I Will Not Be Afraid Anymore

The more I try to get a handle on my breakdown - of how to fix myself - the more elusive the answers become. There are periods of time - days in fact - when I can only shake my head at the situation I've created for myself, and of the insane behavior that I engaged in to get me here.

A breakdown, as I have said in previous posts and as I'll again reiterate, is a destroyer. It destroys families and relationships, businesses, dreams, wealth, careers, and self-confidence. During my breakdown, I became unrecognizable to myself, my family and my friends. Not only physically but behaviorally. I grew a beard, something I'd never done before. I dressed differently, strangely, in loose-fitting garments. When I think back - and I shudder to do so, such is the shame I still feel - I believe that I saw myself in my mind's eye then as some sort of prophet or guru or healer. I hoped, I think, to help others. To be frank, it is something that I have always wanted to do. Due to my family history, I was raised as a caregiver. I guess, in my insanity, that call to action was made large as if I had become a physical caricature of what I most wanted. Thinking back, however, I only became a crazy fool.

My decision making and judgmental capabilities were similarly impaired. In other words, I made some crazy, crazy decisions during the period of extreme breakdown. Decisions that, with a sounder mind, I would never have remotely considered.

In a two week period immediately following the breakdown I: bought a house; bought a boat; bought a truck; bought thousands and thousands of dollars of new IT equipment that had no real purpose; took a number of international flights that I could not afford. Most of these 'investments' have, now, no value. Instead, the memory of them causes me extreme angst. But in defense of the crazy man that I was then, I think that what I was doing was looking for safety. The house that I bought and that I now live in reminded me of a childhood home in which I had experienced much happiness. The boat and truck were memories of a much younger me and my father and the times we spent together in his boat and a truck so very similar to the ones I bought. The IT equipment had to do with absurd plans that I had to form a business that was to help others. The holidays - well, those were just 'because', I guess. Because I was running from myself and the extreme fear and paranoia that I was experiencing.

For me, the breakdown was all about fear, and fear is what I've been left with - even now, three years later. Scratch the person that is the 'me' in recovery and you'll discover fear. Fear of what I did. Fear of what I became and perhaps, I fear, I could still become. Fear of neighbors and friends and what they might do to me still. Fear of finances and of running out of money because I find working to be almost impossible. Fear of being alone. Fear of being with others.

Fear has enveloped my being. It courses through my blood like a chilling Autumn. It can make me dizzy, causes me nightmares, and often makes me want to isolate myself behind a locked door even though I am also afraid now of being alone. It is the damnedest thing because when I really try to think about it I know that the fear has no basis in reality. I know I'm okay, at least on some levels. I know that monsters don't lurk outside the door. Rather the monster lurks in me.

Fear is just that, I guess. A monster that is the residual of the breakdown I experienced. My fears are irrational. But they are also terrifying.

If you or someone you know has - or is - experiencing a breakdown, they may be similarly afraid even if there is no logic to that fear. Getting over it - or through it - is so very difficult. In my case, professional counseling is helping. Yoga also helps me to relax and take my focus off of my fear. And a simple mantra that I say to myself over and over again, "I will not be afraid anymore" also seems to help. I do know that recovering from mental illness is a long journey. Mine is still continuing, and it will I suspect for some time.

Nervous breakdowns - or any kind of mental illness - is a horrible experience. Surviving mental illness and a breakdown is difficult. Recovering from one is just as difficult. But by taking things one day, one minute, one moment at a time; by getting professional help; by trying to learn to trust myself again and re-gain my confidence; I strive every day to continue my recovery.

All I want is to be able to look at myself in the mirror and realize that the man I used to be has come back and can be trusted. He no longer has to hide because he is no longer controlled by fear.

How to Help Someone Recover from Nervous Breakdown

Having suffered a breakdown, I have been asked how friends and relatives can constructively support those that have gone through a similar event. The answer is, With love and comfort.  But remember that recovery is a long process. Those having suffered from a breakdown can often slip backwards due to a number of factors. To help, you must understand why this occurs, provide constructive support, and practice the patience of many saints.


"Triggers". That's the word that mental health experts (including my therapist) use to describe events that can push a person into nervous breakdown. Triggers can also cause those trying desperately to recover from nervous breakdown to re-experience the emotional tsunami that they incurred during the height of illness.

Triggers can cause a person trying to heal to slip back into the dark cave of fear, loneliness, and trauma. They can also cause a person suffering from mental illness to suffer yet again from breakdown. For that reason alone, I do everything that I can to avoid triggers. Unfortunately, life is full of them.

Take this week. It's not a good week. Every now and then, it seems that I'm confronted by a vortex of stressful, emotionally charged situations. These are not good for my mental health and I know it. But somehow, I have to deal with them.

Over the past week: I learned that my father, whom I love dearly, has pancreatic cancer. A business deal that I stupidly became involved in during the height of my breakdown 3 years ago has gone pear-shaped and is causing a great deal of stress, anger, and fear. My core business as a writer continues to suffer. I begin to worry that in only a few months I won't be able to pay for the basics. For the first time in my life I'm experiencing a nagging physical problem. My GP is so concerned that she has ordered an MRI. I am also confronting other issues - other triggers. Smaller issues that grow larger in my mind. When I can look at these smaller challenges rationally, I realize that they are not worth worrying about. But during high-stress days or weeks, these smaller issues flood my being with additional fear. And the internal critic starts again: "It's been 3 years since the breakdown. For God's sake grow up and get a grip!"

The carefully constructed cocoon of healthy behaviors that I've constructed begins to erode. As the darkness falls, I'll begin to forget what I've learned. Sleep becomes difficult. Nightmares re-occur. Hands begin to shake. I'll stop eating correctly. I'll stop exercising. I'll forget to practice the tools that I've been taught. My world is once again a place of hopelessness. What I really want is for it to all stop. For someone, something, to intervene and to take the nightmare that I've experienced, and re-experienced, away once and for all.

But as I've stated in other Posts, recovering from mental breakdown is my responsibility. No one else, really, is going to help me to recover. Except me.

But, and a big BUT: if you are the friend or relative of someone suffering from breakdown, you can help by encouraging positive action. To understand how to do so, you must realize that if your loved one has gone through a breakdown, they are inclined to engage in some very crazy, very illogical, very scary thinking....

Dealing with the Darkness

Fortunately, I've also learned that during these times of darkness I hit some sort of bottom. I know that things will - must - get better. My training seems to finally kick in. This morning, for instance, I realized that I needed to do some Yoga. I'd promised to work at this at least 5 days a week, but I hadn't bothered in over 4 days. I made myself practice this for 30 minutes. I made myself take a shower, get dressed, start working despite the fact that my brain is so over-loaded that what I might write could very well make little sense. I'll make myself go down and get something to eat. I'll make myself focus on something in my life that is filled with hope and joy - my grandchildren, perhaps. Or the beauty of the far hills that I can see from my windows. 

I'll plan out my day so that I know it will be as full as I can make it. I set myself a simple goal: get through this day in one piece without going crazy. That's all I have to do. Just make it through this one day. Tomorrow, I know, will take care of itself. It sounds so simple. Yet it's a great deal of work.

I could use some help, but my healthy thinking is replaced with fear and self-loathing. In short, my thinking is 'crazy' (see below). If you want to help someone you know recover from breakdown, realize that there will be times of darkness during the recovery process, and that the person suffering is afraid to call out for help.

A Note to Those Who Want to Help

If you are a friend or relative of someone suffering from nervous breakdown or similar mental illness, I plead with you to begin to understand the debilitating nature of this area. By understanding, you will be able to better help.

Mental illness is just like any other illness. It is often curable. But to achieve that, sufferers simply need your loving support. Unfortunately, many of those trying to recover often will not - or are unable to - reach out for help from friends or family. Here is my own example, nutty as it is: Rarely do I share what I'm going through with my friends or family. I don't do that for a number of absolutely silly reasons: I worry that they will judge me. I worry that they will worry excessively about me. I worry that they will run from me because they might be unable to cope with these occasional slips that I am experiencing. I worry that they will become angry at me for taking too long to recover. I also worry that they will come to believe that I might never fully recover: that the Dad, friend, grandpa that they have come to know and love has disappeared forever. 

So if they ask me how I'm feeling, I will lie. I'll tell them that I'm fine. Even if I feel like hell, which is how I feel today. In short, I'm ashamed of how I feel. I don't want to share that.

These are disastrous patterns of thinking that, I know, only stifle my recovery. But that's the lousy thinking that goes on in my head during these periods of darkness.

If you, as a friend or relative, want to help, in my book it's fairly simple: let your loved one know that you are there. Let them know that you are willing to listen. Let them know that they are safe. Encourage healthy thinking and behavior by understanding the tools that they are learning, and remind them to use those tools. Encourage them to share because during dark periods, many are too embarrassed and too ashamed to do just that. 

Recovering from mental breakdown is a lonely, difficult process. By knowing that you love them unconditionally, sufferers of mental illness will be able to hold tightly onto that love and derive the strength and courage from you to carry on. 

Recovering from Nervous Breakdown

It's a New Year. And with it renewed Hope. Hope that I can recover. Hope that I can lead a normal, productive life that allows me to contribute to those that I love and to society at large. Hope that I can finally walk permanently out of the darkness that swallowed me and into a life that is satisfying and contented.

So just for today, let's talk about recovering from nervous breakdown, and the hope that we must grasp tightly onto  in order to accelerate that recovery.

Based on what I have experienced, and what I continue to battle, recovering from nervous breakdown is no easy task. It requires a great deal of work. It is a search for wellness punctuated by slippery periods of darkness, emotional turmoil and hopelessness. But based on my experience, and despite the frequent reappearance of many symptoms, recovery is possible.

I write this because despite discussions with a number of therapists and mental health practitioners, no one has ever handed me a 'list' of do's and don'ts: of what I should do to help my recovery. Instead, I had to collect these steps in bits and pieces. Creating them as I have here helps me to formalize what I have learned to date. Mind you, it's all a work in progress, just as is my recovery. I hope the following is of some help.

Actions to Recover from Nervous Breakdown

1. Regaining Hope: I put this at the top of the list because in my experience it is the most critical part of recovery, and unfortunately - and at least for me - one of the most difficult to achieve. My breakdown left me as a shell of what I had been before. My confidence was replaced by fear, shame, and self-loathing. Trust in myself and others was replaced by uncertainty. My definition of self had been fundamentally altered. Before, I thought myself to be a reasonably good husband and father; a successful writer and business person; a person others could count on in times of trouble. But following the breakdown, I was only filled with feelings of failure. 'Hope' for a future - any future at all - had vanished completely.

Yet hope is what motivates me to get up in the morning. Without hope - for love, for family and friendship, for a modicum of financial security, for contentment with oneself, for a productive future - the world seems a a dark hole within which I have no place or sense of belonging.

When all hope is lost due to mental illness, regaining a sense of purpose seems at times almost impossible. But we can all take actions to nurture hope within us.

Here's what I did to do just that.

2. Therapy: ongoing professional therapy, with a highly qualified specialist in trauma counseling, is at the fulcrum of my recovery. I see this woman every two weeks (I would see her more often if I could afford it) and have done so for almost two years. She creates a safe space for me in which I can share anything that is on my mind. She is not judgmental. She is supportive and caring. She has taught me a variety of simple-to-learn tools to help me cope with periods of anxiety and depression, including breathing and visualization exercises. She offers me ongoing encouragement. She continues to help me to dig down into the causes of my breakdown (which for me are important to understand so that I can avoid another one) and to resolve those issues. She suggests a number of activities (see below) and motives me to action those. She pushes me when I need it, and lets me off the hook if I need a quiet time for reflection. Our sessions are a great deal of work - during and after our hour together - and often unsettling as I confront myself, my past, and my actions and behavior. However, I know that her continued counselling is vital for my very survival, and also know that I'll be relying on her for many months to come.

3. Socializing: during my breakdown and driven by fear, my only real desire was to isolate myself. Yet isolation from others - from the joy of simple companionship - leads to further distress. Loneliness is no cure for breakdown. Rather, it only makes things worse. My counselor encouraged me to take part in a social activity. In my case, she believed it was more important to do so because I live on my own. Following her advice, I joined a local choir. We sing together twice a week. Singing has always made me feel good about myself, and working with the choir members can fill me with joy. Recovery requires socialization. If you're suffering from nervous breakdown, make certain that you do not isolate yourself. Instead, get involved with others even if every fiber of your being tells you not to.

4. Alanon and Sharing: I also joined Alanon (the support organization that works with relatives and friends of alcoholics). I qualify because my mother, now passed on, was an alcoholic. I meet with a handful of other people once a week. During these sessions I can share how I am feeling and any emotional turmoil I am experiencing in complete confidentiality. I am not here to promote Alanon or any other Twelve Step program. All I can tell you is that for me it works, and is having a positive impact on my recovery. I also suspect that the process of 'group therapy through sharing' not only enables me to decompress, but also provides personal fulfillment because by sharing my experiences I am also helping others. While you may not quality for Alanon or a similar program, I do suggest some sort of 'group sharing' process. Google 'Mental Illness 12 Step Programs' for possible options.

If you do not quality - or simply don't want to take part in such a program, I only suggest that you find someone you trust to talk to. A friend or relative can offer you a release valve for your emotions. They might also provide insight into how you really are (and I find that I can be terrible at  really knowing how I'm doing until someone sees me - and tells me) and offer suggestions. But don't be discouraged if you are unable to find the 'right' person. Remember that most non-professionals simply don't understand mental illness and nervous breakdowns. If they are unable to appreciate your situation, or if they 'scoff' at your desire to find help, fire them and locate someone else who is more helpful and sympathetic.

5. Work and Routine: work has defined me for years. Yet I am currently not working a whole lot for two reasons a) I am emotionally unable to work as much as I had before the breakdown and b) there simply isn't a whole lot of work out there in this Recession-plagued economy. Nevertheless, I make sure that I work. I work a minimum of 4 hours a day either at paid-for business writing (when I have some to do), or on new creative projects, or on this blog. When I work I try to be as disciplined as I was in the past. When I finish something, and if I'm proud of what I've written, it makes me feel rather good about my day and myself.

I also try to plan my day. We all need something of a routine to make life work...simple mileage markers that set out our day. But due to the aftermath of the breakdown, some days are still horrible. I'll get depressed. I won't have the energy, the motivation, or the will to complete simple tasks like walking across the street for a quart of milk. Eating becomes difficult because I don't want to prepare anything. Cleaning the house, doing laundry, making the bed...all of it sometimes seems overwhelming. At times all I want to do is smoke a cigarette and stare out the window.

And yet. I know that if I get off my butt and complete a task - any task - I'll feel better for doing so. I've learned to congratulate myself when I do something. Did I make dinner? Good man! Did I take out the garbage or vacuum? Wonderful! Did I drive into town to buy groceries? That's super because I not only made the drive there and back in one piece, but also had to plan, buy, and put away groceries. Good for me!

Routines that I used to take for granted are now unpleasant activities that can sometimes seem well beyond my abilities. And yet I know that if I make myself do them - one thing at a time - I'll get through the day in one piece, and experience just a bit of normalcy. And 'normalcy', that wonderful but often elusive feeling of self-belief and fulfillment when accomplishing even the most simple of tasks - is what I am trying sometimes desperately to capture. 

6. Exercise: I try to get as much as I can because exercise stimulates endorphins and makes me feel better about myself. I try to walk a few miles every week. I practice Yoga every day (most of the time anyway). In good weather, I work in the backyard. Frankly, I hate doing this stuff. But the reward is pretty terrific. I might be having a bad day. I'll exercise and immediately feel better. So what the heck and why not? 

7. Eating / Drinking: the old axiom 'moderation in all things' works very well when I bother to put it into practice. If I eat well, I certainly feel better about myself. If I drink moderately, I also benefit. I never (okay, almost never) drink to excess. The couple of times I did so taught me a lesson: I became anxious and depressed. So while I do enjoy a drink, I've put a stiff limit on the amount I'll imbibe. 

8. Sleep and Naps: I try to get a good 8 hours a night. Some nights are still troubled by nightmares or days-long periods of sleeplessness. I've learned to nap and try to take a siesta most days. I've learned: if I'm having a bad day or feel hopeless or crazy, an hour's sleep lets me wake refreshed and not feeling quite as bad. In other words: if I feel like taking a nap I no longer beat myself up for being lazy.

9. Quieting the Internal Voices: I don't know about you, but I'll often talk silently to myself. And that little voice inside my head will often be full of ill will. It will berate me and what I've gone through. It will beat me up for my past behavior and the consequences that I and my family have suffered due to the breakdown. It will make my life a misery. When that bad tempered voice fills my head as it does so often it can wreck my day and my life. Quieting it is very, very hard to do. I've learned to gently 'blow' those thoughts from my head. That is, I visualize a nasty self-loathing thought as a dark cloud.. I then blow- and keep on blowing until it disappears over the far horizon. As I say, it's hard to do and there are days - nay, weeks! - when I'm not successful. But I also know that if I am to recover fully, and have a renewed sense of hope, I have to rid myself of these internal critics who have nothing good to say about me.  Too, during Yoga I'll try a simple mantra. Rather than hearing that voice shrill "You're a bad man!", I'll instead replace it with "You're a good man."  In short, I do my best to stifle those voices in order to gain some inner peace.

10. Drugs: Yes, I took Lexipro for a few months to help me combat depression and did so on the advice of my therapist and GP. Frankly, I didn't like the drugs at all. They resulted in a number of physical side-effects that I found to be unpleasant, although not debilitating. For this reason, I've decided that I will never again take such drugs. I prefer to conduct the battle without the aid of medication. But that's me and my opinion. As my therapist says, drugs are a short-term bridge that help us to get from one side of the breakdown to the other. If you're asked to take them, consider it. But my only advice is to conduct some research first. Avoid protracted use. If you're concerned, contact another medical practitioner for other opinions.

11. Spirituality: I am NOT here to espouse a particular view on religion or spirituality. I'm no theologian or minister. Frankly, I find such bombast to be unhelpful if not downright damaging. Recently, for instance, I found a website on mental health. It's only suggestion on recovering from nervous breakdown was to find Jesus. The remark left me cold. What if I happen to be Jewish or Muslim or atheist? Then what?

I will say, however, that spirituality and a sense of the religious have formed another - at times wobbly - leg of my recovery. I like to think that someone, somewhere - someone who is much bigger and more powerful and more caring than me - knows what they're doing. I pray. I ask for help. I ask that those I love are also protected and helped. I don't expect a miracle. I don't anticipate my bedroom to be filled with rapturous light. But sharing in this way with a power larger and more loving than me gives me hope.

12. Toward a New Definition of Self and Self-Discipline: Though my breakdown occurred over three years ago, I know that my recovery is only starting, and will be a lifetime journey. I still suffer from nightmares, occasional sleeplessness, an inability to properly focus on tasks at hand at times, and prolonged periods of depression and anxiety that leave me in darkness. During those dark times I want my life to end. I see no hope for a future. I let the voices take over; the ones that tell me that I'm a failure; that I hurt people that I cared for; that I am useless to myself and those that I love. Those times are torture.

But slowly, ever so slowly, things are getting better. The nightmares and periods of sleeplessness don't occur as often. The tools that I've learned, when I remember to use them, can silence those voices. I am learning to be patient with myself, knowing that recovery takes its time and that I will slip now and again. And probably most importantly, I know that I have much more work to do.

I know that I must redefine who I am. What is important to me. What my future holds and what I want and need. I know that I must be honest with myself to do this, which is difficult for me to do. I know that during dark times or times when I can't work, I must avoid beating myself up but instead let my body - and mind - rest. I know that I must remember to put into action what I've written above - a sort of Program of Self-Help. I need to do that because recovery is also about self-responsibility. No one is going to make me recover. Instead, I must choose to recover. If I don't, I have a good chance of either re-experiencing another breakdown which could possibly be far worse than the first one, or be institutionalized. I'll pass on those two options, thank you very much.

It comes down, I think, to self-discipline. Of learning to control my mind and heart to some extent, in hopes of protecting and nurturing myself. But self-discipline is also about freedom: of letting myself recognize that I am free again to be what I want to be and that despite what I (and countless others) have endured, my life will be what I make of it. I may have experienced a profound illness, but now I am learning the tools that give me renewed hope for a fulfilling future.

At the end of the day it's a simple choice for me. I can either recover or I can die. I choose to recover. I hope you do too.