This time last week I was coming to the end of a 2.5 hour mental health assessment (and Mum a 2 hour interview being held simultaneously with another clinician) which came fifteen, yes FIFTEEN YEARS after I was first referred by my GP.
Even back then, in 2008, my mental health had been a real problem for me for many years, culminating in a total breakdown on Boxing Day 2001 but, like many others hitting rock bottom, I woke the following morning, feeling that tiny bit better, so I got up and I carried on. Poor mental health had been a constant, in fact for as long as I could remember but, early in 2008, shortly after the very sudden death of my best friend, and the resulting, subsequent increase in an already high alcohol consumption, I went looking for help.
Even as recently as fifteen years ago, poor mental health was, in the eyes of most medical practitioners, simply a by-product of an unhealthy lifestyle.
Suffering from depression? So stop drinking.
Anxiety? How much do you smoke?
Yes, it is true to say that alcohol and tobacco aren’t good for you. Nothing controversial or surprising about that statement but this was no ‘chicken and egg’ situation for me. The issues were there long before I discovered ciggies and booze. They were simply an ‘off-switch’ for a few blissful evening hours.
But I knew something wasn’t right. In fact, many things weren’t right and smoking and drinking were just two of them and so I need to make clear that I’m writing this, not to excuse any previous behaviour or diminish responsibility in any way in the eyes of people that I’ve wronged in the past, but to at least try to explain to a certain extent that there was more going on than met the eye.
The majority of people suffering depression, anxiety, panic attacks etc can, sometimes with the aid of therapy, pinpoint a period of time or a specific traumatic event as the root cause and can therefore start work towards dealing with it or at least managing it moving forward. I never had that. My upbringing, my family and in particular my Mum and Dad were (and still are) nothing short of wonderful. I realise that you have to take my word that I’m not being overly biased towards them but I do have friends who will back me up on that so I have witnesses, if required. So my main question has always been, why? I can only try to deal with it if I know what it is. Ten years of antidepressants have given my thinking some much needed clarity but the big answer has never been forthcoming.
That is until last Wednesday, when, aged 48, I was diagnosed with autism.
It came as a surprise to me and I’m sure it will to most people who know me but for decades I have wanted an explanation and now I have it which, as soon as the news sinks in (it still hasn’t yet), will result in the biggest sigh of relief and, who knows, maybe even a little smile might break out. The making sense of all this will come in the days and weeks to come. There is a full written report to explain the diagnosis in more detail being compiled as we speak and should be with me and my doctor in a few weeks time but this, right now is where I’m at. Surprised, shocked, relieved, maybe even a bit happy.
I’m hoping to be able to use this platform again, moving forward, once I have more of the facts and the findings at my disposal.
Does this explain my crippling social anxiety, despite knowing that I’m a polite, funny and friendly guy even with the guards up and the brave face in full effect?
Does this also explain how on numerous occasions, especially in my younger (and fitter) days, when faced with the real prospect of a relationship with someone I completely adored, my first and, in most cases, only reaction was to run away very quickly? Similarly, would this also explain why the toxic relationships went on for too long?
Does this even explain that despite my speech being fine, I have a writing stutter (worse in certain letters, ‘M’ being the worst. Sod’s law with my name being Martin!) that my friend Kelly used to find particularly amusing?
I don’t blame Kelly for laughing at that. It is, like me, as it turns out, fucking mental!
But hey, normal is boring. x
https://music.apple.com/gb/album/getting-away-with-it-all-messed-up/1440723717?i=1440724560
The Depression Diaries 