As many of you are aware, World Mental Health Day fell this week, and initially I had prepared to publish this post then. However, sometimes life gets the better of you and plans change, but that doesn't make the message any less important. Many brave bloggers published their own mental health stories, and left me filled with hope, inspiration and reassurance that I am never alone. Today, I want to share a slightly different story about how a physical condition left my mental health in tatters.
After two weeks of pain and struggling, my mum made an emergency appointment to see the GP, who examined me and referred me for an X-ray. I had already started to research potential conditions that could be behind the symptoms I was suffering from, and sciatica fit the bill exactly. However, specialists were reluctant to diagnose me with the condition because of my age. Sciatica typically affects those who are in their 50s / 60s or those who have suffered from a slipped disk or other muscular pain. I was referred to a chiropractor, who gave me gentle exercises to do, and it was she who encouraged me to visit a different GP, eventually leading to the diagnosis.
However, getting a diagnosis was the least of my worries. I had started to miss a lot of school because I couldn't even make it out of bed without being in pain. I went from seeing my friends every day to seeing only my brother, my mum or my dad. I had work sent to me in an effort to keep up with my GCSE classes, and I eventually managed to make it in a couple of days a week, but my anxiety about missing out on so much left me feeling awful, and the pain wasn't getting any easier to deal with. I became dependant on those around me to help me do even the simplest of tasks, such as getting up the stairs to go to the bathroom, or getting in the bath which left both myself and my family feeling frustrated and angry. I felt like it was my fault that this had happened, and that my body had betrayed me in the worst way possible. I was 16 going on 66.
I don't remember exactly when it started to get better, and in a sense it never really will. My condition is chronic, which means that although the pain may not be constant, it will continue to flare up spontaneously and that's something I have learned to cope with. I was afraid to go out by myself, I wasn't allowed to do PE or other vigorous exercise (which is something I still can't do much of today). But I managed to make it to my exams and classes towards the end of the year, and despite missing out on so much I passed. I started to go on days out with my friends again, and I started to piece my life back together.
Today I can go weeks without any pain, and suddenly it will strike, and I'm left feeling sore and upset, particularly when it's close to my time of the month or when the cold weather creeps in. I can't move, I'm in complete agony and it takes days to go away. But I can deal with it now, and I know exactly what to do. I never thought I would be able to work in an environment that involves heavy lifting and standing on my feet all day, but I can do it and deal with any consequences of that. It takes a lot more than a warm, muscle relaxing soak and a few sprays of Deep Heat to combat the pain, but it definitely helps.
The relationship between physical health and mental health is important, and it can be tricky to maintain and nurture. If I had stayed in peak physical condition, there is not a doubt in my mind that my mental health would have been easier to deal with at that age. What happened to me was simply an accident, but that accident made me a prisoner in my own home. I felt lonely, depressed and worried that I would further damage my body. I try my best not to show when I'm in pain, but sciatica is something I will have to deal with for the rest of my life, and I know it will only get worse with time. I only hope that I'll be able to remain positive and bright, even when my body is fighting against me.
I hope by sharing my story I can remind you all to be kind to your body and your mind. Life is precious, and no-one knows when something like this will happen to them. Look after yourselves, love yourselves and share your stories with each other.
Thank you so much for reading. This post is something I have struggled to write for years, so the fact you've made it to the end means so much to me.
Until next time,
Rachel x
When I was sixteen I was diagnosed with chronic sciatica, a condition where the sciatic nerve is compressed, leading to pain in the lower back and legs. I was walking to school on a very cold morning, where there were sheets of black ice all over the pavement. I slipped, fell right on the curve of my spine, the textbooks in my bag pressing against my nerves. I managed to get myself back up, but I was in unimaginable pain, experiencing a strange combination of both aching muscle pain and numbness in my legs. After that, I don't remember getting to school, I don't remember how I got home, or who came to pick me up. The only thing I can remember is my body aching. Initially, none of my family, nor myself, thought that it was serious. I popped some heat patches on the sore parts, kept a hot water bottle by my side and spent a sick day on the sofa. However, it soon become evident that something was seriously wrong.
One morning, I woke up and my entire body felt heavy and aching. I pulled myself to the end of the bed, but when I attempted to stand up my legs gave in and I fell to the ground. I couldn't feel them, I couldn't move - effectively I was paralyzed. Eventually I managed to get myself to the phone where I immediately called my dad and told him something was wrong. Every morning soon became a struggle. Some mornings I could get up, get ready, be at the door to leave and then my legs would give way. Other mornings I couldn't even make it out of bed. I felt like a prisoner in my own body, trapped in my house and afraid to leave in case I collapsed in school.
However, getting a diagnosis was the least of my worries. I had started to miss a lot of school because I couldn't even make it out of bed without being in pain. I went from seeing my friends every day to seeing only my brother, my mum or my dad. I had work sent to me in an effort to keep up with my GCSE classes, and I eventually managed to make it in a couple of days a week, but my anxiety about missing out on so much left me feeling awful, and the pain wasn't getting any easier to deal with. I became dependant on those around me to help me do even the simplest of tasks, such as getting up the stairs to go to the bathroom, or getting in the bath which left both myself and my family feeling frustrated and angry. I felt like it was my fault that this had happened, and that my body had betrayed me in the worst way possible. I was 16 going on 66.
I don't remember exactly when it started to get better, and in a sense it never really will. My condition is chronic, which means that although the pain may not be constant, it will continue to flare up spontaneously and that's something I have learned to cope with. I was afraid to go out by myself, I wasn't allowed to do PE or other vigorous exercise (which is something I still can't do much of today). But I managed to make it to my exams and classes towards the end of the year, and despite missing out on so much I passed. I started to go on days out with my friends again, and I started to piece my life back together.
Today I can go weeks without any pain, and suddenly it will strike, and I'm left feeling sore and upset, particularly when it's close to my time of the month or when the cold weather creeps in. I can't move, I'm in complete agony and it takes days to go away. But I can deal with it now, and I know exactly what to do. I never thought I would be able to work in an environment that involves heavy lifting and standing on my feet all day, but I can do it and deal with any consequences of that. It takes a lot more than a warm, muscle relaxing soak and a few sprays of Deep Heat to combat the pain, but it definitely helps.
The relationship between physical health and mental health is important, and it can be tricky to maintain and nurture. If I had stayed in peak physical condition, there is not a doubt in my mind that my mental health would have been easier to deal with at that age. What happened to me was simply an accident, but that accident made me a prisoner in my own home. I felt lonely, depressed and worried that I would further damage my body. I try my best not to show when I'm in pain, but sciatica is something I will have to deal with for the rest of my life, and I know it will only get worse with time. I only hope that I'll be able to remain positive and bright, even when my body is fighting against me.
I hope by sharing my story I can remind you all to be kind to your body and your mind. Life is precious, and no-one knows when something like this will happen to them. Look after yourselves, love yourselves and share your stories with each other.
Thank you so much for reading. This post is something I have struggled to write for years, so the fact you've made it to the end means so much to me.
Until next time,
Rachel x
- October 12, 2017
- 1 Comments
