Three years ago, freelance journlaist, June Shannon was admitted to a psychiatric hospital in Lucan Co Dublin suffering from an acute episode of depression and anxiety
ON THURSDAY August 25th, 2005 my perception of mental illness changed forever. I was voluntarily admitted to St Edmundsbury Hospital - a private psychiatric hospital in Lucan, Co Dublin - suffering from an acute episode of depression and anxiety.
I was to remain there for seven weeks until October 14th. Three weeks later I returned to work and three years later my experience has taught me that with the right supports in place it is possible to recover from mental illness - a lesson we all, not least those responsible for funding mental health services, need to remember.
In hindsight, my mental health had been deteriorating for some time before I finally shut down. I had been suffering frequent panic attacks, weight loss, early morning waking, sweating and nausea.
I had spent six weeks at home under the care of my GP, and hugely supportive husband and family before I finally agreed to go to hospital. I don't remember very much about that time - the mind has an incredible self-preservation mechanism, which kicks in at times of excessive stress.
I couldn't stop crying and was in a constant state of heightened anxiety and panic. Imagine for a minute that you have just been told the worst news ever - that sick feeling in the pit of your stomach, adrenaline pumping, shaking, heart racing, fear and a sudden need to be physically sick - that was my 24/7 reality as someone suffering from repeated episodes of panic.
I was also overcome by an unrealistic fear that I was suffering from an unknown physical illness for which there was no cure.
The physical manifestations of anxiety and depression were for me the most striking thing about my illness. While my doctors tried to reassure me that these symptoms did not have a serious organic basis I continued to believe that I was very seriously ill and would almost certainly not recover.
My appetite and all interest in food disappeared completely. When coaxed to eat, I physically could not swallow any solids. For six weeks I existed on yogurts, fruit juice and coffee and as a result lost three stone.
My speech became slurred and I found it difficult to speak. I walked slowly and was hunched over like an 80-year- old woman, despite being just 34. I also suffered from diarrhoea, pins and needles, excessive sweating and exhaustion.
It felt as if someone had turned up the volume button to max on everything - the television, radio, and even normal conversations were all too loud to tolerate.
I also suffered from a very specific and acute pain located in the right hand side of my lower back, which at times made it almost impossible to sit or lie down.
I later learned that physical pain is a well-known side effect of depression. For me the fact that my doctors acknowledged my pain and even arranged X-rays and scans was crucial at least it felt that I was being listened to and believed. While the pain turned out to have no organic source, for me it was real.
I have since learned that my back pain is associated with stress. Amazingly, to this day if I find myself getting overly stressed that same pain starts to kick in, but thankfully never to the same degree as it did when I was mentally ill.
Depression and anxiety make for terrible bedfellows. You lose all your powers of concentration and cannot read a label let alone a headline in a newspaper. This, for me and for a lot of people I know who have suffered from depression, can be particularly distressing.
When I finally gave in and acknowledged that I wasn't recovering at home, my GP - who was a fantastic support throughout my illness and continues to be to this day - finally said the words I was both dreading and longing to hear: "You are not beating this at home June, are you?" The next day I was admitted to St Edmundsbury Hospital.
Part of me was relieved. It meant that I could give up fighting and allow someone else to take over. At that point I was both physically and mentally exhausted and was put on a treatment programme that included medication and psychological therapy.
All patients at St Edmundsbury, which is set on acres of farmland, are encouraged to be up and dressed before breakfast. Activities include relaxation classes, information lectures, physical exercise classes and wellness and recovery sessions.
Once I felt up to it I was allowed home for weekends and after seven weeks I felt well enough to come home for good.
As a medical journalist I have written countless articles about mental illness, the need for improved services, increased funding, more commitment from Government and the importance of overcoming the huge stigma still associated with mental ill-health in Ireland today.
I am aware that by committing my personal health experience to print, I run the risk of being written off by the ill-informed as "not normal" or "unwell".
However, by not talking about it, am I simply adding to the stigma of mental illness? By not writing about it, am I contributing to the uncomfortable silence that continues to surround the issue?
More importantly, I want to get the message across that with the appropriate supports and treatment recovery from severe depression is possible. I am well aware, however, that I was one of the lucky ones.
I was lucky to have the unwavering support of my husband, family and friends, incredibly privileged to have been in the care of the late great Prof Anthony Clare.
I will also be eternally grateful for the support I received from the patients at St Edmundsbury, a number of whom I now count as close friends.
And while it galls me to say it, as a patient in Ireland's increasingly inequitable health service, I was lucky enough to have private health insurance. Hopefully once the Government finally implements the recommendations in AVision for Change, the blueprint for changing mental health services in the Republic, no patient will be disadvantaged through not having private health insurance.
I am one of the one in four people who, according to the World Health Organisation (WHO), will experience mental ill-health at some stage in their lives. This is is a quarter of the Irish population, or approximately one million people.
Unfortunately, because of the inherent stigma attached to mental illness, a full quarter of the Irish population is at a real risk of being excluded from society, from work and from their communities.
A groundbreaking report published last year by the National Economic and Social Forum (NESF) entitled Mental Health and Social Inclusiondeals with mental illness as a condition from which, with effective social and workplace supports, it is possible to recover.
One of the main findings of the report was that work is the best route to recovery for people with mental ill-health. The report concluded, however, that "most people with severe and enduring mental ill-health are not in employment and are at risk of greater social exclusion".
I was lucky too in that I was able to return to work and continue to work in a profession I thoroughly enjoy.
If you have an interesting health experience - good or bad - e-mail healthsupplement@
irish-times.ie
Fact file
• World Mental Health Day is on October 10th. St Patrick's Hospital and the Dean Clinics in Dublin are running a special campaign supporting Mental Health Awareness Week which runs from October 6th-11th.
The theme of the campaign is: Mental illness it is not just all in our heads.
To learn more contact the St Patrick's Hospital information centre at: 01-249 3469 or log on to: www.stpatrickshosp.ie
Information and support is also available from: The Samaritans - which offers a confidential, non-judgemental support 24 hours a day. Tel: 1850-60 90 90; e-mail: jo@samaritans.org
or
Aware, at the Aware loCall Helpline: 1890-303 302