Beth’s story

TW: Self harm

I’d like to start this post by thanking everyone who has been brave enough to step forwards and share their story- to contribute to this site. And so, because of the bravery of other’s- I myself have decided to share my story.

My problems with mental health started from a young age, when I was in year six (10/ 11 years old) and as SAT tests got closer I found myself worrying about them more- and this led to me developing chronic pain syndrome. At the time this was focused in my left hip. I remember waking up one morning and not being able to walk, not being able to move. It was terrifying.

My mum took me to the doctors, and they called an ambulance. I was in hospital for five days and they, after numerous scans and blood tests, hadn’t found anything medically wrong with me. I was transferred to a specialist children’s hospital in oxford and that was where I was diagnosed with “Chronic pain disorder”. Which basically meant that the ‘illness’ was completely psychological- and thus, this is the start of my battle with mental health.

In year nine I started self-harming. I was bullied and isolated by people in my classes and this was the way I found to cope. I have scars down my legs, and across my stomach from that year. I always kept it hidden, never let anyone know how low I felt- how much of an effect these other children were having on me.

We picked our options in year ten, and classes were rearranged and thus I made new friendships. And for a while, everything died down. For a brief few months- everything was good. And then teachers started talking about exams. “The exams that would shape the rest of your life” to be exact.

And welcome back the chronic pain. Apart from the fact, this time it was my jaw dislocating. My jaw would dislocate multiple times a day- to the point in which doctors showed my mum how to relocate it to stop us ending up at the hospital. Over a period of two years I had my jaw wired shut four times- yet nothing medical would help. Because it wasn’t a medical problem.

It was during the month leading up to my GCSE’s that I spoke to the CAMS team at my local hospital (mental health people) and honestly, my experience with them was shocking. In fact, it’s down to them that I didn’t talk to anyone else from that kind of area for another couple of years. However, during this point, I was also diagnosed with bipolar disorder, depression, and anxiety. So tablets, tablets, and more tablets.

This isn’t meant to put anyone of seeking help- honestly, I met some amazing people within the medical profession later on. Yet during this time I relied a lot on my online friends to help me- and I made an amazing friend who is still with me years later (and is in fact the co-creator of this site) online.

So… GCSE’s done, and the whole summer before me. I spent a lot of it either by myself, or horse-riding with one of my oldest (and still valued) friends.

And then I started in sixth form… and what a rollercoaster that was. So, I’ve decided to put it in a list for y’all xD

1. The first couple of months were amazing- the best I’d had at this point really. I made loads of new friends as people transferred to the school, and the first couple of weeks were a breeze (little did I know, this was a high before a low…)
2. I started dating one of the boys, who- for the sake of this story- we’ll call Ben, and he was one of my closest friends and I honestly appreciate him for all the shit he put up with with me.
3. I had a minor low approaching the year 12 exams, I kept more to myself and only really let three people in- during this point I was struggling to process normal day to day events, and anything out of routine threw me.
4. Made it through the exams, and then it was summer. Went abroad with Ben and his family and it was honestly amazing- there were a few stressful moments as we talked about university and the rest of our lives- but it was still an amazing holiday.
5. And then year 13 started. And… that was a mess. I lost everyone, by the December of that school year (which started in September) I’d broken up with my boyfriend and signed a suicide pact with my “best friend” that I had every intention of following.
6. Oh, and by January, I’d also had an abortion…
7. However, Ben was… amazing, he managed to convince both me and my friend not to kill ourselves and the pair of us (me and Ben) tried so hard to get D help, we were her support network for the next year, and whilst I didn’t see it- this weighed massively on my mental health.
8. There were highs and lows that year, but by the time summer ball rolled around- I’d pushed everyone away. So, I didn’t go (despite having bought the dress and the ticket).
9. I spent that summer involved with the wrong crowd. I smoked, I drank, I was high pretty much every night. I… don’t remember much of that summer. There were times when I was in such a psychotic state that things that were completely in my head seemed real- and that was terrifying.
10. January the 8^th. That was when I got my own room in uni halls… and I don’t regret it for a second. I’ve got the most amazing boyfriend now who has dealt with my bipolar episodes like a pro and has encouraged me to get the help I need. I’ve also made some amazing friends who have helped me so much without them even realising it. In this last year alone, I’ve lost a baby (medical reasons for having to have an abortion), I’ve had exams, I’ve been stressed about housing for next year.
11. But at the same time, I’ve been out, I’ve gained more confidence, I’ve been clubbing, I’ve met people I will never forget because they’re life savours. Even when they didn’t know they were.

Thinking about where I was at this point last year (high, drunk and sleeping in my car most nights), makes me realise how grateful I am for the people I’ve got. I’ve got a couple of great friends from where I used to work (maccies), Beth, and my uni friends. And without them… I wouldn’t be here today- I certainly wouldn’t be the person I am today.

I’ve learnt one thing from my story. Let people help, because they want to. And they can, sometimes all it takes is a shoulder to lean on and a person to sit in the silence with you. I wouldn’t class myself as someone with a mental illness- I’d class myself as a survivor. Someone who’s fought all the odds and is still here.

And I want to help other people, I want to be there for other people and let them know that they aren’t alone. Because there’s nothing worse than being alone.