The Girl Who Has it All

My first day of college at 18 years of age was not a daunting prospect, but an exhilarating one for a positive, fun-loving and friendly girl such as myself. The college life lived up to my expectations… for a while. From excellent grades to a top social life with great friends and no lack of male attention I appeared to have it all… and I did for a while.

Second semester of first year arrived and my mood dipped a little, without warning or reason. I wasn’t as carefree or as happy as I would normally be. I decided it was down to living at home and having to commute to college and that the solution to my unexplained low-mood was to move in with other students near my University. To my surprise it actually worked! I moved out, had a little too much fun, kept up the good grades, found myself a boyfriend and I had it all once more.

However, the low-mood slowly crept back, and this time it returned with more intensity. I became anxious, I started to worry unnecessarily, I stopped enjoying socialising and began to dread college nights out. I would cry into my pillow and feel guilty about feeling down. I started to reach out to my parents to collect me and I would stay at home more often as I didn’t enjoy living out anymore. The girl who has it all shouldn’t feel down – I began to beat myself up and became immersed in the guilt.

This time it was more serious, but I reached out. I spoke to my parents and asked for support. My Dad brought me to the GP and we explained my unnatural low mood and unnerving anxiety. The GP put it down to female adolescence and wanted to avoid medication but told us if it declined further to come back. Life went on and I was to start my first placement – Teaching Practice, a daunting prospect to even the best of students. The anxiety around it was crippling.

My first day came and I was very low, but I thought to myself, “when you’re down, dress up”. I arrived into school with a fashionable outfit and a fake yet convincing smile – I seemed fine, more than fine actually. I nervously introduced myself in front of my first class of 2nd years (notoriously the most difficult bunch). To my amazement, they were lovely and for the first time in a long time my timid smile was genuine. The days progressed and honestly I enjoyed the teaching experience – it was a distraction, it took me out of my own head and away from my negative thoughts. The preparation was the hard part, when I would get home to be alone with my thoughts. I was losing weight and getting complimented on my appearance regularly. I couldn’t believe I could ‘physically’ look so well and ‘mentally’ feel so unwell. It didn’t make sense. The guilt heightened. The girl who had it all was the only one who couldn’t see it…

The weeks went by and there wasn’t a single day where I felt like getting out of bed let alone dressing up to go to school and teach science. However, I did it. With tremendous family support, I did it. I got through placement with full attendance – excluding the half day for the MRI scan on my back. It was ‘stress’ I was told – the pain was from the stress. He hadn’t ever encountered someone so young yet so stressed.

I started counselling. I cried a lot but she was good. I was very articulate, very expressive and very self-aware. I was all of these things but it still wasn’t picked up. Again, “it will pass, it’s not uncommon for a girl your age to feel this way.” I stopped meeting friends as I felt I would bring them down and that I wouldn’t be nice company. I met one friend on her pleading request. She opened my eyes. I told her how I was feeling and that the guilt was the worst part. It was a difficult conversation for both of us. She opened up about a mental breakdown she had herself a year back. She explained that the guilt was expected, but that I had to believe this wasn’t my fault. “It’s an illness – your mind is sick and it’s not your fault you’re feeling like this, it’s out of your control”. It hadn’t been explained to me in this way before. I believed her – it made perfect sense. I was sick, in some way, my mind was sick. I wasn’t myself.

Knowledge is power and with this I decided I was going to take action. I decided to move to Galway to live with my best friend and get a nice job for myself. I moved up and I had a pick of jobs – three interviews and all successful. They saw something special in me – and to my delight, so did I. Once again I had it all.

It was all going so well, for a while. I took up a job in a big retail store where I not only enjoyed meeting customers and selling fashion, but I was good at it! I worked my way up from an eight hour contract to a six day week. The manager knew I had a talent, and he wanted to use that to his advantage. I can still remember a friends saying, “mind yourself won’t you, no one should work six day weeks.” I didn’t understand this – but why say no to hours when I could have them all. I was buzzing, literally. My thoughts were racing, I became creative, successful and confident. Too confident. I worked every day and went out every night. I thought it was the summer of a lifetime – the summer of my dreams. I had it all.

I started to get carried away. I was hard to be around. Loud, very loud. Excited, too excited. Artistic, very artistic. Confident, too confident. My mind got carried away and I started imagining things. At the start it was marvellous. I had met my husband, I was getting married. I was taking on a second job, I was going to win the lotto. I was going to have it all. Then things began to change…

I had a terrible foreboding feeling. Something bad was going to happen, I was positive of this. I was scared. My room was a mess – it mirrored my mind. I rang my mom to tell her. She spoke to Dad whose response was, “it’s like a runaway train”. They were in Galway to collect me in no time. I didn’t want them to come. I believed they were in grave danger if they did.

They tried Shannondoc and I was submitted to ward 5B in the Regional immediately. The time in there was a blur, but it was necessary. I met a man who changed my life – a Nigerian doctor. I had figured it out even before he told me. Bipolar disorder. Those two words explained my life for the past three years. Initially I was prescribed a mood stabiliser – olanzapine. It didn’t suit me as I gained weight, developed dry skin and became nauseous. A lovely nurse requested I be put on aripiprazole – a drug without side effects, on a minimal dose which suited me.

The recovery was the biggest challenge. I found it hard to breath, hard to walk, hard to concentrate, hard to believe in myself. I went back to college but I wasn’t ready. I went back to the gym but I wasn’t ready. I took a year out and I regained some confidence.

Three years on I’m twenty-three. I achieved an A1 grade on my final teaching practice. I finished my science teaching degree and will be graduating with a 2.1 honours and an outstanding School Placement Award. I’m now grateful for and appreciate everything I do have rather than taking it for granted that ‘I have it all’.