Nathalie Fayers

I have two hidden disabilities. The first is Type 1 Diabetes which I was diagnosed with at the age of 14.

Already going through puberty and facing the trying times of being a teenager seemed like nothing in comparison to being told I had diabetes.

I was terrified of needles, so being told I would have to learn how to do injections and that I would have to do them for the rest of my life, seemed an impossible task. It was something I had to quickly get used to; which I don’t think I could have done without the help and support from my family.

I didn’t know or understand a lot about diabetes then. I just knew I didn’t want to be different.

No one else in my family has it, and at that time the doctors kept saying it was hereditary which just fuelled my thoughts of ‘why me?’ And why can’t I just be “normal”?

I didn’t want to be treated differently at school, but I had to accept that in some cases it was necessary.

The type of insulin I was taking back then was very restrictive and meant that I had to eat at the same times every day, so if we had an extra lesson at lunch time I had to be allowed to eat in class. Not good if you don’t want to be in the spotlight or give anyone a reason to dislike you!

My friends were a great support though and wanted to learn all about my condition and what they could do to help me. As I’ve gotten older I now tend to think ‘why not me?’ And the daily injections and blood tests have become part of “normal” everyday life.

There are things that I still find challenging. Doing my injection in public is one of them. I am fine with doing it in front of people I know, but being around people I don’t know still makes me feel nervous. I fear they won’t understand and will tell me I’m doing something wrong.

One of the most frustrating things about having diabetes is having to explain that there are different types. As mine isn’t the most common, people just assume that I'm Type 2, and so I have it due to my lifestyle.

At times this can make me feel judged (especially if people are watching or commenting on what I eat), sometimes excluded and sad as it highlights how much stigma is out there. This is why I’m very open to talking about my diabetes and want to do what I can to raise awareness and understanding of the condition.

My second hidden disability is Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), which despite only being diagnosed with four and a half years ago is actually due to multiple traumas that have occurred from childhood and throughout my life.

I hadn’t ever previously sought any counselling or therapy for these traumas before my diagnosis. I always thought I didn’t need it, that I didn’t want to waste anyone’s time and that I’d be ok, but I know now that all I’d been doing was trying to avoid my problems.

It was when I found myself suffering from chronic stress that I realised I needed help.

All the thoughts and feelings I had tried to bury for so many years were suddenly filling my head and I started to experience flashbacks and nightmares on a daily basis.

I have always found it difficult to trust people, but I found myself withdrawing from close friends and family and pushing away anyone who tried to help. I didn’t want to be a burden to my family. I didn’t want to socialise or for anyone to know I wasn’t coping, to see me upset and have to explain why, so I became very good at putting on a façade.

My smile became a mask I could hide behind to help convince people I was ok, whilst I distanced myself more and more. It was exhausting.

The confusion from my feelings and frustration of not being able to cope made me believe I was just being silly. Why couldn’t I get over things that happened in the past? Why did they still feel so real now? Why didn’t I ever feel safe no matter where I was or who I was with? Why was I reacting so badly to things most people wouldn’t even notice?

I lost all my confidence, my negative thoughts spiralled out of control and I became stuck in a vicious cycle of anxiety, stress, flashbacks, random panic attacks, lack of sleep and bouts of depression. I felt completely hopeless, helpless, and alone.

I had reached my lowest point ever and I honestly don’t know where my strength came from, but that’s when I knew I had to get help.

I am so glad I did. It led to my diagnosis of PTSD which has not only helped me understand my thoughts, feelings, and behaviours better, but the therapy has helped me accept them, recognise my triggers, given me tools to cope with them and helped me to start to process my traumas.

I’ve still got a long way to go, and I know it will be hard, but the difference is that I now believe I can get there.

I wouldn’t have had the confidence to share all this four years ago, so I think back to that day I sought help and am proud of how far I’ve come since then.

This past year has been extremely tough for us all and has caused many people without a preexisting mental health problem to now have symptoms of anxiety and depression. I have battled with my increased levels of stress and anxiety and at times have really had to dig deep to find my inner strength.

I was elected Chair of the Staff Disability Network in January 2019. I find that helping others is a great source of strength and motivation for me. Giving others a safe space to open up about their mental health issues and disabilities is especially important in these trying times, and I find this role very fulfilling.

I have always believed we should be kind to one another, but I think it is important to remember we also need to be kind to ourselves.

One of the things I have found helpful is just accepting that I will have “bad days”. If it happens it is about being able to give myself a break. To tell myself that this is just a bad day. Tomorrow will be a new day.

Despite everything that has happened and all the challenges I have faced over this past year, a positive is that it has taught me how strong and resilient I am.

I know for anyone struggling it can be really hard to believe you can get through it, but I hope that this will help anyone who might be feeling that way to know that you’re not alone and to feel encouraged to reach out for support if you want or need it.