What was it like having a nervous breakdown?
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What was it like having a nervous breakdown?
A bit of me that someone else wrote. 
Twisted humor helps when recovery isn't where I want it to be.
Twisted humor helps when recovery isn't where I want it to be.
What was it like having a nervous breakdown?
It was really nice. I was unable to do anything, but I didn’t care.
I couldn’t open the mail anymore but didn’t care and just let it pile up. I wore the same outfit for two weeks – it didn’t matter, as I never left the house.
I lost all independence. I ruined my budget. I lost my friends and everything that I held important in life. I was too depressed to care.
Recovery, however, was the bitch.
It was really nice. I was unable to do anything, but I didn’t care.
I couldn’t open the mail anymore but didn’t care and just let it pile up. I wore the same outfit for two weeks – it didn’t matter, as I never left the house.
I lost all independence. I ruined my budget. I lost my friends and everything that I held important in life. I was too depressed to care.
Recovery, however, was the bitch.
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Join Date: Oct 2006
Location: southern indiana
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AMEN!!!!!!!!
when I came out of it all I had a tattoo across both knuckles....one hand had spelled out HARD across the knuckles.....the other hand had CORE.
not really....lol.
yes....recovery was the bitch. still is. but oh, so much nicer place than that other place.
when I came out of it all I had a tattoo across both knuckles....one hand had spelled out HARD across the knuckles.....the other hand had CORE.
not really....lol.
yes....recovery was the bitch. still is. but oh, so much nicer place than that other place.
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I'm still too much here, in this mode. I've made tons of progress, and yet so stuck. Finally found a therapist with an opening! First appt tomorrow afternoon. 
That in itself shows progress. Let's not talk about how many days I've worn the same clothes or how long it's been since I've picked up the mail.
That in itself shows progress. Let's not talk about how many days I've worn the same clothes or how long it's been since I've picked up the mail.
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Join Date: Oct 2006
Location: southern indiana
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it takes time. my break happened over a period of time, and it went away just as it went....over time.
can't really say that it ever totally went away.....I still struggle with some things.
but I keep my life as simple as I possibly can, which really helps me.
can't really say that it ever totally went away.....I still struggle with some things.
but I keep my life as simple as I possibly can, which really helps me.
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Join Date: Jun 2013
Location: Midwest
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Sometimes I wonder, myself. The closest I ever came was when I completely lost about three hours and cannot recall anything about that time. I had taken the day off to drive Himself to an appointment with a new doctor, two hours away. He SEEMED sober enough when we got in the car, but as we drove it became apparent he had consumed an ungodly amount of vodka immediately before we left the house. As if it weren't bad enough we were going to meet a new GI guy with him three sheets to the wind, it had been his only resonsibility that day to get and bring or remember the directions to the office. Which of course didn't work very well. (What was I thinking?)
I remember absolutely nothing between pulling over on the side of the road and then sitting on my couch reading the newspaper. Apparently I not only drove back home, but filled the gastank, took the car through the carwash, and bought a few things at the grocery store. He says I never spoke a word to him (which, in hindsight, was probably a Very Good Thing), and didn't blink very much either. I didn't believe him, until I saw the car was clean and the refrigerator was full.
Is this a psychotic break? Dunno, but it did have one very happy consequence: Himself was so freaked out by the whole episode that he didn't take another drink for over a week!
I remember absolutely nothing between pulling over on the side of the road and then sitting on my couch reading the newspaper. Apparently I not only drove back home, but filled the gastank, took the car through the carwash, and bought a few things at the grocery store. He says I never spoke a word to him (which, in hindsight, was probably a Very Good Thing), and didn't blink very much either. I didn't believe him, until I saw the car was clean and the refrigerator was full.
Is this a psychotic break? Dunno, but it did have one very happy consequence: Himself was so freaked out by the whole episode that he didn't take another drink for over a week!
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I've been planning my nervous breakdown for years. There will be public nudity and the loud singing of show tunes. I use the threat of this regularly to keep my teenage daughter inline.
I'm only half joking.
On a more serious note, that same daughter, had a breakdown when she was ten. It was the scariest thing she and I have ever gone through. Her father was deployed to Iraq for the umpteenth time, but it was the first time that she realized just how dangerous his job was, and that he could, in fact, die. I thought she was handling things soooooooo well. Boy, was I surprised when, one day, she just snapped. Her poor overstressed little brain did a complete 180 from reality. She was hearing voices, seeing things, it was horrible. I, of course, rushed her in to see someone, asap. Over the course of the next few months her doctor determined that in was all due to built up stress.
Now she looks on that time as a sort of odd blessing. She knows now that her mind can play tricks on her. She's asked to go back to counseling a few times since then, and is a regular at Alanon. She's often wondered if maybe she subconsciously knew about her father's drinking back then (he tried to keep his drinking hidden), and if that may have added to the stress. I wonder about that myself. I do know that she must have been able to sense my concerns about his drinking. So, either way, it would have added to the equation.
Years ago, when my husband use to "go missing" while bingeing, I use to feel compelled to lie down in a fetal position on the cold kitchen floor. I never thought of that as a nervous breakdown, because I had control over other things. I could get through the chores of the day in a normal fashion, although perhaps a tad zombielike to the keen observer. But as soon as the baby was fed, and tucked away in bed, I would lie down on the kitchen floor clutching the phone, and praying for him to call. Somehow, the feeling of those cold tiles signaled to me that I was still alive, and kept me out of the "Tunnel" that threatened to swallow me. Wow! It's been years since I've done that, but it's making me tear up just thinking about it. What was that all about? Why did I need to feel that cold floor? Was that a type of nervous breakdown? Weird. I don't want to go back there.
I'm only half joking.
On a more serious note, that same daughter, had a breakdown when she was ten. It was the scariest thing she and I have ever gone through. Her father was deployed to Iraq for the umpteenth time, but it was the first time that she realized just how dangerous his job was, and that he could, in fact, die. I thought she was handling things soooooooo well. Boy, was I surprised when, one day, she just snapped. Her poor overstressed little brain did a complete 180 from reality. She was hearing voices, seeing things, it was horrible. I, of course, rushed her in to see someone, asap. Over the course of the next few months her doctor determined that in was all due to built up stress.
Now she looks on that time as a sort of odd blessing. She knows now that her mind can play tricks on her. She's asked to go back to counseling a few times since then, and is a regular at Alanon. She's often wondered if maybe she subconsciously knew about her father's drinking back then (he tried to keep his drinking hidden), and if that may have added to the stress. I wonder about that myself. I do know that she must have been able to sense my concerns about his drinking. So, either way, it would have added to the equation.
Years ago, when my husband use to "go missing" while bingeing, I use to feel compelled to lie down in a fetal position on the cold kitchen floor. I never thought of that as a nervous breakdown, because I had control over other things. I could get through the chores of the day in a normal fashion, although perhaps a tad zombielike to the keen observer. But as soon as the baby was fed, and tucked away in bed, I would lie down on the kitchen floor clutching the phone, and praying for him to call. Somehow, the feeling of those cold tiles signaled to me that I was still alive, and kept me out of the "Tunnel" that threatened to swallow me. Wow! It's been years since I've done that, but it's making me tear up just thinking about it. What was that all about? Why did I need to feel that cold floor? Was that a type of nervous breakdown? Weird. I don't want to go back there.
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SR, I'm so sorry you and your daughter have gone through those things. I'm so glad you both have found healing. 
My breakdown wasn't a moment or highly visible to others. It was internal and included many different times of curling up in a ball on the closet floor, alone and in the dark, shut away from everything. It was a safe place. It was a physical, mental and spiritual breakdown. My body is healing, my spirit is mended, my mental state is greatly improving. I never want to go back there either! Part of what's spurring me on is the few times I've been wanting to hole up in the dark closet again. That's when I step outside, barefoot in the grass, and meditate, pray, and am grateful for the wonderful progress I've made.
My breakdown wasn't a moment or highly visible to others. It was internal and included many different times of curling up in a ball on the closet floor, alone and in the dark, shut away from everything. It was a safe place. It was a physical, mental and spiritual breakdown. My body is healing, my spirit is mended, my mental state is greatly improving. I never want to go back there either! Part of what's spurring me on is the few times I've been wanting to hole up in the dark closet again. That's when I step outside, barefoot in the grass, and meditate, pray, and am grateful for the wonderful progress I've made.
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Thanks KTF, but it's an on going process, isn't it? I think you're much further along in your discipline than I am. I know what I should do (I love the walking barefoot, by the way.), but like a ostrich, stress still makes me want to hide my head in the sand. Once again, that's why I love Alanon. I get my dose of gentle encouragement there.
Between you and me (and the multitude in cyberspace that can read this), I'm a little afraid of the flashbacks that might occur when my daughter starts driving. I know at some point soon that's going to happen, and it wouldn't be fair of me to freak out on her because of her dad's past transgressions. I sure would love advice from anyone who's been there.
Between you and me (and the multitude in cyberspace that can read this), I'm a little afraid of the flashbacks that might occur when my daughter starts driving. I know at some point soon that's going to happen, and it wouldn't be fair of me to freak out on her because of her dad's past transgressions. I sure would love advice from anyone who's been there.
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Have you delved much into Reiki? Energy healing hit on a traumatic time for me that I didn't know I was still holding onto. It's amazing what happens with muscle memory. http://www.soberrecovery.com/forums/...-ot-reiki.html
Individual therapy sessions?
What happened with driving? (((hugs)))
I get it. I really do. I often will sit down to post when I'm at my lowest. Typing is therapeutic and I think on it a while and exit before posting those. That's when I either wallow a bit lost for a few days or pick up with something that gets me back on track. I rebound much faster than I used to. That's where I see the greatest improvements. If I posted everything I go through each day and each week you'd swear I have a psychotic disorder. Nothing derogatory about that -- simply that I can relate a bit. I'm starting to see how "normal" some psychotic disorders are. Good people in lots of unexpected places.
Individual therapy sessions?
What happened with driving? (((hugs)))
I get it. I really do. I often will sit down to post when I'm at my lowest. Typing is therapeutic and I think on it a while and exit before posting those. That's when I either wallow a bit lost for a few days or pick up with something that gets me back on track. I rebound much faster than I used to. That's where I see the greatest improvements. If I posted everything I go through each day and each week you'd swear I have a psychotic disorder. Nothing derogatory about that -- simply that I can relate a bit. I'm starting to see how "normal" some psychotic disorders are. Good people in lots of unexpected places.
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Thanks KTF, I'll look into the Reiki.
Actually, miracle of miracle, nothing really ever happened with the driving. I guess I was unclear. It was that God-awful fear that something would happen. I would get a call from him saying he was on his way home from work, or where ever, he would sound perfectly normal, and then...... hours would pass. I wouldn't see him until the wee hours of the morning, or maybe the next day, usually after he had sobered up, but I knew he had driven drunk, and I just knew he was going to kill someone, or himself. I started having PTSD like symptoms triggered when he would only be 5 minutes late. I guess I'm just concerned that I'm going to want to keep that leash a little too tight on my daughter when she started driving. Not for her benefit, but so that I don't fall back into that obsessive worrying place.
Actually, miracle of miracle, nothing really ever happened with the driving. I guess I was unclear. It was that God-awful fear that something would happen. I would get a call from him saying he was on his way home from work, or where ever, he would sound perfectly normal, and then...... hours would pass. I wouldn't see him until the wee hours of the morning, or maybe the next day, usually after he had sobered up, but I knew he had driven drunk, and I just knew he was going to kill someone, or himself. I started having PTSD like symptoms triggered when he would only be 5 minutes late. I guess I'm just concerned that I'm going to want to keep that leash a little too tight on my daughter when she started driving. Not for her benefit, but so that I don't fall back into that obsessive worrying place.
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One time, I went crazy-got drunk and told everyone I was going to kill myself. I don't remember it, but the only reason I believe it is because I remember planning it the night before. I was 16, and it happened at school. I was put in the hospital, obviously.
My therapist tried to get me to go back the other day. I told her it is a waste of time-I don't want to die, I just don't care. There is a difference. I know this, I have been there.
I mean, don't get me wrong, I do what I have to for the kids. But I am mentally just not there. I was 5 minutes away from my house the other day and got lost. Seriously. I go to the store and forget what I came for (and also forget the list I wrote)-I did this several times until I gave up. I drove to school today, it took me two hours, as usual, and I have absolutely no memory of driving those two hours. I lose whole chunks of time and I have no idea what happened. Time stopped for me 3 weeks ago.
My bangs are all in my eyes. I really need to cut them. But it amazes me how your hair can still grow when you are dead inside.
Strangely, though, I had a final this morning, which I was sure I was going to fail (and didn't care if I did), but I smashed that thing. I didn't even study, I wasn't paying attention in class, I have no idea how I could have done as well as I did, but I did (and only part of that is this whole thing, I wasn't paying attention before all this). Amazing. I know what it was, though, why that happened. Someone else stepped in because I couldn't do it on my own. And I think, for the first time in my life, I am ready to admit that I need help. Not like, psychiatric help (although I am getting it), but like, help with the kids, help with stupid stuff like going to the store, because it's been weeks since I have had milk in the house, stuff like that. I can't do this on my own.
My therapist tried to get me to go back the other day. I told her it is a waste of time-I don't want to die, I just don't care. There is a difference. I know this, I have been there.
I mean, don't get me wrong, I do what I have to for the kids. But I am mentally just not there. I was 5 minutes away from my house the other day and got lost. Seriously. I go to the store and forget what I came for (and also forget the list I wrote)-I did this several times until I gave up. I drove to school today, it took me two hours, as usual, and I have absolutely no memory of driving those two hours. I lose whole chunks of time and I have no idea what happened. Time stopped for me 3 weeks ago.
My bangs are all in my eyes. I really need to cut them. But it amazes me how your hair can still grow when you are dead inside.
Strangely, though, I had a final this morning, which I was sure I was going to fail (and didn't care if I did), but I smashed that thing. I didn't even study, I wasn't paying attention in class, I have no idea how I could have done as well as I did, but I did (and only part of that is this whole thing, I wasn't paying attention before all this). Amazing. I know what it was, though, why that happened. Someone else stepped in because I couldn't do it on my own. And I think, for the first time in my life, I am ready to admit that I need help. Not like, psychiatric help (although I am getting it), but like, help with the kids, help with stupid stuff like going to the store, because it's been weeks since I have had milk in the house, stuff like that. I can't do this on my own.
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I had one at 19 in college. I totally just lost touch with reality after my first love left me. I was just devastated and was grieving the relationship not just with him, but also his family, and the perfect life I had planned out for us! Poor fellow. He must have felt at least a ton lighter shedding all of my hopes, plans and expectations!
Somehow I managed to do well in school. But I had terrible insomnia and one desperate night I called the suicide hotline I was so heartbroken. I dialed the wrong number and woke up some poor sucker! I was so mortified I was afraid to try again so I cried on the tile floor the rest of the night. I did not value myself out of a relationship and went on a self destruction spree for - oh heck too long to consider here!
Somehow I managed to do well in school. But I had terrible insomnia and one desperate night I called the suicide hotline I was so heartbroken. I dialed the wrong number and woke up some poor sucker! I was so mortified I was afraid to try again so I cried on the tile floor the rest of the night. I did not value myself out of a relationship and went on a self destruction spree for - oh heck too long to consider here!
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Guess I always imagined a nervous breakdown as running around, acting like a wild woman, etc.
Thanks for opening my eyes to what I must be on the brink of happening. I haven't cared about a shower for days, the house is dusty, and all I want to do is sleep to make time go by hoping things will change or be changed when I wake up plus I can dreams about happy endings. Thanks.
Thanks for opening my eyes to what I must be on the brink of happening. I haven't cared about a shower for days, the house is dusty, and all I want to do is sleep to make time go by hoping things will change or be changed when I wake up plus I can dreams about happy endings. Thanks.
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Ooohhh so glad I can laugh at this now! Hmm...I don't know if it fits the bill but what I experienced around 17 years of age, a good twenty years ago, was a break-down of sorts. I was vacationing with family in Florida when out of the blue I awoke in the middle of the night with the thought that I could not breathe. I wasn't short of breath really, I just became conscious of my breath and was convinced I didn't have enough air. Suddenly the world felt very tiny and I ended up in the emergency room, doctor's giving me a clean bill of health despite my feeling 'other-wordly'. I took a flight home that next day in my pajamas. My parents waited for me at the gate. I walked out nearly comatose where we swiftly went to see a shrink. They asked me if I ever wanted to hurt myself. My parents shuddered. I remember feeling afraid of air. I didn't function and couldn't go to school for several months. When I did finally make it to class I had to sit by the door so I could escape when the air became cut off again.
That crazy breakdown resurfaced back in 2011. I stopped functioning for another few months. I walked around the world detached. I lost 15lbs on my already small frame and I didn't want to live, though I was too afraid of death. Eventually it dissipated and I came back to normal. My sister is shocked it hasn't happened again since the onslaught of stress with Abf. Now I laugh at my body's physical reaction...I wear my breakdowns on my body now, not inside. Picking and poking and pulling....but always laughing
That crazy breakdown resurfaced back in 2011. I stopped functioning for another few months. I walked around the world detached. I lost 15lbs on my already small frame and I didn't want to live, though I was too afraid of death. Eventually it dissipated and I came back to normal. My sister is shocked it hasn't happened again since the onslaught of stress with Abf. Now I laugh at my body's physical reaction...I wear my breakdowns on my body now, not inside. Picking and poking and pulling....but always laughing
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