Uticopa Blog

At the age of thirty-five I was working at a residential home in Liverpool. Although I had worked there for several years, I had begun to feel that my life was like ground hog day. Every day seemed the same: no change, same old routine. My life was just so boring.  I knew, deep down, that something was missing from my life but I didn’t know exactly what it was. Problems started to get worse.

Eventually I gave up my job and tried a different career in the hope that things might improve. But all I could get was a job working in a supermarket stacking shelves and unloading lorries. It soon became clear that this was no better. Some senior staff thought that I was over-qualified for the job I was doing and should be doing something else.

It was when I began to work nights that I felt strange. The dull and boring feelings set in again but this time with a vengeance. I was beginning to feel worse. I was being bullied by senior male staff and getting bad dreams in the day; these were recurrent and very real. They seemed always to involve people from my past, particularly two men who had raped me as a teenager. Over the months the dreams got worse and I was beginning to get suicidal ideas. I contemplated killing myself by cutting my wrists.

Eventually I told my mother and she took me to my GP. As she sat in the waiting room, I found myself telling the doctor about my rape ordeal for the first time since it happened. I knew then I had to tell my mother and she would tell my father as I found it difficult to talk to him. I had grown up with asthma and dyslexia but at this stage was unaware that it was called dyslexia.

I was diagnosed as having clinical depression and prescribed anti-depressants. All I wanted to do was sit in a darkened room and do nothing. It felt like I was travelling down a dark tunnel, the only sound being the screams in my head. Was I going mad? I thought I knew people were in the room but I couldn't communicate with them. My life seemed to be over.

As I began to lift from this darkness a light appeared at the end of the tunnel. One hope emerged: friends were coming over from Sweden who said they were determined to help me. But I was at the most dangerous and vulnerable stage of my depression, picking up strength for suicide......

Fortunately my friends did arrive from Sweden and they stayed with me. My mother must have also sensed that I was again contemplating suicide and seemed to be around me more than ever. Local friends also encouraged me out and watched me closely. I did have opportunities to kill myself, but resisted.

I eventually sought work away from home and went to a holiday camp in Blackpool as a photographer. In this time I only experienced one relapse when I forgot to order my repeat prescription of anti-depressants and experienced problems with panic attacks, hyperventilation and palpitations. I was helped by friends there and the duty nurse was called out.

I met my future wife Anne in Blackpool and we were soon engaged. I came to live in Manchester and began to wean myself off the anti-depressants. We started a family and now have four children.  After years of training, I am now an RGN with a string of qualifications and I’m even studying back at University for my RMN.

I know I’ve been ill and feel I’ve had a lucky escape. But I’m well now and prepared to help others as much as I can. 

Please learn from my story so that you too can overcome depression.

Names have been changed.