The following is the second of a four-part series on mental health focusing on depression, self harm and suicide.
Representatives with the Canadian Mental Health Association (CMHA) Waterloo Wellington Dufferin are working toward a one-stop telephone number for those suffering from mental health ailments and seeking treatment.
It’s an overhaul of a system that has been fraught with loopholes, where those seeking help have fallen through the cracks.
Fred Wagner, executive director for the local CMHA, which is the result of a merger between CMHA Grand River and Trellis Mental Health and Development Services, sees the new mandate as an essential ingredient in dealing with mental health issues.
As part of the Wellington Advertiser’s four-part series, two individuals who have suffered from mental illness are sharing their stories.
One is Kaylie Svela, who is in her mid-20s and suffered her first inkling of possible depression in public school, which continued in high school and university, before she attempted to take her life in 2012.
The other story is from Rhoda Seibert, who has also suffered from mental illness.
Both have survived ailments, through diagnosis, counseling and medication and are now leading productive lives – but they realize they will live with their illness for the rest of their lives.
Kaylie’s story
Last October, in the weeks before trying to take her life, Svela wrote the following journal entries.
“For the first time death seems, to me, a beautiful experience. With death, most certainly, comes excruciating pain, but also comes freedom. This has become my only dream. I am suffering from depression.
“Each day I lead an existence and no longer a life. I wake up and the world hits me like a light so bright it irritates my eyes. I eat. I struggle to stay awake. I lie on the couch but I cannot concentrate.
“I go to sleep again. I wake for dinner and then back to bed where I pray that tomorrow I will feel better. To live like this, is an excruciating process where waiting for death, for freedom seems the only reason I am living.
“It is apparent to me that I am no longer living for myself but for the people in my life, those whom would be forever bruised by my death should I choose to make the ultimate decision,” she wrote.
“So, for now, I am holding on with everything I have inside of me. I have started to wonder what death is really like. I have started to think about myself as a spirit flying around the world. Would it be so bad? I see myself as an angel watching over my family. I see those dearest to me gathered at my funeral.
“These are the thoughts that swirl around my head. I know they are not normal but I cannot help but think them. Death, however extreme, seems the best solution for the pain we are all feeling, my family and I. And sadly, I know I cannot do it – not yet – at the age of 25, I have to keep on living,” Svela wrote.
“There is still something inside of me, a spirit that is still living. My spirit believes in life. It brings hope to my body and keeps me waiting for its renewal. My spirit is still there inside me, dancing when it hears music and savouring the flavours of food, appreciating the little things like the beauty of flowers.
“However small, this spirit is still alive and waiting for my body to heal and my new life to begin.
“Nothing I can ever write will capture the true agony of what it is like to live in this dark prison of the mind. I live each day with the goal of mere survival as I try to push forward towards the possibility of health.
“With every moment in calculation, I waited to be alone in my parents house after my mom left for work. As soon as she left I knew it was time. I created a cocktail of four different types of meds; a mixture of old stores I had been saving as a backup plan in case I didn’t get better.
“I sat at the edge of my bed and I poured at least 50 pills into the palm of my hand. Shaking, I put them in my mouth only to spit them out again. I did this several times. I was nervous because I knew once they were down there was just no turning back. Then I did it. I swallowed one handful, then another handful until over 200 pills were making their way down my throat and into my belly.
“I stopped shaking and took a deep breath. I thought about the great life I had lived. A beautiful, magical life filled with amazing people and events. I looked through everything in my past and I got complete with it all. I laid back in my bed, closed my eyes and waited.
“By 3:30pm I opened my eyes and realized that I was still alive. I sat up feeling light headed. I stood up and started stumbling into the hallway.
“I could feel my stomach erupting and the pills travelling up my throat and out my mouth. In a moment of panic I picked up the phone and dialed 911. My last thoughts were ‘why did you do that?’”
The attempt would see Svela admitted to Homewood Health Centre in Guelph, where she received treatment for a month.
“Today I look back at that journal entry and think about my brush with death and remember the thoughts in my mind and the place I was in at that point in my life.
“This was not ‘me,’ this is the face of mental illness, an illness so common it affects one in five Canadians throughout the course of their lives. It can happen to anyone and it can happen when you least expect. Sadly, there are many individuals who do take their lives. I am grateful to be with you today and to share my story with you.
“When you come close to death, you also come close to life. I have learned what really matters,” she said.
“As far back as I can remember I had insecurities about my weight. At a young age I dealt with a great deal of emotional stress on my own. I learned how to put on a happy face.
“I joked with the kids who made fun of my weight and smiled when I came home from school while deep inside I was suffering,” she said of the early signs of mental health issues that would follow her through school and include bouts of cutting and alcohol abuse.
Eventually Svela was diagnosed with bipolar II.
“My doctor explained that it was mood that dictated my behavior and that my mood was dictated by chemicals in my brain. I left his office feeling confident that I would get the help I needed and at the same time I was afraid to know I would have to live with this illness the rest of my life,” she said.
“Thankfully my actions landed me back at Homewood where I would finally receive the treatment I needed to get better.
“Homewood gave me hope. Although a mental institution may look like a scary place to the outside world, it is truly a beautiful place. The people there save lives every day. I learned how valuable the people in our lives are. My family, my parents, community, my friends, and my friend’s families, the doctors, the nurses and the other patients all came to my rescue in any way they could.
It was all part of a lengthy recovery process that did not happen overnight and continues to this day.
“The minute I tried to take my life I had a community rallying around me. I had endured seven months of trauma prior to this point. I think we need to ask ourselves what can we do to normalize the conversation of mental health? Everyone is dealing with managing mental health yet it is not discussed openly. We need to be thinking about what can we do to deal with mental illness before it becomes a 9-1-1 situation,” she said.
“With the world huddled around me each day I did what I could to get better. I learned to take it step by step. I learned to love myself profoundly. I conjured up a love for myself I did not think was possible. And that love was sometimes all I had to keep me going in many dark moments.
“I got more than better. I replaced pieces of my soul that had been missing and emerged with more strength and courage than ever before. I taught myself that I am powerful beyond words, that I am a beautiful gift to the world,” she said.”
“I was once asked if I could take what I have learned now and go back in time what I would say, what wisdom would I have to share with my younger self. This is what I have learned.
“It really is human nature for us to be hard on ourselves. There is that little voice there telling us you’re not good enough, you did that wrong, you can’t do that, he/she is better than you. Tell that voice to shut up. It is okay to love yourself, really it is,” she said.
“And this includes your body. Be kind to your body. You may think you’re young and invincible, but the younger you learn to eat healthy, to get regular exercise and sleep, the stronger you will be physically and mentally. And think of your brain, it needs food to function.”
She continued, “I am proud to say that I now eat like a normal person. I eat all natural foods and I let myself indulge without feeling bad. I workout every day and I take pride in my body
“Give yourself an A-plus every day that you wake up. You are awesome. Why? Just for being you. You are already a success by virtue of your humanity, so stop worrying. Just smile and be happy. Take care of yourself first and foremost.
“People are the magic in this world. I never would have gotten through my tough times without the people in my life.
“Surround yourself with great people and they will take you higher. Be kind to the people around you. We never know what another person is dealing with or just how much we can help them.
“It takes a big person to own who they are, the good, the bad and the ugly parts.
“I also live with mental illness and with that comes a lot of stigma. Am I really ‘crazy?’ Or am I just anther person living with a disease that I have to manage? My advice: you have a long life to live with yourself so you might as well be proud of who you are and share yourself with the world. You never know when your story might help someone else.
“When I was in the hospital I received a card from a friend that read, ‘I miss you. Feel better. Come back whenever you are ready. The world will be here to welcome you with open arms.’
“To that I say, ‘hello world, I am here.’
“This past year I have gone to hell and back. I never thought I would say this, but for this journey I am thankful. I am thankful to have gone through hell because I learned to love profoundly.”
Today Svela has come to grips with taking medication and has found life worth living. She is engaged and expecting her first baby and is leading a productive life in Toronto, while still aware of the mental health issues she faces.
For those now suffering in silence, Svela suggests, “Find someone to talk to if you are dealing with something because you are never alone. Don’t be ashamed of yourself.”
Rhoda’s story
Seibert offered the following account of her story to the Advertiser.
“I’m happy to tell my story. Everyone who knows me, knows that I’m not afraid to speak up about mental health issues because of my personal experience,” she said.
“I’m sharing my story, my hopeful story, because I’m not ashamed to talk about it. No one should be. I wouldn’t be here today if I hadn’t spoken up.
“I’ve had episodes of mild depression throughout my life, but nothing like I experienced in 1999. My family has strong family history of depression but I’d never been on medication for it, although I had been to counseling a couple of times.
“After my hysterectomy, I suffered a hormone imbalance that threw me for a loop. I didn’t realize at the time that this was the problem. I had extreme anxiety and severe abdominal pain. My thoughts could only focus on my pain.
“I went to emergency at least weekly with some ailment or another. I was constantly worrying/fretting that something was wrong with me. One doctor put me on an anti-depressant medication but it kept me awake all night so I woke up more anxious. I only tried it the once,” she said.
“I don’t think I realized or accepted that I was dealing with depression/anxiety as the cause. I thought I was anxious because of the pain, not the other way around … that I was experiencing pain because of the anxiety.
“In the meantime, my doctor was good about resolving my pain issues. I had every test imaginable and saw a lot of specialists. I even had a laparoscopy because I was sure this was related to my hysterectomy. The waits for the specialist appointments seemed endless.
“My first issues started in February 1999. By May I was so anxious that I was waking up every morning with dry heaves. I couldn’t do any housework. I just lay in bed all day. I remember trying to sweep, and I had so much pain, that I couldn’t continue. I couldn’t eat. I lost 30 pounds from February to July.”
Seibert continued, “I went to emergency after that test, and explained to the doctor there that I just couldn’t go home. I couldn’t cope. I stayed in the hospital for one week. The doctor insisted that I go on an anti-depressant and I did. It helped me sleep so I would at least get a good night’s rest. As soon as I got home, I started to get anxious again.
“My husband, Klaus, was very supportive but also very frustrated that I wasn’t getting the help I needed. It breaks my heart to remember the look of anguish on his face as he tried to comfort me. He felt so helpless,” she said of the struggle.
“My friends and family were also very supportive with phone calls and visits. One friend called me every morning to give me encouragement. I think everyone had trouble understanding that my depression was so physical. I think they thought, like I did, that there must be something physically wrong with me.”
Eventually a doctor would suggest placement in Homewood, after Seibert admitted to having suicidal thoughts and a plan to carry them out.
“He encouraged me to sign myself into Homewood. If I hadn’t, he would have. The first 72 hours I would be under locked observation and no one was allowed to visit,” she said.
“Suicidal thoughts are so hard to explain. Why would someone who had a happy marriage, and a good life want to commit suicide? I can’t put the feeling into words.
“The closest I can explain is that I felt like a slug, that I couldn’t cope with life like that. I couldn’t do anything and my mind was racing constantly about how much pain I was having.
“I remember when I told a fellow patient at Homewood how I arrived there, she said, You didn’t use the “S” word, did you (meaning suicide)?
“I’m glad that I used the “S” word. I’m glad my friend asked me if I was suicidal. I’m glad I was honest about it, even though it’s a hard thing to admit.
“A friend of mine was in Homewood last year … ‘This place helped me to recover,’ I told her. ‘And I am forever grateful.’
“When I thought of going to Homewood, I thought of lying in a bed with crisp white sheets and being looked after. It doesn’t work like that.
“We were up every day and encouraged to walk. There were daily programs to participate in. We were not to sleep during the day so we’d sleep well at night. And the sheets were wrinkly, not crisp, and we had to make our own beds and change our sheets,” she said of life at Homewood during the eight-week regimented program she would undergo.
“I think the interaction and friendships that I made with the other patients was the most helpful thing at Homewood,” she said.
“Homewood’s philosophy of recovery worked for me. The recovery program that I participated in was based on the idea that biological, psychological, social and spiritual factors contribute to recovery.”
The recovery program included good sleep, daily walks, a stress relief course, and psychiatric medications through consultation with a psychiatrist.
“For psychological treatment, I had group therapy, courses on communication, relationships, self-esteem, and journaling,” said Seibert.
“We all had our journals available for other patients to write in to give us encouragement. For the social aspect, there were community meetings, women’s group, and lots of leisure things planned.”
At Homewood Seibert participated in a spirituality course and attended services in the facility’s chapel.
She is involved in a local mental health committee known as HOPE, (Health Opportunities Promoting Empowerment – Destigmatizing Mental Health) which helps bring out the message of mental health and lift the stigma.
“Even though I feel great, I’m still on medication and probably will be on it all my life. I’m so glad to be part of the HOPE committee and what we’ve accomplished so far in our goal to de-stigmatize mental health.
“It’s time to speak out and break the silence.”
She offered the following advice for those suffering with depression or other mental health issues.
“Learn to communicate and share your feelings and emotions. It is important for your own mental health,” she said.
Svela is now an active mental health advocate and volunteers in the Pet Therapy program at CAMH in Toronto with her dog, Bear.
“We believe that by providing a coordinated contact for mental health services (e.g. one number, streamlined referral processes) that we will be able to connect people like Kaylie and Rhoda to help sooner so that depression can be treated earlier before it gets to the point of requiring hospital admission or leads to a suicide attempt,” Wagner explained.
Kaylie Svela is the daughter of Wellington Advertiser reporter Kris Svela and his wife Cornelia.
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