Tag: Mental health

Positive Thoughts

I’ve spent the last few weeks at home with my family enjoying the various delights of Christmas, Chicken Pox and Potty Training, because of this I’ve had a little bit more online time on my hands and have re-discovered the joys of Pinterest.

One of my favourite things to browse and pin on Pinterest are quotes or words of wisdom. I have my own board called “Words of Inspiration” and I wager most Pinteresters have a similar board. Quotes, proverbs and inspirational phrases are big business.

We all have mottos that we live by, or mantras we say to ourselves in times of need. I start each day by coming up with a positive thought about me, about my life in the hopes that a smidge of positivity each day will make me feel and act in more positive ways. It’s a small tool I’m using to fight the depression I’m trying to shake off.

Christmas, for all it’s special family moments can be a hard time. You’re forced to spent 24 hours a day with the people you love most, or if not that, then you’re related to them and love them grudgingly in your own special way. Regardless, it’s tough.

Being confined to barracks due to chicken pox hasn’t helped either, but browsing Pinterest and reading positive quotes, motivational quotes and 1001 things to do with quinoa has helped fend off a little of the black dog thinking.

I am desperate to get back into our routine on Monday. I know most people hate routine and I used to so I understand why. But if like me depression gives you a chaotic mind, then routine can help still that a little. Don’t get me wrong, I’m really just a bit down these days, but last year I was crazy depressed and now I know I have to look after myself to stop going down that road again.

So back to Pinterest, I found this when browsing last night and I thought “YES! I’m having that” so here it is. I think I might print it off and stick it on my fridge next to my “Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels” quote which I’ve clearly been ignoring recently.

You can't live a positive life with a negative mind

I will look at this quote every day in 2014 and reflect on living positively and what that means to me.

Do you have a favourite, inspirational quote? I’d love to hear yours, I need as much, inspiration, motivation and positivity as I can get my hands on.

Thanks for reading.

Here’s Where The Story Ends

I had my first therapy session yesterday. Obviously it stirred up a lot of thoughts and feelings I thought I’d worked through, buried or come to terms with. I felt ok about things yesterday, but having slept on it I realise that I’m feeling very sad about one thing we discussed.

Friendships come and go, they are not linear and it’s unusual to keep lifelong friends. I’ve got some fantastic friends and I’ve hung on to the very best of them. I had a friend this year who was amazing, he emotionally supported me through all the hell, he kept me company when I was (very) lonely, he always said the right thing at the right time to cheer me up. I was very fond of him.

We fell out, something and nothing, but we stopped contacting each other. There was no big row, no crisis point reached. We just stopped. I guess he couldn’t cope with my madness anymore. I was sad for a while. I didn’t really understand and I still don’t really.

In therapy yesterday we were talking about who had been there for me this year. I started talking about him (amongst other people) and told the therapist the story of our friendship. Then I started crying. I don’t cry, I’ve stopped being able to cry, but I started crying.

She was incredibly understanding, I know it’s a small sadness amongst many that I need to address and just get over. I’ve got new, better, lovely, caring friends, but losing his friendship after he supported me so much and for so long was a blow.

She asked me why I was sad. I said that it feels a bit like watching a film and switching off 15 minutes before the end. I’ll never know how his film finishes. Then she said, “And he’ll never know how your film ends, and that’s his loss”.

I don’t think about him very often these days, but I do sometimes wonder about the last 15 minutes of his film. Closure is a bigger deal than you’d think. Closure is good. You don’t need to watch the whole 90 minutes and the closing credits to get closure. Sometimes you just make the choice to stop and move on. I’ve stopped and I’ve pretty much moved on. Progress.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n35C0j3LLB0&w=420&h=315]

Medication’s What You Need…

Medication Since the end of July I’ve been on Sertraline for my anxiety, depression and PTSD symptoms. My GP suggested I go on anti-depressants to give me time to come to terms with and deal with the causes of my issues.

Since then it’s been a bit of a journey for me. It took me almost a month for the awfulness of getting used to the meds and the scary serotonin rushes before they started to kick in. During that time my anxiety generally lessened, but the depression seemed to worsen and I frequently had suicidal thoughts. My self harming was also increasing. Though I was starting to think more deeply about why I felt the way I did.

Over the months since July I’ve come to terms with an awful lot. Accepted an awful lot and discovered an awful lot about what makes me tick and why I behave the way I do. I am a product of my environment and my environment hasn’t always been healthy.

I have been feeling better, stronger, happier recently. I’ve hardly had a suicidal thought or an episode of self harm in about a month, but the one thing that really bothers me is the lack of sleep. One of the most common side effects of Sertraline is twitching. I go to bed and immediately my legs start twitching, kicking out so violently my husband can no longer share a bed with me. On bad nights the twitching takes over my whole body and even my face twitches. It’s awful and I hate feeling out of control.

Recently it’s got so bad my legs are aching badly, it’s like I’ve spent the night running. Only managing about three hours of sleep a night on a long term basis isn’t helping my “recovery” and I knew something had to change, it’s just not sustainable.

I saw my GP this morning, she’s changing my meds because I can’t put up with the twitching any more. Which means over the next few weeks I’ve got to reduce my sertraline dose and then take nothing, then start on my new meds, citalopram.

I’m dreading starting the new meds, I felt so rough with the last lot and I don’t have the emotional or physical energy to deal with this right now. Honestly I’d rather just stop them all entirely rather than go through the rigmarole again. But I’ve got to do what’s best for my family and if that means putting up with it, then that I will do.

I know I’m in for a rough 4-6 weeks, I may become more depressed, more suicidal, the side effects from the new meds might make me ill again. I suspect it’ll be horrible, but hope it won’t be.

I had my first therapy session today. I know it’s going to really help me, it raked up a lot of things I’d buried, opened up old wounds and made me cry. It did make me want to harm myself again but I didn’t. Progress. My therapist seems excellent and has got the measure of me already. I’ve only got another four sessions, which seems too short for someone with so much going on.

I’ll get there. 37 years of hurt won’t fix itself overnight. I know that I hit rock bottom over the summer and I’m clawing my way back up. I also know it’s a journey I can’t make by myself and I’m incredibly thankful for the unwavering support of my husband and friends. Thanks guys x

Stupid

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I’ve been stupid. This is nothing new for me I admit, but this time I’ve really messed up. I’ve got issues like anyone and sometimes, just sometimes I lean on friends too hard. They’re not trained professionals. They don’t know how to cope with me, my moods, my anxieties, my weirdness. I say and do things that are sometimes just wrong or hurtful or inappropriate. I don’t mean to.

photo (20) (600x450)
*Some* of my meds

I seem to have got myself into fortnightly cycles of downers, I’m fine for 13 days and then, boom, my mood goes through the floor and I act up, act down, act weird, do stupid things, say stupid things. This is really not cool. This is really not me. This is really not how I want to be.

As I write this I’m crying. On the verge of losing another friend over this. I’ve got to take ownership and control of my moods, my life. This just cannot continue.

I need a strategy. Previously my strategy was to drink massively and to excess, it was my first thought this morning but I’ve not touched a drop. That’s progress. My second thought was self harm, I’ve not cut or burnt today. Progress. I am getting somewhere. I need a non-destructive way to deal with stuff. Until I find that I’m stuck with dark, harmful thoughts in my head but not wanting to fall back on my old ways of dealing with them.

So, to friends old and new, friends I’ve lost and are losing. I’m sorry. I won’t use my mental health as an excuse for poor behaviour. Pull me up on it, challenge me, don’t let it float by. But love me and hold me when I need to be loved and held. It’s a scary old rollercoaster in my head right now. I know I am getting better but it won’t happen overnight. Bear with me, please, and I’m sorry. I really am.

Learning to live with and accept my scars

I am covered in scars. Sign of a life well lived or recklessly lived I don’t know. I only really regret one scar and I’m working on learning to live with and accept the rest. What is the story behind my scars and what do I really think of them?

I’ve got a number of scars on my wrist from when a glass panel fell out of a door when I was 6. I was lucky not to be cut to ribbons, but the scars are bad and I clearly remember seeing the white of the bone. For the record, bones are very white.

I have a cesarean section scar which is a reminder of my boy. I don’t regret that one bit. At the time, it was the only way for him to get out as he was stuck and we were both in trouble.

I have my back surgery scars. Twice this year I’ve been sliced and diced, so the scar is a very ugly one but hopefully will fade in time. A necessary scar because without it I’d likely be in agony and paralysed. I don’t regret that.

I have had many and various skin conditions so my legs are scarred. To figure out what was wrong I had a biopsy, so I’ve got that scar too which looks like a strange dimple in my calf, as well as marks from the skin conditions which are horrible.

My feet are in a shocking state. Years of secret self harming and picking at the scars have taken their toll. Look at the soles of my feet and you’d be shocked.

But the only scar that bothers me is the one on my hand. I cut it with the blade of some scissors, running the blade repeatedly over my flesh until it opened up. I wanted a visible reminder of my pain. Of that moment in my life which was both beautiful and terrifying. I cut it in June and the scar is still obvious and unlikely to ever really go away. I want it to fade because of what it represents but equally I want it to stay forever as a reminder.

Learning to live with My Scars
Self harm cigarette burn & the scissor scar

I look at my scars and I don’t think they’re ugly. I think they’re me. Others might think they’re ugly or disgusting or shocking but they are part of who I am. They are the map of my progress through life.

Read more ⇒ How I Minimised My Cigarette Burns
Read more ⇒ Healing, happiness and the beauty of my recovery

 

Learning to live with My Scars

I’m a Mental Patient too Asda!

Mental patient costume

In response to Asda and their incredibly tasteless “Mental Patient” fancy dress costume there has been a massive tidal wave of supportive tweets and the hashtag #MentalPatient has started trending.

The hashtag is being used by people like me who have mental health issues. Here is my mental patient costume. Is it scary? Or is it a picture of a “normal” looking woman? Mental health wears many costumes and disguises. We’re not all deranged, unhinged maniacs on the rampage.

I am a wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister, a friend. I am many things to many people. I’m also a mental patient. I have depression, anxiety, PTSD and an eating disorder. I self harm, I’m suicidal, I’m happy, I’m sad. I’m terrible, I’m amazing. I’m not a mad axe murderer. Please do not stigmatise me.

Mental Health: Feeling insufferably bleak

Today I’m feeling low, really low. I’m feeling insufferably bleak. I woke up yesterday wanting to die but got on with my day. So I’m doing what I usually do, I’m writing all of the dark feelings out of my head and hoping I feel better on the other side of it.

My struggles with my own mental health are pretty well documented on this blog so feel free to check the mental health category if you want my back story.

Fact is if someone really want to kill themselves telling them how special they are probably wont stop them doing something unspeakable. It may help some, but I think that’s probably a rarity.

My life has been touched my suicide. Several people I know and love have taken their lives or tried to. It’s about the most horrific kind of pain you con inflict on your loved ones. I’ve seen both sides and both are awful places to be.

I’m feeling low right now and my answer is to blog it. A huge number of blog posts I’ve written I’ve never published for fear they were too bleak. They probably were but to write down my feelings got them out of my head and that did help.

I’ve had a good four weeks, I’ve been feeling chipper. I felt my balance of meds was alright and I was exercising and getting stronger. I’d cut my drinking right down and I’d started eating reasonably regularly too. I saw my GP last week and they wanted to increase my meds. I nodded sagely and agreed but I didn’t want to increase my dose. Things were fine, I felt fine, so why mess with the balance.

Yesterday, suicidal, wanting to self harm I realised they were right. But I’m not going to, not for a few days, I want to see if I can work it out myself, dig myself out of my bleak depressive little hole.

My self confidence is so fragile that all it takes is a small knock for me to be bruised inside. I’m working hard to improve me, why can’t others see that and appreciate me. At the same time I feel so immeasurably selfish for thinking that way. Why should anyone notice or pay me a compliment. Why? I’m worth nothing to them so why is my self worth so bound up in what they think? I’ll work it out.

So if you know someone on the brink, someone depressed, do tell them what they mean to you, how irreplaceable they are and what a wonderful, beautiful human being they are. It might help, it might not, but if the worst happens then at least you know that they knew what you meant to them. It could save a life.

Mental Health: Feeling insufferably bleak

Read more of my mental health posts here.

Internal Dialogue

What to do? Should I listen to the destructive voice in my head? Just now I had a conversation with myself that went like this.

You’re hungry, eat.

No you’ve not eaten since yesterday and you ate a full meal.

You’re hungry, eat.

No, you’ve lost another pound since yesterday, keep it up.

But you’re really hungry, eat.

Maybe I could have a plum. No if I eat that it’ll make the hunger worse.

It’s just a plum. Eat it.

No.

But you’re going to do some exercise now, you need the energy.

No. I’ll drink some water instead.

Fair enough. You really are ill you know.

I know.

Goodnight Vienna

I don’t think I could do it. Kill myself. I don’t have the balls. It’d hurt for a start, probably quite a lot and I’ve got family to think about and care for. When I became a parent, I signed that invisible contract which says you’ll promise to forever protect your child from the darkness. Being ill is pretty dark but not as dark as being dead.

I’ve spent much of the afternoon reading suicide notes online and researching methods. There’s lots out there if you want to find it. Pictures of bodies who’ve died in different ways, none of them pretty. Some of them may have lived fast, died young but there’s rarely a good looking corpse. Faces lined with more pain than a lifetime of depression could ever offer.

I’ve got to stop thinking like this. I’ve got to stop lurking in the darkness and listening to destructive thoughts. I’m better than this. No really I am.

Today has been a good day, I’ve been busy, been for a walk with the boy, did colouring in, lots of cuddles. I’ve done some work, played with my blog. a good day. My boy is out with his Auntie and I’m alone which is why my thoughts have turned to darkness.

It’s easy to cut and harm, to bleed a little, to bruise, to scrape away at skin. It’s harder to still your heart permanently and I’m not going to. I’ve too much happiness ahead of me to go that far. I’ve got to believe that and I do. I really do.

I think.