Invisible illnesses can be difficult to identify in yourself and in others. I have had first hand experience of being a sufferer of an invisible illness in 2007. I was diagnosed with a moderate stage of severe depression and post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). 2007 was the year that changed my life for the better and I am a much stronger, grateful and mindful person for it. It is however, much easier to say this now, almost 11 years later and to see the positive changes that eventually came from the horrific accident I experienced on 22 July. At the time and after the accident for almost two years, it didn’t feel like it was a positive pivotal life changing experience. In fact, I often wished that the ground would just swallow me whole. I was broken, scared, and felt alone.
On 22 July, after a fabulous girls holiday, my sister, friend and I decided to go to a nightclub to celebrate a friend's birthday. My sister and I were due to fly to Jamaica the next day with our mum, brother and other friends. The nightclub was in Leeds and we were in my hometown of Huddersfield, and so we jumped in my friend's car and made our way to Leeds. There had been lots of heavy rain during the few weeks prior and the ground was very wet and saturated. Following the poor weather, a bend in the motorway and I'm sure many other variables, my friend lost control of the car and we headed into the hard shoulder of the motorway at a fast speed, rolling in the car 5 times over.
My sister had been thrown out of the car nearly 100 yards down the motorway from where the car crashed and eventually stopped rolling. My friend went through the front window when the car was turning and it pinned her. Both of their physical injuries were extensive. My sister broke her pelvis in three places, her wrist and shoulder on the same arm and had a large and deep gash in her other arm which she needed surgery to close. My friend’s lung collapsed, she fractured her spine and broke a few ribs. My sister was unconscious on the side of the road and my friend, screamed, shouting my name for a long time. My friend was critical for the first 24 hours.
I am ecstatic, relieved, thankful and many more emotions that they both survived and are well and thriving in life. Both are also now mummies to wonderful children.
Now my physical injuries were minor compared to my sister and friend. I had a deep cut on my forehead my left arm had lots of cuts from the glass. I was the last one to go to the hospital and the first one to be discharged the next day. I am very lucky and have a far greater appreciation for a seatbelt than I did before the accident. All my family were surprised by my resiliency and focussed on my sister (rightly so). At first, the affects of the accident appeared through the obvious whiplash and a fear of getting in cars, literally anyone's car other than my parents' cars. However about 12 months later, I started with very bad dreams of my loved ones dying and flashbacks of the accident. I woke up every morning for almost 4 months with my body in shock and no control over my legs at all. It would take me a very long time each morning to find movement in my legs to get out of bed and start the day. I became withdrawn, began to suffer from migraines, I put on a lot of weight, broke up with a long term partner, found a new boyfriend who really wasn’t right for me, fell pregnant and had a miscarriage, I ignored a lot of my friends and barely told my family how I was feeling who were all in Huddersfield and I was in London. I spiralled, all whilst trying to have a normal life as a newly graduated law student, keen to find a training contract and qualify as a lawyer. I was a mess.
It eventually became too much for me, my mind was destroying all aspects of my life and I really didn’t know what to do. One very random day, I had a brief moment of clarity within the mental fog, which reminded me of what I wanted out of life and how I used to dream big of what the future might look like. In that moment, I decided to get help. I met with a cognitive behavioural therapist and my treatment lasted for about 2 years.
I honestly think once you are a sufferer of an invisible illness, it will never truly leave you, but the skills you learn during your rehabilitation really prepare you to spot the signs early and make adjustments that serve you well. I often describe it as a 'slippery slope' and when you are sliding down that slope, you have time to catch yourself so you don’t continue to slip. I still have the occasional dream, but I understand what it means now and I try and face those feelings and work through them. I'm still not comfortable in cars and if I am in a car with a driver who is driving too quickly, I make no apologies for my feelings and I ask that them slow down. If they don’t, I get out of the car. My health and safety is the priority, not the destination I am on my way to with the speedy driver.
I learnt many lessons from the accident and my rehabilitation, and I would like to share some with you.
You are an emotional being, accept it and face the feeling
Our emotions are not always in check with the logical part of our brains and we often talk ourselves into ignoring the feeling that something is not right or the lull in your stomach. Avoiding this feeling doesn’t make it go away. In fact, it means it stays for longer and in some cases, grows, and becomes a bigger problem.
Exorcise the darkness
If you don’t want to face the feeling on your own, talk to someone. If you don’t want to talk to someone, write it down. Whatever you do, exorcise that feeling out of you and try to make sense of it. I honestly don’t think I would be where I am in my life, if I didn’t have the professional help at the time when I needed it the most.
Try to control the overspill
It is very easy, when you suffer from an invisible illness (depending on the illness) to allow it to feed through to every part of your life. It is even easier to take the passenger position in your life when this illness strikes. Try not to place blame elsewhere, particularly with your loved ones. Focus on you and your future. Dream of what your future will be like. You have a lot more power, to write your story from here on out, than you think.
Pay attention to the slippery slope
If you are out of the worst part of your invisible illness, I am sending a huge hug and congratulations to you! So that you limit the chance of you feeling this way again, always check in with yourself and work through emotions or darker feelings if they arise.
I fully acknowledge that one size does not fit all, and you may suffer from an invisible illness that is far more severe and life altering than what I have experienced. My suggestions are not in any way aimed at simplifying your experiences and I encourage everyone to seek the professional medical help they need. I hope that just by sharing my experiences, I can help brighten the light at the end of the tunnel for some of you.
You've got this!
Charlene Brown | Founder of Honest Voice
@charlenelbrown