Blog, Body Dysmorphia Disorder, OCD, Reflection, Uncategorized

A problem shared …

I saw my counsellor on Thursday night and spoke for an hour about my discovery of dermatillomania. We went into when it had began, how badly I suffer with the condition and how far my problem goes. It was a hard session.

Instead of getting the tube, I walked. Past the hustle and bustle of Oxford Street, through the tourists and traffic, through Green Park and past Buckingham Palace. Fourty five minutes stroll in the chill, instead of 4 minutes on the tube. It was lovely. Alone, quiet and peaceful.

My problem is severe and scarring is extensive, on numerous locations over my body. I’m so upset I’ve never looked into this morn before now. How can I have believed it was only me with this problem? I guess I didn’t realise other people have my particular issues either.

Although I’m mad and upset with myself, I’m feeling much better with myself for sharing the problem. My boyfriend (after three years!) knows why I disappear for long periods of time into another room and look shocked and awkward if he decides to walk into the bedroom when I haven’t heard him coming. And the fact I’ve been able to share it with my counsellor, not feeling judged or ‘weird’, is actually life changing. Without trying to sound cliche and ridiculous.

For the last two nights since counselling, I’ve actually picked a considerable amount less and felt slightly more in control. I’m not going to naive and think that all of a sudden it is going to slowly reduce into no problem, but it has made me feel less cornered by the problem being understood. Thank you to all of the women who’ve shared this problem and made me feel less alien!

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Uncategorized

Seasons Greetings

Christmas this year has been the most perfect and magical one for years. I’ve been craving family company and am absolutely loving being back at my Mum’s.

I wanted to take this opportunity to say a massive Happy New Year to all of you that may read this, and I truly hope this is a great moment to look back on everything you’ve achieved this year, and can look forward to see what’s possible next year. 

Sending lots of love, and looking forward to 2018 being a year of progression, recovery and happiness. 

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Blog, Reflection, Sharing

New Years Epiphany

This next year, alcohol consumption is going to be limited per month to 8 drinks or something. Maybe even less. I can’t deal with feeling so rubbish all of the time, or the hangover stopping me from doing things I want/need to do. The tablets I take all say to avoid alcohol where possible and I haven’t been doing it. I don’t want that to hinder my recovery.

2017 has been a difficult year.

I bought my house in January for my Dad to live in, because he can’t get a mortgage. He’s still not moved in because the house hasn’t been finished. The most frustrating thing in my life is that it’s not finished and I’ve been paying the mortgage and bills for the house for one whole year now. Next month I will take a few days off work and have a solid week at the house and finish it. My dad can get the same week off and together we can get it sorted.

My Nan died in March after a sudden deterioration in her health, and that shook the family heavily. My Nan and Grandad are the head of our family and definitely are the centre of everything, especially for my mum and dad, sisters, brother and I. Still I struggle to process the news and it makes me feel awful that my grieving for her still hasn’t happened.

On the 2nd July our family found out that my brother was expecting a baby boy.  The first grandchild of the family. The pregnancy had been kept from us (as far as I’m aware) because of family issues on his girlfriend’s side and partially because they had only just become an item and so were nervous about us not loving the news. Of course they were wrong! It turns out they had their first scan the day after my Nan’s funeral. My poor brother, having that the day before such a special experience.

On 7th July my aunt passed away. Two deaths in the second family, a mother and daughter. My Grandad was broken and my mum found it so hard. For the last few weeks of her life, my aunt had been in hospital – her cancer had spread and she wasn’t in a good way. At the time I didn’t know the extent of it, but it turns out the disease was not only in her spine, but her pelvis, kidneys, hips, lungs, heart, neck and brain. News that I couldn’t process. Again, news that I still haven’t managed to deal with. I helped care for my aunt for the last 2 years of her life and in that time she became part of my life in a big way. The gap she left is like a hole in the head.

There have been ups and downs in my relationship. Mostly up, I’m happy to report. My depression has definitely impacted the relationship and so getting around that and trying to get better for the sake of us is very important to me.

Having gone though so much this year and living so far from my family has highlighted how much I need them in my life. Perhaps in the next two years it’s going to mean a move back up north somewhere. When it comes to owning a house and having more money to enjoy life, it certainly makes sense.

Counselling is going well and although I have a long way to go, it’s definitely been a leaving curve.  I have thought more about events in my life that have affected me, and also about how I feel.

The road to recovery is still stretched out long before me, but I know that I’ll tread that path this year, getting closer each week to the finishing line.

Blog, Sharing

When it all gets a bit much

Reflecting on my life is becoming part of my every day life. It’s becoming second nature, thinking about how I actually feel about things and how different actions and events shape my life.

This morning I went to counselling with the feeling that every decision I’ve made in my life has been wrong. That everything I have now isn’t correct, and if only I could reverse my life 18 years, I might be able to save it. My career would be different, I’d react differently to situations and shape the person I am into something quite unrecognisable. Now I’m this far into my life, changing it all would impact many lives and be extremely difficult. Am I too late?

The truth of the matter is that I am 27. Surely that’s young enough to do anything?

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My counsellor spoke to me about how I’m feeling about work, and listened to how deflated I am feeling. Working so hard every day to make sure you do everything absolutely to the best of your ability, to feel like there is no acknowledgement. Rewards are out of the question… I’d like to at least feel the management of the business actually realise who you are and the value you bring to their company. She understood this, and then asked about the positives, and what I can focus on as the good in a bad situation. I ended up leaving the session feeling like there were many options for me going forward, and that this job may not be my dream but that it’s just how life works. In odd time and in odd order. No matter the order of things happening though, it’s important to remember you’ll still get to the end goal.

This morning I signed up for Spotify. There’s a deal on at the moment which is just £0.99 for 3 months, and then full price after that. It seemed to good to be true – I am missing music so much right now. It’s always been a large part of my life but in recent times my head has been silent – muted of music, but loud with the scream of my thoughts. I’ve discovered the playlists on Spotify and my god, they are genius. Right now whilst writing this I have The Stress Buster on, and it is beautiful. Definitely worth a go.

Time to lay, listen, breathe and appreciate.

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Blog, Sharing, Uncategorized

Life Lost

In July, 3 days after I turned 27, my aunt died. Aged only 58.

I’d been helping her with bits and bobs through the last 2 years of her time struggling with terminal cancer; attending hospital appointments and treatment as well as staying over at hers just to keep her company.

Right now I wish I’d done so much more.

Before being diagnosed with terminal secondary breast cancer, I didn’t really know my aunt at all. I’d not spent time with her (other than when I’ve been a young child and can’t remember it) and had never visited her house. Now living in London, the opportunity presented itself for me to volunteer as a carer of some sort, which I did.

Not being the easiest of people to read, it was taught trying to get to know my aunt. Where other family members would be loving and openly giving as many hugs and kisses as possible, she was very to the point and methodical. Everything she did was for a specific reason and the way she did things was decided by her previous trial and errors, so if you tried to do anything your own way she was quick to question your motivations for deciding on that specific action. I often felt awkward and unsettled by the fact I couldn’t openly be totally ‘me’, always watching my grammar and pronunciation as well as always double checking her opinion on how I was stacking the dishwasher or making her bed.

It was my aunt who taught me how to do ‘hospital corners’. I remember her being pretty shocked that I hadn’t a clue what she was talking about until she showed me. That is one lesson I will never forget.

Over the course of months and months it turned out that she actually enjoyed my company. Although she never said those words and definitely didn’t laugh at my (obviously) hilarious jokes, she was amused by what came out of my large gob, always challenged my thoughts (in a good way) and always always had time for me. It became a companionship of necessity but I loved knowing that I was keeping her company when perhaps nobody else would have been there.

At this point it’s maybe worth mentioning that my aunt had been single for approximately the last 20 years and so was single, also had no children, lived in north London when most of the wider family lived 200 miles north, and (as far as we know) had many friends, but only a small handful that saw her often. Although they were there when she was sick, they obviously had their own lives and families and so not only did they not have all the time to spend with her but also my aunt didn’t want to feel like she was imposing on them.

I wish she hadn’t felt like she was imposing.

My company was not requested enough, considering how much I could have been there. I didn’t want to push myself on her but reminded her constantly that I’d be there in a heartbeat if she needed me. Or just wanted me to be there. The thought of anybody being lonely is horrific, especially knowing she was suffering physically. Never mind emotionally. How on earth do you go through that without having someone right there with you?!

Bereavement hasn’t yet begun for my aunt or the void she left in my life, but I think about her often. I saved an orchid from her house after she passed which I’m trying my best to care for, and that reminds me of how she loved her plants and growing beautiful flowers, inside her home and in the garden.

Diamond-Feather-Inclusions

Hopefully this blog will act as my therapy in talking about my aunt, and hopefully I am able to talk about all of the things I remember her for and love about her. Nobody will ever replace her, and nobody will come close. She was absolutely one in a million – a clever, independent, focussed, caring and beautiful human being.

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Uncategorized

Maybe I’m not mad, but it sure feels like it sometimes…

My first blog post and hopefully the beginning of an uphill climb.

I started taking prescribed antidepressants last week and have been encouraged by my councellor to keep a diary or journal, so although I started writing on paper I felt it may be better to post online. I doubt any of my stories will be particularly interesting or hook you as a follower, but this shall be my journey of realisation in my illness, confronting everything that is contributing to it and (fingers crossed) overcoming it and managing it.

The reason for the name of this blog and website came from me feeling like I’d gone crazy. I hadn’t realised that depression was my problem until at least two years of suffering had been endured. I’d felt like I wasn’t myself but couldn’t explain why. My interest in everything I’d ever loved was gone and I was literally just coasting through my days.

Finally going to the doctor to explain all the physical symptoms I was having was the moment it turned around and it’s finally dawned on me what was wrong.

There are so many people suffering with mental health and I still can’t believe it’s such a taboo. This is me and this blog shall follow my journey. I’ll share what I’m going through and how I’m feeling, and fingers crossed it will benefit others too.

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