I thought perhaps doing another introduction blog post. My name is Léyanie. I had a mental breakdown in 2019. April 8th 2019. Almost exactly 2 years ago. I have 6 children, all with additional needs. My partner and I have been together for 23 years. Our relationship has always had its challenges, and continues to do so. He has complex chronic medical conditions that have severely impacted his ability to function. I'm struggling to come to terms with becoming his carer and him dying at an early age. We are both 40. The prospect of becoming a single mother is daunting. With the added complexity of my mental Illness, the thought alone can trigger my anxiety and eventuate into a full blown panic attack.
I have my mental health self care tool box. Music, walks, podcasts, audiobooks, time with friends and family. I have a guilty obsession for astrology. I went to art school, but never graduated. I'm a terrible artist frankly. I'm even worse now,having had years of absolutely no drawing or painting or sculpting. A love for art doesn't make you good at it. I love music. I have played various instruments, but not very well. I studied English,film and literature at uni. It was just a foundations course to gain entry to a full degree. I got pregnant and never started the degree. I love philosophy, I'm interested in theology, despite growing up in an agnostic, secular home. Though, my Dad always leaned more towards anti-religion. I don't think he was atheist so to speak, but he always said religions had caused more wars than not. In 2017 I changed my way of eating to keto, I lost a good amount of weight and felt amazing. My mental Illness was a speed bump to my diet for a long while as when I was on antidepressants all I could eat was fruit and a small amount of basic protein. Fruit was a huge go to food. Sometimes it was the only food I could keep down. So there goes ketosis. Antipsychotics also made me gain weight. I believe medications wreaked havoc with my gut microbiome. I don't think it has been the same since. I eat low carb nowadays, but I'm not perfect. Occasionally I fall off the wagon and eat something sugary or wheat based. I pay for it with panic attacks. Sugar can trigger my panic attacks. But sometimes I'm stupid and just think "what the hell, give some milk chocolate." In the month preceding my breakdown I ended up in emergency thinking I was having a heart attack. It was in fact my first ever panic attack. It was awful. Also in that same week, March 2019. I put my back out. I have a herniated disc L4 - L5 and it was impinging the nerve. MRI also picked up micro fissure in the vertebrae and my tail bone showed signs of calcification. The L4-5 was the source of the debilitating pain. I could barely walk for weeks, driving was painful. I was on nerve pain meds, which helped, but at that stage I didn't trust medication much. Starting Prozac is what had triggered my first panic attack. I went from one medication to another to try to alleviate the mind pain and the back pain. I learnt over that year, that antidepressants are not my friend. I refuse to try them ever again. The only one that didn't cause raging panic attacks was Valdoxan. But there are some reports of it just being glorified melatonin. It helped a little. But not enough to justify paying $70 a month for it. Sometimes I felt it made me too restless, like I had electricity running through me. Which is a strange sensation. Leading up to my breakdown I was having odd sensory symptoms like an electrical current running through my legs and arms. I also felt like warm water was coming out of my foot occasionally. Sometimes I would feel a warm water sensation on my inner thigh. It caused me lots of anxiety. My doctor sent me for an MRI on my brain to rule out MS. It all came back negative. In hindsight perhaps it was the disc issues with my back. I still have awful sciatica that flares up. And occasionally I have those weird sensory issues. I take a medication that is really helpful for it. I'm grateful for that. I try to be grateful for the little wins.
I love taking photos and put them on my Instagram page. It's a visual gratitude journal of sorts. I only use my phone to take the photos, but I have considered investing in a decent camera and taking it a bit more seriously.
I dream about writing a book, buying a house for my family to thrive in (we live in a very dodgy rental and it is depressing), planting a Jacaranda tree in a garden that is mine and watching it grow for the next 30 years or more. I dream of a life that's less struggle and survival and more joy and thriving. I dream about a time where my mind is mended and has become stronger around the scar where it once broke. I dream of being old and watching my children grow into their unique selves. Maybe I'll still be writing this journal. My journey of my own unique self. Unashamedly, unforgiving, unforgettably. Myself.
If you've happened upon my nonsense and made it this far. Thanks for stopping by.
Comments