Chapter 13 - Flanders

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What followed was also ground which I had covered before. About four months after Max's death I started to slide downhill. I was overwhelmed with a suffocating lethargy and I felt like I was living in treacle. I had experienced this feeling immediately after Max's first diagnosis. It is a reaction to extreme stress and results in total paralysis. It is the start of depression and after Max's death it resulted in a slow and interminable retreat into myself.

You know that there are things you should be doing but it gets to a point where you are unable to do anything. It is as if the brain is working in slow motion. I had no motivation whatsoever. I lost the ability to see where I was going and what I was doing with my life. I started to fall apart.

Generally I managed to function while at work but at home I was able to dismantle the walls which had been built to stem the grief. I would return from work and curl up in a ball on the sofa. Sometimes the TV was on sometimes it was not. It made no difference. I just stared blankly into space. I had no more strength left, I had nothing left. I lost interest in anything and everything. I was inexorably shutting down.

It became more and more obvious that I had a serious problem and needed help. Sara recognised this long before I did. Initially I refused help because I thought that I was in control, but slowly the control slipped away.

I was initially reluctant to accept help because I thought this was just like all the other battles which I had faced. I'd no experience of what was happening to me, but that had also been also the case throughout Max's illness and I thought this was just one more mountain to be scaled. The control started to slip away when I found myself sinking into deep depressions every weekend. These were bottomless black holes and I no longer had the will to climb back. They lasted longer and longer until they started to completely overwhelm me. It was then that I realised that I had lost the ability to cope and agreed to seek help.

There is still a major taboo within our society in seeking help for mental conditions. It is an irrational and culture driven fear. There is nothing to be lost in seeking help except the recognition that you have a problem. You can seek help and either accept or reject it, but there is no loss. I sought help and was grateful for the solace that was provided.

Sara approached CRUSE and a councillor came to the house four times for hour long sessions. She was very good. She gently prodded and questioned me to discover how I felt about Max, his illness, my life and my depression.

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