Could you tell me a time when you felt as though things would never get better?

I am almost certain that most people reading this post have, at some point, felt that they can never get out of the deep dark hole, they have suddenly found themselves in, I know I have.

The summer before my 2nd year of university I was a happy, carefree 19-year-old, excited to return to university and continue my studies. The universe however, had different plans for me, when I was involved in a serious head-on road traffic accident on the last day of summer. Thankfully I walked away with a nasty wound on my side and some bruising and burns from my airbag and seatbelt. Leaving hospital, I naively believed that I had done the hardest part, surviving a horrible accident, nobody could have prepared me for the road ahead.

A quick visit to my written off car to collect my belongings triggered the spiral in my mental health, the kind lady at the recovery centre warned me that it was bad, but I thought she was being dramatic. The crash itself is a complete black hole in my memory, I have absolutely no idea what happened, nor do I wish to ever remember what happened, what I have been told is more than I need to know. The aftermath of the accident is extremely vivid; however, my extremely intelligent brain protected me from clearly remembering the state of my beloved polo, now crumpled into an unrecognisable ball. To say what I was presented with in the recovery centre was horrendous is an understatement, I was at a loss for words, I could not, and still cannot, believe that I walked away unscathed.

The months following the accident were a constant uphill battle, from dealing with symptoms of PTSD, sleepless nights, anxiety, low mood, coursework extensions and everything in between, I made it through semester one. I could not have made it to Christmas in one piece without my beloved therapist, therapy is something I talk extremely openly about and encourage everybody to seek. Things were on the up and by late January I had my last session with her, I left with a spring in my step, life was slowly going back to normal, everything was beginning to settle down and the feeling of normality was creeping back.

Boring, mundane life returned, but I couldn’t have been more grateful, I had a different perspective on life, I felt as though someone had given me a second chance, and I was ready to grab it with both hands. The universe, yet again, had a different plan, but for the whole world this time, when covid-19 forced us all inside. I didn’t find lockdown particularly challenging, however, this time was extremely isolating for my grandpa, who was widowed in 2014 and lived alone in a remote area. His mental health spiralled, he became a shell of the person he once was, he had spent 86 years hiding his struggles, and being misunderstood by those around him. Sadly, he took his own life in August 2020at 86-years-old.

I am unsure how to describe or explain what it feels like to lose someone to suicide, you feel every single emotion, from pain, to anger, to guilt. You feel misunderstood by those around you, I envied them so much, they had no idea how it felt, they told me how sorry they were, but they could go home and forget about it, but this was my life, and I couldn’t escape it. One of my dear friends, had also lost a very close relative to suicide, in those first few months, not much was said, but her presence, empathy, love and mutual understanding, was my lifeline. Over the next two years we have kept one another just above the water, when one of us slips under the surface, we pull one another out, no matter what.

Begrudgingly, I returned to therapy, where I was welcomed with open arms. I could see the sorrow in my therapist’s eyes. Evidently, we had not even scratched the surface in my previous sessions, what began as feelings of grief, spiralled quickly into low moods, catastrophic thinking, and crippling health anxiety. My life was spent largely believing that I had some life threating illness or disease or that any phone call or text message was somebody delivering bad news. This pattern of thinking spannedout for over a year, I really believed that I would have to live like this forever. I continued to go to therapy throughout the year, we identified the triggers, and it slowly became manageable, however I really did not want to spend my whole life believing every niggle or tingle was going to kill me. Third year was finally done, and I wasn’t feeling all that much better, the summer break helped, and the health anxiety subsided but I still didn’t feel myself. Although over time I became more confident challenging my thoughts without the help of my therapist and I found techniques that diverted my thoughts away from whatever was making me anxious or provided an explanation as to why I was feeling the way I was, the anxious thoughts still occupied my mind for 90% of the day. It was horrible, nobody could relate to how I felt, thinking a headache would kill me or going on a night out would result in someone being seriously injured through a freak accident, it consumed me and prevented me from doing so many things. I persevered with therapy, focused on exercise, spending time with my friends, and changing my environment. That is when the switch finally flicked, I took the risk and moved out, not knowing whether this would make me or break me. I escaped the environment in which I had spent so much time feeling rock bottom, it is true, you cannot heal in the place where you were hurt in, even if it does feel like your safe place.

Moving away was a breath of fresh air, I continued to go to therapy once a week, and work on challenging my thoughts myself. Slowly but surely, I began to feel like my old self again, the health anxiety virtually disappeared. I continued to battle low moods throughout the year, wishing I could drop out of university for the majority of 4th year but knowing how far I had come, there had been so many hurdles that one more year wouldn’t hurt.

This year I finally graduated; I breathed a huge sigh of relief as I left the library for the last time. There have been so many times where I could have thrown in the towel and dropped out of my course, but I was determined to keep going. I can happily say that I rarely suffer with health anxiety, when those intrusive thoughts begin to find their way back in, I quickly shut them down, therapy has provided me with the tools I need to live with health anxiety. I am not naïve enough to believe that I will never find myself in that place again, but I do know that I will confidently be able to navigate my way out again with the help of my amazing friends, family and therapist.

When life feels like it could not possibly get any worse, it can, there will be periods in your life where you will be dealt the worst cards. Life will also get better, it always does, you just have tohang on in there and ride the wave but reach out and ask for help riding that wave. Time is the best healer, things aren’t going to get better instantly, you must be prepared to put your health first, even if that means sacrificing other aspects of your life, you will be a better, kinder, healthier version of yourself. I wouldn’t be who I am today without everything that has happened these last few years, I grateful for the lessons I have learnt and the people I have met. There is always something good to take from everything in life, good and bad. Every day is a blessing, grab every opportunity with two hands and worry about everything else later.