I have been reading this post and have been so touched and moved by your stories that I am reluctant to post and make it sound all about me.
I think I had a breakdown last summer, and completely fell to pieces. I remember one morning when I had had a complete night without sleep that I wanted everything in my head to just stop, and the only way I could do that was by going to sleep and not waking up.
Everything just seemed to come together and take control of me.
I was terrified of Covid, and thought it was stalking me and would come into the house and get me; I took extreme measures to avoid coming into contact with anything that might have the virus; I was obsessively washing my hands and cleaning the house; I was scared to go out; I was scared of seeing and talking to people, and spent all day indoors on my own.
I felt terribly alone as DH had died two years previously and I was alone in the house 24/7. Up till then I had carved out a new life for myself; yoga, ballet classes, health walks. Also trips to the cinema and theatre, and days out meeting friends, shopping and lunches out. I had also ventured on holidays on my own and had done both a river and an ocean cruise. Of course all that stopped last year, and I also lost two holidays.
I could not see any family, even DS and family who live only 15 minutes walk away. I saw my DGDs every week previously, and they came after school twice a week for their tea.
I developed severe health anxiety and every little thing that was wrong with me became a killer disease and I would spend days worrying. I seemed to be forever at the hospital having tests (that all came back negstive), and was convinced I was about to die. I seemed to have the surgery on speed dial.
I had already been referred to mental health services and had a course of CBT by phone which seemed very little help. I was prescribed diazepam and then lorazepam which didn't seem to do much, and then Sertraline which had terrible side effects so I stopped taking it.
I eventually talked to a lovely mental health nurse on the phone, who suggested an anti-depressant without the side-effects, which a GP then prescribed for me. I don't know whether it's helped, but I seem to be able to manage things better.
The other thing that helped was a GP suggesting that I form a bubble with my DD and her husband. I then started staying with them at weekends. I cannot tell you how it felt to be in a normal household, have a meal and a drink together and not feel lonely. They were brilliant to put up with me, and still are.
And then one of my lovely neighbours took an overdose in October; someone who always had seemed to be coping well, was going out and about with her DH, and had just had her first grandchild. We just could not take it in at all.
I am coping better these days, but the days spent alone are so long and my health anxiety is still there, but I am finding it easier to cope with and can manage it better.
But I still find myself telling people that I am fine, when I know I am not.