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C.R.
As a child I was a loner and
very sensitive. While in primary school I was the class clown but
this was a cover up for all my insecurities at the time. I was
always conscious about my weight. By the age of twelve I had tried
many diets to complete starvation. When I entered secondary
school I became very withdrawn and was bullied for the five years in
secondary school.
I
suppose the landmark for my road to hell was in 1992.This was the
year I sat my leaving certificate. I studied extremely hard but I
didn’t get into college. I was divested. Rather then sitting at home
I decided to do a secretarial course, I hated it. It was from here
that I really started to hate myself and my body. I stopped eating ,
drinking and in January of 2000 I took a overdose of paracetemol. I
was admitted into a General Hospital for a week. I was put on a
drip for being so dehydrated.
While I
was in hospital, I was visited by a consultant from a psychiatric
Hospital. She informed me that both herself and her team would be
able to help me. I was admitted into this psychiatric hospital. On
admission I was 7 stone. I was put on bed rest and my meals were
supervised. I was in the general ward for the first few months but
then I was put into a lock-up room. While here my room was locked
each night at 10:30pm. Everything was taken from me even my
toothbrush. My family were not allowed to visit me either, this
nearly killed me. My mum used to ring twice a day but I was never
informed of this. I thought my parents had forgotten about me. I had
supervised baths and lavatory visits also.
Because
I was still loosing weight I was put on the nose gastric tube. This
was extremely painful and I pleaded with them to take it out as it
was so uncomfortable. After been in hospital for 6 months I was
really getting lonely and irritated having no contact with my family
or even with the other patients. One night I sneaked out of the
lock-up room and got a pen and a paper from another patient and
wrote home begging my parents to come to get me. That same night my
parents were discussing me at home and when they got my letter they
were over in the hospital next morning and took me out against
medical advise. I was under five stone at this stage. My mum had to
carry me out because I was too week to walk after being in bed for
so long.
My mum
heard of a local G.P. of whom helped another girl who was suffering
from an eating distress. I went to this G.P. and she didn’t want to
take me at first because of my history but then she saw how
determined I was and she helped me. I went to Dublin to study for
three years and worked in Dublin also for a number of years however,
it was a constant struggle for me as I never got over my eating
distress.
However, in March of 2001 I had awful trouble in work and I found
it extremely stressful. I reverted back to my old way again and
began to loose quite a lot of weight.
I was
put in touch with a psychologist. Both he and my G.P. decided to put
me on anti-depressants called Cypramil. This psychologist
transferred me to another one. In January 2002 I took an overdose
and my G.P. encouraged me to visit a consultant in the psychiatric
hospital, where I have been before. She assured me it has changed
since I was last there.
I went to visit the consultant and he
said I needed to change my medication and he only could do that if I
came in as an in-patient for a week or so. I thought a week would be
okay but I was in hospital for
approximately four months. I was put into the high observation ward
and on bed rest. Here my anti-depressants were changed to Effexor
225mg, Zanax 3 mg, Largatal 200mg and Zopulone 15 mg. All this
medication did nothing for me as it did not help me sleep, get on
with my every day life and it didn’t take away the voices laughing
at me for eating.
I
continued to struggle with my weight and food intake. I tried to
tell them I had an eating distress but they just wouldn’t listen to
me. I was told that I had depression, social phobia and a
personality disorder and I’d eat once these were resolved.
I tried
countless times to take my own life. I was constantly self-harming
and just didn’t want to live as I was lead to believe I had nothing
to live for. Once home from hospital I locked myself into my room,
exercised excessively, wouldn’t talk to my family, lost contact with
my friends, wouldn’t go out anywhere, went around like a zombie and
had no concentration at all for anything. I suppose looking back,
the one thing I can really remember when my niece was christened and
everyone met for a meal up in my sisters house but I sat on the
kitchen floor in the corner with my head on my knees terrified to
move. I was so frightened of people around me because I was
convinced I had a social phobia.
I was
admitted to the Community Mental Health Centre, where I went on a
daily basis from 10:30 am – 3:30 pm Monday to Friday. Here, nothing
was done with me. I sat looking at the four walls or watched
television until it was time to go home. Although, I did see a
psychologist on a Wednesday morning for an hour each week.
My
family had countless meetings with my consultant and his team
explaining to them that I needed help for my eating distress but
they constantly refused to accept that I had a problem with eating,
they continued to say that they were qualified in this area and if I
needed help they would get it.
Again
in January 2003 I was readmitted into the old psychiatric hospital.
I was so suicidal, I used the sheets from the bed and my shoe laces
to try to hang myself, I tried to smoother myself with plastic bags
and pillows, and overdosed on medication. I was put on another
tablet called Risperidone and the anti-depressant was changed to
Prozac, so then I was on Risperidone 3mg, Prozac 40mg, Zanax 3mg,
Largatal 200mg, and Zopulone 15mg.
While
in hospital my consultant went on holidays and a locum lady
consultant took over his patients. She dealt with children 16 years
and under. She had various interviews with me and she also called my
parents into a meeting. She informed them that I wasn’t psychotic, I
only had an eating distress called Anorexia Nervosa. She asked me
the foods I used to like and ordered them from the kitchen. I was
put on bed rest, had supervised meals. She also put me on two
build-up drinks a day. I started to feel better in myself. I found
her excellent because she used to listen to me , to me as a person
and never spoke down to me. She encouraged me so much and had great
faith in me that I’d recover.
However, low and behold, my old consultant returned back and changed
everything that she had done for me. I was divested. As a result my
parents called for another meeting with him and his team and
informed him that I needed help for my eating distress. He disagreed
and shouted at them banging the table saying, how there they say
that he and his team were not qualified to deal with me. He insisted
the eating distress was only a small portion of my problem compared
to the depression, social phobia and personality disorder.
While I
was in hospital. Not knowing where to turn next, my sister looked up
the internet and found the name of The Marino Therapy Centre. She
phoned Gerry Campion in a terrible state and it all went up-hill
from there. As soon as I came out of hospital I knew I needed
professional help for my eating distress. So on Friday 14th
February 2003, I attended the Marino Therapy Centre for the first
time. I was so disorientated when I started, I can’t remember my
first few sessions, as I was like a zombie going round. I was on
Risperidone 3mg, Prozac syrup 50mg, Zanax 3mg, Largatal 100mg,
Zopulone 15mg. My family had to drive me up each week and then I
started to get the bus.
One
night while lying awake in bed, I didn’t want to be like a zombie
anymore and I wanted my life and independence back. On April 4th
2003, I stopped taken all my medication unknown to my consultant and
G.P. I informed the Marino Therapy Centre and they helped me guided
me through it. It was very tough. I had hot/cold sweats, I couldn’t
walk, light headed, the room used to spin around, had terrible
cramps, couldn’t sleep and I got terrible mouth ulcers. However,
after about a week and a half of feeling like this I started to come
back to myself. Thankfully, I am not driving up and down to Dublin
for my sessions in contact with friends, working part-time in an
office, listen to the radio, reading and eating regular meals at
regular times ( still wit great difficulty ) and this is due to the
Marino, as they encouraged me and most of all believe in me that I
will make a full recovery, unlike the medical professionals.
I
informed my consultant and his team that I’m off all medication and
discharged myself from the Community Health . I did this because I
no longer want to be under their care and continue my life going
around like a zombie, being suicidal and being misdiagnosed as
having depression, social phobia and personality disorder anymore. I
can now feel simple pain like catching my finger in the door, this I
couldn’t feel when I was on the medication. My sessions in the
Marion Therapy Centre are only now beneficial to me as it is only
now that I can feel again.
I
suppose the most upsetting thing for me at the moment is that I
trusted the medical professionals and they took advantage of that
and just doped me up on medication and constantly wanting to admit
me into a Psychiatric Hospital. I’m also very annoyed with myself
for becoming very institutionalised and not being strong enough to
say no to the increase of medication.
I have
damaged my body physically and I am paying for that now. These
include calcium and iron deficiency, low estrogens, sugar levels,
blood pressure and poor bone density. I also know that I still have
a long way to go in my recovery yet but I am on the right road now
thank god. I am now looking forward to going back to work in
September as a Special Needs Assistant.
C.R.
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