The stigma of mental illness. I'd love to say I'm above that....but sometimes I wonder if I do. Those overly dramatic people, craving attention, doing dumb high school stuff for attention, annoys me. But most have a personality disorder of sorts. Generally major mental illnesses of Bipolar or Major Depression don't bother me, it's the personality disorders that always drove me insane. On the unit I called them the fire starters.
Anyway, it was about 10 years ago, I had my youngest son about 2 months prior and we were in the hospital because he had influenza (got him a flu shot that year) never again. It was about 6 in the morning and one of the PEDS nurses came storming in our room. She told me one of the nurse's at the hospital was killed by her husband the night before. I didn't know the nurse well, just worked with her occasionally when I floated to that department, but I knew her because she was my neighbor. Very tall skinny gal. Co-workers always talked highly of her. I would see her out walking the block very frequently. At the time she had 3 children. They'd ride their bikes and she'd walk. We'd exchange greetings and go on about our business.
She had been in a violent relationship. I knew of him too. He played softball and I'd see him on the fields. Their whole family had been home one night, he came home, had a shotgun, she came down the steps and he killed her. In front of their 3 kids. I can't even imagine. Having children of my own, gut wrenching to think of those poor kids witnessing their Rock of a mother heinously shot in front of them. I later learned details of the shooting, and wish I wouldn't have, because I pondered on them. Had way too vivid thoughts of the scene in the home. After he killed her he went and hung himself.
I've always had some hang up (certainly no pun intended) with people that hang themselves. I don't know if I knew of someone when I was young that did this, but it really bothered me. Bad. When I'd read in the paper about someone doing this, the thoughts permeated my mind incessantly. I'd drive by the area and feel so incredibly uncomfortable.
His hanging really bothered me. Thought about it constantly. Again, vivid imagination of how he would have tied the rope, how long he hung before he died.....just grotesque stuff I couldn't get out of my head. Every single day for months. I remember staring at a wood pile at my house and I thought of it. This now became a trigger for me. Every time I saw the woodpile, I'd be sucked into that horrible thought process. The woodpile wasn't hidden. Right in our back yard. So yeah, it was a daily thing.
This then turned into constant preoccupation with fear and panic that I would find someone hanging in a tree. I hated to drive. Anywhere there was trees (which, ummmm, is everywhere) I'd quickly glance looking for a body hanging. OMG this was a horrible way to live. I didn't tell anyone about it but my husband at the time. It was too odd to talk about. People would think FREAK!! And I'm not a freak. My ex-husband was less than empathetic. We'd be driving and there'd be trees on both sides of the road and he'd say....."so are you super freaked out now that there's trees all around you?" Gosh that made me mad. I didn't want to think like this yet I couldn't stop. What a DB.
This now lead to a preoccupation with death. Of my kids. I would lay in bed at night and see visions of me in a car accident with all 3. I specifically remember my oldest taking the brunt of the accident and his head rolling down the road. Yes, by this point (about 5 months after the initial killing of the nurse) I am exacerbated with myself, feeling crazy, yet tormented daily by my own thoughts.
I had 2 friends that were psychiatrists. I made an appt with one and told my story. I have OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder). I thought OCD was just people being weird with routines, numbers, tapping, closing locks etc. What you see on TV. That is the compulsive portion of the disease. Mine is the obsessive thinking. Good god I finally had an explanation for this. But having an explanation didn't help for crap. He started me on meds. Tweaked them over the next 6 months, and finally, I was no longer obsessing about death, hanging, fear of trees, etc. I will tell you, when you figure out you are not dealing with reality in your head it is a very scary thing.
I still take meds today. I will never go off them. Ever. Obviously now I don't have a problem telling people about it. I do get the raised eyebrow of WEIRDO, which, yes, it is very weird. I still think about the whole ordeal, but now I can have the thought, tell myself to let it go, and it goes away.
I consider myself an intelligent, competent person who is very high functioning. Mental illness has no boundaries. Anxiety, depression.....I think most of my friends have it, to some degree or another. Don't judge people (and I tell myself that yet everyday too, but I'm human).
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