C is for Crisis

Welcome to my weekly A-Z of Mental Illness. Each week I will be writing about a mental health topic that correlates with a letter of the alphabet.  I have a few people doing guest posts along the way as well, just so you don’t have to listen to me drone on every week.  I hope that through this alphabet of Mental Illness I will be able to spread a bit more awareness.

Find previous posts >>>HERE<<<<

mental illness alphabet

*The following post contains triggering statements. Please make sure you feel safe before reading* If you need help please contact your nearest hospital.  Alternatively contact LifeLine 13 11 14

C is for crisis.

You find yourself wandering down a busy road, wake up to find your arm covered in blood, no idea what time of day it is.  You feel hungover but don’t remember drinking last night.  You look around the room and realise this isn’t your bedroom, this isn’t your bed and this isn’t your house.  Then you remember, you reached crisis point and are laying in a bed in a Mental Health Ward.

Sometimes I asked for help before that crisis point, before it became so much that I just ‘took care of things’ myself.  Only going to the hospital because each time needs to be deeper than the next.  Most times I am turned away, a ‘frequent flyer’, told to deal with it myself and stop wasting their time.  Occasionally I find a compassionate doctor, nurse, police officer who pushes for more.

Crisis point feels like you are being suffocated, there is no light at the end of the tunnel…hell there isn’t even a tunnel.  You wear tracks in your house, refusing to leave, wanting desperately to get out.  The sun shines in through a crack in the curtains, you pull the blanket a bit higher.  It’s a depression crisis point, you’d do anything to break free, for 5 minutes of peack.  Just five minutes and you can go back to coping again.

Your teeth are clenched, your fingernails leaving deep impressions in your palm.  You swear under your breath as you feel the anger bubbling to the surface.  You kick a wall, throw a book, scream until your voice gets hoarse.  You feel like a volcano on the verge of errupting, one more thing and you swear you will self combust.  This anger feels never ending, that you will never be happy again.  You feel everyone staring at you, your irrational responses, the outbursts that you can’t keep to yourself.  You can cut the air with a knife.  It’s an anger crisis point.

Crisis hits when you are least ready for it, it doesn’t care that you have deadlines to meet, that you have a family to take care of or places to be.  Crisis doesn’t like to be ignored, the more you push it down, the more it comes back fighting it’s way to the surface.

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