Blog, Sharing

A Quick One

Trying to make this blog run in any order or make total sense, I’m afraid, is currently impossible. I find my mind flitting from one thing to the next, totally uncontrollably. Bear with me!

I find my counselling sessions are just as frustrating. Things are taken from my shoulders be being shared with my counsellor, but often I start on one subject and then it seems to seamlessly change to another 6 subjects, without fully exploring the first thing. If this sounds familiar, then you’re not alone!

My mum described this to me last week, and ever since, I’ve felt better about it:

The issues you have and are sharing with your counsellor is like a knotted ball of string (or fairy lights – lord knows how annoying that is to untangle!). You untangle one knot, and then you’ll find you can untangle another knot at another end of the string. They are not near each other and it’s annoying that you are trying to make the end straight and work along in order. But you can’t.

Each knot you untangle is a tiny bit of straight string. They are all over the place but nevertheless, the bits of straight are becoming larger. Eventually they will meet.

The counselling sessions work in a similar way. It won’t all make sense immediately but eventually it will (hopefully!) fall into place and it’ll make sense.

Do you ever feel like you’re going through the motions of a life but not feeling it?

I am definitely at the stage in my life where I have to change it up.

My counsellor asked me today what me being ‘happy’ looked like. I explained.

Should I be worried that the happy me was slim, well dressed and happy at work but there was no mention of family or friends? At the moment I worry about the meaning of everything I have and haven’t said…

My counsellor then asked me when I was last really happy.

I said I don’t know.

I’ve had happy times in my life and had happy things happen, but I wouldn’t say I’ve ever been 100% happy. All through my life I’ve been horrifically self conscious for many reasons and had drama going on with family which is upsetting at the best of times.

I can’t believe I’ve never been totally content and happy. Although I can’t say I’ve ever been in bliss. How have I not realised this before?!

Blog, Sharing

The moment of realisation.

The moment your brain actually decides to evaluate all of your symptoms and realise that 2 + 2 = depression is a glorious moment. Not only do you realise that no, you didn’t actually turn into a mad man, but you are also able to be cured and not end up in a mental hospital.

For a long while I was suffering with a long list of physical and emotional symptoms and it was getting me seriously down in the dumps. I’m not usually ill in general and for all of my ailments to point to no cure was so frustrating and also worrying. So (eventually) I wrote lists.

The first list was showing all of the things that were on my mind long term, or that were affecting me (mainly making me nervous, stressed or anxious).

  • Loss of Nan
  • Worry for my Grandad now alone
  • Loss of my aunt
  • Worry for my Grandad, Mum and all of that side of the family for the losses of Nan and aunt
  • Fertility worries
  • Polycystic ovary syndrome problems
  • Trying to lose weight
  • Can’t sleep
  • Trying to help cousin with new business
  • Guilt and sadness for another aunt on the same side of the family who’d been recently hospitalised
  • Mum is exhausted and I’m extremely worried she wouldn’t be ok
  • Dad works too much and is too tired and very sad.
  • Work stresses – ridiculous work load, pressure to study, pressure to progress, client visits and events, not any/much support. Work approx 10 hours overtime a week for which I don’t get any overtime pay. Scared of having claims made against me for mistakes or not actioning something that a client has sent, if I’ve missed it.
  • Friends putting pressure on me to meet up and spend money.
  • Flat – just moved out and have loads less money than before
  • Just bought a house – contractors, money, bills, labour that I have to do
  • Living in my overdraft
  • No money to actually enjoy myself.

The second list was a list of every physical symptom I was feeling.

  • Headaches
  • Grinding teeth day and night
  • Bad dreams – loss, death, rejection
  • Exhaustion
  • Dizziness
  • Talking – forgetting words, slurring, mind going blank mid sentence.
  • Sensitive (emotionally)
  • Chest pain – sharp stabbing pain sometimes and makes it painful to breathe
  • The feeling that my head will implode
  • Everything in my head is moving too fast for me to process
  • Sex drive very low
  • Reluctance to get out of bed
  • Just want to be alone, asleep, unconscious
  • Always panicking about dying
  • Ulcers in my mouth sometimes
  • Dippy belly a lot of the time or totally constipated
  • Biting my nails
  • Not worth making an effort with appearance
  • Extremely distracted
  • Clumsy / accident prone
  • Often sweaty even when cold
  • Anxiety

Both lists were pretty long to be honest!

Realising what was wrong and getting the help was like getting to the petrol station with an empty tank. Like I’d been running on empty for so long, hoping to survive, and then finally getting to a pit stop with help at hand.

Listen to your body! It tells you when things are wrong and it’s us that choose to ignore these signs!

I can already say that counselling is absolutely changing my life. I can also say that going on antidepressants was the best thing I could have done too. I was diagnosed with depression in March but thought I’d get through it, and have only just started on Sertraline. I wish I’d started them in April!

If you’re going through hard times, talk to someone trusted about it. Go and see your doctor. Write down how you’re feeling. Get help. Turn it around 🙂

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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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