Glimpses

Jan Hackney’s Story

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Category: GLIMPSES 1 Real life experiences of Mental Illness

Last Updated on Thursday, 10 November 2011 09:31

Written by Administrator

Hits: 1980

Jan Hackney’s Story

I grew up in Kew then moved to Fitzroy. My Father began building a house for us in West Preston. I have two brothers younger than me. I used to walk from Fitzroy to Preston with a pram filled with building materials. I would have been six years old sometimes I got a ride in the pram sitting on the building materials.

I was in grade three when I moved up there with my brothers, the house was half finished. I was very close to my father. I went to Preston West State School then Reservoir High School. My father always said I had no brains and put me in Stotts Business College. I excelled in business courses, shorthand and typing. I always had to excel myself at everything; sport, tennis, elocution, gym and swimming.

He wanted me to be the best, to show my brothers how good I was. I always wanted to be a nurse but he always said I didn’t have the brains for it. He was a well educated man and expected perfection.

I became pregnant at 16 years old. I married my husband. It was hopeless. I had two more children. I worked as a nurse assistant for ten years while they were growing up. Mum minded my three boys. I went to Panch (Preston and Northcote Community Hospital) to obtain my nursing degree.

At this time my father was sent overseas for his job as an aircraft planner for the Commonwealth Aircraft and was sent to Paris. He was very lonely and couldn’t understand the language consequently he couldn’t cope and had a nervous breakdown. He was sent to the Priory in London; he was there for nine months then came home.

He was never the same. He was suicidal and took hydraulic acid. It took him two weeks to die. I used to go visit him, he couldn’t talk and used to write on paper to speak to me. The one thing I’ll always regret and that is he never knew I was studying to get my nursing degree and passed (he always said I didn’t have brains).

I stayed at Panch for twenty five years in the Outpatients section. During this time I divorced my husband because he had two affairs and I lost all respect for him. I met another man, Clive, he was 15 years younger than me and we married. I was very happy for a while.

Until one night he was very angry and told me he was seeing someone at work. I had only been married three months! I got such a shock and I remember running around the house crying refusing to accept his announcement. I asked to go to my Mothers and he drove me there. I stayed with Mum overnight and rang him the next day to come and get me. I felt better after staying with my Mother and wanted to talk to him about it.

We talked all day and night and he told me he wanted to leave me. I couldn’t accept this so the next day I went to a Psychologist who wasn’t very helpful so I asked to see a Psychiatrist. I was referred to one in Eltham. I was feeling very suicidal and he talked to me for two hours. I started seeing him on a daily basis. I was in deep depression and he prescribed me medication. Clive left the house and went to live in a flat.

He regularly rang me or sent me love letters and giving me hope all the time because he felt guilty for what he had done.

I took leave from PANCH and continued to see my Psychiatrist everyday. My Mother came to live with me because I was a total wreck. I went to my best friend Fay’s house one afternoon after seeing the Doctor. I was having a cup of tea when suddenly I couldn’t breathe. I ran outside my heart was arrhythmic and I couldn’t breathe. Her friend took me to the local doctor. I had an ECG and because they couldn’t get a reading they rang the Mica ambulance. I was sent to the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit. After a while my heart slowed down and was more normal. I was monitored all night.

The next day I had a visitor and for no reason my heart started palpitating again. The nurses came in and had me breathing into a paper bag. Within a half an hour my heart was back to normal. (A Psychiatrist came in to see me he didn’t tell me who he was and started talking about my marriage breakdown). I again had another attack because I had to bring up all the past occurrences again. I was in ICU for three days and was discharged to my Psychiatrist. He told me I was suffering from Panic Anxiety attacks brought on by stress.

This continued to happen to me up to three times daily. I went to my local doctor who prescribed Rivitrol three times a day. The Rivitrol calmed my brain down and the attacks became more bearable. I was still having panic attacks and the depression wouldn’t lift even with the medication.

My husband still rang me out of guilt and this would cause more panic attacks. After six months of this I decided to apply for a divorce. I went back to Panch but wasn’t the happy Jan I used to be. I still continued to have attacks but felt working was better than being at home.

It was at this time I started drinking alcohol. It slowed my heart rate down and I could get through the nights. Everyone at work was nice to me but I felt different. I continued with my medication but nothing was the same. It became difficult leaving the house and getting the bus to work because I was fearful of getting panic attacks. I would have to leave the bus and work through it. My Doctor said I was agoraphobic and that it was a ‘fight/flight’ response.

I became house bound and would get my friends to drive me to work and to bring me home. All these things happened in September 1988. I was hospitalised many times, had medication changes and participated in group therapy. You name it, I’ve tried it! I went to Northpark hospital where my Psychiatrist saw me everyday. The staff were wonderful and the day was full of lectures (on psychiatric disorders) so you were totally involved. I did a course on cognitive behaviour for 8 weeks. There was activities everyday. I was finally discharged and went home.

I was able to go back to work which I found very hard at first. I never felt the same taking so much medication. I was still able to do my Nursing duties and my colleagues were very considerate.

A compilation of uncensored real life experiences with Mental Illness.

Mental illness to me means taking medication all the time. I only discuss my illness with close friends. It doesn’t worry me seeing my Psychiatrist now. My friend Horrie supported me through this time. I think Horrie is the one I turn to for help and understanding through my illness.

GLIMPSES © 2007  For permission to use the content of this manuscript please contact Nicci Wall at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. or fax +61 3 5222 6847