Not sleeping for five days sparked a freak psychosis… and it made me believe terrorists were attacking my home and my family was DEAD

WATCHING Britain's Got Talent on a Saturday night in April this year, Liz Green, 39, became convinced that an act had died - but she was the only one who had realised.

The formally high-flying manager, from West Yorkshire, felt her sanity slipping away... even believing that World War Three had broken out.

Here she tells her story.

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Watching telly with my partner, it should have been a normal night.

So, when a man got trapped in a glass box of water while performing a stunt on Britain's Got Talent, I normally wouldn't have panicked. It was just a TV show.

But on this occasion, because of my mental state – I became terrified.

I genuinely believed the man on the telly had died and no-one but me had realised.

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I was going out of my mind.

Then, looking online, I saw the bombing of Syria had started.

I honestly believed World War Three was about to break out and that we were all going to die.

I absolutely believed all of it. We live near the Peak District and there are a lot of people who wear backpacks because they are hiking in the area.

For years I’ve stopped and chatted to people outside my house as they walk past with their rucksacks on.

We’re on a camp trail – it’s normal - but that Saturday I was terrified.

I remember thinking, ‘Oh God, they are going to blow us up.’

I was too scared to stand by the windows because of it and I didn't understand it...

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I was - I always had been - a 'normal' woman. I'd never had any mental health problems and until my 30s had a high-flying managerial position, although now I work as a writer.

But towards the end of March this year my friend had an operation and I was looking after her helping her with her children and herself.

I have Meniere's disease, a disorder of the inner ear which causes balance issues so I have to have a routine.

I have to eat the right food and get the right amount of sleep, or I fall ill.

In looking after my friend I fell completely out of my routine.

By early April things had really escalated with my friend. I was spending a lot of time with her and I started to feel off balance - at one point I didn't sleep for five days.

I called the doctor but when I couldn’t get an appointment for a few weeks I really panicked.

I told the GP I’d been in a very stressful situation, that I didn’t feel like myself and I didn’t know what was happening.

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As I got progressively worse on Sunday, April 15,  my partner took me to my parents' house where the police were called.

When we got there my Dad was cooking and had a big bread knife in his hand.

I panicked. I ran into the kitchen and shouted ‘Dad, put that knife down, put that knife down.’

Seeing their faces was awful. They were obviously worried about me but I thought they looked panicked because the world was ending.

I was convinced my mum had dementia – she doesn’t - and I had to look after her.

My mum was trying to keep me calm so gave me an adult colouring book, gave me pens and helped me colour in.

I thought my brother had died and had been killed in a bomb. I really believed it.

Eventually my partner called  the 111 non-emergency medical support number to try to get a doctor out to get some sleeping tablets.

But they heard me shouting ‘we aren’t safe we are going to die' in the background and called the police. They came round and took me to casualty where I was ultimately sectioned.

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I'd been ill in the run-up to my admittance to a psychiatric hospital.

In the days before I'd been sweating and I couldn’t sleep. I was panicking constantly as well and would pace up-and-down.

I felt like I wasn’t in reality, that’s the best way to describe it. Life felt very over-whelming and I didn’t feel like myself and couldn’t relax.

Obviously at this point I told my partner as he didn’t know what was happening.

But it was Friday, April 13 – after around five days of not sleeping – that things really escalated.

That’s when I feel the psychosis start to kick in.

In the early hours of the morning, I was walking round the house.

I didn’t have anything to do but I found myself organising everything.

I didn’t feel right at all and I was very sensitive and very aware of everything. But I carried on…

There were so many things that – all of a sudden – were scaring and terrifying me.

I believed there were crimes happening in the village where I lived or there was a curse on me.

I saw a video about knife crime in the UK and I became terrified. There were so many things….

My boyfriend was really worried as well, but his coping mechanism was to go quiet.

He wasn’t really saying much when I was panicking, even when I worried that he’d died.

I started to think I’d died too. Was I a spirit? Had something happened to me?

I went for a walk and it was terrifying.

I didn’t want to look anybody in the eye. I just sort of shuffled along on the walk, I did my yoga breathing and used my own techniques to keep myself calm, but obviously I was really scared inside.

And then on the Saturday afternoon when my partner was home, we went up to a local farm shop which is usually a beautiful place to go. I love it there.

But I was panicking too much to get out the car. I genuinely believed the world was ending.

The whole world felt like it was on fast-forward in this weird reality.

By the Sunday morning I felt like I needed to try and look normal.... but going to my parents proved I wasn't and that's why my partner called 111 and the police came.

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At hospital doctors wanted me to take a little blue pill to help me, but I wouldn’t – I believed it the tablet linked me to an alternative reality like in The Matrix.

In good faith my partner agreed to sign the papers to have me sectioned at a local psychiatric hospital.

He thought I would be going somewhere to heal but this was far from the case.

After a full day of waiting and lots more trauma I was taken to a mixed-sex acute mental health care ward and given medication.

I was so frightened I had an even worse psychotic episode the first night in there and was taken to the seclusion room held down and injected

Finally I slept - and I needed to.

Over the next 10 days I began to feel better.

However, I didn’t find my experience in the ward a positive one.  I knew I had to keep a log of everything which was wrong in that place and speak up.

I felt scared and alone and seriously misunderstood.

I never had a formal diagnosis but I believe I had a nervous breakdown, triggered by exhaustion.

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For a period after being discharged I was, understandably, very upset. It was very hard to come to terms with what happened. I had flashbacks to the hospital, nightmares and anxiety.

But I decided to write about my experience… to speak up about everything which happened as it was too huge to process, I simply could not hold back and knew I had to do something to help positive change.

It really helped. The words flowed out of me and it healed me – but I want it to help other people too. I have to get this story out into the world.

For details on Liz’s book read her page.

For support on mental health issues contact.

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