Mental health and my ostomy

Disclaimer: This information within this blog discusses mental health, anxiety and depression which may be a sensitive topic to certain viewers.

My stoma journey started in 2009 when I had emergency surgery to repair a bowel perforation, this resulted in 3 weeks on life support and 3 months in hospital.

I can say without a shadow of a doubt that this shaped me into the woman I am today. Gallows humour aside this experience shaped 15 years of dealing with PTSD and fun with anxiety issues alongside a battle of depression this year.

PTSD

For those of us that have spent a long time on intensive care and on life support, PTSD can be a long lasting by product of that situation. Mine now mainly manifests in night terrors whilst sleeping and mind numbing anxiety in highly stressed situations.

I have had counselling for this and I also retake CBT therapy if I find my anxiety is getting out of control again. Unfortunately the medications used to treat anxiety aren’t allowed anymore due to myself always having low blood pressure and the medication lowering it even more.

My night terrors aren’t overly fun for my husband, he has said that I’m like a squirrel on speed in my sleep: I kick, I flinch, I shout and I am one massive fidget. This doesn’t happen all the time but it has been more frequent as I’m anxious about a looming surgery and the sleeping Louise acts out all the worries that daytime Louise keeps a lid on.

Insomnia has also been a byproduct of the PTSD. I have one fear and that fear is of dying, having been close to death and having been resuscitated a fair few times in my life. This has led 15 years of insomnia and being able to live off of 3-4 hours sleep a night. I can’t remember the last time I slept through the night, this does have a knock on affect that means I require an afternoon nap on a regular basis. I think that is purely a fail safe my body requires as I feel safer sleeping in the day.

In really high stress situations, which always coincide with having had surgery, I have to be sedated to sleep whilst on intensive care as my body goes into fight or flight mode. My poor husband has had phone calls from the unit staff saying he might want to bring pyjamas for me with him as I had cut myself out of my last pair; I still don’t know where I got those scissors from but it’s possible they came out of my stoma kit… Alongside shouting “hey Google turn off the bedroom lights”. We all laugh about that now but back then, I deeply apologised for my loopy behaviour caused by all the medications and my PTSD.

Anxiety

For most of my adult life I have been a fidget. I don’t enjoy chilling out and I always find something to do, I also have a habit of bouncing my leg or tapping my foot when I’m overwhelmed or overly anxious. For some this can be annoying but Ben knows what I’m like and he understands me better than I understand myself so for the most part if I start bouncing or I get up, he will come and help me do whatever I chose to do at the time so we can sit down and enjoy the film marathon.

My anxiety can also make me rather loud when meeting new people. I’m an extroverted introvert. I have learned to control the loudness for the best part but it’s always something that I have to think about when meeting new people.

I probably re-do the silver cloud CBT therapy every couple of years if I find myself not being able to control the anxiety. I have tried the medication but having had several bouts of sepsis, the one outcome of that has led to my blood pressure being a little on the low side and they typically control anxiety with beta blockers and the one side effect for me is that they make me sleepy to the point of falling asleep whilst eating.

Depression

I never thought that I would suffer from depression. I’ve always been the person that puts all the bad things into mental boxes and locking them up and puts them at the back of my mind where they can’t be recalled.

Spending a lot of the past year on bed rest and limited days out to the hospital has had an epic impact on my mental health.

I am known as the person who finds light and laughter in every situation until they put me on Zoladex. Chemical Menopause has turned me into a person I do not recognise. It has been quite brutal because I can not control my emotions, I have become rather short fused with my temper, I can’t control the tears and I’m not the person you would want to be around (my own neurosis).

Not having periods and gut wrenching pain from those for half the month has been amazing. But this has led to me either sleeping or hiding away In the pit that is our bedroom. I am just so fed up of not being in control of my own body. Once I’ve had the surgery, I am booking myself a rage room as I feel that will be therapeutic and I can release some of the damage that this has caused to my mental health.

Not wanting to shower, take care of myself or eating led to a trip up to the GP and I am now on an increased dose of sertraline. It has helped somewhat, however becoming more active and doing the housework when I have enough energy has made me feel more productive and less of a burden. I’ve also taken back up some hobbies such as colouring and loom knitting to tire out my mind.

As always,

Many thanks for reading

Louise | @crohnsfighting Xx