The past week has been tough.  Its hard to explain what has been going on inside my head and there seems no rational behind it.
Everything in my life appeared on the outside to be going well.
I felt well, had given up smoking, started running, stopped drinking too much caffeine and was looking forward. So what happened?

Dominique in his Wednesday purple jumper plucked a few ideas out of the air but could give no reason, does there need to be a reason?
I shall try and put into words how I feel, words which may not make sense to anyone including myself, but its a positive release.

My head feels broken.
The cracks are showing.
I'm trying to fit in but how can I when I don't seem to 'fit.'
Trying too hard is exhausting.
Talking is exhausting.
Overthinking is exhausting.
Fighting against myself is exhausting.
Sleep isn't what it should be.
Over and over in my head I am analysing things I said, things other people said.
Was I too loud?
Was I too quiet?
Did I say or do something wrong.
I'm like a square peg in a round hole, bashing myself slowly to fit in.
Feeling too much hurts, feeling nothing makes me hurt myself.
Messed up, screwed up, worthless.

I am sorry

I am sorry.....

My heart feels like a knife has been driven through it.

Therapy brought up feelings of sadness, shame, disgust, embarrassment.

At the moment I don't want to feel. Feeling hurts.

It was like being back there, in that moment.  I tried so hard not to cry, not to show my weakness.

There were so many things I wanted to say and so many reasons why I couldn't.

Today I learnt of a friend of a friend who has died.  She was young, she was beautiful, she needed help.

I feel for her family and those she left behind.

I feel for those I love, those who find it hard to cope being around me because I upset them too much.

I feel for the child that I nurtured, who I care for deeply who is hurting. 

I have caused that pain and it only adds to mine.

What you are feeling, I am feeling too.

Mental Health Awareness Week 2018 The past year.

Rydon

As the darkness descends, the noises begin

 Footsteps, the wails and the keys jangling.

 Mind numbing pills that alter your mood

Bad dreams and flashbacks, they still intrude.

Mountainous fences to hold madness in,

Pacing of corridors just to keep thin,

Queues at the hatch to get daily meds

Bells and alarms invading your head.

This is no hotel or holiday camp

The pillows aren't plumped but tear stained damp

There is no pass key to access the door

This is your safe place, until we say go.

As it is Mental Health Awareness week I thought it time I posted an update.

My therapy sessions are going well and yes ,Dom is still wearing the purple jumper on a Wednesday.  We have been working on compassion focused therapy which in a nutshell is showing compassion and kindness to yourself and challenging the negative and unwelcome thoughts. This is not something which comes easy to me and involves a lot of homework and self discovery.

So I want to look back on the past year and recognise the achievements I have made rather than focusing on what I haven't done.  Some of you may have kept up to date with my facebook posts but for those of you who haven't, this is my past year.

  Trigger warning............please do not read further if you may be affected by suicidal ideation or self harm.

May 15th I was in my psychiatrists office with my eating disorders nurse for what I thought was a normal appointment brought forward a few weeks. The previous month I had been in a very bad place despite  a glorious holiday and Birthday celebrations.

My disassociation had got worse; I would often find myself in places and not aware of how I got there.

I was not managing my depression or my food intake, was having scary memories and flashbacks and thoughts of suicide came thick and fast.  The rapid change from being ok, to feeling sad or numb was my norm

There is a difference between thinking of taking your own life and planning it.  My thoughts came at different times.  I could get up happy and quickly descend into darkness. When I was starting to get my affairs into order was the day everything changed....

My psychiatrist had arranged a bed for me at a local acute mental health hospital but wouldn't be available until later that day or the next day.

 It was time for the control to be taken away from me.  The threat of a section was hanging over me If I refused to be admitted.  My illness was consuming me and I still fought to hang onto it.

I was luckier than most. At least my admission was slightly preplanned so I had time to get some personal effects packed, some which were taken away from be on admission as they were deemed a risk to myself.

We travelled to Taunton in silence, it was very daunting and I was terrified.

When we arrived at the ward a nurse introduced herself and took away my bags to be checked.She then offered to show us around the ward.  By this point I was already breaking down so we went straight to my room.  It was basic and sparse,  all ligature points had been removed meaning there were no taps just sensors, no headboard, no toilet seat, all furniture was foam and plastic, it was a 'safe place.' 

Kev said it was the worse day ever leaving me there.  I am so sorry for all the pain I put him and my family and friends through and will always be thankful for their support.

I was lucky to receive many visitors during my stay.  I had mixed reviews on whether they thought it was the right place for me.  I too had similar thoughts.  I didn't feel I fitted in and certainly didn't feel ill enough or deserving of the staff support.  In hindsight I now believe it was the right place.  It served a purpose, helped me to adjust to my medication and kept me safe.

I won't go into great detail about my admission but there are many things that stood out.
I began to recognise staff my their footsteps in the corridor.  I would cry at the noises at night, conflict between patients, the sounds of keys and the girl opposite banging her head on the wall.

I kept myself to myself at first, waiting until everyone had finished before I went into the dining room or sitting on my bed with the door locked. The thought of having to eat with strangers or being watched was paralysing.
 The patients came and went,many came back.  I was thankful to meet a few ladies who I was on a level with and we spent many evenings chatting and watching TV in the female lounge.  I am happy to say that they are both doing well and we meet weekly for coffee.

Most of the staff were caring and supportive although we did have a staff nurse who I named Nurse Ratchett.  If you have ever seen one flew over the cuckoos nest you will understand.
The ward was not set up for patients with eating disorders and often my support was inconsistent with my care plan, and recommendations from my Nurse and Dietitian were not followed.  Nurses said they did not have the skills to help me and I will admit to using this to my advantage at times.
I had a real insight into how people I support may feel.  Especially when your movements are restricted.

Because of my low BMI my activity was restricted.  I tried using the activities room but often it was closed due to staff shortages so we were left to occupy ourselves.  The day I was allowed to use my headphones was definitely a highlight.
At first I was allowed out for a walk with the staff or my visitors but this was soon restricted as I was  deemed to be burning too many calories. My Psychiatrist thought I was cycling!  I was actually going out on the back of Kevs motorbike.  The thought of Kev cycling from Burnham to Taunton would be a site to behold.
One Nurse was always happy to take me out for my 15 minutes 'exercise' so she could have a crafty cigarette, others were not so keen.  It makes me smile when I think of the staff member who said she didn't like walking so was not keen on taking me out.  I soon got her lost and exceeded my exercise time.

We had weekly ward rounds which consisted of myself, a nurse, Dr and the psychiatrist discussing my progress, future plans and home leave.
For the first few weeks I was not allowed leave but this didn't stop me asking Kev to take me home one day with a promise I would return.
The feeling of being in normal surroundings, my sofa, using my toilet and own bath made me appreciate all I have.  It was difficult to return to a place where I was not allowed to be free.
The future plan was to wait for a bed at an eating disorders unit in Bristol.  Unfortunately beds are not readily available so after my discharge from Rydon I waited another 5 weeks to move to the specialist unit.  I will save that for another post.

Back to friends.  I am thankful for all the cards, letters, gifts, visits, messages and videos that got me through.  In such a dark place they brought light to my day.
There has always been a stigma around Mental Health units and I want to stress to anyone reading this, do not feel ashamed or judged.  No-one bats an eyelid if you are inpatient for a broken limb, a broken mind is no different.
My story continues.

Labels are for Jars, not people.

My name is Jackie and I am a person........

Around 16 months ago, after an assessment with my Psychiatrist, I was sat in her consulting room waiting on the results of her diagnosis. At this time you could say I was, not quite myself. 

As she sat at her computer scrolling through the many notes the team had made, the first words she said were, 'now try not to get too hung up on the wording of this.'  Well that was it, I was already into over thinking mode as to what variety of labelling she was going to put on my already fragile shell.

Where am I going to fit in?  How am I going to fit in, I already felt like a misfit, a square peg in a round hole.

'You have Anorexia, recurrent severe depressive disorder, complex trauma ptsd, anxiety and emotionally unstable personality disorder aka borderline personality disorder or bpd.'

Nice suit I thought, my trick cyclist was a snappy dresser.

OK, you can give me 4 of those but bpd.... take it back.  Put it in the reject bin.

My issue with this diagnosis was a person in my past had bpd, and there was no way I was anything like her.  I googled it (don't we all) going through the diagnostic criteria crossing off everything that didn't apply.  I was not going to be like her.

Recently I was doing some work on emotional regulation and my nurse explained it can help with aspects of bpd.  Again I would not accept that this was part of me, how could it?

After working with a psychologist (who doesn't do labels) I have started to use positive coping techniques to help when I feel overwhelmed, in threat mode or feel the need to use negative coping behaviours.  I can now challenge negative thoughts about myself and it helps with over thinking.  I'm no where near being fixed but I am making small steps to recovery...medication helps too.

The point of this post is that I am starting to accept that yes maybe I do have traits of a personality disorder, it does not mean that I am that person I knew before. Some people are just dickheads, and she was a dickhead. 

Having a diagnostic label does not define me.  Sometimes labels come off and you might get dog food when you are expecting peas.

I am a person, an individual.  I am not my anorexia, my depression or my (ahem) personality disorder.

Dom,  (lovely psychologist Man who always wears a grey and purple jumper on a Wednesday) showed me a chart of my weights from 2010 until present day.

He asked me to look at my highest weight and think about who was  Jackie then?

Good shout Dom.  That Jackie was confident and funny, she needs to be found again.

Maybe I've been labelled as tinned prunes when really there's a sweet pud inside.

My name is Jackie and I live with  anorexia, depression, anxiety, ptsd and bpd.  I am a person not my illness.

Please don't tell me..

Please don't tell me I look well....

How you perceive me on the outside is not how I am feeling on the inside.
'Looking well'  is not being picked up by the police in the early hours of the morning after worrying your friends and family half to death...
'Looking well' does not tell you how I sleep at night, trying to shut up the dark thoughts which remain with me the next day.
'Looking well' does not explain how one day I can be bright, animated and fun; but the next the smile slips, the brightness dims, my heart is numb.
'Looking well' does not show you how many times I weighed myself this morning. How I went from elation to desperation in a period of a few seconds and how my whole day is now focused on that number.
'Looking well' is screaming 'why?'
'Looking well' is making my heart bleed.
I have no care for how I look, I just know I do not feel well.

Tell It How It Is.

I have heard the phrase 'Recovery is a journey,' many times. This is a journey 5 years ago which I thought and hoped had ended.  Most journeys end with something pleasant, something worth the wait, with a clear road, no red lights or diversions.
 Other journeys may need a bit of refuelling, a top up of oil and a battery recharge before reaching the final destination.
So where did I take a wrong turn?
Why is this shiny new Porsche  now feeling like a burnt out old banger!!

I knew that it would never be an easy ride as I'd driven this road before but I thought I knew which way  I was steering. I didn't expect to be back in a dark tunnel, but maybe this is how 'it' maps out.
I can see how it started and I know how it can end.

The depression kicked in first. Slowly bringing me down, putting me down , letting me down.
Its friend anxiety paid me a visit too, preying on my every thoughts, picking at my confidence, whispering over my shoulder to do better, sitting on my chest and squeezing the breath out of me, taking away my voice, my passions, my beliefs in me. My trips outside became less and less and usually included earphones in, head down, and panic. My time indoors would be spent just sat, doing nothing.
I stopped being I will, and became I can't.

The energy it takes on a daily basis to function in this frame of mind is immense.  Not answering the door unless I am expecting someone, hiding in my bedroom away from the noise.
The fear of being outside, in places where I can't get away, where I don't feel safe. Where I think people are looking at me because 'They know.'
Sleeping for most of the day through medication or just the sheer need for rest, and not being able to do a simple task without needing a rest again.  Having a really good day then feeling it emotionally and physically the day after because you have given as much as you can.
The food issues wheedled their way in.....skipping meals due to lack of time, routine or circumstance.  What started as something most people do, was sneaking up on me and waiting to catch hold.
I didn't recognise it at first, but others did.
I was questioning my relationship around food and making excuses to myself and others.
'Its the medication, its a normal reaction to being depressed, I eat every day, but I'm not underweight.'
Yes, all the above is still true, but why I am feeling driven to continue, why can I not eat 'normally,' why do I get anxious around food.'
The fact that I am still questioning myself is a positive thing. It means I still have my healthy voice telling my ill voice that I don't want it.
Often my ill voice wins, but the healthy voice is still up for the fight.


Things are getting better.
I am less tired and more focused this week.  The tablets seem to be doing some good and a friend suggested grounding techniques and mindfulness, something I never thought would be for me, but so far so good.
I am aiming to get out each day.  Either for a walk, a visit to a friend or the dreaded supermarket.
I am now getting quite good at focusing and counting on items at the checkout to bring me back to the here and now, rather than the anxiety and sensations of panic.
I set myself goals, however small or insignificant and try not to berate myself if I haven't managed them.

I have seen a nurse at my local practise for bloods etc. A counsellor told me to think of this as self care as opposed to medical.  I think she was right.  I am lucky that I am still classed as being within a healthy weight range for my height ( I've apparently shrunk!!)  I have to tell myself this does not mean that I do not need or deserve any professional help, The only person judging me is myself.

This is me getting off the highway to hell and back on the road to recovery.

January 24th . Time To Talk

The biggest problem with medication for Depression is they generally make you feel like shit, and I have been seriously feeling like shit!

A chemical hangover is not nice.  After 10 hours sleep I should be waking up refreshed not wanting to hide my head under the pillow, wrap myself in the duvet and go into a lock down for the rest of the day..... or weekend.

I think at the moment its a bit of a balancing act, trying to get the timings right so as not to disrupt my day.

I'm functioning OK at work but really having to challenge myself with lots of self-talk. I put all my effort into focusing on my work and being the best I can, by the time I get home I really can't be arsed anymore. I am starting to get the,'whats wrong,' 'you don't seem yourself,' 'you look like you've lost weight' statements. I have learnt to smile, brush off the comments sand carry on with my day.

Why do we find it so damn hard to talk about Mental Health??  Maybe I'm scared of my colleagues responses,If I had the flu I wouldn't think twice.

February 6th is Time To Talk about Mental Health Day, maybe then we can start a change.  Just maybe I will start a conversation.

January 20th. It's ok.

It's OK to say, I'm not OK,

That I'm back on the 'happy pills'

That I struggle to get out of bed,

And the smile on the outside doesn't show,

On the inside I feel dead.

It's OK to admit I feel a fake,

That I let people down,

That the things I say,

I don't always feel that way.

It's OK to say it's a struggle,

That I'm fighting the thoughts in my head.

But I'm fighting,

Not giving in,

And that's OK,

I will be OK.

I will continue to win.

A friend said to me recently, Stop pretending everything's OK when it's not." And she is right.

Everything is not OK and it's OK to admit that.

It's really shocking how quickly depression can creep up on you and before you know it, bang you're sucked into the black hole and everything that goes with it.

I was afraid to admit something was wrong for many reasons.  I didn't want to worry my Family or Friends. I felt I was letting people down in the Eating Disorders community, those I was trying to support. I felt a failure in myself as I always said I would never feel this way again.

I have had to put myself first and feel bad for disconnecting from the groups and forums I was involved in....but I need to keep myself safe.  I have hidden any posts from my news feed from Facebook friends which may be weight/diet related as I currently feel unable to cope with seeing these. I have stopped posting on a blogging site as I was expected to comment on fellow bloggers posting, often these were also diet related.

I have no reason to feel the way I do, there are no triggers, no issues...I am confused.

My Doctor said it goes with the territory and I shouldn't beat myself up about it. I'm back on the happy pills and I go back to see her in 3 weeks.

I still advocate recovery from eating disorders, and I do believe I will get through this bit of a blip.

It is OK not to be OK.

January 13th.

Sometimes,

Just sometimes,

When you're not expecting it,

It creeps up and smacks you in the face.

Picks at you bit by bit,

Shedding the confidence and leaving you open,

vulnerable,

Naked.

Ashamed of letting yourself down.

And others,

Those who need you,

Those who believe in you,

But you can believe in you.

Challenge,

Question,

Fight back.

Don't be a victim of yourself,

You're a survivor.

I am the 1 in 4

Many years ago whilst as a student at college, my tutor told the class that 1 in 4 of us would at some point in our lives suffer from a mental illness. I remember visually scanning the room trying to hazard a guess who would be the 'nutty' one. For one minute I never thought it would be me!

I cannot pinpoint at what age my mental health problems began, but thinking back it was probably at quite a young age. I was always a very emotional and highly strung child, my medical records noted 'attention seeking,' but not once did anyone ask me what was gong on in my life. 

I was taken to many appointments when I was in primary school, non of which I can remember much about but I was always told to tell the teacher it was 'personal.' The clinic I attended was attached to a local psychiatric hospital, the place my Mum always said I would drive her to...........
My teenage years weren't filled with the angst you would expect, they were filled with sadness, fear and dread and on reflection I can now recognise the beginnings of stress, anxiety and something I rarely discuss, self-harm.
As I left home and moved from my early teens to my late teenager years the feelings I had remained.I didn't know what to do with them or how to cope with them.....so I self medicated with alcohol.....and lots of it.
When I think back to the times I sat just numb, feeling nothing and then switching to hours of crying. I had no idea what was going on in my life!
I remember having a really positive period then sinking again. It was at this point I realised there was a difference in my behaviour and a dramatic change in my mood but still I didn't do anything about it.
In the late 80's there was still a huge stigma around mental illness, it was something that wasn't really discussed and therefore I didn't seek any professional help. It wasn't until I was in the depths of an eating disorder that I realised only with the help of friends that I had a serious problem, and sought help.
This was where my 'recovery,' albeit unsuccessful at the time from Anorexia began.
I am now recovered from my eating disorder but at times do have bouts of self- doubt mixed with anxiety and stress. I am very much a people pleaser and perfectionist. I hate to get things wrong and over think, worrying constantly.  Recently I have been feeling quite depressed again and it can hit me with no warning.  I am very mindful of this and am working to put self care strategies in place to not let it eat me up.

The main reason for this post today is in recognition of World Mental Health day and to stress that we are not all knife wielding crazy people like some tabloid newspapers like to make out!!
There has been a recent scandal with 2 major Supermarket chains selling 'Mental patient,' costumes for Halloween, suggesting that these patients were scary and you would run away from them!!
Some people have said that protesters were overreacting and it was political correctness gone mad. Take it from me, I understand the stigma of being a patient in a 'mental' hospital. I have had to be treated by a dentist whilst an in-patient who was visibly frightened to treat me!

Mental illness is scary, mental illness is isolating, but try to remember we are people just like you and I and sometime we just need to be asked if we are ok.........xxxxx

Mental Health Awareness Week, Exercise is good for the mind.

This post should have been written yesterday if not even earlier in the week, but that just about sums up how my week has been!!!  I had it mentally written it in my head at about 2 am this morning and at that point should have acted on it.  After a particularly stressful and busy day at work I came home with the beginnings of a migraine. Trying to kick it into touch I decided to go to bed at 5 pm  waking at 9.30 pm and subsequently was unable to sleep for the majority of the night.

Not a good start to my first aid training today. I'm sure at one point my lack of interest and droopy eyes would have given the instructor good reason to confuse me with the resuscitation dummy. The only visible difference was that I had legs!!

Anyway, back to the reasons behind this post. This week has been Mental Health Awareness Week, and the theme being Exercise and Well-being I thought I could share my recent experiences of exercise and fitness and the benefits to your mental health.

To a lot of people you mention exercise, and visions come to them of testosterone packed gyms, sweaty bodies, pumping iron or pounding the pavements. There is so much emphasis put on the body beautiful, the visual, improving your physique, getting a flat stomach or 'bikini body' and fat burning. What about reducing your risk of diabetes, heart disease, stroke, osteoporosis or keep your body and mind active?  Not forgetting the social aspect, enjoyment and fun. Yes.... exercise and fitness can actually be fun. Have you ever tried Zumba?

Whats going on inside of your skeleton is more important than what you look like outside of it!

I originally signed up with a personal trainer because I needed to get my body back to the strength it was before I had an operation, and also because I needed to tone up the muscles which hadn't been used due to immobility. I was aware of concerns friends had due to my history of eating disorders but was confident in my ability to be mindful of what I could achieve, and I was the one in control......or rather Phil the trainer was!

So for the past 3 weeks I have been out twice a week if not more being pushed and motivated to run, walk, jog, punch, lift kettle bells, plank, crunch, squat and various other punishing exercises. I have no idea if I have  changed my body in any way shape or form yet but what I do know is this,

* I have a great sense of achievement from reaching a goal, however small.

* I feel like I am looking after my body rather than abusing it.

* Despite the often hard routines I laugh and keep my sense of humour.

*When I have had a bad it gets rid of my tensions and angst.

* It helps me to sleep better.

* It increases my mood and energy level.

*I have an increasingly healthy appetite!

*My lung capacity has increased.

* I am motivated :)

What a brilliant list of things that improve my mental health and well being without taking medication, drinking excessively, smoking or eating too much or too little. 

Other things I have learnt from exercising:

* regardless of the size of your boobs 2 sports bras are better than one.

* star jumps are no good if you haven't done pelvic floor exercises after childbirth!

*The man on the seafront likes to watch me do chest presses so now I face his lounge window :)

*Kettle bells hurt if you hit yourself in the leg.

* My coordination is crap but makes it funny.

*When Phil says'duck' move your head out of the way or you may get hit.

* visualise someones face on the pad when boxing, I can guarantee a stronger punch.

*Star jumps are better if you sing YMCA along to them.

* The hokey cokey can be sang along to most exercises.

*When I do squats I look like I'm having a poo.

*Lycra is never attractive......end of!

*apparently I gurn a lot.

* I look like I'm having sex when doing several floor movements. (not sure how Phil knows this)

*I say, "I can't" a lot, then do it and swear.

*I like to run up grass banks, but get a little scared going back down.

So there you have it. Exercise is fun and good for you, but know your limitations. On that point I must share I'm having a week off as I've knackered my knee. My exercise this week will involve lifting a glass to my mouth and pointing the remote at the TV. Have a good weekend.

Advent Calendar. Day 8.

Candles are lit as darkness falls - what light shines in your darkest times?

On the first night of Hanukkah thanks is given for miracles, strength and sustenance -

what in your life is miraculous?

What are you thankful for?

What brings light to your world?

"May the lights of Hanukkah usher in a better world for all humankind."

~ Unknown ~

To live in the dark, to see no light at the end of the tunnel, to see no hope, no future is one of the saddest places to be.

The transition from darkness to light is hard, painful but joyous.

The freedom from depression, from pain, guilt and self-hatred is worth celebrating.

So when I think of light I think of my life, my family and my friends. 

I am thankful for my support network and my strength and resilience.

 I am thankful for my opportunities, my experiences. 

Above all,I am thankful for my life.

Advent Calendar. Day 6. Dear Santa.

"Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

not a creature was stirring - not even a mouse:

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there..."

~ Clement Clarke Moore ~

Dear Santa......

I have been a good girl.....honest.

Well most of the time, with just a few hiccups.

I've done my best at work,

I've eaten up my greens,

I've done my bit for the elderly,

but I'm not perfect by any means.

At times my life feels a mess,

My body, my head is in a spin,

Being dragged into a pit of stress,

And then I remember what could have been....

So Dear Santa,

My Christmas wish list is this.

For My Son, a future filled with Joy, experience and no regrets.

For My Husband, satisfaction in his work, knowledge that he needs to be no more to me than he is.

For my friends.....

Freedom from guilt, blame, depression and anxiety.

For me.....

Nothing, I have all I need. 

except perhaps a beautiful pair of Tiffany earrings :)

World Mental Health Day

Today marks World Mental Health Day. 

Drowning in Depression

Sinking deeper, stronger,

Into a black hole of despair,

The days are long, nights longer,

I cry out but there's no one there.

My senses numb, no feeling,

You can see through my eyes,

My heart is on my knees screaming,

Would anyone care If I was to die?

Jackie

This poem is feelings surrounding depression and the despair felt.  I am pleased to say that I do not feel like this anymore. :)

The facts and figures around Mental Health in the UK are alarming.

• 1 in 4 people will experience some kind of mental health problem in the course of a year

• Mixed anxiety and depression is the most common mental disorder in Britain

• Women are more likely to have been treated for a mental health problem than men

• About 10% of children have a mental health problem at any one time

• Depression affects 1 in 5 older people

• Suicides rates show that British men are three times as likely to die by suicide than British women

• Self-harm statistics for the UK show one of the highest rates in Europe: 400 per 100,000 population

• Only 1 in 10 prisoners has no mental disorder

(stats from the Mental health foundation.)

Chances are then, that sometime in your life you will either have contact with a person, or yourself experience a mental health problem in some degree.  Mental illness sucks.  It cant be patched up, supported with a crutch, given a quick fix or operated on.  Its not visible and is often misunderstood or judged.  People are embarrassed to discuss it, they don't know what to say or how to help.

I first experienced mental illness in my late teens in the form of depression, though at the time I didn't recognise it. I know we all have those 'sad' moments, but this was bigger than that.

I spent most of my time in a dark cloud, feeling trapped and sucked deeper on a daily basis into a life of 'nothingness.' I had intense feelings of loss, isolation, anxiety and fear, some days I felt nothing and wanted nothing........

My anorexia has always gone side by side with depression although I'm not sure which comes first, bit of a chicken and egg situation!  Years ago there was a huge stigma surrounding mental illness, I was embarrassed to discuss it at work for fear of being labelled as 'mad'. The hospital where I was an inpatient was even worse, labelled as a 'mental,' hospital!!  I'm pleased to say things have changed although the process of referral for treatment for a mental illness is still disgraceful. 

As adults we know how we should look after ourselves. Eat a varied, balanced diet, drink sensibly, exercise regularly blah blah.... but how do we look after our mental health?

Talk about your feelings. Talking therapies or sharing your troubles with someone you trust is a positive way forward.

Relax or escape and do something you really enjoy.  Take a walk whilst listening to your ipod, have a bubble bath, write some poetry.  Do something for 'you' to get you away from the moment.

Accept yourself for who you are. We are all different and that's what makes us so damn interesting.

Focus on your positives, write some sticky notes naming all the great things about 'you.'

Ask for help.....

Don't be afraid to speak up. Asking for help is not a weakness, it only shows strength and determination.

This to shall pass.

Whilst laying in bed last night alternating between the rising crescendo of snores and the never ending hip and chest pain I had written today's blog in my head.  The title; each word flowing with ease, but today putting pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard not so easy.
I think a lot at night; my thoughts similar to my day to day conversations.  Flitting from one topic to another never finishing one train of thought before moving on, but in the forefront was that niggling voice.....
Its been a difficult month.  I started to get ill with the usual cold and cough early December, moving on 6 weeks, several courses of antibiotics later, 2 chest x-rays, numerous weeks off work, a hacking cough and chest pains, one postponed hip operation and I began to feel quite low.
My height of 'depression' came on February 11th, what would have been my closest friends Birthday.
Becky had been my friend for nearly 13 years and when she died nearly 3 years ago we had not spoken for over a year.  The circumstances around our fall out were difficult and unfortunately sometimes when things are said and done, theres no going back.
We had a difficult friendship at times, we would argue, she would strop off and we always made up......but not the last time. When she died it was final, no saying sorry, no chance to say goodbye.
Becky always loved her birthday, an excuse for getting dressed up and hitting the town.
How bittersweet that I spent her Birthday celebrating the Birthdays of two close friends which I wouldn't have missed for the world.
Back to that niggling voice.  Maybe Ive had too much time on my hands, maybe my eating disorder goes hand in hand with my mood.  For months now I have had a positive relationship with food, but recently I have had to start checking myself.  My emotions and feelings have started to have an impact on how I approach food and how I feel about myself.  .
To whoever is reading, please don't panic and I don't want to talk about it.  Things are ok, I'm acknowledging how I feel and will act on it in a positive way.
Next week is Eating Disorders Awareness week, so expect a little bit more of me....