Symptoms of Nervous Breakdown

Following my breakdown I scoured websites and books for symptoms, hoping to identify what had happened to me, why it had happened, and when these various maladies might disappear. Too, I was desperate to identify with others, hoping that by acknowledging my symptoms I could somehow, and in some way, get a handle on myself which would enable me to heal.

I should explain that I've always been the stubborn type. Tell me I have a health problem and yes, I'll do what the doctor tells me but, not quite trusting the doctor's advice, I'll also do what I think my body and mind need for recovery. My search for, and understanding, of my personal symptoms hoped to do just that - to increase my chances of, and accelerate, healing. 

But when researching on the Internet, I discovered so many, many symptoms. I had experienced some of these. But many I had not. As with my search for a definition of nervous breakdown, I found the list of symptoms to be dizzying in their length and complexity. 

Somewhere out there, a person suffering from what they think might be a nervous breakdown could very well read this. Therefore, I am now sharing my own symptoms, including certain behaviors, hoping you can identify with them. By doing so, I also hope you realize that a) you are not alone, that many others have - or are currently - experiencing the living nightmare you are going through and b) based on my experience, you have every reason to expect a recovery from all, or most, of these symptoms in the shorter-term.

Shorter-Termed Symptoms of Nervous Breakdown

I experienced the following symptoms during the first days and weeks of my breakdown:

Spiritual / Emotional Symptoms

Fear - profound fear dominated my life. I was afraid, so very afraid, of almost anything and everybody. I was afraid to be alone. I was afraid to be with people. I was afraid that I would die. I was afraid to live. I was afraid of myself and what I would do. I was afraid of others and what they would do. I suspect now that my fear was driven by one primary cause: I had lost control of my life and the world that I understood. Loss of control yields a loss of belief in self, and consequently a complete loss of direction. Rules, benchmarks, and the road maps we have created to survive life disappear. I was lost in a world that was no longer familiar and which had no sense of purpose. My fear - yes! - terrified me. It caused me to lose sleep. I ate little. It flooded my being so much so that it pushed out rational thinking and behavior. Fear controlled me.

I am, of course, still afraid on occasions. We all are. But fear no longer controls my life. 

Paranoia - hand in hand with fear were feelings of paranoia. I no longer trusted anyone. I was convinced that people were attempting to kill me; to destroy me; to take from me my very definition of self in addition to my physical property. Due to paranoia, I had great trouble building trust with anyone. That feeling was compounded by the behaviors of others which proved my distrust to be accurate.

My feelings of paranoia have completely disappeared.

Psychotic episodes - yes, I had a number of them and I'm still ashamed to admit it. I experienced visions. I 'felt' that people were talking to me. This one is difficult to explain... I never heard voices (and in fact, when asked by professionals if I heard voices, I rightly denied it because they had not asked the right question. Too, I knew that what I was experiencing was nuts), but I 'felt' their presence and within that, felt their silent commands or approval. For instance, if I was in a shop looking to buy a present for someone, I would know that I would be guided to the right place to find it. And voila, that's exactly what would happen. Or if I was taking a walk and was confused how to get to a certain place, I knew that I would be guided in the right direction. And most of the time, I was. Of course, there are perfectly logical reasons why I did what I did: why I got to my final destination; why I found what I did to purchase. But these episodes were persistent for about a year. Oddly, I found great comfort in them, coming to believe that I was being protected by a power much greater than myself. While these were certainly psychotic episodes, I'm glad that I had these types rather than those of the destructive variety. And as I grow healthier and stronger, I take solace in the hope that perhaps someone or something really was protecting me. God knows, I needed the help.

Feelings of Grandeur - yep, I'm sorry to say I had those too. For a while - perhaps a month following the breakdown - I felt that I could do no wrong nor be hurt (which is odd: my delusions of grandeur contrasted spectacularly with the fear that I consistently felt. But breakdowns are illogical and unpredictable. So these contrasting symptoms are perfectly reasonable within the context of breaking down). My most memorable moment of grandeur: I became convinced that I could help everyone to achieve their personal dreams. I vividly remember one poor woman who happened to sit by me in a restaurant. As I remember, we discussed the business that she hoped to soon start. All that she required was funding. I told her - and I believed it - that I was a venture capitalist; that her idea had sound merit; that I was perfectly willing to help. In fact, I had established a large financial trust to help people of similar merit. I gave her my card as we parted. Luckily, she must have sensed the ludicrous nature of our conversation because she never contacted me. 

Everything was a Metaphor - for a few weeks, everything that I looked at or heard or touched or experienced represented something else. A deeper symbolism, perhaps. A meaning that few others could see but which I could understand. I would see incredible love in a small flower. I would see peace in the vibrant contrasting colors of nature. I would hear tranquility in a dove's coo-ing. Yes, of course this makes perfect sense on some levels. But during this period, these metaphors possessed a magic and a super-reality that I also took comfort in, and that I still have trouble explaining today. 

Depression - I could become severely depressed for days at a time. The depression fed into my feelings of fear, which reinforced the depression. It became a vicious cycle. In time I was able to break that cycle.

Anxiety - similarly, and for a wide range of reasons discussed in earlier Posts, I suffered high levels of anxiety (see Fear, above).

Mania - motivated and coerced by fear, I experienced two or three episodes of mania. That is: I was emotionally 'higher than a kite'. During these periods I had incredible energy. I could work for hours at a time. Once, and despite having less than an hour's sleep the night before, I drove 7 hours straight without stopping and with no apparent ill effects. These manic episodes occurred, as I say, only 2 or 3 times (which was more than enough, let me tell you) but quickly disappeared and have not reappeared since those early days of the breakdown.

Isolation - during the early days especially, I desired to isolate myself from everyone I knew. I suspect that this was due to a few reasons. First, I was extremely ashamed of what was happening to me, and also fearful of those around me. Second, I suspect that my body and mind searched for rest, much as most animals do when they are injured. This symptom also quickly left me. 

Physical Symptoms

I also experience the following physical symptoms during, and directly following, my breakdown:

Dizziness - and this one too I have trouble explaining. Though my balance might be perfect, I perceived the world around me as being out of kilter by a good 45 degrees. These periods are made worse whenever stress levels or anxiety increased. I suspect that this feeling of dizziness is a reaction to adrenalin as it pumps through my body.

Sweating - during the first few days of breakdown I sweated profusely. I'm sure this was due to a number of factors: increased blood pressure and metabolism, extreme anxiety / fear; increased adrenalin output. This symptom disappeared quickly.

Trembling - particularly of the hands, which has also completely disappeared.

Exhaustion - and who wouldn't be? All I wanted to do was sleep which was my body's reaction to the situation, and a good one it was, too. Sleeping helped me to heal. I welcomed it. However, many times and despite being exhausted I could not sleep simply because I was too frightened or anxious to do so. 

Panic Attacks - I experienced only one of these. One was enough. I never want to go there again.

Inability to Cope - and while this is not physical, it was all-encompassing. I could no longer cope with any additional stress. I could not deal with people. I made very, very poor decisions due to many of the symptoms outlined above. For instance, I resigned a highly profitable client in the belief that I wasn't doing a good job for that company. That's just one of them. Many others were to follow.

Complications Due to PTSD

On top of all this, and as the result of the fire, I suffered symptoms of PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder). Mind you, the marital separation and wedding were also traumatic events and I suspect that some of these symptoms were already present, though I chose to ignore them.

My PTSD symptoms included:

Fight or flight - when confronted by a traumatic event, human beings - and many other living creatures - take action to defend themselves. Fight or flight behavior is part of our natural defense mechanism. We either fight, and confront our adversary, or we fly, escaping from that which terrifies us. In my case I did both: I 'fought' back, occasionally exhibiting eruptions of anger toward real or imagined adversaries, or I took flight, usually climbing in my car to escape, or locking the door to keep danger out.

Both behaviors disappeared within a few months of the fire.

Nightmares and flashbacks - of the traumatic event occurred sporadically. The nightmares were powerfully terrifying in which I, or my loved ones, died. Flashbacks could occur at anytime. Usually, those flashbacks incorporated traumatic memories of the fire. Triggers included sights and sounds (such as ambulances, police cars, and fire trucks, as well as sirens and alarms), and smells especially the smell of smoke. Nightmares have almost completely disappeared. Flashbacks continue to occur. These little beasts incite illogical feelings of fear within me which can linger all day long.

Hyper-vigilance - exactly as the name implies. I was 'hyper-watching' all the time. I suspect that this is a natural reaction to trauma: we all become more aware of our surroundings in order to protect ourselves. Physically, I became jumpy, restless, and continually irritable. I had trouble concentrating. This symptom has completely eased since the fire.

Three Years Later: Longer-Termed Symptoms

The symptoms of the breakdown worked to wreck much of my life. During the past three years, I have - and continue to - work hard to re-build what I have lost. But it's working. Slowly, slowly, things are coming right. To be frank, I'm not certain that I will ever fully recover. I know that my work life has been severely affected. Today, I only work half time as opposed to the many, many hours I used to be capable of working. But it's coming back, and all by keeping focused and through a hell of a lot of discipline.

Some symptoms continue to affect me, but to a much lesser degree than before, no matter what I've done to eliminate them. These include:

Dizziness as above - especially during times of high stress leading to anxiety

Inability to Focus - occasionally I will be unable to focus on a task at hand. This drives me nuts as I've always been highly motivated and highly focused.
Flashbacks - of the fire

Periods of sleeplessness - lasting approximately 3 nights when they occur.

Periods of depression - lasting for up to 4 days, and usually brought on by something that's gone wrong in my life, or triggered by a memory that saddens me or makes me anxious. I work hard to not to sink into these, and must work even harder to get out of them when I'm in them.

Critical Psychological Effects

But even more importantly, and since all of these events, some of the very fabric of my being has changed. The nervous breakdown, together with those other events that compounded this, have changed how I look at myself and my future.  Four years ago I like to think I was confident and hope-filled. Today I lack self-esteem, am often not confident in my capabilities, and can easily lose hope. Even little things - an unthinking comment or slight from a friend or acquaintance - can send me into a tailspin.

I used to think I was fairly 'attractive'. That I had much to give people. Now I'm not sure. I have to argue with myself to stay positive. Often a little voice in the corner of my mind will say, "You're worthless. You have nothing to offer. You're a bad man." At those times it takes all of my energy to fight this whispering devil. And I can only do so with exercise and sleep.

Nervous breakdowns are destroyers. We end up fighting not only ourselves but those external people who are supposed to help because they either do not know how to help or use methods that are ineffective. We fight in order to survive and we often have to fight alone.

Symptoms of nervous breakdown are complex in their display and presentation, often misunderstood, and can - as we have all read - result in death if improperly treated. Symptoms can also last for the longer-term, affecting a person's self-image, their ability to earn a living, relationships, futures...their entire lives.

Only self-awareness, a great deal of humility, and a whole lot of self-help (coupled with professional and family support) can allow a nervous breakdown sufferer like me to arise Phoenix-like from his or her ashes. To do so requires a re-building of personal resilience, and an understanding that life - as I knew it pre-breakdown - has changed forever.