Imma eat some worms

Not too sure about you, but I constantly think the world hates me. That everyone I talk to is fed up of me, that they just appease me because they’re too nice to tell me to do one. I genuinely do not believe that the people I interact with in a day (close friends aside), actually want anything to do with me. I leave every single conversation, scrutinising everything.

What is the deal? Why? Why must I do this to myself? Why must I care? O.o I’m cool with people not liking me, I get I’m not going to be everyone’s cup of tea. I think what gets me is they might be being nice to my face, but then not nice behind my back, or even just thinking to themselves that they want me to just f*ck off, but are too nice to say so.

As someone who is acutely self-aware, I pick holes in everything I do. It’s actually one of my obsessions. Myself. I am my own obsession. Not even in a good way. You know, not like I sit here thinking I’m da bomb, and marvel at how awesome I am. Instead, I sit and magnify all the negatives about myself. About how I look. How I sound (this is a new one, my voice, I now hate it), how I am as a person, my morals, how I live my life, am I a nice enough person?  I scrutinise it all, and I worry that if I see all these things, and it irritates me, how must I come across to others? What must they think when they see me? Do I repulse them, how I repulse myself? What about my acne? Do they think I’m not clean? It’s exhausting.

So what do I do? That’s right, I talk about myself, and all of my flaws, and short comings, quite publicly….a lot! Why? I think it’s because I want the world to know, I’m aware! I know I’m not good looking, I have skin issues, I’m fat, I’m not that clever, I know all the bad things about myself. More than anyone will ever appreciate, and I think I need the world to know, I know, so they don’t judge me and think I don’t.

Even writing that out, it sounds totally mental, but this is how I am. The very second I fuck up, I’m vocalising it to people. Otherwise I will worry someone will notice it and be all “Oh look, she fucked up again”, so I want to pip them all the post. How self-indulgent does that sound? This is me assuming that people care enough about my fuck ups to even have that reaction. I have convinced myself that everyone cares about all the things I self-obsess about. Then there is my appearance; as soon as I enter a conversation with someone I need to point out how crap my hair is, my new spots, my weight. As, again, I’ve convinced myself they’re judging me. Utterly self-indulgent. It’s so cringy.

Now I worry that I come across as narcissistic. This has been my new worry; “Here she is, talking about herself again”, is what I think they’re all thinking. Does this stop me talking about myself, laying it all bare, no? I need them to know, I know. It will then lead me into an anxious spiral, where I will replay everything I just said about myself, then think things like “Honestly, do you think they care? Get a grip and stop it”, followed by “You should have explained more, maybe they wouldn’t think you’re so self-obsessed … “. This then leads me to self-loath some more.

It is these thoughts, coupled with how a few people have been with me of late, that has lead me to the overall conclusion – No one likes me. That’s it. I have but a few friends. Other than this, the world just puts up with me, because they’re either too nice, or just two face – not made my mind up which yet. I’m sure I’ll overthink the shit out of this later, and categorise everyone into the group I think they best fit. Yes. I’m that sad.

Definitely not in a good place right now. My head is well and truly minced from all the thinking, self-loathing, obsessing, worrying, and stress. I’m feeling down and angry all the time. Taking it out on those closest to me, by being short and unreasonable. I know I’m doing it, but I can’t stop myself. I know I’m an absolute horror of a person. I watch it all play out, I hear myself, I cringe, and I hate it, yet I cannot stop it. The bubble of rage I feel about life in general just overwhelms me. So why rage? Why am I so angry? My life isn’t bad. I’m actually very lucky. I think it’s just certain situations, and some people, that I really let get to me.

I’m back to the whole, life is unfair, why me crap again. Add into that, the fact I’m now convinced that no-one likes me and their being nice is superficial, and my being self-obsessed, I’m absolutely wired with anxiety.

If I could honestly have anything in the world, just one wish, it would be simple. I just want to be happy. I’ve read so many self-help things, and they all say the same thing, that you need to learn to be happy with yourself and what you have. Why do I find this so difficult? Anyone looking at my life, would tell you, I have it pretty good.

So, what’s the plus side here? Where is my PMA? Have to admit, I’m bloody struggling to find any just now. About the only thing I can think of is, I have my psychology appointment next week. I’m both happy and nervous about it. This whole meeting a stranger, who I need to try and explain all the madness that is my thought process and try to make sense of it, so that they can tell me what is wrong with me, and how to make it kindly do one. I’m not naive enough to believe this appointment will be a magic wand, it’s just the first step of many. I just really want this to all go away L I’d even just settle for feeling content. I can forego happy for content. I just can’t deal with being this sad anymore.

Apologies for my PMA not quite being what it should be, but I cannot lie and be all upbeat when I’m really not feeling it. I will write again once I’ve had my appointment, as I’m sure I’ll have something to say – hopefully something more positive!

New Year, New Me Bullshit…

So far, this year I’ve used up all of my holidays on moving to a new house (twice!). I’ve moaned about this fact, as I genuinely feel that I never actually get a break. The whole year has been really busy, with home life, work, being unwell, relationships etc it’s both physically and emotionally exhausting. Every day I’m a raging moaning bitch, who’s pissed off at having so much to do and not enough hours in the work week, then not enough time at the weekend to catch up on the house and definitely no time to spend on me, or relaxing.

Currently, I’m on my Christmas holidays and at the start it was full on, with all the shopping, cleaning, prepping, organising, and Christmas drama. Every day I get up, I feel like I must achieve something; cleaning, shopping, going somewhere etc. There always must be something, I can never ever let myself just chill. I know this is because I worry about the anxious thoughts getting time to creep in, and this fills me with enough dread to motivate me to always keep busy.

Now though? Well for the last two days, I’ve chosen to do absolute bare minimum. I woke up yesterday (New Years Eve) and I had an itinerary of the cleaning and prep I was going to do for last night. I quickly scrapped this when I realised that it was the last day of the year and there was no way I was spending it going 100 miles an hour.

I have spent the last day of 2017, doing some basic surface cleaning, some minimal food prep for some munchies to have last night, and then spending some time with the kids playing games. It was a stress-free day, one where I didn’t have to shout or moan. First day of 2017, that was completely stress free, and a little sad that it only happened on the last day. I have now woken up on the first day of 2018, and I have made the decision to have an equally chilled day. Again, today has consisted of some basic cleaning, but for the most part it has been chilled.

I have been very sad and stressed for a long time, I think these feeling start to feel ‘normal’. I’ve become accustom to always being wired, fuelled on little to no sleep, moody, stressed, and sad. It needs to stop. For my health, sanity and for the health and sanity of my children. The last 2 years, I have been so very unhappy. I’ve looked to those in my immediate life to help alleviate this feeling. I’ve looked for comfort, help, appreciation and the need to feel wanted. Like my life actually matters, and I’m not just a glorified housemate, maid, care giver, a friend that will do when you’ve naff all else better etc. This is definitely where I’m going wrong. No-one but me can help me.

My new year new me bullshit for this year, will in fact not be bullshit, for a nice change. I will endeavour to make more time for me! I fully intend to spend more time doing things that make me happy and with people who make me happy, and I them.

So, the negative here is that I neglect myself, I’m always stressed, and I upset myself about people in my life not giving a shit. However, the positive is so much better, because I recognise it all for what it is, I know what is wrong, and I will work on making a change. As with everything I do, I will make a list, or maybe even a spreadsheet? Lol. I will just take each day as it comes. No more spreading myself thin, trying to over achieve, spending longer hours at work, stressing over house work, hell, stuff being stressed period! I’ve had enough of it!!

Happy New Year Guys! Here is to 2018 being the year of moving forward, finding happiness, being less stressed, and surrounding ourselves with people who fill our lives with smiles and happy memories!

Jolliest bunch of assholes this side of the nuthouse

Christmas is always a funny time of year for me. I love the idea of Christmas, and I love being able to spend some quiet time at home, with my family. What I don’t love? Is the copious amounts of money you need to spend, the amount of time/effort one day sucks out of your life, and the level of Christmas cheer I always feel I need to achieve. Also, it doesn’t help that my husband works away, and is away this Christmas, again!

Christmas is always so much hard work! I assume I’m not the only one who looks at Christmas as being much harder, than it really needs to be. I also hate that my family is sooooo far from what you see in the movies. Even the Griswold’s have their shit together more than us.

For those of you who read my blog regularly, you’ll know that my Dad has been living with us for the last few months, due to ill health. I have always said, even from a young age, that I would look after my parents if they ever took unwell. I would hate to think of them being alone, or not being looked after properly. This has not been as smooth as I would have liked. I knew it would be hard, going back to living with a parent, but when this parent is one you’ve never actually lived with, and who is one of the most difficult people on the planet to get along with, that does pose a bit of a problem. There have been waaaaay more downs, than ups. Most days I wonder if it was a good idea, but then the guilt of telling him it’s not working and he needs his own place tears me up inside. Despite there being many downs, especially of late, it was Christmas. I was determined this was going to go well. Words had been had a few days earlier, where I’d asked if we could just get through Christmas and make it a good one for the kids. It was agreed we could do this.

Friday 22nd December, was my first day off for the holidays. I chose to spend this day cleaning, moving furniture, dancing to some radio station dedicated to Christmas songs, and wrapping presents. When I woke up in the morning I was really excited to get started, but, by the same token dreading the effort it was all going to take. I thought that I needed to just throw myself out of bed and hype myself up for the day ahead. What this really meant, was I went a bit manic for a couple of hours. I was dancing and singing around the house, being a little overzealous. Can’t be bad right? Well, it resulted in my pulling my back, and rendering me in quite a bit of pain. Also, I think my daughters were a little scared of just how ‘happy’ I had become, as they kept asking me if I was ok. I said I was, but I think even the level of manic happy I had reached, was beginning to scare even me. I needed it though, because I felt that if I let the ball drop, and I stopped smiling and singing, I’d lose it, and I’d just sink into myself and not bother. It was 21:45 before I turned the hoover off and that was my cleaning done. No time to wrap, as I was just so tired, so felt I could leave it until Saturday.

Saturday 23rd was my shopping day. This year, in my infinite wisdom, I had decided to leave the Christmas food shopping to last minute and not pre-order our Turkey Crown. Let’s just say, that 3hours of my life were lost in the supermarket, I spent nearly 3 times more than I had anticipated, and I left without a turkey crown. Gutted. Who in their right mind wants to pull giblets out of a turkey? Why do they leave them in? What is their purpose? Answers on a postcard. The whole shopping experience, quite nicely, popped a pin in my rather manic Christmas cheer bubble. I was now tired, drained, skint, and bemused at how food could cost so much? I did check, and double check our receipt to be sure that nothing was double scanned, but nope, it was correct.

My Dad had decided he was going out with friends, to do the rounds and have a few drinks. Fair enough, this was good for me, as it was one less person in the house to worry about. Being so ‘happy’ throughout Friday, and then 3 stressful hours lost in a supermarket, really took its toll in the evening. A good friend of mine popped over to have a drink with me whilst I wrapped the remaining presents, but she ended up leaving early, due to me now nodding off. I had literally exhausted myself, trying to be all happy and full of Christmas Cheer.

Sunday 24th, Christmas Eve, yaaaay. I woke up in the morning, feeling a sense of calm. It was nice. I knew that the last two days had been really busy, and stressful, but I had nothing left to do. My Dad was going to bring the remaining items I needed in with him, when he came back later in the day, the house was still all shiny and clean, and all I had to do was spend time with the kids. Time to set up the RetroPie, and play some retro games with the kids. All was going well. Too well you might say. I hadn’t had to shout at anyone, I wasn’t feeling stressed, we were laughing, having fun. It was great.  Then, my Dad rocks up, still drunk from the night before, none of the important items he was supposed to pick up, and a bit of an attitude. Fabulous.

I will not go into detail, but let’s just say, Christmas eve was completely ruined. I had plans to have friends over for present exchanges, and family, but I ended up having to scrap that due to me not wanting people to see him in this nick. The kids were now not happy, given his actions throughout the afternoon/evening. What had started off as a really good day, was now well and truly ruined. I tried my best to supress my feelings of complete and utter anger. I didn’t want to ruin it any further for the kids. All that was left, was for me to cry. This was tears of utter frustration. How can someone be so incredibly thoughtless and selfish? Is it because they’ve never had to consider life with children? Who actually knows. Either which way, I was furious. And for those of you that know me, or who read this blog, you know I cannot just be furious. Let’s add into the mix, my being completely upset, beside myself, feeling an overwhelming sense of failing my kids. Then the anxiety of worrying what they must think of me. Do they hate me for letting him live with us?

Growing up with alcoholic parents is hard going. To be fair, I didn’t even realise my Mum drank and smoked until I was a teenager. She concealed it well. Probably because she was never around. I guess that helps. My Dad on the other hand, has never been so subtle. My memories of spending time with him growing up always involves him being drunk. He took me to Butlins, we spent our evenings with him propping up the bar. When he took me to Blackpool, I remember us walking along the promenade looking for a pub that was suitable for kids. Even when I would visit him and we’d just stay at his, every evening he was drinking. If he had a girlfriend, I’d be left with them, whilst he went to the pub. When you’re a kid, you just assume that everyone’s parents are like this. It’s only as you get older you realise that this is not the norm. Seeing my Dad in the state he was in on Christmas Eve, just brought back all of the memories and anger I felt growing up. I will NOT have my children subjected to it. I just won’t.

I tried to redeem the day, but failed. I think the mood had gone too far south by this point, so we all resigned ourselves to giving up and going to bed. After all, it would soon be Christmas. When I went to bed, I felt hopeless. Like I’m unable to do this on my own. I started to really miss my husband, because I felt that things wouldn’t be nearly so bad if he were here. I don’t think my Dad would have behaved in this way if he was, as he never does. He’s only ever like this when he’s away. I then became bitter and resentful of the fact my husband chooses to work away. Then I started to think that I’m probably the reason. All the drama that comes with me, he’d probably rather be in the middle of the North Sea for half the year. I know I would. Well, I think we can guess how this mood turned out. It just sank me into a dark hole, of not being good enough, my life being terrible, and my kids probably hating me. What a great way to finish the evening.

Monday 25th, Christmas Day! This should be a yaaay to start with, but it wasn’t. Let’s just say my Dad had me and my eldest up from 4am with his antics. My son and I curled up in my bed watching assassins creed trying to dose back off, but we couldn’t. Then my youngest was up at 6am, so we just had to get up. We both knew this was going to make for a long day, but we put smiles on anyway. We did think about wakening my Dad up for him to see the kids opening their presents, but it was thought he’d be better to sleep it all off. Plus, if I’m honest, I could see the man far enough.

Once in the living room, we began opening our presents. The kids cried, laughed and hugged me for the presents they got, so this fair improved the overall mood. I then got to open my presents, and once I got to this painting my daughter did for me, there wasn’t a dry eye in the room:


Receiving this couldn’t have been better timed. It showed me that my kids don’t hate me like I thought. We hugged, had some happy tears, and then we cleared up all the paper and got settled in the living room watching TV and playing games. By the time my Mum popped over for the yearly ritual of a bacon roll and a cuppa after work, the mood in the house was good. We were all laughing, joking and singing. I then asked my Mum to help me with the giblets in the turkey, as they give me the absolute fear, and you know what? I’d actually picked up a prepared turkey, with stuffing, bacon & no giblets! How’s that for a bit of good luck! I get some of you reading this will be like “Settle down, it’s only giblets”, but seriously, I was so close to getting the kids to play Rock, Paper, Scissors to see who was taking them out.

My Dad woke up mid-afternoon, but decided to stay in his room until early evening when food was being dished up. I assume he was embarrassed? Or at least I hope he was. If not, I can safely assume he was feeling awful given the state he had been in.

I am definitely not the best cook. My husband loves to tell the story of the time I managed to burn a frozen pizza, yet keep it frozen in the centre. He tells that story like it’s a bad thing. I, however, see it as a talent! I’m sure that not many people could replicate it. When it came to cooking Christmas dinner, as with every year it’s up to me, I panic that it’s going to be awful. Well, this year? It was awesome. The turkey was perfect, nothing was burnt, everything was ready in time. There was enough food to feed half the street, so we’ve had plenty left overs for other meals. Everyone said they thoroughly enjoyed the meal, and all plates were cleaned. Even my youngest asked for more.

We sat around the table, pulling crackers, telling our awful jokes, laughing and just have a really good time. One of my daughters took it upon themselves to act out all of the charades, and this proved to be the most amusement our family had seen in a long time.

In spite of all the bad stuff, Christmas day for me was far better than expected. It has shown me that I have raised some of the best kids. They are amazing, loving, thoughtful, caring, funny and just all round good kids. They have absolutely made this Christmas what it is, and they have managed to turn my dark thoughts and feelings right around and bring me back to feeling happy and content. This is the PMA I’m taking away from this whole experience. I may not have the best parents, and I may not be the best myself, but I’ve clearly done something right.

I hope you all had a Merry Christmas. Thank you for the kind messages I’ve received, and I wish you all the best for the New Year.

Enough of never being enough!

I am my own biggest critic. I’m sure I speak for nearly everyone when I say; nothing I do is good enough. I will always say that I could have done more. I will scrutinise my work/life, and strive for better.  Another thing I’m bad for, is beating myself up for how I am with others. I always scrutinise my social interactions and relationships. Wondering if what I said was offensive, doubting how people see me, not knowing how to deal with people, for fear of just getting it all wrong.

Well, let’s just say I’ve had an epiphany this week. You see, I am very much someone that has a black and white attitude toward people, as in; I either care about you, or I don’t. So, if you’re someone I respect/like, I would like to think you respect/like me back. If you didn’t, this would hurt me, because I like to think I’m a pretty nice person, so would assume it’s my actions that have made you not like me, thus leading me to over scrutinise our every interaction. However, if I don’t like/respect you, then what you think of me is neither here nor there. Does that make sense? I will not lose sleep over someone, I don’t care about. This even goes for work colleagues. I may not consider work colleagues to be friends, but if I like them and I respect them, I would be upset to think it wasn’t mutual. I am also a very firm believer that respect is earned, not commanded. People who insist on talking at people, rather than to them, really annoy me. I do not respond well to these people, and they definitely fall into the black.

I spend a lot of my life doing my best to appease those I like, for fear that my actions will cause them to dislike me somehow. Just another one of my stupid, time consuming, irrational fears. I will scrutinise our every interaction, sometimes even during the interaction, and I will beat myself up for things said, or even things that were unsaid. It’s exhausting. I will even look to message people, or talk to people after the fact and apologise, or say the things I think I should have said. Most of the time I get a rather meh response, because they genuinely didn’t notice, nor care. I often know this will be the response I’m met with, but I have to say something. Otherwise my brain will just continue to race about the situation, and it will drive me around the bend.

Lately I’ve had someone I class as a friend, just completely use me. The shit thing here is, I let them. I could see they were only out for their own selfish gain, and you know what, I let them do it anyway. I was so worried that I would lose them, I just let them treat me how they wanted. They are the kind of friend that is only ever interested in hearing from you when they’ve literally sod all else to do, or they want something. You know the ones? Completely selfish beyond all reason. They think nothing of you dropping what you’re doing to appease them, but would they so much as make a smidgen of effort for you? Would they hell. We all know someone like this. Now why, if I’m aware of how they are, have I even let them in close enough to use me? Well, after much thought (try a weekend of no sleep), I’ve come to the conclusion, that I like to jump through hoops for those that don’t care. I seem to have this deep seeded need to be enough for those, who will NEVER see me as enough. I work harder for these types of people. I do more. I need to be more. I need for them to like me. I need to be there for them, whenever they beckon. It’s sad, and it’s highly pathetic.

I may have had a little frustrated cry to myself on Friday. It wasn’t through being sad, it was 100% anger. The anger comes from me knowing this is completely my fault. I never listen to my inner rational voice, or those around me who see things for what they are. I always try to see good in people, when really the good is not there. I read a quote once, “You can’t stick a flower in an asshole and call it a vase”. I don’t know who said it, but it’s bloody good right? So true in this instance.

Not being good enough for my own standards, is tough going, but knowing that I’m not good enough for people I like/respect, definitely affects me more. I’m not letting toxic people affect me anymore. I am a good person, and I should be investing my time in the good people in my life. This ‘friend’, will definitely miss me before I miss them. I am so far removed from letting people use me. So, what is the positive here? I am reaffirming with myself that I am a good person, and I deserve to be treated with respect. From now on, I will not settle for any less. People will only treat you, how you allow yourself to be treated. Fact. From now on, I will not stand for being made a mug of, or being used. There is enough going on in my day-to-day life, without adding some Dawson Creek teenage drama to it. I’m sad/angry that someone has made me feel this way, but, also happy/relieved that I now see it for what it is, and can move forward.

If you have read this and think it may ring true for you, just get rid of the so-called ‘friend’. Cut them out, and if/when they ever try to weasel their way back in because they have nothing else doing, or they want something, take great pleasure in ignoring them. I would like to think this ‘friend’ is not stupid enough to attempt the latter with me, as they’ve been told directly to bore off. Although, I think I have to admit I clearly don’t know them that well, so you never know right? If/when they do, the pleasure of walking away will be all mine.

Steps in the right direction

If I was to describe the last 18 months as anything, other than the obvious word ‘sh!t’, I’d definitely say it’s been a wakeup call.

As someone who has high functioning anxiety, amongst some other issues, I have liked to pride myself on how I cope. I have my PMA (Positive Mental Attitude) towards almost everything I do, of which helps me greatly, and I have my little quirks/ocds that get me through. Despite having these coping mechanisms, this last bout of heightened anxiety has lasted a long time and has shown me I clearly am not coping as well as I like to think.

I have written many blogs over the last few weeks, many of which I’ve just deleted. Why? Well, mainly because I’ve found them to be a bit ranty, and once it was off my chest I didn’t feel it worth sharing. I’d only have depressed every one of my readers, with my constant negativity. My blog is called ‘PMA Corner’, it’s supposed to be a place where people of similar situations can come, read about my journey, and leave with a positive message. I certainly do not intend for readers to leave feeling worse than when they came.

As most of you know, my life can be described as being like a really badly written EastEnders story line. I’ve been through things that people shouldn’t have to, I’ve seen things people shouldn’t have to, and I’ve done things I’m definitely not proud of. Now, I’ve got two choices; I can choose to be one of those people who wallow in self-pity and make excuses, or, I can woman up, and realise that good has come out of these bad situations. I much prefer the latter, but right now, that feels a little bit ‘easier said than done’. Until recent months, I have liked to think I’ve never been a ‘woe-is-me’ person. I’ve always been quite proud of the person I’ve become, I would have definitely described myself as a strong person, and one who just got up and got on. So, what changed in the last 18 months to make me doubt absolutely everything about myself? What is it that has made me dredge up old, hurtful memories and cause myself to be in a horrible heightened state of anxiety for a long period of time? In all honest, I don’t know. It could be a culmination of different things.

Little over 18 months ago, my Dad was diagnosed with Cancer. A little while after that my marriage started to breakdown and I separated from my husband. These two events were negative, and I didn’t see how my PMA could stop me worrying, or how it could benefit me in either of these situations. The day my Dad told me he had cancer, I just remember feeling so powerless to help. He lived so far away at the time, and between work/kids I had no spare time to spend taking care of him. He lived alone and I couldn’t be there. It was just horrible. I would worry about him all the time. He would tell me not to worry, as the hospital were taking care of him, who put him in touch with McMillan who were going to help etc. This didn’t stop me worrying and it didn’t stop the guilt of feeling like I should have been doing more. Looking back, I think I put myself into a negative place, with my worrying and putting myself down for something that really couldn’t be helped. Separating from my husband was hard, but I don’t regret it. It was what we needed at the time. I know he didn’t see it that way, but I couldn’t go on with the constant bickering over nothing. I had so much bigger things to worry about, that the pointless things we argued about just felt completely menial and I needed it to just stop. I needed quiet.

During all of this I found solace in work. My boss at the time was nothing short of amazing and understanding. He just let me get my headphones on, and plod on with my work. Some days were better than others, and some were really low. I did actually break down in tears at my desk one day, after speaking to my Dad, as he was at home, no way of getting out and about and I couldn’t do anything. I also had the prospect of going home, alone, with no-one to talk to or comfort me. Yes, this was my own doing, by separating with my husband, but it didn’t make it any easier knowing that little fact. For the first time in a very long time, I just wanted a hug and someone to tell me that everything was going to be OK and that I was doing all I could. This was when my best friend stepped in, and was nothing short of my rock. He watched me go through this manic rollercoaster of sobbing, to hysterical laughter. He listened to my incoherent ramblings, erratic thoughts, and the best bit? He just listened. No feedback, no ‘this is what I think you should do’, just listening was all I needed. I know that what I say doesn’t make sense 99% of the time, but sometimes I just need to say it. I need the words to be out in the ether, to lessen the stress I put on myself when they whirl around in my brain like cyclone of anarchy. Sometimes my thoughts get so loud, that even turning my music up as high as I can, cannot drown them out. It can feel like I’m suffocating any trace of positive under a dark blanket of depressed and angry thoughts, and I see no way to break the cycle. It’s like being a spectator in your own mind. You see it happening. You know it’s wrong & irrational, but you’re powerless to do anything to stop it. You must stand there, on the side-lines, watching it all unfold, waiting for the aftermath that you need to live in and deal with. Keeping all of it bottled up in side is tough going. Every day I get up, paint a smile on my face and I go out into the world as if everything is A-OK. I laugh and joke with those around me, I engage with people, when in reality, I’d rather not. If I didn’t make the effort socially though, I’d only worry that people would think I was rude and judge me, so I make myself most of the time.

In recent weeks, things have gone from pretty meh, to very sh!t very quickly. This is all due to my anxiety, and the stupid, irrational thoughts I have, of which lead to impulsive and reckless behaviour. Recently I made a decision, whereby I thought I was doing a good and honest thing. Well, this good/honest deed, only caused upset to all involved. In hindsight, I look back and I shake my head at myself. What on earth was I thinking? How did I possibly conceive that this was going to be a good deed? Or that it was going to end well? This has well and truly been the icing on the cake. I have had to admit to myself; I am not coping. Fact. I cannot do this by myself. I can feel myself, every day, becoming more and more emotional. I am not even finding solace in work anymore. I’m loathed to find/see the positives in anything. I feel so out of control with my own life and emotions, that it scares me. I scare me. How can I be this out of control. This is my life, my mind, I should have full control. Is this the problem? Is it my need to be in complete control of everything, to feel safe?

I realised last year that I wasn’t coping. I told myself that I was just being ‘pathetic’ and ‘weak’. I convinced myself to just woman up and get on. I’ve been trying to put paper stitches over a wound that is too big, and wonder why it keeps opening. I am sad. There, I said it. I’m sad, I’m scared, I feel alone, I cry most days and I don’t know why. I just want it to stop. I just want to be happy. Around a week or so ago, I got up and realised that doing this by myself just wasn’t cutting it. I called my G.P, made an appointment and I’m happy to say I’ve been referred to Psychology. I declined the offer of medication, as I explained that I’ve been on pretty much every single anxiety/depression medication out there, and they all make me a little foggy. With the job I do, I cannot afford to be foggy. The waiting list to be seen is about 6 months, of which I believe to be the national average for the U.K right now. Hearing this did make me a little sad, but, I’ve been like this for 18 months or so. I’m sure I can make it through another 6 months. I’m also not naive enough to believe that going to these appointments will be a magic wand, or they will be easy. It will be a long road, of hard work and change on my part. It’s a challenge I need and that I’m willing to take to feel better.

I am realising that there is no shame in saying I’m not coping. There is no shame in admitting I don’t have my sh!t together and I need help. If you have read this and can identify, then please be sure and get some help. We don’t have to struggle on our own, there is help out there. If you’re unsure about going to your G.P, that’s ok, it takes time/courage to do that. I had to build mine up over a year. If going to the doctors is not something that is right for you just now, then please talk to someone. Talk to a friend, family member, or even someone at Samaritans. Getting your thoughts out really can help. I would also suggest writing things down. Start a blog like me, or even just keep a diary of things that go on in your day, or even just write down some of your thoughts. You’d be surprised how therapeutic it can be.

The positives of this situation for me is the fact I’m taking my first steps toward help. It was by no means a small step, and it is definitely the right step towards better understanding what is wrong and how to feel better. I will document my journey when I start my sessions, keep you all posted on how things go, and hopefully it will help some of you too.

Thank you for reading guys, and thank you all for the messages and kind words. It really does mean a lot.

It’s so unfair

Children are stressful, but Teenagers are whole other ballgame..

To all the fellow parents out there, I’m sure you’ve all heard from your parents “I hope your child ends up half as bad as you were”. I know I have, many times. Well, did my parents get what they wanted or what? In the last 5 years, I’ve put up with so many things from my kids that I question my ability as a parent daily.

So far, my children have managed to have police at my house, more than once, social workers and I’ve nearly gone toe-to-toe with several Mum’s. I will do anything for my children, absolutely anything, to keep them safe, but this is all getting completely ridiculous now. When will it end? When will they realise that their behaviour is completely unacceptable? When they have their own kids and hear my words of “I hope your children are half as bad as you were” echo through their minds? I sincerely hope it doesn’t take that long.

I consider myself to be a strict parent. Things are very black & white in my house, as in, it’s either acceptable or it’s not. I don’t believe in having things be acceptable sometimes and not others, as this gives mixed messages. When I was growing up, I was blessed with a parent who personally did not give a flying hoot what I did, so long as it didn’t affect them in any way. If it did, however, that was a different story and usually resulted in me being thrown out. I swore, that my children would always know where they stand. Now, whilst I say I’m strict, I would also like to think I’m fair. Nothing I do or say should be a shock, as I will say things like “If you’re late home, I will take however long you’ve been late off you for tomorrow night”, or “I’m sick of the dishes either being left, or not being done correctly, so if it happens again, you’ll not be going out tomorrow”. I outline expectations and consequences quite clearly, yet, they still do as they damn well please. Not a single fuck is given in this house. This being said, they would describe as scary because I’m a shouter. Well, clearly, I’m not that scary, if I’m having to shout about the same old things, day in, day out, and they still do as they please.

All teenagers go through a rebellious stage, I know this. I of all people really do know this, but c’mon? 3 teenagers at once? All of them going through a Kevin, fuck you, I’m an adult, I know what the meaning of life is, bore off, phase. Can I just get a break? Completely exasperated over here.

I work full time, and when I’m not working I’m cleaning and spending time with the kids. They think the fact I ask them to do the dishes (we have a dishwasher, just thought I’d add that in), and clean their own bathroom, I’m being ‘unfair’. Then when I go to the cupboard to get something, I will spend the next 5 minutes essentially pulling the contents of it out, to wash it by hand, their excuse is “it’s the dishwashers fault, not mine, I did what I was told”. Shit you not. That is the excuse. Then there is their bathroom. A room you use to become clean, and I fear I’ll get hepatitis from just standing in it. Their excuse then? “Well they didn’t do it when it was their turn, so I didn’t do my turn”. What the actual…? What can you even say to that?  I don’t feel that I ask a lot of them, I just ask that they help me out. I don’t see why I should have to spend my days off cleaning, to then have to go back to work, so they can be lazy. How is that fair?

Totally at my wits end over here. Would be great to hear from other parents, to know If you have issues with your teenagers. What kind of discipline do you use? Do you feel it’s unfair to ask teenagers to do chores around the house? Do you think I give mine too much/little?


Reactions to mental illness

There are a few different reactions to expect when you tell someone about your mental illness, most of them I personally could live without. I have put these in order of what I feel is the most common reactions I face.

  1. Apathetic – I put this to the top of the list, as I find this to be the most common response. Most people I speak to, have no real comprehension. They presume my stories to be just that, ‘stories’, fiction, exaggerated, me being a hypochondriac, looking for attention etc. These people usually like to constantly compare what you’re going through, to their situations, to how they deal with them, or how they believe you should be dealing with them. They also find a way to make your issues appear menial, and yes to them they might be, but to us? Far from.
  2. Patronising – Usually coupled in with the same people above; They will like to talk to you as if you have no real understanding of what is happening to you, often trying to educate you on mental health, and the things you need to do to feel better i.e. “Well, have you ever thought about going to the doctor?”, “Maybe walking or something will make you feel better?”, “Just don’t think about it!”, “Just stop doing it, you know you’re your own worst enemy”, are just a few examples of actual things I’ve heard this past week alone.
  3. Empathetic – Now whilst a lot of my readers don’t have a mental illness themselves, they tell me they have family and friends who do, and that my blog helps. I’m told that they understand what I’m going through, as they witness it in those close to them. Then there are those of you who are like me, and message to say, “I could have written that myself”. It is these messages that make my blog feel worthwhile.
  4. Debater – Some people like to message/comment to debate with me, regarding my own thoughts and feelings. Say what now? Yup, you read right. You cannot tell someone they are not feeling how they’re feeling, or that they’re thoughts/opinions on a topic regarding their mental health is wrong. Everyone’s experience with depression and anxiety is not going to be the exact same, and neither will the road to feeling better. What works for one, will not necessarily work for all. This does not make my views wrong, it makes them different.
  5. Exasperated – Most people close to me are just sick of it all now. You can see it in their face, or hear it in their voice; they just want it to be over now. They’re bored hearing the same stuff from me all the time. I find I say the same things a lot, it’s like being on a really shitty merry-go-round. Just when I think I’m getting over something, it comes right back around. It is no more exasperating for you, than it is me. Believe me!


Doing this blog has allowed me to write about things, I don’t feel I can approach those closest to me with. That is not to say I don’t try, I do, it’s just they don’t understand. Some of them try to understand, but all they end up doing is imparting their wisdom of how to make it all go away and missing the point entirely. I’m not telling you what is wrong with me, so you can play doctor and make it all better. I’m telling you because I need to vent aloud. I need to get what’s in my head out into the ether and try to make sense of it all. Most of the time I’m not looking for any feedback, I’m just looking for a nod, or a friendly smile to assure me that I’m not totally crazy.  Unless you have an anxiety disorder, how could you possibly know what it’s like to live inside my head? You can’t know, and I don’t expect you to.

Recently I’ve divulged a helluva lot about myself. Some of my most personal memories, thoughts and struggles. I have done this for two reasons; The first reason is to vent, and the second reason, was that I hoped others would identify with me and I wouldn’t feel alone. I’m happy to say, I’ve had a great response to my blog. A lot of you who read this, message me to say you do in fact identify, or that you empathise with my situation. These messages really do help me to see that I’m not alone, and that people to get what it is that I’m trying to say, or know what I’m struggling with.

Now, this whole blog could be seen as attention seeking, and I guess in a way it is, but not in the way it can be implied. I do not put statuses on social media prompting PM’s of sympathy. I don’t want, need, nor care for anyone’s sympathy. Ever. Don’t ever pity me or feel bad for me.  A lot of people I know have no idea that I write this blog, or that I have a mental illness at all. I’ve only ever told those immediately close to me, and at that, I don’t tell them everything. Having this blog has allowed me to feel that I can divulge, without feeling too exposed. Every one of these I write makes me apprehensive, as I don’t know how it will be received, but if/when I receive a message from someone who gets it, or gets me, that makes me feel better. I think I speak for most people who suffer with a mental illness when I say; It’s the knowing you’re not alone that gets you through. You would never wish how you feel on anyone, but, it brings comfort to know you’re not in it alone.

As someone who suffers with G.A.D and on/off depression, I don’t want your pity, I just want an ear to bend occasionally. Sometimes just getting out what I’m thinking takes away a lot of the stress I’m causing myself. What I definitely don’t need is your curt comments, or essentially being told to ‘woman up’.

I recently wrote a ‘bare all’ blog about my past relationship. This was a very difficult blog to write, it took me days of debating about it, then I started it a few times, just to delete it, until I finally committed to 6hrs worth of writing. A lot of the blog was removed, and I left only the poignant parts. The response I got from this was overwhelming, and I would just like to say thank you to those of you who took the time to message me. It honestly meant a lot. I carry a lot of baggage from that relationship, and it does hinder me. I wrote that blog thinking if I vented, it would help, and I guess it did a little. My husband read it, and felt it was a good piece. He already knew all of it, especially the early years stuff as he was there, so none of this was a shock to him. I like that he gets it, that he knows what I’ve been through, as I feel it helps him to understand how I am.  Although, I know he gets more than a little exasperated with me at times.

When in Tesco the other night, I bumped into my ex partner’s brother. I was being told how my ex will be coming back home soon, how he’ll want to see me blah blah blah. Needless to say, this sent my anxiety into overdrive. My vision went blurry, my throat felt like it was closing up. My youngest actually took my hand and said “Mum you’re starting to panic, remember to breath, you’ll be ok”. He’s 9! I abandoned the rest of my shopping, and got back to the car. I felt fit to burst with emotion, as I was now scared, panicking, but had my son in the back of the car who was now really worried about me, and then I had to think about driving. I just took a moment to breath, and got home sharp. I needed to speak to someone, I needed to calm down, so I phoned a family member. Guess what the response was? An exasperated, patronising, apathetic one! I don’t even know why I let it upset me, or why I got angry with the response, as it’s always the same. They will compare what I went through, to what they have, and essentially tell me I need to get over it. I was then told that the threats I’ve received over the years, and what I worry about is just nonsense, but then in the same breath, was told that if it was going to happen, there was, and I quote, “no point worrying about the inevitable”. I mean really? Does this person know me at all? All I do is worry, and they think telling me not to is some form of magic wand?

I have worried and stressed myself out of late to the point of a massive breakout on my face, I’m not sleeping, my moods are erratic and I’m very emotional. I have then made the mistake of talking to the wrong people about how I’m feeling, and that has just made me feel worse. For those of you that know me; I do not need you to tell me to woman up, or that my over thinking is the root cause to how I am, or that I need to just get over things. I’m not a stupid woman. I know what is wrong, I also know what would fix it, but if it was that simple, and I could just get over it, I wouldn’t have G.A.D. An actual mental illness that causes anxieties for just about anything, as well as obsessive/compulsive thinking/habits. For just once, can you please just listen, without judgement, without a Dr. Phil response and without sounding like you’re bored? I don’t need to feel like I’m a burden, and you know what? see if I am, then please just tell me that my issues are not something you wish to talk about. I’d sooner just not talk to you at all, than leave the conversation feeling worse than when It started.

For the most part, people I have in my life are great. I’m very lucky to have the friends and support I do. Unfortunately, it’s the select few, the ones who I feel should be the most understanding and want to be there, that are not. All I can say is this; I hope that they never find themselves like me, having conversations telling them it’s all in their head and they need to get over it. Thankfully though, they’d have me for support, so they would actually be quite lucky.

If you’re friends with someone, or a family member to someone, suffering from anxiety/depression, I hope you are not guilty of the examples above. They don’t need you to have an answer to everything, and they don’t want you to fix them. Just listen. That’s it. Just listen and be there. Even if you’ve heard the story, or been in the same situation for the one hundredth time, and you’re getting bored of it, take a moment to think how it is for them. And yes, they probably should break the cycle, but do you think telling them in a matter of fact way will help? No. Most definitely not. If you see an unhealthy cycle happening, help them break it, don’t just tell them to. If they could do it themselves, trust me, they would have. We don’t choose to be this way, contrary to what some narrow-minded people think. We don’t sit at home and think, “oooh, I’ve not been anxious for a while, let’s give it a bash today”.

To those of you like me, dealing with reactions as mentioned, you’re not alone. Try not to let them upset you or make you feel worse. Even if you feel like no-one else in the world gets it, you know what? I do! I may just be one person, but it definitely means you’re not alone.

PMA Corner – 10 Illustrations that nicely sum up Anxiety!

Sometimes it’s difficult to put into words how the merry-go-round of  Anxiety & Depression can make you feel, so here are a few illustrations I’ve had shared and seen in recent years that I’ve found more than relatable, and even amusing. If you don’t laugh, you cry right?

We all have that one friend who thinks they just know…..

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Ahhh mornings, a time to reflect on the day ahead

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For days when you just feel scared and you don’t know why. Lets face it, they’re the worst! 

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Usually bedtime is a good time to reflect

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OMG my ultimate favourite pass time. Thinking about all the silly things I’ve done, ever! 

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For the days when you just can’t. We’ve all been there, when we’ve had plans with friends and we find any bull excuse to cancel. You want to be social, you want to have friends, but you don’t want to have to leave the house, be seen or have to talk to people. 

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Ahhh Calvin and Hobbs, a comic I read as a kid and loved. It does have a poignant message though. We spend all day every day worrying about what is going to happen, when really, all the planning in the world may not predict/change the destination. Will this stop my overthinking/worrying? Most definitely not…

You can all relate to this one. I will only ever take painkillers if I’m at a point where I cannot cope. The fact I take a multivitamin every day is huge, but for the first 3 hours of taking it I worry that I will keel over. Why specifically 3 hours I hear you say? I reckon if it was going to kill me, 3 hours is a good guestimate. Is that rational? Well, you’re reading a blog of a woman with an anxiety disorder, nothing here is rational.Yes, it’s as sad to type as it is to think, but also very very true. 

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And finally, never feeling good enough. I’m fat, I’m ugly, I’m stupid, I’m not interesting, no-one will like me, or want to be with me/be my friend and those that are around me only pity me. Ahhh good times Anxiety, good times…

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Alcohol is never the answer

My Dad once told me, “This is not a dress rehearsal, this is it! Make the most of it”. I was a teenager at the time, I felt I was infallible, and these words meant nothing to me. I’m now in my 30’s and these words mean everything to me. We only get one life, one chance to actually live, and I spend most of it over analysing the little things, and missing the big things because of it. When I was at my worst, and fearing that everything in this world was going to kill me, my Dad (again, a very wise man), told me this “Look darling, there is only one guarantee in life ‘no-one is getting out alive’”. That very statement shook me to my core, he was so right. No matter what I do, I’m going to die. Now, whilst this was said to be a little reality check and make me feel better, it did the opposite. This statement made me very fearful, that was until recently.

I am still very fearful of things, and sometimes I get worried that today will be my last. In fact, I dare to say that every single day of my life, I have at least one thought of that day being my last. It’s quite a depressing thought, but it’s true. I understand fully that we’re not guaranteed tomorrow, no-one is. I struggle to see my life in 10/20 years’ time, as I’m convinced my time is numbered. Having this feeling of impending doom, is probably one of the worst feelings I get from anxiety. All the other feelings I can just about manage, but this one, is different. My fear of crowds and being claustrophobic is something that can be avoided, but death? I can’t avoid that, it’s coming, and it scares me more than anything else in this world. I’m sure anyone reading this, anxiety disorder or not, can agree. Death is not a happy prospect and it will scare anyone, but to ‘normal’ people, they don’t think/dwell on it quite like we do.

Due to my fear of dying, and my social issues, I was living a very sheltered life for a long time. I was avoiding social situations, being very introvert, and in turn, not really living. I turned to alcohol to help me through. Now, I’m not saying I was an alcoholic, definitely not, but if I had a night out coming up, I would be sure and be half way gone before I left the house. I needed that Dutch courage to be able to get through it. I would then drink to forget, and when I was drunk it was great. I would be the life and soul, outgoing, ‘happy’, able to enjoy myself, no cares, no fear of dying, that was until the next day. Hang overs when you have anxiety, are nothing short of dire. It can bring on all the fears. You have heard of beer fear, right? Well this is beer fear magnified!  I also started to have my weekly bottle of wine at the weekend, as this was sure to let me have a full night’s sleep. It wasn’t a rested sleep though, it never is when you drink, but I’d convinced myself it was helping.

During my ‘mid 20’s crises’, when I was back at college, I was out drinking at least 3 times a week with my college friends. I felt I was doing great, I was out all the time, I had friends, I was ‘enjoying life’. Looking back now though, I wasn’t really. I was masking my fears with alcohol, and it wasn’t helping, even if it felt like it was at the time. All I was doing was masking the problem, and in turn, making it worse in the long run.

When I was at my Sister-in-laws wedding a couple of years ago, I drank a lot. I was really nervous about going, as I knew very little people there. I knew it was going to be busy, loud and no doubt something I couldn’t cope with. What did I do? Yup, I sought out to get drunk. I drank a large wine, to every one of my husband’s pints. I think over the course of 5 hours, I’d had 10 large glasses of wine, of which I think works out to be 3 – 4 bottles. Needless to say, I went home, and I was very very ill. It was at this point I realised I wasn’t coping, and things needed to change.

There are people close to me who drink a lot, pretty much every night. I could see that I wasn’t far from them, and did I really want to end up like them? Did I want to become reliant on something like alcohol to get me through a week? It was at the point where I was using a Friday as an excuse to ‘celebrate’, so would buy wine on my way home from work. Even typing that, it just sounds so ridiculous. I don’t want to be that person, I don’t want to rely on anything but myself to get through these difficult situations, and I certainly don’t want to end up like those close me either.

Since my sister-in-laws wedding, I have never really looked at alcohol the same. I barely drink at all now. I’ve even been called boring, and been told I’ve changed, by some of my friends. I’m ok with this, I’m glad to be boring and to have changed. I don’t go out as much socially anymore, this is a choice I’ve made, as I don’t want to feel like I must drink to get me through the night. I can, and have, been out for a little bit, where I’ve had maybe one or two drinks that I’ve nursed over the evening. It’s enough to make me feel like I’m being social when in a pub, but little enough for me to feel completely in control and to avoid the beer fear the next day.

Do you drink to forget? Have you been guilty of using alcohol or other substances to help you with your mental illness? I found an interesting article about the effects of alcohol on your moods and mental health that I think would be of benefit to some, it will help you see that whilst it may feel like it’s helping you in the moment, you’re actually doing more harm than good in the long run.

If you have a story similar to mine, would be good to hear from you and how you have dealt/dealing with it.


What I took from “13 Reasons Why”

Why write this blog?

I have been writing this blog on and off now for 3 weeks. I keep writing it, then deleting it, then contemplating it, as I worry that I’ll be revealing too much about myself. For those of you who know me in person, I don’t want to be judged, but at the same time, I cannot just pick and choose the parts of mental illness that are deemed PC enough to share. Mental illness is not glamourous and it comes in all shapes and sizes. What I share on this blog, is my experiences, and how it’s shaped me into the woman I am today. I spoke with my husband about writing this and even he thought it was a bit much. So, we spoke about why suicide is a topic that makes people gasp, why shouldn’t it be discussed more openly? Is it because it might upset people it has affected? Is it because it is a complete overshare? Or is it because people just don’t want to talk about it, as it makes them uncomfortable? Perhaps all of the above. So, I was faced with the question “To write, or not to write?”, well as you may have guessed, I chose to write. I do hope that this doesn’t cause those of you who know me to think any less of me, or those of you who have been personally affected by suicide to be offended, this is sincerely not my intention.

Have you watched “13 Reasons Why”?

If you haven’t finished watching “13 Reasons Why”, then don’t read any further, there will be spoilers. If you have no intention of watching it, then this may mean nothing to you, or it may mean something if you’ve been affected by suicide. The story “13 Reasons Why” is about a girl called Hannah, who commits suicide. Each episode relates to a tape and a situation that lead her to want to end her life. These tapes, 13 of them, were given to each person who had hurt her in some way, and the point was they listen to them all and pass them on. The TV show picks up when Clay gets his turn to listen to the tapes. You get to see it from Clay’s perspective, of having lost a close friend to suicide, and having the revelation of why it happened. At times the show was quite dry, and you find yourself willing Clay to just hurry up already, then other points leave you upset/angry on Hannah’s behalf, and finally you’re left heartbroken despite knowing how it was all going to end.

Teen suicides in America are on the up, which is what inspired the book to become a show on Netflix, in the hope to hit home with the youth of today. Looking up the statistics for the UK, with regards to suicides, I found the following:

  • Deaths from suicide in the UK rose slightly from 6,122 deaths in 2014 to 6,188 deaths in 2015 with a subsequent increase in the rate from 10.8 to 10.9 deaths per 100,000 population.
  • UK male suicide rate decreases whilst female rate increases to its highest rate in a decade.
  • England and Scotland saw decreases in the total number of suicides, whilst Wales and Northern Ireland saw increases.
  • Of the English regions, Yorkshire and The Humber had the highest suicide rate at 11.6 deaths per 100,000 population and the East of England had the lowest at 9.3 deaths per 100,000.
  • Across all broad age groups, the rate for males was around 3 times higher than females.
  • The most common method of suicide amongst males and females in the UK in 2015 was hanging.
  • In 2015, the suicide rate in the UK rose slightly to 10.9 deaths per 100,000 population, up from 10.8 in 2014 (see Figure 1). This was made up of a decrease in the male suicide rate from 16.8 to 16.6 deaths per 100,000 population and an increase in the female rate from 5.2 to 5.4 deaths per 100,000, the highest female suicide rate since 2005.
  • Of the total number of suicides (6,188 deaths) registered in the UK in 2015, three-quarters (75%) were males and one-quarter (25%) were females.

Now whilst the above shows that the figures in the UK have decreased, that is still a frightening number to look at. The overall figure from 2015 is essentially showing us that 6,188 people in this country felt that their life was not worth living. Why is it that some people come to a point in their lives where they just feel that dying is the best option, yet we have others that don’t even view it as an option? What is the difference between us all? It’s a tough one to answer, and I’m not even sure there is a conclusive way to answer it.

The time I had enough

When I was 17 my life was nothing short of dire. Without boring you, and getting into too much detail, let’s just say my life had gone down a dark path and I saw no way to be free. I was young, living with a waste of space, my friends were wasters, I was a waster, I was estranged from my family, I had no education, and essentially no hope. I genuinely saw my life as being over any way, it was just a matter of time before I bought my ticket out, so why not just buy it early. I woke up one morning, to my usual hell and I just couldn’t do it anymore. I hated my life and I hated this person that I had become. I literally saw no light at the end of the tunnel, I saw no way for this horrible cycle to end. I waited until my partner left the house and I went to our medicine cupboard, I took 3 months’ worth of the pill (yup you read right), some paracetamol and some ibuprofen. Pretty much all I could find, I didn’t know the pill wasn’t deadly in high doses, I was young and assumed that everything was. I took them all in quick succession and crawled back into bed to sleep, willing myself to never wake up. A couple of hours later my partner came home and woke me up, I was gutted. How could this be? I’d taken a lot of pills and here I am, awake. As I sat up, I felt dizzy and sick, so I ran for the toilet. My partner saw the empty boxes in the bin, and called my Mum who took me to A&E. When I got to the hospital I was given a lovely cardboard bed pan to be sick in. I couldn’t stop being sick, it was horrible.  Nurses checked on me regularly, until a doctor came to see me, who explained that whilst what I had done had been very silly, it wasn’t deadly and would just leave me feeling very ill for a few days. I was embarrassed and devastated, because I meant it. I didn’t want to be here anymore, I’d had enough, but here I was just lying in a hospital bed, feeling like a complete joke and wrenching up my inners. A while later a psychiatrist came to speak with me, who asked me all sorts of questions about my life, but really his big question that he was dancing around was “why?”, not as simple a question as you might think. You cannot sum up your reasons to simply be “My life is crap”. I didn’t contemplate suicide for a while, it was just on that morning. Something in me just said enough was enough. I was young, alone, and saw no way out, until I thought about ending it. This felt like the only way to stop the rollercoaster that had become my life. In hindsight, I know this is just not true, there is always a way out, and I cannot be more happy and relieved that this didn’t work. I’m also happy to say that I accepted the hospital’s help, and spoke with a counsellor who was a great help. It was someone, completely  unbiased, to listen and support me.

It was not long after this that I fell pregnant with my eldest, and needless to say, my family were concerned for me having a baby. They didn’t feel that I could do it, that I wouldn’t be up to being a Mum, given I couldn’t even look after myself. They were totally right. I was a complete and utter waste of space. Something had to change. From the minute, I saw that first baby scan, I knew I wanted to be his Mum. I dropped all of my ‘friends’ like hot coals, I quit my reckless lifestyle and I got my life in order. I wasn’t perfect by any means. I was young, naive and learning as I went, but I did it. In my family, my son is known as my ‘little life saver’, and that isn’t for nothing. Had I not had him, I’m not sure I’d be here today. Not due to suicide, but more so due to lifestyle. Now I’m not suggesting that all young people out there with troubles should go and have kids, oh no no no! What I’m saying here is this is my story, and this is what straightened me out, and got my life on track. Was it easy? Definitely not. Becoming a Mum is by far the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I was having to grow up, mature, learn to be a responsible adult, and all whilst looking after a baby. There were days where I would just cry whilst having my coffee, believing I wasn’t up to this and that my family were right. Having my son wasn’t a magic wand that just made the world a rosy place, but it was something significant that happened that gave me the wake up call I needed. Being a Mum gave me purpose, a reason to care about myself and my wellbeing, and a reason to strive to be better.

Mixed Feelings about “13 Reasons Why”

So now you know my story, you can appreciate why I found watching “13 Reasons Why” difficult. As someone who had contemplated suicide, I could identify with Hannah in some respects, but not in others. Hannah had loving, doting parents for one. She also had Clay, I mean c’mon people? She essentially had a best friend and potential boyfriend who doted on her. Hannah was pretty, smart, and could have had so much to look forward to. I found aspects of her story to be infuriating, as my life was a complete train wreck before I considered anything like this. It also caused me to think of all the people out there that have it so much worse, and they don’t consider suicide to be an option. The whole handing out tapes to everyone also felt a tad excessive. I hated that Clay’s final tape had “I wanted you to come after me…” (I’m sure I’m not the only one), and the final scene when her mum found her just broke my heart. I personally felt that Hannah had a lot to live for, and whilst bad things happened to her, she definitely had parents who would have supported her and a good friend who would have seen her through it. But that is the point, really isn’t it? As an outsider looking in, things do appear to be much rosier than they are. For the person living it, it’s a completely different outlook.  Everyone in the world deals with situations differently, we all have our different coping mechanisms and limits, so who am I to judge?

I have to remember; this is only a story, it wasn’t real. The story was told to highlight how easily you can wear someone down. How easy it is to contribute to someone feeling worthless. For teens of today that is so important, as they have no way to switch off. At least when I was a teen, when I got home from school, that was that. I could leave all the drama at School and switch off. Now when my kids come home, they tap into their social media window, where the drama just continues. It’s constant. Their generation have it harder than mine ever did, and I do not envy them at all.  As a parent, I’m very much aware of the social pressures my children face, and it worries me. How do you protect them from bullying and being overly exposed in a world where there is nowhere to hide? Do I take away their laptops, consoles and smart phones? No. Why? Well because that opens up a whole new set of issues where they’re now different from their peers, and let’s face it, kids don’t like different. I choose to talk to my kids about everything and anything, so they know they always have someone they can lean on. No topic is taboo, and I will be open and honest about everything. I do this so that they don’t have any curiosities about things, but mostly so they know they always have someone to listen.  Whether they choose to tell me things is entirely different, as I’m sure they do keep some things from me, but I hope they know they can.


Well what a wall of text this is huh? It’s not exactly a short/simple topic and I have taken a helluva lot out (believe it or not).

I can empathise with Hannah, and how hard those situations would be on anyone. However, I also felt sad and angry from her Mum’s perspective, as Hannah never let her in. She never told her, and her Mum was left believing she was OK until the final scene, and that was probably one of the hardest things I’ve ever watched. No parent wants to lose their child, ever, but when it’s to suicide that must be so difficult to come to terms with. The level of guilt that they must feel, I would imagine to be huge.

For me, the message of “13 Reasons Why” is to highlight that our actions affect people, and that we all (not just teens) need to be more mindful of this. Then there is the fact that suicide affects everyone around you. You may be getting an ‘out’, but your friends/family are left dealing with what has been left behind. They are left missing you, feeling the guilt of thinking it’s their fault, and is it ever really something someone gets over? I’m not so sure it is.

Suicide may feel like an option, but it’s not your only option. There is always a way out of a bad situation, and if like Hannah, you have bad things happen to you out with your control, there are always people out there to help you through it. Whether it’s friends/family, or professional help, there is always someone.

If you have been affected by suicide, or have thought about it, then you can contact the Samaritans for free and remain completely anonymous. They don’t need to know who you are, they’re just there to be a friendly ear, to provide help and advice.




Keeping up with the Joneses is not helping!

Keeping up with the joneses! We are all guilty of it. We see other people ‘succeeding’ and we feel inadequate. Facebook is one of the worst for making us feel this way. People only ever share what they want you to see, it’s so incredibly fake, we know this, yet we buy into it.

I got myself quite upset one night; I was sitting with a glass of wine, scrolling through my news feed and I see posts like:

“I just came home to no kids, hubby has booked us into a hotel for the weekend. Totally made up. #BestHusbandEver #SoLucky #LoveHimLots #MyLifeIsAmazingAndYoursSucks”

“My Child is only two but can recite the alphabet backwards, whilst playing the piano, and standing on their head. #BestKidsEver #MyKidsAreBetterThanYours #ImABetterMumThanAllOfYou”

“OMG I’ve lived on air for 3 weeks, and been to the gym daily, I’m like so skinny. Please look at my 10000000001 gym selfies. If you’re in doubt which ones they are, I’m in lycra, and look completely self indulgent. #ImSkinnyYoureFat #ImFitAndYoureLazy #ILookAmazingInLycra #YoudLookLikeABurstSausage”

“Another promotion at work. I just come in, do nothing, and ta-da, better job title and more money. Oh and look at the new car I bought myself. Holiday next. #ImSoSuccessful #YoureTotallyLame #RollingInMoney #YoureSkint”

Ok ,Ok, these may be ever so slightly exaggerated, but this is how I read my news feed. So what did I do? Yup, you guessed it! I over thought it, and I compared my life with others. I sat and thought things like

“My husband doesn’t do that for me? Why? Where is my trip away for the weekend? Pffft, I don’t even get taken for a meal, let alone taken away”

“why don’t my kids join all of these clubs? Why do their kids seem to have more friends? Why do their kids seem to be more adjusted than mine?”

“I eat too much and I’m lazy. I need to work out. I’ll never look as good as them Lycra. Is this what the gym bunnies look like? Do I want to subject myself to in person comparisons? Hell no!”

“Wait! Have they not just been on holiday? I could swear they were. Oh that was last year. Hmmm, when did we last have a holiday? Oh right, 3 years ago. Fantastic”

And so, it begins, the vicious cycle of me thinking the whole world has it better than me, based on a few selective glimpses into people’s lives on social media. It’s madness.  Last year was a particularly tough year for me, in many ways, but doing this to myself on Facebook was making it a helluva lot worse. I would sit, feeling very low, on my phone just scrolling and scrolling, becoming even lower with every upbeat ‘my life is amazing’ post.

We are all guilty of showing the side to ourselves we want people to see on social media. It’s like a sort of ‘social media etiquette’, like our regular social etiquette; When I say “Hey, how are you?” I don’t expect to hear “Well, you know, my cat died. I lost my job. I think I may have a UTI, as well as gout…or maybe it’s a fungal nail infection…dunno…you wanna see?”. No. Just no. I want to hear “Yeah good thanks, you?”. We don’t actually ask “Hey, how are you?” to sit and have a Dr.Phil session, we do it because of social etiquette. The same logic applies to Facebook; We put up filtered pictures of ourselves, ones where we’ve done our hair, makeup, got the right lighting, tilted the camera at the right angle and probably taken 101 attempts to the get the one we deem as ok to post. Once it’s uploaded we eagerly await the likes for recognition that our efforts have not gone unnoticed. Then there is our Bio, this is usually something cheesy about how amazing our life is. Finally, it’s our daily posts; We don’t want to post that our cat has died and we have fungal nail infection, why? Well because it’s gross and deeply unnecessary for one. So, what we do instead is we wait for funny little anecdotes or something good to happen, and we exaggerate. We all do it, every single one of us, just some are better at it than others. Some people spend their entire existence giving off the pretence of a perfect existence on social media to get all of the likes, so they can feel validated. Have I been guilty of being this way? More than likely, although, this doesn’t stop it from frustrating me.

By the end of my wine and reading my news feed, I felt inadequate. I felt incredibly down for such a long time, continually asking myself all these questions of “Why am I not good enough? Why don’t I have what everyone else seems to have?”. Everything in my life appeared to be crap and I saw no way of me being able to make it any better. Hello depression and anxiety, it had been a while since I’d felt this low. I cried pretty much every day, just feeling so useless, and like I would never measure up. Well you know what? No more!

I don’t own my own house, it’s rented. My car is nearly 10 years old and has a broken parking sensor (don’t ask!), so it beeps continuously when in reverse. The only radio station I can get in my car clearly is Classical, of which makes me really thankful for my AUX port, that I plug my phone into and sit on the passenger seat as my phone holder broke.  I’m not skinny, or particularly healthy and I have post teen acne. My kids are far from perfect, drive me insane and fight most days. My husband isn’t the brightest bulb in the box, and will need prompting to do nice/thoughtful things. My family are like something out of a comedy, only, it’s not terribly funny when you live through the drama’s, but definitely makes for funny stories to tell later down the line. I live in a house where I feel that the washing basket will never be empty, no matter how many loads I put on. What do my kids do? Graze clothing in search for an outfit and chuck it to the wash?? I have no idea. Then there is the fact my kids are all completely fussy, no two kids like the same thing. What are the chances? 4 kids and they’re so incredibly different, so finding things to eat and do is a nightmare. Everyone in the house bickers and fights over the most pointless things continuously, I often feel like just getting the car, and driving. No destination in mind and no plan on coming back, just driving. I live in a permanent state of exhaustion and there is always something else to be done. The house is never fully clean, the kids are never fully happy, and somewhere in between I fit in a full-time job.

All this being said; What I do have is a roof over my head, my home is lovely, it’s big enough for this big crazy family. We’re dry and warm and want for nothing we need. My children may drive me nuts, but they are my reason to get up every day, they make me laugh more than they make me cry. My husband may not be the brightest bulb in the box, but he makes effort in the ways he knows how and he loves me. I have a fantastic job, that I wouldn’t change for anything. My friends are nothing short of amazing, and if you’re reading this, thank you for being there for me though my whirlwind year, I would not have done it without you.

My end goal is to be free of ‘social media envy’, once and for all. I believe that cutting down my time on Facebook will help, but getting rid of it altogether may be best. I need to keep reinforcing the good that is in my life and not comparing myself everyone else. I may not have the best, and yes there are many things I don’t have that would be nice to have, but I’m sure there will be someone out there that has less than even me and would like to be where I am. I need to not be envious of these social media post, but open minded to the fact it will be embellished, and if it’s not? Then I can be happy for them, not jealous.

I’m pretty sure that everyone will suffer from ‘social media envy’, but when you’re already someone who’s prone to depression and/or anxiety, of which already leaves you feeling inadequate, this can have a huge impact. Moral of the blog? Make a list of all the positives you have, however small, and be thankful for them. Don’t compare yourself to those fake, glammed up, posts on Facebook, nobody’s lives are perfect.



Anxious, or Anxiety Disorder? Sad, or Depressed?

I swithered with regards to writing this blog. I have sat and worried about offending people, or in case it contradicts my blog ‘You don’t look anxious to me’, but I’ve come to realise that it’s important that people know the difference between depression and just being a bit down, and having an anxiety disorder and just being a little bit anxious.


Let’s start with anxiety; This is something we all have and deal with probably every day. Everyone in the world has their anxious moments, so what is the difference between feeling a bit anxious and having an anxiety disorder? Well, to put it in the simplest way; one is mild and one is intense. But, wait, how do we know the difference? How do we know that what we’re feeling is the mild version of anxiety or the intense? I think we first need to understand what anxiety is.

Anxiety is an emotional response to the anticipation of something bad happening, so really, it’s the prerequisite to fear. There is a very fine line between anxiety and fear, which is why both feelings can have similar responses i.e. sweating, feeling nauseous, and quickened heart rate. The feeling of being anxious is what gives us a surge of adrenaline in preparation for the ‘fight or flight’ response, in a bid to help us if the bad scenario we’re anticipating happens. During a bout of feeling anxious you will feel a little scared, but when dealing with an anxious situation when you have an anxiety disorder, you feel intense fear, like something catastrophic is going to happen and you have no control to help yourself.

Some situations that will spike anxious feelings in anyone:

  • Driving test – Everyone in the world is nervous for this. It is one of the most nerve wracking things we will ever do, and it can cause us to be sleepless the night before, give us a dry mouth, even tremble slightly behind the wheel.
  • Operations – Whether it be for ourselves or a loved one. This type of scenario will definitely spike our anxious feelings.
  • Exams – We all want to do well and succeed, so being in an exam can cause us to doubt our abilities, and worry that our best will not be good enough.
  • Children – Our Children make us anxious every day. From the minute they are born we worry if they cry too much, don’t cry enough, eat too much, don’t eat enough, temperature spikes, temperature drops etc. Then as they get older we worry about them going out to play, will they make friends, will other kids be horrible to them, are they happy, how well will they do in school etc. It’s a constant worry for a parent.
  • Work projects – We will all have some sort of task in work that makes us anxious, one that means we’re striving to excel but worry we won’t.
  • Flying – Now this won’t affect everyone, but it does affect most. Again, perfectly normal response to the fact you’re sitting in a metal flying object, couple that with the fact humans were never meant to fly! Totally normal to be apprehensive here.

Some situation that will spike intense feelings of anxiety, associated with an anxiety disorder:

  • Health – “My left hand is slightly colder than my right. Blood flow must be being supressed somewhere. Could it be I’m having a stroke?”, “I’ve had acid indigestion for a while now, could it be an ulcer? Perhaps even stomach cancer?”, “This headache won’t go away, I think I have a blood clot on the brain”, “My right leg has gone numb and feels funny, I think I’ve got DVT”, “I’m sure my heart just skipped a beat then, it felt kinda funny. What if I have heart disease?”. These thoughts will not stop there, they will spiral out of control, to the point where you cannot contain how you’re feeling.
  • Socially – “They’re looking at me. Do they hate how I look? Is what I’m wearing silly? Is my hair sticking up? Is it the way I’m walking? They think I’m ugly.”, “The way they said ‘hello’ was weird. Was it grudged? They don’t like me. What have I done? Did the conversation we have the other day upset them? What could I have said to make them hate me?”, “They didn’t smile as they walked passed. Why? Did they not see me smiling? Maybe I didn’t smile. They will think I’m rude now. Or maybe they did see me smile, but don’t like me so didn’t smile back? Why don’t they like me?”, “I sent that text to them over an hour ago, why haven’t they text back? Have I upset them? Do they not like me?”. You can see the definite pattern here.
  • OCD’s – “That glass looks dirty, I can’t drink from that, what if I get ill?” You will then proceed to wash the glass and then rinse it 3 times for good measure. When you go to bed at night, you check the doors are locked, but then you get up to check again as you doubt you did it right the first time. In fact, you may even repeat the process a few more times, just to be sure, as you don’t want someone coming in and killing you in your sleep. Washing your hands twice, as you need to be sure that all the germs are gone, because you don’t want to die! You will also overly wash your hands as you’re too scared of the surfaces you’ve touched, that others have touched, as hey, you might die.
  • Overthinking & not feeling good enough – “They didn’t seem very happy with me today, I don’t think what I did was good enough. Maybe I could have tried harder? Perhaps I should have done it another way? What if it’s me they just don’t like and whatever I do isn’t good enough? Or maybe it’s just that I’m no good, I’m not up to it?” These thoughts can spiral out of control and have you debating 101 different scenarios of how you could have done things.
  • Insomnia – Because we’re thinking about thinking, then overthinking the thinking about thinking, we tend not to sleep much. Our minds are racing all the time and there are just not enough hours in the day for the level of over analysing that we do.

As you can see we have a rational sense of anxiousness in the first list, where everyone in the world may experience these feelings from time to time. When it’s mild, it’s something that someone can bounce back from easily and something that they will not dwell on or over analyse. Someone with an anxiety disorder, will also be anxious about these things, but they will let it tear them up inside, they will not just bounce back from it, and they will over analyse every situation. Usually to the point where they feel crippling fear and end up sweating, trembling, feeling sick, or actually being sick, getting short of breath, unable to focus, becoming depersonalised, and it may well lead onto a full-blown panic attack. We then have the second list to contend with, one where it’s completely not rational, yet we will let it consume us every single day, again to the point of feeling fear, and this can completely inhibit us from leading what is deemed a ‘normal’ life. We can look perfectly normal on the outside, but on the inside, we’re screaming. You can read more about ‘High functioning anxiety’ in my recent blog, where I explain more about what it is to try and live a ‘normal’ life, whilst contending with the above.


There are a lot of people out there that will throw around the statement “I’m feeling depressed”, without actually understanding what it means to be depressed. The feeling of being depressed, is a feeling of intense sadness, loneliness and hopelessness. You feel like you’re in the worst possible position in your life, and it will never change. You are incapable of seeing the positives in your life, or the light at the end of the tunnel.

Everyone in life has days or periods where they feel sad, down, and even like they can’t be bothered, but this is not depression. This is just a normal response to things in life not going as you hoped or planned. Perhaps you didn’t get the job you wanted, you’ve recently broken up with someone you love, you’ve had big changes in your life out with your control, these are all things that we get sad about. Whilst you feel sad in these situations, you’re still able to enjoy your life and see a light at the end of the tunnel. You know and understand that these feelings won’t last forever and over time, you will get over it.

Depression is like the feeling of sadness magnified. You are not just sad, you are beside yourself with grief. You lose all sense of what is positive in life, you don’t look forward to anything, you cannot have ‘fun’, you lose motivation to do anything for yourself, often losing the want/ability to take good care of yourself, you don’t care for your own well being, tired all the time, sleeping too much, you don’t get excited about things, watching movies that you used to love is just dull now. It is literally like someone has just sucked all the happiness and colour from your life. All you are left with is a bleak, grey, cold and loveless world, that you inhabit all by yourself and that no-one else understands. You may be depressed if you have the following:

  • Intense sadness
  • Frustrated and irritable mood all the time. Complete lack of tolerance of others.
  • Significant changes in weight – either weight loss due to being unable to eat, or weight gain through comfort eating.
  • Decrease/no interest in activities you may have been interested in before i.e. playing sports, watching movies, hanging out with friends etc.
  • Complete tasks at a slow pace – Due to lack of motivation, tasks that would usually be done quickly, will now take you some time.
  • Feeling tired and low on energy – You just feel like you’re in a permanent state of exhaustion, despite how much or how little sleep you get.
  • Unable to focus – You are so overwhelmed by how you’re feeling you can find it difficult to concentrate on the task in hand.
  • Feeling worthless – You never feel good enough. You have every possible negative thought about yourself and the more you think it, the more you reinforce it.
  • Suicide – You can feel so low, to the point of wanting to not be here. You cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel (and there is one, there is always one!), that you believe ending your own life is the only way to be free.

Now this list is not a conclusive list and should not be used for self-diagnosis. I’m not a doctor or a psychiatrist, I am just someone who has suffered with both Generalised Anxiety Disorder and Depression for 10+ years. The lists I have given above are from my own personal experience. I am in a position now where I don’t need medication and I am able to manage my mental illness much better than just a few years ago, however, this doesn’t mean I don’t struggle most days to appear ‘normal’. If you believe that you may be able to relate to more than a few of my examples, then I implore you to seek advice from you G.P, If you read my blog ‘My story of when Anxiety took hold’ you will see that seeking help was the best thing I ever did.


There are many helpful links online these days, here are just a few I have sourced. Again, please do not take these as conclusive, you are always better to seek professional help & advice.

NHS Depression Self-Assessment

NHS – Check your mood – Anxiety/depression assessment

NHS – Do I have an anxiety disorder

NHS – Generalised Anxiety Disorder

NHS – Suicide awareness & help

Samaritans – Someone to talk to when you’re feeling Anxious/depressed/suicidal


Remember who’s watching

No one is born with a sense of fear, it is a learned behaviour. Babies and toddlers are fearless little creatures, that often have us with our hearts in our throats. For all you parents out there reading this, you can totally relate to times where your child had climbed onto something and attempted to jump off with no concept of the height they were jumping from, or the possibility of hurting themselves. Or the fact that every toddler likes to play with bugs. What is that even about? My daughter once ate a spider. True story. She was about 8 months old, crawled into the kitchen, and ate a spider off the floor. Needless to say, I let her father change her nappy for the next two days. I still get goose-bumps and shiver when I think of it.  My Dad often likes to tell the story of when I would play with bugs in the garden as a toddler. Supposedly, one day when he came home from work, I was sitting on the wall outside our house squishing red spiders for fun, with my finger. That can’t be true surely? If so, where did my fear of spiders come from? If you ask my Dad, he’ll say it is my Mum, as she is someone who would have screamed irrationally if one was around and would get someone to kill it. So, did I learn to be fearful of spiders due to witnessing my parent have a meltdown when they were around? Sounds plausible.

Now I’m a parent I’m aware that I could be passing on my issues onto my children. They are incredibly impressionable and whether they like to admit it or not, I’m exceptionally cool and they totally want to be just like me. This just goes without saying really. My daughters, Rachel & Rebecca, and I are close, and we do a lot together, meaning they spend a lot of time around me and hiding my quirks/ticks/OCD’s isn’t always easy.  I’ve come to notice in the past couple of years that they had developed some issues of their own. Rebecca was starting to develop a bit of a stutter, cries at the drop of a hat, and was incredibly nervous in social situations. Rachel is incredibly socially awkward, doesn’t like people, has hygiene issues and little OCD’s. I could see that my issues were transpiring with them, and this is not the life I want them to have. I don’t want them to worry about every little thing and spend their life over analysing and being sad. All parents want the best for their Children, and ending up like me, even just a fraction of me, is not an option here.

Rebecca was showing signs of a stutter when she was worried about something. She worries incisively about not being good enough or failing, or worse, being wrong! To the point where she would stutter when trying to explain something, then cry. The amount of conversations we’ve had where I never actually hear the end due to sobs, is a lot. I could see that she was lacking in confidence, and I hated seeing her this way. To me, and yes, I may be slightly biased here, she is one of the most beautiful, thoughtful, caring, funny, talented girls in the world, and the fact she couldn’t see this was upsetting. Rachel had started to become very introverted, lost a lot of friends, started sleeping a lot, developed my OCD for hygiene etc. it was like looking at mini-me and I’ve hated it. She too is such a beautiful, loving, very funny, talented girl, who genuinely cannot see how fantastic she really is. Why can’t they just be like their peers, and their only concerns be with their Facebook profile picture and how many likes it’s gotten? Well, the reason for this is me. They have spent so much time with me, that they’ve picked up on my bad anxious habits.

Noticing these traits was hard, as I knew it had to be my fault. So how do I change them? How do I make them see how great they are and that the world is not that scary a place, when I don’t even have this faith in myself or the world? I spend every day telling them how great they are, I praise their small successes as if they’re a toddler who’s just used the potty for the first time, I tell them every day I love them and how lucky I am to have them. I tell them things I wish people would say to me, the things I’d like to believe in myself.

Assuring them constantly that things are ok, and will be ok, just isn’t enough. I see that they doubt me, and they will continue to be anxious. So, what now? Well, I now make them do things they say scare them, or that they’re not keen on doing. For example, Rachel hated going into shops, as she hated the crowds, queues and speaking to strangers, for fear of something happening or looking stupid. I started making her go to the shops with me every time I went, and I would make her talk to the cashier. I would always prep her with what to say, and I believe having me there made it easier. That’s not to say that she didn’t hate me for it, or leave the cashier with tears in her eyes because to her this was incredibly daunting. Now though? Well, she chooses to go to the shops with me all the time, and she now speaks to strangers with ease. This is a success. Rebecca will often get upset at small things e.g. She once got an email where the person had gotten her name wrong, she opened it, then worried it might have had a virus, so came down the stairs in a bit of state. Rebecca had believed that her laptop was now going to break, and realising I wouldn’t have money to fix it or get her another one, thought that I would have been angry/upset and now was besides herself. Thankfully it was just a case of an incorrect name, there was no virus, and the laptop is still going strong. Seeing her so upset, over something so small, was hard. I had to sit her down and explain that even if it was a virus, it wasn’t a big deal. It is fixable. And again, even if it wasn’t fixable, it’s not worth getting so upset over. Even as I wrote that sentence, I realise that is just the height of cheek. Here I am explaining to my daughter that there are things to get upset about, and things to not be caring about, yet I cannot do this for myself. Rebecca can now see the funny side of this, and we will often bring it up and laugh about it. I feel that is very important, to be able to see the funny side of these situations, as it helps to lighten the mood and in turn it doesn’t feel quite so serious.

I’m very open with all my children, about everything and anything. If my children ask me a question about sex, drugs, life etc. I will answer it as openly and honestly as possible. I don’t believe in lying to them, as this will only peak their curiosity and in turn they will make bad decisions. This is me talking from experience; When I was younger I learned about sex in the playground, so, as you can imagine it was incredibly helpful and accurate to the facts. My Mum didn’t even discuss a woman’s menstrual cycle, so imagine my horror when I got mine at the young age of 11 and thought I was dying. Just as well I had one of my close friends with me, who had started hers not long before and was able to help me out. I was shocked, embarrassed and upset. There are many other examples where my parents didn’t help or prepare me for life, so I’ve made the conscious decision to always be open and honest with my kids. I don’t want them to be sheltered or unprepared, and in turn I believe this has helped them to be the amazingly wise and mature kids they are. I have people who disagree with how open I am with them, as they believe ‘kids should just be kids’, but in this day and age, where they have the internet and a lot of misinformation, I believe it’s more important than ever to have these awkward discussions. I also feel it makes them more comfortable to be able to speak to me about anything. I have also been very open with my older children with regards to my mental illness. I need them to understand that I have these little quirks, and explain why. This helps them to better understand that how I am, is not ‘normal’, and these ticks/quirks/OCD’s are definitely not normal. We have discussed Anxiety/Depression, the symptoms, the differences between having Depression and just being sad, then the difference between being anxious and having a disorder. I believe this is extremely important, as I don’t want them thinking because they’re sad, they’re depressed, or because they’ve had a flutter in their stomach they’ve got an anxiety disorder.

Managing how my daughters are, and trying to help them be happier and more settled, is teaching me a lot about myself. A lot of what I tell them, is something I could be doing for me. Also, a lot of what I make them do, like making Rachel go into shops, has pushed me to do things I don’t like, as I know she is watching me for guidance and I need to help her learn by example. They still have their issues and their little quirks, but I’ve noticed a lot of improvement in recent months. Both Rachel and Rebecca are becoming more outgoing, they appear happier, and they don’t seem to worry quite as much. I have many days where I feel like I just can’t deal with the day, or where I just want to stay in bed and let life pass me by, but I can’t do that. I can’t let my kids see me quit, or not even try, as what kind of example is that?  We still have some way to go, but who knows, in my bid to help them be happier, I might just help myself.



High Functioning Anxiety?

Naturally since starting this blog I have worried about what people will think. I’ve had thoughts like “Is this the right thing? Am I exposing too much of myself?”, “Will people think I’m just attention seeking”, “Am I boring them?”, “Do people even read it? Do they even care?”, “what if they read this, but think it’s a load of crap, as I’m up every day, at work, out socially etc. They’ll never believe what I have to say”. Again, with the negative thoughts. But I must remember why I’ve started this blog. I’ve done this for myself, to get out what I’m thinking/feeling, but also to help those around me and even strangers facing the same struggles. These worries are what has inspired tonight’s post, as I need people to understand that I do appear ok on the surface, but inside it’s a very different story.

In 2005 I was diagnosed with G.A.D (Generalised Anxiety Disorder). Meaning, I don’t just have one form of Anxiety, I have a bit of everything; I worry about absolutely everything from social situations, health, money, family, friends, work etc. Yes I know, everyone worries about these things, but for someone like me, It involves anticipating the worst, and overthinking the scenarios of how the worst can happen. This level of worrying and overthinking, is what rears the feeling of being scared and can induce a panic attack.  In the beginning, I found it overwhelming and I really struggled to cope. When you go from being ‘normal’, to essentially fearing life, it does take its toll. In the first few years of learning to cope, I was completely erratic and I had many more bad days than good. These days, it’s a different story. I can go weeks having good days, before I have an episode where my Anxiety can take over.

What is a good day, and what is a bad day? Well a good day to me is one where I’ve not let my Anxiety take over. It’s always there, in the pit of my stomach, like a dull ache, but on good days I can ignore it. I can let the feeling wash over me, and I will pull through and do what needs to be done. A bad day, is one where that feeling cannot be ignored, and I let it consume me until it’s grown bigger than I can handle. This doesn’t always result in a full-blown panic attack, these days it usually manifests as depersonalisation. You will find that over time, you find your own ways to manage your fears. You become accustom to what can set you off and you can choose to avoid it completely, or, find a way to get you through it. I wouldn’t recommend avoiding your fears forever, as you will only isolate yourself, making you feel worse. I would say that you should understand what your triggers are, and work towards better managing them. My way of coping is PMA, and in my blog about this I explain how I have to reinforce positive thoughts in my head, or completely distract my thoughts to get me through things that make me feel anxious.  I would love to sit here and say that I’ve mastered all my fears, I have not, but I have mastered most and like to think this attributes to me being able to get up each day, go to work, go shopping in supermarkets, and be there for my family.

I’m someone who is classed as having ‘High Functioning Anxiety;’. What is high functioning Anxiety? Well, it’s pretty much what it states; it’s someone who is high functioning, but still lives with the inner struggles of an Anxiety Disorder. If you have read my  blog, ‘You don’t look anxious to me!’, I do explain, that just because someone isn’t cowering in a corner shaking, doesn’t mean that they don’t have an Anxiety disorder.  Remember watching Tom & Jerry, when the Angel & Devil would appear on Tom’s shoulders? Having high functioning anxiety is a bit like that. Naturally the Devil is your Anxiety, and the Angel is your rational thoughts. It’s a constant battle between the two. I get negative thoughts, rationally I know it’s my anxiety, but this doesn’t always stop me from doubting myself or letting the feeling of being anxious overwhelm me. I’m pleased to say my rational thoughts triumph more these days, and I appear like I’m a ‘normal’ person.

Despite me appearing normal to those around me who don’t know any better, I do struggle with:

  • Never feeling good enough – Every single day of my life I feel like I’m a bad mother, bad wife, bad at my job, bad friend and just an all-round bad person. I worry about every little decision I make, how it will impact others, and will this cause the people I care about to hate me. If you are outwith my circle, I care about what you think, how you are, how my actions affect you, but, if you are in my circle (someone I care about), my feelings of not being good enough for you are magnified. I fear that I will be seen as a fraud, and that you will see the terrible person I am and leave me.
  • Rejection – Yes, I just love to be rejected! Said no-one ever. No-one likes it. Probably one of the worst feelings in the world. For someone like me though, this ties in with never feeling good enough. If we take the chance to put ourselves out there, exposing ourselves, only to be told we’re essentially not good enough, that hits us hard. I will doubt myself in every way. I will sit and scruitinise every single moment of our encounter, and tear myself up inside. A job interview for example? Wow. I will over play every possible outcome of this interview in my head, then when in the interview, I’m just a wreck. Looking at the interviewers faces thinking “Why are they not smiling? Oh, my god they hate me. I shouldn’t have worn this outfit, I don’t look smart enough…” These negative thoughts will go on. I will then leave the interview and over play the whole scenario again in my head, hating the answers I’ve given, beating myself up for missed opportunities to say something funny/positive. Queue a bout of panic, depersonalisation, and the need to go home and curl up in bed. That is exactly what happened after the last job I went for. Thankfully I got that job, but that didn’t stop me from being in bits until I got the call to say I had the job. I don’t think I slept or ate a full meal for a week.
  • Change – Small progressional changes I can just about cope with, as these I can prep, plan and make lists for. Big changes that are progressional, are a little more nerve wracking, but again manageable if I’m given time to prep, plan and make a list. Sudden change can set me off into a downward spiral. This is throwing me into the unknown, unprepared, and I will freak out. Sometimes I’ve done so publicly, others I’ve had a quiet eruption beneath the surface.
  • Being let down – I am someone who has had to learn to cope with things on my own. I pride myself on this and will never ask for help, unless it’s completely necessary. If someone has said they will be there for me, or help me, and let me down, I take this particularly hard. It sends my thought process down a negative path of wondering things like “Do they not care?”, “Am I not worth their time?”, “Is this because they hate me”, and before you know it I’m doubting my relationship with this person. Sounds dramatic, and it very much is, but it’s how my brain operates.
  • Stress – No-one likes feeling stressed. It’s hardly a pleasurable feeling. We all deal with it differently; there are those of us, that very rarely get stressed and when they do, they understand they need to slow down. Then there are those that find the smallest situations stressful, namely me, and do not cope well with high stress situations. I deal with high stress situations every day, that others may hear about and think “wow, you need to calm down”. Just a heads up, never tell someone who’s stressed to calm down, you’ll only turn the stress to anger. When things get too stressful for me, I need to take a deep breath, walk away, clear my thoughts, then come back to try again. Doing this allows me to look at the situation more objectively and assess things properly.
  • Health Concerns – I worry relentlessly about my health. All it takes is a chest pain (usually wind. Must be all the hot air), and I’m convinced I’m having a heart attack. A headache is a stroke/brain tumour. Sore stomach is an ulcer/stomach cancer. You can see the pattern here. I know this I not rational, but in the back of my mind I then worry that one day I’ll blame it on the anxiety and it will be real and I’ll die. That will be that. I will have ignored obvious signs of being unwell, put it down to being in my head and I’ll just die.

Ok so to anyone who has just read my list and is thinking, “Well, I can relate to all of that and I’m not anxious. We all don’t like these things”. You are totally right. The things I have mentioned are things that no-one in the world likes to have to deal with. My point here is; whilst no-one likes to feel stressed, be let down, go through change, be rejected, or never feel good enough. To someone like me, we cannot cope with these situations, as well as someone with a more rational mind. That is the difference.

How do I manage to be high functioning, when feeling anxious?

  • Planning – I like to plan, plan, plan! I swear the people close to me are driven around the bend with this. The unknown is a daunting place, and I like need to be prepared. If I’m ever in a situation where I do not have time to plan, my panic will start to surface. I do not cope well with not at least contemplating how things will work out. I need to have at least one scenario in my mind.
  • Lists – Once I have planned something, I will then list the tasks in hand. This is so that I know nothing will be missed, but also so I know I’m on the right track and can see my progress.
  • Distraction – I need to keep my mind busy all the time. One of the reasons I love my job, is the fact that I can completely submerge myself into work. When I’m working, I don’t have to think about the house, the kids, my partner, bills, family, health, friends etc. I get to just worry about the task in hand. I need my work to be able to cope, and even on what may be a bad day, I’ll chose to go to work, as I know staying at home would be worse, as it would give me more time to think. There have only been a few occasions where going to work wasn’t feasible, but this was because the physical symptoms were so bad, that I just would not have managed.
  • Space – I need space! Lots and lots of space. Me time is a must. I need to be in a room where I’m not expected to answer 101 questions, or even just have a conversation. I’ll often just crawl into bed and put on a movie/TV show, something I can get totally lost in, that allows me to completely detach for a couple of hours. I always find that my brain is racing at 100mph, but chilling with a good movie, allows my brain to switch off.
  • My Circle – My circle is small, and purposefully so. I need to surround myself with people who understand why I am the way I am, but also those who are a positive influence and who can keep my spirits up. These are also people who I trust implicitly and who I know would never let me down, reject me or make me feel like I wasn’t good enough.
  • Music – Everyone listens to music, whether it’s when you’re getting ready for work, in the car, when you’re cleaning, cooking etc. All of us listen to our music. I listen to music all the time, every opportunity. Why? Because it helps to calm my thoughts. If I put music on, then I tune into the rhythm or the lyrics and it helps to keep my negative thoughts at bay.


There is nothing to say that because you suffer Anxiety/Depression, you cannot be high functioning with it. For some people, they can’t, either due to still learning how to manage their disorder, or the fact they’ve got an acute form of Anxiety/Depression, that prevents them from being able. I have found a way to manage my anxiety to the point where I can do things like go to work, go out socially, and have a life that would appear to be ‘normal’, but this doesn’t mean I don’t find it hard. For those of you reading this that don’t suffer from mental health issues, I do hope that it’s given you some understanding of what it’s like for us. For those of you that can relate, or are just learning how to manage your Anxiety, I hope this helps you to see you’re not alone. If you have any of your own coping strategies you’d like to share with me, I’d be happy to hear them.

How Anxiety changed me for the better

When people look at pictures of me as a toddler, I get comments like “You were so cute”. I had long blond hair, big brown eyes, and cute smile, so what went wrong? As I grew up, I started to become awkward looking; my eyes just looked bug like, my nose became large and crooked, and my adult teeth came in squint. This lead to my rather perceptive peers pointing out my flaws relentlessly. My reactions to being called names could have been better, other than me lashing out and giving them more fuel for the fire. I was a child after all, and I didn’t exactly get the best of advice on how to deal with the bullies either. My mum would say “Walk away and smile, they hate that”, and my Dad would say “Kick them where it hurts”. Neither were supportive or helpful, just conflicting and left me wondering what I was supposed to do. I would try to stick up for myself, but these kids would often be in groups so I would feel too intimidated to do anything. When you are bullied it changes how you see yourself and how you trust/see others. For me, it gave me a huge chip on my shoulder and made me quite a bitter girl. I developed a terrible attitude and I took my moods and frustrations out on everyone around me.

At the age of 11, the bullying made me so miserable I was now going home and crying most nights and I began to dread School. Even my supposed friends were joining in. My Mum took me to the doctor to see what they could do, and I was referred for Rhinoplasty . Around a year later I was sent an appointment for the surgery. I was elated, this was going to fix all of my problems. The day after my surgery, I was allowed to get up and go to the toilet. Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I was quite taken back. I had a huge cast over my nose, which was taped over my cheeks and forehead. My eyes were all puffed out and were a horrible yellow/purple colour. I just hoped this was all going to be worth it. Two weeks later I had the cast removed, and I was gutted. I didn’t look that much different, and I felt the same. My first day back at school, a group of girls approached me and I kid you not, one of them said “Does this mean you’re like Cher now and can’t sit in the sun?” The silly mare clearly thought that plastic surgery meant you get plastic put into your face. The level of ‘what the %*@!?!’ cannot even be described. I didn’t even answer her and kept going. I generated a lot of interest from people after my surgery. Especially from people who never gave me the time of day before. You would think this would make me happy right? Wrong. This just really annoyed me. I’d had surgery on my nose, not a personality transplant. I was the same person. This only made the chip on my shoulder bigger, and my attitude worse. I now hated people and did not care one iota what they thought of me either.

I spent the rest of my teens and early 20’s with a ‘couldn’t care less’ attitude. My motto was very much “like me? Don’t like me? Don’t care”. I would just open my mouth, spew out words, and if you were offended? Tough. You just needed to man up. My sister actually wrote inside my birthday card for my 21st that she was unable to find tact as a gift, as this was a running joke that I was never blessed with any. I had no tolerance for anyone or anything. I didn’t like people, and I didn’t care if they didn’t like me. I had managed to build a pretty awesome wall around myself, which protected me from being hurt emotionally.

Then BANG, Anxiety/Depression struck. The floodgates opened and I became exposed and fragile. The slightest thing could be said and I’d break. I didn’t cope with this at all. My wall was gone and with it was the ability to deal with anything. All of these emotions were flooding in daily and I had no way to deal with them. I started to care about how I looked, what people thought of me, how I came across etc. I even cared about the things I said to people, perhaps even a too much. I was having conversations with people, then walking away, playing the scenario over in my head. Scrutinising every word that was said, their responses, their facial expressions, trying to figure out if they liked me or not. It was a very alien feeling for me and I hated it. No longer was I ‘me’ anymore, I had become a stranger to myself. I was now a scared and timid young girl, who was completely lost in her own mind.  I was getting my head around my diagnosis, but I was also having to discover these new aspects of myself, learn how to deal with them, but most of all learn to embrace them. I really struggled with this. I missed my old self. I wanted to not care. Sometimes, even now, I miss parts of the old me. She was feisty, fearless, and somewhat carefree. The old me would never have stood for this ‘Anxiety’ nonsense, she would have manned up and got on. So why couldn’t I just do that? Why couldn’t I just get over it?  I don’t have the answer I’m afraid. I honestly do not know why I couldn’t just ‘get over it’, all I do know is; if I could, I would.

I went to counselling for a few months and I found this really helped me manage my emotional state. I was able to understand where these emotions were coming from and how to better handle them. My counsellor helped me come to terms with my mental illness, the fact I was now different, and the fact the old me wasn’t coming back. Thanks to my counsellor helping me do this,  I have completely reshaped who I am as a person, my thoughts, beliefs, outlook on life, perspectives, wants, needs and more. I also discovered how to be empathetic, thoughtful and just generally care about others. Sometimes I’m guilty of caring too much now, of which I can find overwhelming. I guess you can say I’m still learning how to manage my emotions, and it’s not always easy.

I spent my 20’s discovering the new me, my friend and I call this period of my life, my ‘mid 20’s crisis’, as not all of my discoveries were positive. I have tried in vain to build that wall back up, to try and protect myself as much as I can from being hurt, but it will never be what it was. To protect myself now, I keep my circle small. I don’t let people in, as doing so will only increase my chances of being let down/hurt. This isn’t to say I’ve not made the heinous mistake of letting my guard down from time to time, however, this has only ever assured me of why I like to keep it up. I make sure the people in my circle are open and honest, you know, ‘a spades a spade’ kind of people. I don’t like second guessing what people mean, or trying to read between the lines, just tell me how it is.  I’m already going to replay every single social encounter I have when I try to sleep at night, so being around people I know I can trust and who tell it like it is, means I’m not having to do this half as much.

In spite of everything, I actually have to thank Anxiety/Depression, for the woman I am today. Without it, I wouldn’t have made all of these self-discoveries and changes. I am a long way from the feisty, fierce, and somewhat carefree girl, but I’m also a long way from being content and happy with who I am. Who knows, I may never be fully content. All I do know is; I’m not everyone’s cup of tea, just as everyone is not mine, but I’m confident that I’m a good person, and that, for now, is enough for me.