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.

Brave, Open & Hopeful

I have 'graduated' from bereavement counselling: completed the programme; been signed off; released from the system, set free!

It has been a long journey. I wasn't planning to seek counselling but a friend told me I should go. She said that six months after Monty's death, I seemed angry. I didn't think I was but, looking back, I can see that I probably looked very angry with the world. I had just returned to work and wasn't coping very well with the annual performance review, setting forward objectives or thinking about 'where did I want to be in 5 years' time?'. In reality, I think I was extremely frustrated.

So, I promised I would attend a couple of sessions. I actually went many times over six months. I could have easily turned away for so many reasons but I kept my promise to my friend and actually found the process very helpful.

In the first session, I completed a depression scoring test. Guess what? I was mildly depressed! (No surprise there...) I set some aims: to deal with my anxiety and fear about a future pregnancy and to deal with my anger and frustration. I also expressed three desires: to have another baby; to achieve a work-life balance that would allow me to make the best of my time as a mummy and as an employee; and for something positive to come from my loss.

My last counselling session was in the early New Year. We looked at some emotion cards and I had to choose three that expressed how I felt when I started counselling and three that expressed how I feel now. There was a difference. (Phew!) At the end of the process, I said I felt brave, open and hopeful. Brave for having taken the plunge and sought counselling when I didn't want to. Open for having talked honestly about my experience and my feelings with a stranger. Hopeful for the future.

My life is different now in so many ways to what I thought it would be like. I never expected to be a bereaved parent but I believe I have learnt a huge amount through losing my son. I have made and lost friendships, I have found inner strength and I have developed new perspectives. I have navigated my way through a difficult first year without Monty and feel better equipped to face the second.

I hope to help others by sharing my experience.