I love it when...

I love it when you coo at me; we have such great conversations!

I don’t like it when I can’t relax and just enjoy being your mum.

I love it when you’re excited at having ‘no nappy time’; wow those legs can move!

I don’t like it when I feel overwhelmed at the thought of raising you.

I love it when your eyes follow me around the room.

I don’t like it when your eyes are full of tears and I can’t work out why.

I love it when you smile at my silly faces and noises.

I don’t like it when there’s only me around to entertain you.

I love it when I discover another way to make you smile.

I don’t like it when the days seem relentless.

I love it when I’m bathing you and you gaze in wonderment at your hands and feet.

I don’t like it when your body spasms with a tummy ache.

I love it when you raise a leg and a trump comes out!

I don’t like it when the smell of that trump hits my nose! 

I love it when you laugh in your sleep.

I don’t like it though when you cry in your sleep.

I love it when we’re all in our beds and sleeping peacefully.

I don’t like it when you fight against the sleep I can tell you need.

I love it, I don’t like it.

Motherhood.

Vlogging it

My first attempt at a Vlog - that's a video blog don't ya know!

Not sure it's what I was aiming for, or if it's any good but I have to start somewhere.

Time To Talk 2016

So I'm a day late, but better late than never. Yesterday, Thursday 4th February was 'Time to Talk Day', an campaign led by two of the UK's leading mental health charities. Mind and Rethink Mental Health are using this campaign to fight the stigma that's still attached to mental health. By talking about our emotions, our minds and our feelings, we open ourselves up to others. Yes, some might consider this as making one 'vulnerable' but in my experience, it makes you feel less alone. You learn that there are plenty of people out there who have their own black dog to take to obedience classes!

Me and the Mumsie x

The other evening, I spent some time reading over my old blog posts. If you’ve read them, you might remember that I started writing them almost a year ago when I was in the middle of a battle with the black 'shaggy-haired dog. The blog posts gave me a lot of comfort and actually, I felt the power of the depression and anxiety I was experiencing lessen as I was honest with myself.

I wrote for myself mainly, but also for others as I think it's important to raise awareness of something that's still not talked about enough.

In previous months, I have often thought ‘I should write a blog post about that’ but I never got round to it. I was flying high and had discovered useful ways of keeping Gary the Gremlin firmly in his place. But I knew, and still know, that my mental health is something that I have to be aware of all the time. I don’t mean that I let it define me, but it is a part of me and, in the same way that diabetics manage their condition, I have to learn how to keep my brain and emotions in tip-top condition, and know what steps I need to take to help myself, when I get a case of the ‘wobbles’. Believe me, it's an ongoing job!

So what’s changed? Why have I got off my backside and written this?

My anxiety is sky-high at the moment and I thought this might be a good release for it. I am managing things well, and have taken some remedial steps to try and support myself through this turbulent time. Firstly, I am staying at my ‘care home’ for a while…yes, with my ever-wonderful Mum and Dad, who I can’t actually think about too much at the moment because the strength of their love and support is quite over-whelming! Silly huh?! But whoever said mental wellbeing was straightforward?!

My therapist Louise and I

Secondly, I brought forward my next appointment with my therapist. I have been seeing her regularly for about a year and while I generally see her less frequently now, she is a wonderful sounding board and helps me really focus on the rational stuff. Her support has taught me that, when my brain is spiralling out of control, to take a deep breath and really concentrate on the logical stuff…the stuff that has a firmer foundation, more truth behind it perhaps. And I am trying to do this, but at the moment, I’d like a bit more support.

Thirdly, when colleagues (who I see everyday) ask me how I am, I don’t say ‘oh I’m fine thank you’. No, I tell them honestly that I am feeling rather anxious about something in my personal life at the moment.  Two of my senior colleagues know that I experience ‘the wobbles’. In all seriousness, they do know how poor my mental health has been in the past and they have been lovely.

Very few people know what the ‘thing’ in my personal life is that’s causing me to feel this way. That’s how it will stay for a while yet. Rest assured, I’m not ill or in any form of trouble, in fact my logical brain is staying ‘for goodness sake Anna, this is bloody fantastic!’ My illogical brain however is focussing on the ‘what ifs’. Hardly helpful, thank you very much brain.

Lastly, I wanted to put fingers to keyboard again to write this and actually, having re-read my previous posts, I am actually quite a good writer. I think I’m honest, open and throw humour in when I can! I have been told I can be quite modest too...!

Keep talking people.

Axx

Let's go fly a kite...

So, it's been a while. Some of you may have realised the frequency of my posts has dwindled as my health has improved. Yes folks, I'm a hell of a lot better than I was a mere four months ago...thanks goodness. My life has changed quite a lot but definitely for the better.

At Easter, when I wasn't in a good place mentally at all, my wonderful niece and nephew, Hannah and William, were over in Bexhill (along with my wonderful sister and brother-in-law (don't want them to feel left out!)) and my parents suggested we go and fly kites on the beach. We wrapped up warm and headed out.

My mum, it appeared, had somehow amassed quite a collection of kites! Hannah and William seemed content to leap around the beach attempting to fly a couple of them, gamely assisted by Nana, Gaga (Grandad...but Gaga was said and it stuck!) and Louise and Justin.

Feeling withdrawn as I was at the time, with smiling being incredibly difficult to do, I took out the last remaining kite and started unwinding the string. Fortunately no leaping around was necessary to fly this one or I would probably have given up. No...it went straight up and I took a seat on a convenient groyne and gradually let the string out.

While chaos was going on with the other members of my family (and yes Dad even got his hankerchief out to try and weight the tail of one kite in a bid to help it fly), I clearly remember sitting there letting the string of my kite out, watching it veer about, feeling the wind tug at it and feeling the wind buffet me. I felt calm and peaceful.

Cut to last week, when I was doing my weekly shop in Aldi. One of the 'special buys' available were kites and, remembering the peace I felt while flying a kite at Easter, I bought one (a multi-coloured trapezium kite I'll have you know!) and this evening, after dinner, with the wind perfect 'kite flying' wind, I met my parents down on the seafront for an obligatory ice cream (snickers flavour for me) and then a kite flying session.

The inaugural flight of my kite went without a hitch. Dad, having used his old scouting skills, tied the handle and string to the kite, and had to step sharply out of the way as the kite was eager to get going.   After letting all the string out, the kite was directly above my head so, as I couldn't see it with making my neck hurt, I lay down on the beach so I could watch it.

A little girl wandered passed with her parents and spotted the kite flying high in the sky so I asked her if she'd like to have a go. She scampered over and she took the handle (my hand wasn't too far away just in case) and her little face was a picture! Mum suggested she could put it on her list for Father Christmas, and the girl seemed to think that was a good idea. How lovely!

Unfortunately, kite-flying success was not to be for my parents however and, as Hannah and William were the last people to use them, they got the blame!

By the time they'd got all the knots out, Mum declared she was 'freezing' so they went home!

I, on the other hand, walked back along the beach with the kite still flying high and only wound it back in when I turned off the beach the head home.

What a nice way to spend a summer's evening!

My Unsung Hero

So come on everyone...who's your unsung hero? Really think about it. It could be a relative, friend or colleague. You could have several unsung heroes or just the one. Right now, having been through quite a tough few months, I wanted to use my blog to write about my mine.

My close friends and family know how close I am to my parents, in fact, I wrote about it in a previous post. And when I'm having a tough time of it, need to just feel safe and loved, like many daughters, I turn to my mum. She has endless patience with my 'craziness', gives never-ending love, and has a slightly zany sense of humour (you may have wondered where I get it from!) that has contributed to the creation of a list of 'Hodsoll-isms', words that only our family know and use correctly. Words such as 'sprotzel' and 'situation-malation'. Mum also has awesome skills with a cake mixer and has the ability to make the best bolognaise EVER! Oooo...and lasagne, roast dinner...sausages and cheesy leeks...

But my unsung hero, who may be slightly embarrassed by this declaration is...my one and only Dad!

Dad's one of those people who will always be busy, not crazy, rushed-off-your-feet busy but he will just always find something to occupy himself with. In the garden, planting up vegetables (and babysitting my strawberry plants), mending something, putting together some complicated structure that's to become a new porch. I'll admit he's also partial to having a snooze in front of the TV in the evening but hey, we all need to indulge every now and again...or every evening eh Dad?!

I was inspired to dedicate a blog post to my Dad when a few weeks ago, I was helping with one of his aforementioned little projects...preparing the side of the house for its face-lift from wonky, old lean-to to a 'side porch'...or a more robust, weather-proof lean-to. I appointed myself as his apprentice and eagerly set to with this big, kangaroo-like thing (stereotypical female here in not knowing its proper name!) and broke up some concrete flooring so we could get some markers in place to indicate where the floor will sit to be level. The current floor is decidedly not level! 

When we were preparing the markers, and I say 'we' when really I was just sitting there looking mystified, I was watching Dad...and I knew that in his head some crazy construction calculation was going on. Working out the thickness of the different layers of flooring from final floor covering through to floor boards and joists so we could accurately mark the finished floor level. That may sound simple but when the current floor level varies, well, the maths seems to get more complicated. Basically, I was in awe!

(Above: 'Bodge-It and Scarper' reporting for duty.)

(Above: keeping a check on his work. You can't be too careful...)

Dad will readily admit that he doesn't understand the internal struggle I sometimes have with my mental health. He's one of those lucky sods who's never experienced the crazy world of depression and anxiety, or any other mental illness. Like I say...lucky sod! BUT most importantly, and for this I publicly thank him, from the bottom of my heart, he just 'is'. Steady and consistent, he encourages me to keep plodding on...and he doesn't even know he does, but then, neither do I sometimes!

Now I don't want my Mum to think she's not another hero of mine when it's impossible to contemplate how the last few months may have panned out without her by my side. Mum, you are my hero, my best friend and, at times, my carer. I suppose it's a natural thing for me to be with my mum. 

But Dad has to be ear-marked as my unsung hero as the time I spend with him, and him alone is less. There's no reason for that, it's just how it is. And I guess my reliance on him and my reliance on his unswerving presence is less obvious but it's there!  But, when younger, I was always keen to head down to Dad's shed to make random things out of off-cuts of wood, nails, PVA glue and wood shaving. The smell of cut wood always makes me think of Dad. I used to help him plant the veg seeds and then sampled the fresh pickings after washing them in stagnant water from the water butt (delicious!). Dad was the person to get splinters out of fingers, give a wheelbarrow ride and put a plank over a log and create a seesaw. Ah, good times!

So Dad, Mum...I love you both more than words can say.

PS. Hope this hasn't embarrassed you too much!

Fight the good fight

I have been doing a spot of 'googling' recently into the symptoms of depression and anxiety. Those of you who know that I've experienced such symptoms first-hand will be asking why I feel compelled to do this.

A few weeks ago, in the midst of trying to corral my 'black dog' back into his kennel (he's a long-haired shaggy black dog if anyone's interested), I made a pledge as part of the 'Time to Change' campaign led by UK mental health charities Mind and Rethink Mental Illness. My pledge was to tell my story and help stop the stigma attached to mental illness. Being open and honest is often very hard but I have found it surprising how much strength my 'black dog' loses when I do share my experiences. So, just in case you know where I'm coming from 'YOU ARE NOT ALONE'.

Everyone is different of course. Some have blonde hair, some brown. Some like chocolate, some don't (who are these people who fall into this second group?!). Some will never experience mental illness (lucky sods), some will have to learn how to take control and learn how to live with their mental health condition...in a similar way that those with physical illnesses have to manage theirs. 

There are many websites giving details of the symptoms of depression and anxiety - some have surprisingly short lists, others longer. But everyone who has ever experienced this horrible, debilitating illness knows that your own list is as individual as your fingerprint, as your DNA.

Many clinical and charitable websites give various lists of the symptoms experienced (links to these can be found at the bottom of this post). The overall list could go on forever, so as this blog is about me, here are the symptoms that I have the joy of knowing well!

Physical

• Nausea
• Tense muscles
• Decreased appetite (the only bonus of my latest battle is the fact I've lost 2 stone in weight!)
• Headaches
• Feeling light-headed
• Heart palpitations
• Frequent crying spells
• Poor sleep and early waking
• Needing the toilet more frequently
• Churning in the pit of your stomach
• Experiencing panic attacks

One of the frustrating things with my depression and anxiety is that fact that I KNOW the rational, logical thing to do to help myself...but the illogical, irrational messages my brain sends out are much, much louder. For example, despite feeling restless and like I've too much adrenaline coursing through my body, moving or exercising to use this adrenaline can be one of the hardest things to do. My mum is known for dragging me out for a walk everyday and some days, it can be one of few achievements such as having a shower and getting dressed.

Psychological

• Feeling tense, nervous and 'on edge'
• Having a sense of dread, or fearing the worst
• Feeling like other people can see you're anxious 
• Feeling your mind is really busy with thoughts
• Dwelling on negative experiences, or thinking over a situation again and again (this is called rumination)
• Feeling restless and not being able to concentrate
• Feeling numb or emotionally 'flat'
• Feeling overwhelmed or overloaded
• Taking no pleasure in the things that usually interest, excite and calm
• Difficulty in making decisions
• Decline in self-confidence and self-esteem

Again, one of the worst psychological symptoms of depression and anxiety for me, is the negative things my brain tells me - I'm useless, I'm a failure, I'm worthless. And yes, some of you might say 'well ignore that voice...you're none of those things'. If it were only that simple!

One of the most personal ways that depression and anxiety affects my behaviour, and only very close friends, my parents and my GP know this is...

I have self-harmed.

Don't be shocked or worried, I never broke the skin and caused real injury to myself, but I have left scratch marks on my arm. Why did I do this when, even at the time, I remember thinking 'this won't solve anything'? I suppose I did it because it was a release, a way of getting the pain and negativity from my head to outside of my body. It was a more tangible way of 'dealing' with my negative thoughts. Also, I guess it was a cry for help. No one can see the pain and torment going on inside my head, but a cut on my arm is visible to myself and to whomever I feel strong enough to tell at that time (my Mum and my GP).

Despite these horrible symptoms, and believe me there are many more that I've never experienced, it is possible to start thinking positively again. It takes time and lots of hard work but it is possible. I have found seeing a CBT therapist for one-to-one sessions the most helpful way of learning the tricks I need to keep on going. I am getting better at telling 'Gary the Gremlin' to 'bog off' and around my bedroom mirror are post-it notes displaying my most positive attributes as voted by family and close friends. Not self-indulgent, just nice reminders.

So to anyone who reads this, who is, or has been in a similar place to me - fight the good fight. And it is a good fight...only good can come of it despite how difficult it is. Good for you, good for your loved ones, good for people you've never met. You are strong. You are a good person. You have so much to give. 

And, you are not alone. 1 in 4 people in the UK experience a mental illness each year, so together, we can build up quite an army of people prepared to stand up and be counted.

Lastly (and I really am shutting up this time), through the Black Dog Tribe on Facebook (founded by Ruby Wax), I found this wonderful video of a real-life person sharing her experiences of anxiety. I'm still too scared to do a vlog (that's the technical term for a video blog don't you know) but this woman sums it up quite well...

More information of the symptoms of depression and anxiety can be found as follows:

www.mind.org.uk

www.nhs.org.uk

www.sane.org.uk

www.depressionalliance.org

There's no place like home.

Many of my friends both in real life and on Facebook have seen my latest finished cross-stitch. What initially attracted me to this design was the bright contrast between Dorothy's red shoes and the various greys that make up her legs. There were about 50 shades of grey too...or so it seemed to me by the time I'd finished!

As many of my friends know, I have been recently going through a bit of a battle with depression and anxiety and, while I still have my own flat, I have actually been living back at my parents house for the past couple of months. Initially, it was the only way my Mum could guarantee I would eat and get out of bed some days.

In finishing 'Dorothy' and receiving praise from people who saw it, I reflected on the words 'there's no place like home'. 

I am a 'home girl' - always have been, always will be. I make no excuse for this and don't have any desire to be any different. I wasn't nicknamed 'Boomer-Anna' for nothing when I was at Uni! Apart from this recent 'blip' with my mental health, and even while in the throws of battling it at its worse, I live independently. I rent a flat, run a car, pay bills, budget and save for the usual things. As the 90's girl band Destiny's Child would say 'I depend on me.' But, just for the moment, I am receiving what I call 'care in the community' at my parents house.

Sometimes, when my brain starts being difficult, I need more support from the people who know me the best - my family and close friends. And I relish in the fact that I have such a wonderful support network - one close friend who I saw yesterday often comments on how close I am to my family and I LOVE THAT FACT! Even when my depression and anxiety are securely in their box, I love spending time with those people that I feel 100% myself with and who I know will accept me no matter what state I'm in - happy, smiley Anna as well as withdrawn, quiet Anna (usually with a good dose of red puffy eyes thrown in for good measure).

So while, as Dorothy reminds us, there is no place like home, for me home doesn't necessarily have to be a building. Yes, we all need a place to call home; somewhere we can sleep, eat and wash. But 'home' can also be felt when in the company of those who mean the most to us, no matter the geography.