Time To Talk

Today is Time to Talk Day. People are taking five minutes to talk about mental health. Here is my story:

I have blogged about my bereavement following Monty's stillbirth but found it difficult to describe how much bereavement has felt like a mental illness. When I first went to see a bereavement counsellor, I was given a questionnaire to fill in to determine whether or not I was depressed. Not surprisingly, I ticked most of the boxes.

In the first few months after losing Monty, I found it difficult to sleep. I couldn't concentrate or make decisions, not even on watching TV or choosing what to cook for dinner. I lost interest in things that I had previously enjoyed: singing, knitting, socialising. I just wanted to shut myself away at home but I hated being by myself. I went through the motions of daily life. People who visited thought I was 'doing well'. From the outside I appeared to function normally. Inside I was hollow. My self-esteem and self-confidence plummeted. I could no longer identify myself as the person I had been before my son died. My life had been derailed and I felt like I was in free-fall.

Relationships and friendships were put under strain. My world shrank. The only people important to me were my husband and my daughter. I tried to concentrate on getting myself better but I didn't know how and I needed a lot of help. At my lowest ebb, I told my husband I was broken and could never be fixed.

It took five months for me to feel ready to return to work but even that was too soon. It took longer for me to be able to get back to my hobbies. Even now, I struggle to learn new songs and to concentrate on anything other than the simplest knitting patterns. I continued to attend bereavement counselling until after Monty's anniversary and still regularly meet my counsellor for coffee.

I often wonder which box to tick when I have to complete equality monitoring forms. Do I have a disability? Should I declare my bereavement stress? I don't know. I don't consider myself to be ill but I'm not sure that I will ever be fully recovered. Many of my symptoms have gone but they have left a mark. Losing Monty has changed me forever. I am not and will never again be the person I was before. I have been taken on a journey to the depths of my soul and learned a lot about my mental health - something I previously took for granted.