Three weeks later I suffered a nervous breakdown

For any one who has not suffered from a nervous breakdown, it is probably one of the worst thing that can happen to someone. Something inside breaks.

All my defenses, all the things that kept me safe left. I was at the jumping off point. (Please read page 152 of the Big Book describes it better than I do.)

There is a lot of misinformation about nervous breakdowns, for example in the Daily Mail’s article 2017 it lists 8 common signs,  if you need to take a test to know you are not having one.


You are dying from the inside out

The feelings of utter despair and hopelessness made me understand why people commit suicide. The feelings where so unbearable that I thought if they continue I will jump of a bridge or drink forever. IF YOU FEEL LIKE THIS OR THIS IS WHAT YOU ARE GOING THROUGH THEN SEEK HELP CALL 999 RIGHT NOW, FORGET ANY EMBARRASSMENT OR SHAME JUST DO IT.

Suicide is not painless

People who think suicide is dramatic or selfish have not experienced that level of pain. In that state they is no conscious thought other that this cannot carry on, it is unbearable, it must end as soon as possible, a bridge a knife just stop the feelings dead.

It is LITERALLY hell on earth, you will do anything to stop the pain. I was hearing voices in my head, I was constantly panicking, I was covered in sweat and could not bear to be left alone.

But I was alone, I was at my parents house, they were abroad, I could not leave as I panicked on the motorway and had to turn back, I was trapped in the awful fucking bungalow. I dare not drink or take drugs in case I made it even worse. I tried to sit really still, no to even breath exactly as I did when I tried to heal my broken neck.

I eventually drove to London using the logic that I would rather die on the motorway than kill myself alone here.

I drove to London, my flatmates could see something was wrong and offered beer as a solution. I chained smoked and decided I had never really given champagne a go so spent my last £50. My girlfriend came round, I was now paranoid that if the feelings came back I would kill myself and I did not want to die.

The next day I called my parents back from holiday and they took me to a special hospital for the mentally ill. It was a silent hospital for patients who could hardly talk. It was not rehab, it was more like an expensive asylum. It was not a locked ward, as none of us could hardly walk let alone escape.

Little did I know it put I had added another trauma which would trigger off full blown PTSD.