Mental Health

Hello from the Inside…

I’m back!!! After a 2 year hiatus and a pandemic, I’ve decided that there is no better time for me to return to blogging. I can’t wait to share all the weird, exciting, and not-so-exciting stories with you, the ups and the downs – the whole lot, basically. So get yourselves ready, and watch this space.

Your quarantine reads await…

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.

 

Mental Health

The Imperfection of Perfectionism

***Just to start off with, I sincerely apologise for my lack of posts recently – I have been quite overwhelmed with some personal issues as well as exam stress, but I’m back again!***

Being a medic at one of the UK’s top universities, the competition to do extremely well in everything I attempt to has unintentionally become quite destructive to my mental health. And it’s not only me – my peers and colleagues at medical school are most definitely guilty of having perfectionist personalities, having all attained full sets of perfect A* grades in their exams prior to coming to medical school. It’s because getting into medical school is such a difficult feat that participating in the competition to get a place shapes you into becoming unrealistically high-achievers.

Don’t get me wrong – there is nothing wrong with being a high-achiever. In fact, it is extremely admirable because so few people have the determination to do well and keep pursuing their ambitions. But there is a fine line between pushing yourself towards your goals and beating yourself up for not achieving an unrealistic target. And that’s what I wanted to talk about today – the ‘imperfection’ of perfectionism.

Perfectionism is defined as the ‘refusal to accept any standard short of perfection’. This could be with regards to any aspect of life, be it grades and academics, the way you tidy your clothes or the way your body looks. Though it is probably not completely environmentally caused, there is a significant amount of external influence in setting up these mindsets amongst ourselves. From parental influence, to peer pressure and social media, the journey to achieve perfection can become an obsession.

But why is it a bad thing? Surely if you have A*s in all your exams, are meticulously organised and can brag about a size zero body, you’d be the happiest person in the world, right? Wrong. Here’s a diagram to help explain what happens to perfectionists:

Related image
[Image credit: https://bitesizebio.com/517/perfectionism-are-you-on-the-downward-spiral/]
When our goals are attainable, perfectionism isn’t so much of a problem. For example, if I wanted to go up a grade in a subject in a year’s time, that might be a realistic goal provided I put in the work. When our goals are unattainable however, or just unrealistic given the timescale and effort we are able to give, perfectionism can make us criticise ourselves for not having achieved what we wanted to. As the cycle above shows, when an unrealistic self-expectation is not achieved, we fall into a spiral of self-blame which reduces our motivation (as we start asking ourselves “what’s the point of trying if I can’t do well?”) and therefore our productivity. After a while, we set ourselves another set of unrealistic goals towards which we start forcing ourselves to work, and the cycle goes on.

I never really thought much of my perfectionist nature until I got to medical school. It never really did me any harm before because, as obnoxious as it may sound, I managed to achieve the goals I set myself with regards to academics. I had perfect grades and got into all the medical schools I applied to. In short, I hadn’t really experienced “failure”. When you get to medical school, the cohort of students you are ‘competing against’ in the end of year exams are incredibly intelligent with an average IQ far exceeding the norm. In conditions like these, it is almost impossible for most students to achieve the >95% they expect of themselves in the exams. I went from getting these high grades in school and sixth form to just about scraping a 40% pass in my exams. Whilst many might say that it’s not too much of a big deal since I did manage to pass, there was no way I could convince myself that it was good enough. And I am not alone in feeling this way – the majority of students in medical school experience the same drop in grades. And it does damage our self-esteems.

For me, the external influence was always my parents. Being of Asian origin, I had the stereotypical parents who would scold me for “only getting 98% in my maths test” whilst growing up. But once I got into medical school, they became incredibly relaxed and told me that I didn’t need to worry about my grades anymore, and if I failed an exam I could always re-sit it in the summer. Whilst this was a strange feeling and should have liberated me, I was so habituated to getting 100% that I couldn’t cope with the idea of not being the best. So when I didn’t do as well as I wanted to, I felt really really useless. I felt as if I wasn’t good enough for medical school (even though I did get a comfortable pass) and that there was no point in me trying. In short, it made me extremely unhappy.

It was from then on that I realised that I needed to stop trying to be perfect all the time and be happy with trying my best, because that’s all I could really do. So instead of shutting myself up and constantly working, I decided to lay back a bit more and enjoy myself. It’s all about finding the right balance and not comparing yourself to the people around you because we’re all different. Sure, it takes a long time to mentally accept that, but when you do, you really do find happiness in yourself.

So let’s stop pursuing perfection, when there really isn’t anything perfect about it to begin with.

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.

Medical school, Mental Health, Pressure, Relationships

When No One Understands

It can be the loneliest feeling when no one understands you, how you’re feeling and what you really want. You can be surrounded by all the people in the world, but when no one understands you, you feel as if you are indeed alone.

This is something that I have difficulty coping with most days. When I am feeling low and I come back home after a long day, I don’t have the energy to converse with my family or give them the ‘quality time’ that they want. It means I’m quieter than usual but often my family members mistake that for me being reclusive and I am suspected of ‘hiding’ something from them. When they ask me “What’s wrong?” and I respond saying that nothing is wrong but I am just tired, they often don’t believe me. And not having someone believe me is the most frustrating thing.

Recently, I have been making an effort to attend all my scheduled teaching at placements and also to participate in extra teaching from older years in preparation for my upcoming OSCEs (a viva exam for medical students). I am also taking part in some extra-curricular activities this term to keep my spirits up, which means that I am home for very little time. My parents misunderstand this for me trying to avoid them, but I really do all of this to make myself feel productive and keep myself distracted from my low moods. It has been helping, and even if I feel unwell, I force myself to go because once I break the pattern, it can become so easy to give up and not go in the next week, and the next, etc. Unfortunately, my parents don’t seem to understand this and rather than encouraging me, I receive a lot of discouragement, especially for non-academically related events, which they don’t see the point of.

So what can I do in this situation? It really upsets me when the people closest to me fail to understand me, but at the same time no one can fully understand you, except for yourself. So I think acceptance of this fact is key. I try to accept that I can’t expect to be understood all the time, so sometimes I just have to deal with it and go on as I must. When I used to receive counselling, my counsellor really helped to put things into perspective for me, which was certainly liberating and empowering. However, now that my sessions with her have ended, I try to envisage what she would have said to me, and I try to assess my situation with as objective a view as possible. It is extremely difficult for me to do, but it is doable.

Other things I have tried in the past include keeping a diary of my thoughts, especially at times when I felt the loneliest. Of course there was no response from the diary, but it felt good to get my feelings out and it gave me the impression that I was talking to someone who was listening. And that was enough to make a difference.

We all feel the need to be heard sometimes. It is simply human nature. Talking to the people around us can help of course, especially if they are willing to listen and understand, but in the instances they are not, there are other ways to cope.

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

The Magic of Creativity

Most days, I don’t feel like I have the energy or motivation to do anything but curl up on my sofa, binge-watch trashy TV and mindlessly munch on processed junk until I fall asleep and the cycle repeats itself. So when I went to my first CBT (cognitive behavioural therapy) session a few months ago and the therapist suggested I engage in enjoyable activities and rekindle my hobbies, I honestly thought, “what rubbish”. I felt so drained of energy that even getting to the CBT session in my pyjamas was an achievement for me.

My turning point was definitely in the weeks following my suicide attempt. After seeing the effect that it had on my family and friends, I was determined to get better and get out of the vicious cycle of depression I was stuck in. I decided that even if I felt life was not worth living for me, it was definitely worth living life for those who loved me. And yes, I knew life was not going to be all flowery – in fact, ever since my attempt in November, things have most definitely not been going my way or in my favour – but it was worth going on for the few minutes that I made my baby sister smile, or for the moments I spent cradled in my mother’s arms, or for the times that my friends tried cheering me up with their banter. So I decided that it was time for me to start getting up from that sofa. It was going to be anything but easy, but with the support from friends and family, I could do it.

The first thing I decided to do was to try and rekindle my hobbies as my therapist had suggested long ago. For me, art and singing have always been my favourite activities – they were both hobbies I’d pretty much given up on because I didn’t feel as if I had the willpower or motivation to do them. So I decided to audition for a singing part at a society-run university play (which required much support and encouragement from a good friend of mine) and ended up getting the part. I also decided to get back into sketching and painting which, I have to say, has been INCREDIBLY effective at providing me with a productive form of distraction when I’m feeling low.

On days that I feel extremely depressed, time doesn’t seem to pass. It’s difficult for me to pick up a pencil or to practice my singing, but once I start, it gets easier and easier. It gives me something to focus on, and I don’t even realise how quickly time flies. Sure, right now it doesn’t really help with my procrastination issue, but one step at a time. The logic is that if our daily average enjoyment levels increase to a sustainable degree, then motivation also increases and the possibility of achievement does too.

It’s always difficult to take the first step, and progress is not nearly as quick as we’d like, but I guess every little helps. I’m not back to my extra-motivated, focused, organised, efficient self yet (nowhere near it, in fact), but at least I’m spending a little less time moping on my sofa staring at the TV screen. And maybe one day, I’ll even be able to get back to being productive with my work and feel more of a sense of achievement.

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, Mental Health, Reality, Stigma, Stress

“Are you ok?”

Often we can become so caught up in our own lives that we forget to pay attention to the people around us. Moreover, we have transitioned into a society where awkwardness predominates most situations and prevents us from connecting to those around us. It even hinders us from doing nice things for people, because we are unsure whether we would be acting within social norms. But maybe we shouldn’t worry so much about fitting into social norms especially when it comes to doing good for others.

A couple of weeks ago, as I was making my daily commute to university on the tube, I noticed that a woman sitting opposite me was crying silently, wiping her tears on the end of her sleeve. She was trying so hard to make it look inconspicuous that I genuinely wondered whether she was crying or if she was suffering from some sort of allergy causing increased tear secretion. Once I had mentally confirmed that she was crying, I started becoming concerned and was tempted to ask her if she was ok. On the one hand, it is highly unusual for two strangers to start talking in London and striking up a conversation may make the situation uncomfortable, but on the other hand, I really wanted to make sure she was ok and let her know that she is not alone in the problems she is dealing with. I took the next few minutes deliberating over what would be the most appropriate thing to do. I tried catching her eye contact but she started to close her eyes in an attempt to have a quick nap.

A few stops passed and she opened her eyes, so I took the opportunity to say, “Excuse me, are you ok?” She seemed startled by my question, and gave a flustered response – “Yes, sorry, yes, I’m fine, I’ve just had a bad day.” I continued to ask her whether she wanted some water or a tissue to which she said “no, thank you” as she already had some. I thought I’d give her some passing advice and said, with regards to her crying, “It’s better to let it all out than keep it bottled up.” She smiled at me in gratitude and for the remaining stops of her journey on the tube that morning, she kept on smiling to herself and had stopped crying. She thanked me shyly before she left the train.

What this situation made me realise was that sometimes, it’s enough to just let people know you care by asking them if they are ok. It’s a simple and very overlooked question because it’s become so integrated in our casual greeting, “Hey, morning, you ok?” to which the automatic response is “yeah I’m good thanks”. But asked in the right way, it can show the other person how much you really care. In this case, I feel that me asking the woman about how she is when I was nothing but a stranger to her, made a difference. I know that, were it reversed, I would have appreciated somebody else’s concern incredibly. It just gives you the hope that you are not alone and there is help to be offered. It also helps us humanise the busy commuters around us, who we subconsciously ignore in our morning hustle, and if everyone did the same, we would all be more connected as a population.

There have been a few times when I have ended up breaking down on the tube and on the bus, crying uncontrollably. Despite the people around me noticing, nobody asked me if I was ok. I don’t blame them because we often fear the shame of being awkward so much that we forget to do what is more important. When I was having a breakdown, a simple “are you ok?” may have made a lot of difference. Sometimes I forget that I am not alone, sometimes I feel as though there is no one to help me. But a simple reassurance from a fellow human being is enough to make a difference.

So let’s make that change. Overcome the awkwardness, and ask that question.

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.