Its very easy, in this place, to be negative about what mental healthcare has actually managed to achieve on a personal level. But as I am a objective individual with little bias, I shall attempt to analyse my own sojourns into the realms of mental [ill]health.
I have always had a penchant for anxiety, but being a man, in a city, you do not show others weakness as they will pounce on you in a heartbeat. So you do all the macho crap to fit in with peers and not get picked on by others. So lets not talk openly about shit like emotions please, thats for women and woofters. So you can imagine from that, one does get very good at hiding personal issues from a young age.
My parents split before I was out of nappies [diapers to the heathen] my father was physically abusive when drunk, which was too frequent. My step father was no better. I was in the care system from just before my 12th birthday. Then in and out of trouble for the rest of my teens. So there were without doubt, environmental issues throughout childhood that were instrumental in bringing towards where I am today.
I enjoyed drugs and drink. Sex was not important. Hanging with the boys, taking whatever we could get our hands on and drinking large quantities of beer were what mattered. That gave me around 3 years that I just do not remember. I have had various "flashback" moments, but can make no sense of any of them. I believe that period is also partly responsible for where I am right now [in health terms]. Glue and petrol sniffing definitely killed a lot of brain cells.
20's and 30's were pretty uneventful. Found a good woman with her own child, lived with them, child is the nearest thing I will ever have to one of my own, we were happy. 40's began well. Good job, good money, holidays, car, then the greatest gift of them all arrived in 2007, a beautiful granddaughter. Live was as good as it had ever been. Early 2008 put paid to all that.
Chickenpox was my downfall. A simple little virus. Before that event, I had managed to put all my shit in jars and stacked them nicely in that big cupboard called a mind and was getting on with living. I was super fit and active. I lost my job, my income, my ability to cope, my dignity and my hope. The slow descent had begun without me even knowing it. I had never had depression to the best of my knowledge and had managed to hide insecurities pretty well from the world.
By 2016 I had had enough. Thats when I got involved with mental health services.
Crisis team: Oh well, no doubt they have the best of intentions, but as far as doing anything remotely "productive" towards recovery, forget it, they are there to try to help keep you alive.
Resident Psyche on Ward: Stopped all meds. Made me feel totally inadequate as a human being. Was not, or gave that impression, interested in what had happened to get me to take my own life. Very judgemental.
CMHT: Tried hard. But a severe lack of understanding of the issues faced by depressive, anxious people. Mean well, of that there is no doubt in my mind, but struggle with the red tape that restricts how effective they can be.
ADS: Group therapy helped me in the short term. Because the service is classed as Acute, it is only available for around 3 months. After that, you are on your own kid. Taught me a fair bit about depression and anxiety and suggested ways and means of tackling them when they were at their worst. Great service, yes it was not perfect, but for me, it was what I needed after my first 2 attempts.
Psych [Head docs]: If they could be bothered to listen, it didn't show. Total waste of time as I just repeated my story over and over again.
Medication: I am not sure on this. The antidepressants have not prevented my suicidal ideations or my frequent drops into the troughs of despair. I am at a point where I was before I attempted, so I think medication has not really helped. It could be dosage that is wrong, or I might need some other form of medication. I do think initially, the placebo effect was very strong. I was told they would work, so I believed them. Did I feel any "better"? Yes, for about 6 months. Then I have slowly slipped backwards. I do thing that there are other factors in play though and it is not just about medication.
Sorry its a essay, but I have tried my best not to just say "oh its all crap, my experiences were all bad" as that is not true. Overall, I would say that I have been disappointed but some of that detail is down to my own expectations of what is still a very ambiguous "science".