experiences too. For me, it highlighted just how many people had kept quiet about their ordeals, owing to the huge stigma associated with opening up. Infuriatingly, it is often more difficult for the victims to deal with the aftermath of disclosing their stories than the perpetrators themselves. And this is what fuels the horrendous stigma, and it becomes a vicious cycle.

I thought I would also take this opportunity to tell everyone my story. I too, like many others, have always feared opening up in case I am judged or treated differently. But I don’t think that matters to me anymore. 

I was sexually abused for about 2 years by a distant family member from the age of 9. He was a much elderly individual – I saw him as someone who would be my grandfather’s age at least. It started from the first time my family and I went to his house. I was wearing a cute blue T-shirt with pictures of ice-cream all over it, and of course I was wearing my faded blue jeans with gems at the pocket seams because they were my favourite. I was a bit of a chubby 9-year-old but was not yet pubescent. I was also extremely naive and innocent – I didn’t know anything about sex – I was more preoccupied with making pretty friendship bracelets and getting myself ahead in advanced algebra. 

We all had some tea in the living room after which everyone but myself and this relative left the room to help prepare food in the kitchen. He called me to sit on his lap and asked me to sing a song for him. I wasn’t really comfortable doing that but I’d always been taught to be obedient so I did as he said. After I finished the song, he praised me and started squeezing and kissing my cheeks. He proceeded to start biting my cheeks which hurt and I wanted to shout for help but I was so scared that I couldn’t speak. Whilst biting me, he started groping my breasts and I was silently crying and trying to escape but he was too strong. This continued for a few minutes until we could hear footsteps coming towards the room, which is when he finally let go of me. I was still crying and felt traumatised, and when my mum came in the room asking me what happened, I just didn’t know how to answer. He was laughing and smiling, prentending as if nothing happened. 

For the next two years, he kept finding opportunities where he could get me alone and abused me. A lot of people will ask – well, why didn’t you just tell someone? And believe me, I hated myself for a long time because I asked myself that. It’s a lot harder than you think. Especially when you’re a 9-year-old and you’re taught to always listen to your elders and that your elders are always right so you should never question them. I was really confused about what was happening. I knew what he was doing was not right and I was traumatised from the inside out. From that first time he abused me, I felt as if my childhood had been snatched away. I had trouble sleeping at night, I was always paranoid and scared that he would find me during the day. If I did get some sleep at night, it would be filled with nightmares. And my bad sleep started affecting my health to the point that I started getting severe migraines. I lost a lot of weight because I’d lost my appetite, and soon I started fainting due to severe low blood pressure owing to not eating. 

When my parents eventually found out about this, they were devastated and they stopped going to his house and stopped him from coming to ours. My dad spoke to him in private, and I’m guessing some strong words were exchanged, but I still don’t know what he said. However, my parents never reported him to the police. Although we stopped meeting him for a while, about 5 years later everyone acted as if nothing had happened and we resumed going back to his house. By this point, I was mature enough to stand my ground and thankfully, he didn’t have the courage to abuse me again. But what no one realised was that the damage had been done.

A lot of people think that victims of abuse can completely get over their experiences with time, but unfortunately that is not true. We get better at coping, but it’s something that ends up staying with us. As of a couple of years ago, I thought I’d recovered from the trauma of the abuse, but apparently I still haven’t. Since then, I have found it very difficult to make physical contact with people, and often when I’m hugged by others, I experience a feeling of suffocation and acute anxiety. I always need people around me to be at a certain distance and if they get any closer, I start panicking. I have mild claustrophobia too, and whenever I am in a situation I don’t like (e.g. in a boring teaching session) I get panic attacks. 

I am now receiving therapy to help me cope with my anxiety and I really think that it’s helping me. The point I wanted to raise by sharing my story is that it’s ok to talk and there is no shame in it. It is too often the case that victims are shamed more so than their perpetrators which discourages people from speaking out. But we can overcome this by raising awareness and telling people that it is NOT ok to shame us. We may be wounded but we are anything but weak.