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Self injury is a disturbing way for the desperate souls who are reaching out to be heard!

In the world in which we live it is a sad truth that many people (including myself once upon a time) are forced into the act of self harming in an attempt to get help.

All the countries leading figures like you to believe that you wont go unheard and that they are watching over all of us, ensuring we do not reach the depths needed to harm ourselves.

My particular story goes like this......

I was 21 years old at the time and was suffering from Depression and Anxiety.

This was to me an embarrassing condition that I didn't want to let out to the world.
After a miserable 12 months and being unheard by my family that I was struggling, I plucked up the courage to see my doctor.

This was my BIGGEST mistake that will haunt me for the next ten years of my life,
the doctor gave a very tiny amount of tea and sympathy as if to say, get a grip of yourself. He then went into his sales patter about a drug from the SRT family that would be my miracle cure.
Skeptical but desperate I left the surgery with a prescription for Propranol, an SRT designed to re-align the chemicals in the brain and give me the boost I needed to come out of the darkness that was enveloping my very soul.

It was a small dose to start me off but didn't really hit the spot and after a few more weeks of hell I returned to the same doctor.

This time his miracle cure was to give me the now infamous Seroxat, wow, what a major error that was, (I like to imagine all the doctors who were the end of chain salesmen for the drug company who duped us with this evil drug, sleep a little less easy at night, sadly I doubt that though).

Like a good patient I swallowed my medicine hoping the clouds would lift any day now.
A few weeks in I reached a new low with thanks to my new meds, and after several calls to the Samaritans and other help agencies I realized there was no one listening and certainly no help.

I remember the night well, I was sat in the chair desperately depressed and it dawned on me that I needed to relieve the building doom. I began to slice into my arms with a blade I removed from a Stanley knife I had in the kitchen and felt a strange release. It seemed that the more I bled the pressure and depression lifted slightly.

After 20 minutes or so of cutting in a serene state that was like an out of body experience I realized I had gone too far and this could be a chance to finally get help.

I was, the very next day admitted into a mental help hospital and got the expert care and COUNSELING I needed.

Ten years on, I'm getting stronger each day and the Clinical depression that plagued me is gone, I have the odd down but hey we all have the odd off day, I just don't brood or let it spiral into the world shattering event it once was.

In conclusion to my story, and countless others whom are in a far darker place than I was is this.....

When someone is suffering from a mental illness they do not need a manufactured drug to numb them, so they don't bother anyone with their self pity and wallowing, what people who are on the path to this end need is COUNSELING for their problems, someone who will listen and advise, someone who has been where they are.

The doctors I encountered haven't the time or inclination to stop and listen or indeed put you in touch with someone who will, no dear reader they would rather aid the drug company in pushing pills on us that will make THEIR fortune, to hell with the sufferer!

I please ask anyone who is at this low ebb to ask for counseling, not drugs.
A shoulder to cry on, an ear to talk to is far more powerful than the strongest dose of any drug.

Learn more about this author, Neil Dixon.
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