‘Intrusive thoughts’-Stigma, Psych Ward’s and Straitjackets
*Trigger Warning*
’First published with Warriorkind’
As a child, mental well-being was never spoken of. If anyone had any mind-related problem, they were called crazy, mad, or insane. The negative view held by so many of us towards those with mental ill-health was clear as day.
I myself had several hidden, and not-so-hidden ‘personality quirks. Due to the stigma around this subject, of course, I never dare tell anyone the goings-on inside my own little noggin.
Fuck having a white van pull into my charming council estate for everyone to see me carted off to the psych ward. A padded cell waiting for me. Strapped up in a straitjacket, with my morning routine consisting of Inkblot tests... Plus, what would the neighbours say?
Nope... I'll just carry on suppressing my thoughts and feelings until they pass. Sorted!
I honestly thought telling anyone about my mind would result in being dragged away from my family, locked up with the key well, and truly binned. This overactive mindset resulted in bottling everything up. Sure, my family and friends knew I was a little weirdo. I’ve written before about my facial tics as a child, with an uncontrollable urge to blink and the need to touch objects multiple times. These actions were impossible to hide.
All my behaviour ‘quirks’ were always labelled as, a habit. My mother being told by everyone ‘’It's fine, he just has a habit, it will pass’’
No one knew how debilitating these so-called ‘habits’ were. No one knew what tricks my mind would play on me, and no one had a clue the real reason these ‘quirks’ were occurring.
Unlike the habits, you couldn’t see what was going on inside. Thoughts would pop into my head, sometimes teamed with very real feelings of physical pain. To rid this, a tic ‘quirk’ would emerge. I felt an overwhelming need to carry out certain actions, such as raising my voice, or washing my hands, believing this would ease the games my mind was playing on me.
Fast-forward to adulthood...
‘Hi, I’m Anthony. I feel I’m slowly going batshit crazy’
It had been years of feeling pretty fucked up. Reaching 18, I found myself withdrawn and Isolated from the world. Hiding away in my room with my fucked-up mind for company. And my two brothers, who didn’t make it easy for me to feel mad in peace. Knowing something needed to be done, I decided to confront my inner demons.
Plucking up the courage, I took myself to the doctors. Sitting down as a young man trying to explain the problem was hard enough. My palms drenched. Telling myself not to cry, and to man up! I needed to voice what was going on. This shit had to be dealt with!
Sat in the GP’s office, I began to talk. The doctor reached for a book to look up ‘depression’ This really didn’t fill me with much confidence! Even so, after a long chat for 60 whole seconds. It was decided, I was depressed. A prescription for anti-depressants was written.
That’s it? No advice, no follow-up? Just, here you go! Pop a few pills and feel right as rain? Bye!
So, there I was. Paper in hand to collect these magic drugs to fix everything. YAY!
Days, weeks, months. Years passed by, with my mind still being a total sod to me. My time spent cleaning and staying busy. With yet more cleaning. Really, I should have been charging my parents by the hour.
Opting to stop the medication, I started to gain a sense of acceptance. Yes, I had this problem and wasn’t clear why. But it was a part of me. I just needed to deal with it. Which I did. Life went on. A relationship began. A new job was started, which led to a new group of friends. Things were okay. I still had blips, but they were nowhere near as bad.
I become more open to those close to me, but still never spoke of the intrusive thoughts. Luckily there were fewer of them, but still, the odd one popped by to say ‘Hi’ in a very unfriendly manner.
In my mid-20s. Anxiety and bouts of depression took hold; my relationship broke down. Mainly due to me being an angry little prick.
I realized that even though things had improved, I was still holding in so much. Drink became a crutch, and, well, we as humans, find ways to cope.
Deciding to move back to my family home seemed the best option.
One day, a close family member was diagnosed with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD) Now, I was pretty quiet about my issues, being older and a grown man, I felt the need to be stronger and not talk about my state of mind. I was told years ago that I may have OCD, but it was just a passing comment.
It wasn't until one evening spending time channel hopping (Netflix wasn’t a thing yet... ‘I know right’) that I stumbled on a Channel 4 show about OCD. Even though I had heard of this before, I wasn’t aware of the ins and outs of the symptoms.
The TV show was about people needing to be clean and rid of germs. They would go to a less hygienic house and clean up after them.
Sadly; the uglier side of OCD wasn’t shown. They did touch on intrusive thoughts, but no mention of sensory experiences or other compulsions, but at least I had an inkling of what could be wrong!?
Being sure this was the issue, I self-diagnosed. The symptoms seem to line up. Mainly the fear of germs, which led to cleaning and endless handwashing. It all made sense. Maybe this is why I was feeling so low and why I locked myself away for so long?
Yet again, off I went to the doctors to ask if this was in fact what I had. At last, I was told, that yes, you most certainly do have OCD. This was a massive relief. I sat in the doctor's chair waiting to hear ways to rid this once and for all. Wide-eyed, ready to take notes... ‘’Tell me, doctor, how do we get this bastard thing to piss off?’
Unfortunately, it didn’t go that way. Yes, I had a name for this ‘Obsessive Compulsive Disorder’, but that was it. Yet again a suggestion of anti-depressants...
Err, excuse me? How would they help me having insanely disturbing thoughts? How would this help end an overwhelming urge to wash my hands until they bled? Were these pills going to end the phantom pains I was experiencing?
I had felt depression before, and this was not it!
‘Now I know that anti-depressants can ease symptoms, but this wasn’t explained’
For me, having a name for what was wrong was a big step forward. Choosing not to take medication, I found my own coping strategies, and although they were not perfect, they allowed me to get on with life.
The fear of being locked up was gone! The chances of being taken to the nuthouse were slim! I was more likely to find a solid gold cat sitting on my bed. (It just wasn't going to happen)
There have been times when I've been completely free from OCD and anxiety for long periods. Years even.
Like most demons, blips do resurface. Always during stressful times. Again, I manage to get through.
It wasn’t until 2018, after suffering a breakdown and being told I had Generalised Anxiety Disorder (GAD) Where my focus was purely on learning everything and anything that could help not just me, but others. This learning curve is here to stay!
Looking back, I wish I wasn’t so fearful to speak out. No one should go through any of this alone.
With OCD affecting around 2% of the population, anxiety and depression both on the rise and the fact suicide is the biggest killer in men under 45! Well, we cannot be silent. It's just too important to keep our mouths shut.
In a day and age where things are spoken more openly, and we can talk about mental health without the fear of a padded cell in sight! It does seem so much easier compared to previous years. But clearly, it isn’t easy enough.
These terrifying statistics show how much more is needed to be done. Stigma is still here, as is the fear to ask for help. We need to talk more, but also, we need to listen.
Below are a few tips to help when feeling a little nuts!
Share your stress with no fear of being judged. That includes judging yourself.
Keep a journal, as writing thoughts down will help ease built-up worries. This can be as simple as writing out your day.
Don’t feel worried to reach out. Call, text a friend or family.
Take care of yourself. Exercise. Eat better, enjoy the outdoors. If for any reason you feel you cannot, then seek advice for alternatives.
Be creative! Draw (even if your drawing skills are crap) draw those stick people with pride!
Dance, sing. Live in the moment.
Meditate! Meditation can be done by anyone and for as little as 1 minute per day (It's also free) Breathwork is especially helpful!
For me, keeping busy is key. I draw, write, read and whenever I’m feeling a little cray, I get some fresh air with a walk or a run, followed by breathwork. Some great examples of breathing exercises, along with other helpful websites can be found in the resources section.
If you need to talk, call the Samaritans 24/7 and for free on 116 123
Please always check with your doctor before stopping any form of medication. 