So this post will probably be a bit of a downer as I'm not in the best of places at the moment. I haven't written a post in so long because i haven't really felt the need (which is a good thing). Unfortunately, things have taken a turn for the worse regarding my mental stability and i thought it might help to unload all my thoughts and feelings onto here. There is your warning, please don't read if it's going to upset/trigger/piss you off.
I think people who have never experienced a mental illness don't truly understand how absolutely exhausting it can be. I feel like i am at war with my own mind, constantly trying to ignore and reject the thoughts that keep invading. Thoughts like "You're useless at your job", "No one actually likes you", "You're a waste of space". If i sat here and listed all of the irrational, illogical, invasive thoughts i had, we could be here till Christmas. It's just exhausting. And what makes it even worse, is that I KNOW they aren't true. I know that I'm good at my job as i've had many lovely colleagues tell me so. I know that people like me because i have questioned them and they have replied with "Of course!". And i know i'm not a waste of space because i do try hard to fight this battle and i want to help make a difference. The trouble is, just because I know these things, doesn't stop the thoughts from swirling in my head. And when you have a thought in your head for long enough, you start to wonder whether it is actually true. And when you've been fighting against these thoughts for what feels like forever, sometimes you just have to let them win.
I think one of the reasons that mental illness has always been surrounded in stigma is because you can't see it. You can't see that a person who is smiling, bright and bubbly on the outside is actually fighting a war on the inside. It's much easier to be sympathetic with someone who is puking their guts up than it is to someone who seems ok. In the past, I've rung in sick and felt the need to lie, saying i've had stomach bugs when really it is my brain being a dick because I was worried what they would think of me. Would they think i was lazy? Couldn't be bothered to get out of bed? Pulling a sickie? It's much easier to say "I'm not coming in today because i can't leave the toilet" than to say "I can't come in because me and my brain are at war and i'm exhausted and want to hide under a duvet all day because i feel like i can't move or breathe". Luckily for me, my work are very understanding and have given me a lot of support. But this isn't the case everywhere and I'm sure many people have felt the need to pretend they are physically ill rather than mentally.
It is also extremely difficult to justify the fact that you aren't in work. "What do you mean you can't move? Just get up". Sounds oh-so-simple and yet, there are days when you physically can't. I've had days where i will just sit and stare at something, like the washing machine, for hours. Just sat doing nothing but breathing and blinking. I keep telling myself to move but it's almost as if my body won't listen. And then, when you 'snap out of it', you feel so guilty for not being at work, or not doing anything, because everyone else is, and they can cope, and they don't have to have time off work because they can't move. Of course, the guilt makes you feel worse and you get lower, so you have more days where you can't move and can't go into work, making you feel more guilty - and so the spiral begins. One of the joys of depression, is the depression spiral; you get frustrated that you're depressed and feel useless, making you feel more depressed and more useless, and so on. Many people believe that it is this pattern of negative thinking that keeps depression going. But have you ever tried to change the way you think? It's not the easiest thing in the world.
And before you ask, no there isn't a reason. There isn't a cause. There isn't anything that has happened to make me feel worse. Unfortunately it doesn't work that way. I woke up on Sunday morning feeling as if the world was on top of me, suffocating me and that feeling hasn't quite lifted yet. I realise this post is very "woe is me, my life sucks" but actually my life doesn't suck. I love my life. I love my job, my friends, my family. I'm just unlucky to be one of the millions of people who have to live with a mental illness everyday of their life. And sometimes, you just need a good moan!
Wednesday, 23 September 2015
Sunday, 1 March 2015
Self Injury Awareness Day 2015 (trigger warning)
Wow. Firstly i'd like to say that i'm sorry i haven't written anything in 7 months...! I guess life caught up with me a bit. Also, I haven't felt the urge or the need to write anything despite there being lots to write about. I'm happy to say that things are going extremely well in my life. I have a job that I absolutely adore and for once, i feel like i know where i stand in life. Whilst i do have the occasional freak out over the fact that i am a grown up now, no longer in education, working a proper full time job, i feel pretty stable (not sure how i feel about that word but hey, it's going in for now). But I don't always feel this way and for a long time, every day was a challenge. And so we come to my reason for writing this post - it is Self Injury Awareness Day. I guess you could say this is my story/confession/experience.
I've never really talked about my self harming in much detail to anyone, apart from very close friends. The first time i self harmed, i was probably around 14 or 15 (I don't remember exactly) and at the time, i didn't get the relief that i would later on. It hurt. And i thought 'God, why do people do this?' I didn't feel better afterwards, i just felt stupid for having tried it in the first place. I remember that i only managed a small scratch on my leg. But then things started to get worse and i felt like i couldn't breathe, couldn't move for the weight pressing down on me. I felt like i was going to explode at any moment and the only thing i could think of was to try again, to try and get that release that i so desperately needed. And i did. All the emotional pain and confusion i was feeling could suddenly be turned into something physical, something i could see. It somehow made everything more real, made me feel less like i was drifting, invisible to others. I started cutting myself most nights, mainly on my legs where i knew no one would be able to see.
I moved from my legs to my arms. I remember feeling like i wanted someone to see. I wanted someone to know what i was going through. So many people say how self harm is just attention seeking, and perhaps there is an element of it. When you feel so alone and isolated from everyone else, can you blame a person for wanting someone to notice that things aren't ok? All you want is for someone to understand, to help. But at the same time, you don't want to be a burden on others, you don't want people to judge you or think you're a 'freak'. I was now self harming in a place which other people could easily see. But i didn't want them to. I began wearing long sleeved tops, even if it was hot out. I'd try any excuse not to go swimming at school and took extra care in the changing rooms. But it never felt like enough. Sure, it would give me some relief, make things seem a little more easy. But i'd wake up the next day and be back to square one, feeling like there was a weight on my chest. I felt like i was continually treading water, it was exhausting. For me, it got to the stage where self harm wasn't enough anymore and i started to feel suicidal. I won't go into details about this moment in my life, as i still struggle to talk about it, and generally wish that i could forget that it ever happened. I can't imagine the pain that i must have put my family and friends through. And i still feel guilty about it, even though it was 7 years ago. All i can say is that i felt like i had no other option.
Things started to get better. I started seeing a councillor every week and it helped a lot to talk about how i was feeling. But it still didn't keep the thoughts at bay. I was still self-harming, although it wasn't on as regular a basis as it had been. I was put on antidepressants when i was 16, and i've been on them in some form or another ever since.
I think that with self harm, once you have felt that relief, you are constantly trying to find it again. It becomes a cushion you can fall back on when things aren't going so well. Because you know that self harming will give you that release, it becomes something that you know is going to help. I'm happy to say that for the most part, i'm good at ignoring these urges. But i have had a few 'relapses' i guess you could call them. I had a pretty bad one over summer, but i haven't self harmed since then. I find it much easier to talk about now, and i know which friends i can talk to who won't judge me for feeling the way i do. I think having days such as SIAD and Mental Health Awareness Day really are helping to break through the stigma surrounding mental health issues. And i hope, by writing this post, I'm helping in a small way.
I've never really talked about my self harming in much detail to anyone, apart from very close friends. The first time i self harmed, i was probably around 14 or 15 (I don't remember exactly) and at the time, i didn't get the relief that i would later on. It hurt. And i thought 'God, why do people do this?' I didn't feel better afterwards, i just felt stupid for having tried it in the first place. I remember that i only managed a small scratch on my leg. But then things started to get worse and i felt like i couldn't breathe, couldn't move for the weight pressing down on me. I felt like i was going to explode at any moment and the only thing i could think of was to try again, to try and get that release that i so desperately needed. And i did. All the emotional pain and confusion i was feeling could suddenly be turned into something physical, something i could see. It somehow made everything more real, made me feel less like i was drifting, invisible to others. I started cutting myself most nights, mainly on my legs where i knew no one would be able to see.
I moved from my legs to my arms. I remember feeling like i wanted someone to see. I wanted someone to know what i was going through. So many people say how self harm is just attention seeking, and perhaps there is an element of it. When you feel so alone and isolated from everyone else, can you blame a person for wanting someone to notice that things aren't ok? All you want is for someone to understand, to help. But at the same time, you don't want to be a burden on others, you don't want people to judge you or think you're a 'freak'. I was now self harming in a place which other people could easily see. But i didn't want them to. I began wearing long sleeved tops, even if it was hot out. I'd try any excuse not to go swimming at school and took extra care in the changing rooms. But it never felt like enough. Sure, it would give me some relief, make things seem a little more easy. But i'd wake up the next day and be back to square one, feeling like there was a weight on my chest. I felt like i was continually treading water, it was exhausting. For me, it got to the stage where self harm wasn't enough anymore and i started to feel suicidal. I won't go into details about this moment in my life, as i still struggle to talk about it, and generally wish that i could forget that it ever happened. I can't imagine the pain that i must have put my family and friends through. And i still feel guilty about it, even though it was 7 years ago. All i can say is that i felt like i had no other option.
Things started to get better. I started seeing a councillor every week and it helped a lot to talk about how i was feeling. But it still didn't keep the thoughts at bay. I was still self-harming, although it wasn't on as regular a basis as it had been. I was put on antidepressants when i was 16, and i've been on them in some form or another ever since.
I think that with self harm, once you have felt that relief, you are constantly trying to find it again. It becomes a cushion you can fall back on when things aren't going so well. Because you know that self harming will give you that release, it becomes something that you know is going to help. I'm happy to say that for the most part, i'm good at ignoring these urges. But i have had a few 'relapses' i guess you could call them. I had a pretty bad one over summer, but i haven't self harmed since then. I find it much easier to talk about now, and i know which friends i can talk to who won't judge me for feeling the way i do. I think having days such as SIAD and Mental Health Awareness Day really are helping to break through the stigma surrounding mental health issues. And i hope, by writing this post, I'm helping in a small way.
Sunday, 3 August 2014
Time is a valuable thing
Firstly i'd just like to start off by apologising for my absence from blogging for the past month or so. It would seem that life got in the way a little bit, what with graduation, finding a job and a house to live in. I also hadn't felt inspired to write anything, maybe because i actually felt genuinely happy for a long while (yay me!). I guess that's how you feel when you achieve something, especially when you weren't sure about going to university in the first place. Well i did it and i made it through and i don't regret it one bit. In fact, i'm so grateful to my parents for encouraging me to go. If i hadn't, i wouldn't have made the fabulous friends that i have today (nor would i have achieved getting a degree which is pretty special in itself).
Anyway, this post, as the title suggests, is all about time and how it seems to slip through your fingers. I look back and i can't believe how quickly 3 years of my life has gone. It seems like only yesterday when i was nervously stood outside of Simpsons Halls, unsure of whether i'd made the right decision. I remember feeling a sense of complete panic when my parents left and i almost felt like running down the road after them screaming 'Wait! You left me behind!!' But that feeling didn't last long as the people in my flat made me feel welcome. It helped that we were all in the same boat, all nervous and unsure. And then, in the blink of an eye, i'm graduating, surrounded by people who i love and couldn't have made it through without. I'm a new, confident person, able to speak to strangers rather than sit in the corner of the room and not say anything. Not only that, but i now have my first ever full time job and i can't help but think 'Where did my childhood go?' I feel like i want time to slow down a bit and let me breathe!
It's funny, isn't it, how when you are young all you want is for time to hurry up. You watch the clock in the classroom, counting down the minutes until school is over and you can go home. Even during the summer holidays, about halfway through when you're getting a bit bored, i used to think 'Oh i hope school hurries up so i can see my friends'. You can't wait for it all to be over, GCSEs, A-levels, everything. You don't appreciate the fact that time is precious and that sooner, rather than later, it will run out. I think of all the missed opportunities that i had. God, i sound very old talking about 'missed opportunities' but it is how i feel at the moment. Maybe it's because i'm in a new era of my life, i'm no longer a student. After 16 years of education, it's time for me to move into the working world. And maybe that's why i can finally appreciate how important time is and how we need to make the most of it.
But on the flip side of this, it's strange how as humans, we are the only ones who measure time. Maybe if our life wasn't so controlled by what hour it is in the day or what day it is in the month, we'd actually be able to live in the moment. We'd be able to enjoy the small things in life that, as we rush around now, we miss. Things like how beautiful it is to watch the sun slip down behind the horizon. Or how amazing it is to watch a flower slowly bloom. We are constantly rushing around from here to there, never happy to just sit down and stop, never taking a few minutes just to realise how amazing the world really is. Because a side effect of measuring time is that it will inevitably run out. Whether it's the hours in the day, or the months in a year, there is an end. And we spend our lives worrying about when this end will be. I don't necessarily mean death, even the smallest of things like worrying about the hours left until a deadline or the hours left of a weekend before it's back to work.
And for me, a consequence of time inevitably running out is that i can't help but think of my grandparents. I look at my grandparents and think 'They aren't as young as they used to be'. I feel like i never appreciated going to see them when i was younger, that i never really appreciated the time that i spent with them. Maybe that's just how my anxious mind works though - i always worry about everything and everyone. (Plus i'm very good at jumping to the worst possible scenario). I'm not sure what it is but i feel like there were a lot of missed opportunities where i could have taken the time to see them but chose not to instead. Maybe this is just a side effect of growing up and being able to appreciate things. When you're young, you always take it for granted that your parents, grandparents, any relatives, will always be there. And it isn't until you are older that you realise that this isn't the case. I know this sounds very depressing, but it is true.
There is nothing that we can do about time running out nor is there anything we can do about it slipping between our fingers. But we can appreciate the time that we have with our loved ones, we can appreciate the little things. And maybe we can try and take 5 minutes every now and then to just sit and think and enjoy life. Maybe we should all try to live in the moment a bit more, rather than worrying about what lies ahead.
Anyway, this post, as the title suggests, is all about time and how it seems to slip through your fingers. I look back and i can't believe how quickly 3 years of my life has gone. It seems like only yesterday when i was nervously stood outside of Simpsons Halls, unsure of whether i'd made the right decision. I remember feeling a sense of complete panic when my parents left and i almost felt like running down the road after them screaming 'Wait! You left me behind!!' But that feeling didn't last long as the people in my flat made me feel welcome. It helped that we were all in the same boat, all nervous and unsure. And then, in the blink of an eye, i'm graduating, surrounded by people who i love and couldn't have made it through without. I'm a new, confident person, able to speak to strangers rather than sit in the corner of the room and not say anything. Not only that, but i now have my first ever full time job and i can't help but think 'Where did my childhood go?' I feel like i want time to slow down a bit and let me breathe!
It's funny, isn't it, how when you are young all you want is for time to hurry up. You watch the clock in the classroom, counting down the minutes until school is over and you can go home. Even during the summer holidays, about halfway through when you're getting a bit bored, i used to think 'Oh i hope school hurries up so i can see my friends'. You can't wait for it all to be over, GCSEs, A-levels, everything. You don't appreciate the fact that time is precious and that sooner, rather than later, it will run out. I think of all the missed opportunities that i had. God, i sound very old talking about 'missed opportunities' but it is how i feel at the moment. Maybe it's because i'm in a new era of my life, i'm no longer a student. After 16 years of education, it's time for me to move into the working world. And maybe that's why i can finally appreciate how important time is and how we need to make the most of it.
But on the flip side of this, it's strange how as humans, we are the only ones who measure time. Maybe if our life wasn't so controlled by what hour it is in the day or what day it is in the month, we'd actually be able to live in the moment. We'd be able to enjoy the small things in life that, as we rush around now, we miss. Things like how beautiful it is to watch the sun slip down behind the horizon. Or how amazing it is to watch a flower slowly bloom. We are constantly rushing around from here to there, never happy to just sit down and stop, never taking a few minutes just to realise how amazing the world really is. Because a side effect of measuring time is that it will inevitably run out. Whether it's the hours in the day, or the months in a year, there is an end. And we spend our lives worrying about when this end will be. I don't necessarily mean death, even the smallest of things like worrying about the hours left until a deadline or the hours left of a weekend before it's back to work.
And for me, a consequence of time inevitably running out is that i can't help but think of my grandparents. I look at my grandparents and think 'They aren't as young as they used to be'. I feel like i never appreciated going to see them when i was younger, that i never really appreciated the time that i spent with them. Maybe that's just how my anxious mind works though - i always worry about everything and everyone. (Plus i'm very good at jumping to the worst possible scenario). I'm not sure what it is but i feel like there were a lot of missed opportunities where i could have taken the time to see them but chose not to instead. Maybe this is just a side effect of growing up and being able to appreciate things. When you're young, you always take it for granted that your parents, grandparents, any relatives, will always be there. And it isn't until you are older that you realise that this isn't the case. I know this sounds very depressing, but it is true.
There is nothing that we can do about time running out nor is there anything we can do about it slipping between our fingers. But we can appreciate the time that we have with our loved ones, we can appreciate the little things. And maybe we can try and take 5 minutes every now and then to just sit and think and enjoy life. Maybe we should all try to live in the moment a bit more, rather than worrying about what lies ahead.
Wednesday, 18 June 2014
My name is Georgie and I'm an emotional wreck
Well as the title suggests this is a post/rant about what it's like to be an emotional wreck. For starters you never know what is going to set you off; maybe that really cute fluffy puppy or maybe a slightly emotional advert (I'm looking at you Pets at Home with your cute animals and children being best friends that makes me well up every time it comes on the TV). It might even be during the BAFTAs when a montage of Julie Walters' work is shown (yes this did happen). Of course, they always say that it is a good thing to be in touch with your emotions, in fact, crying can sometimes be healthy. But then there's me. Anyone who knows me knows how much i cry. Crying is my go to reaction to lots of things; stress, anger, happiness, hysteria, cuteness, tiredness, basically everything. I'm not really sure why i'm like this. It's safe to say that i think i've only ever seen my dad cry twice and my mum only really cries when we've had to have one of our animals put down or if there's a particularly sad movie on. Now i do know that my brother is quite in touch with his emotions (especially when alcohol is involved). The fact that when we went to my cousin's wedding we were about the only two people in the whole place crying during the speeches is testament to that (even our cousin's sisters weren't crying!) So it's nice to know that i'm not the only one in the family who likes a good cry (he is going to hate me for this....Sorry Will!) But no one is as bad as me.
The worst is when I'm having one of those I've-started-crying-and-now-it-won't-stop moments. When the flood gates have been opened that it's, i'm gone. I'm a mess of tears, mascara, snot, hiccuped breathing, all of it. Crying is definitely not an attractive trait. In fact, i'm not sure how actors make themselves look relatively normal when they are crying. Even the slightest amount of tears will make my eyes go red and puffy, my nose goes red, i get the whole wobbly lip thing. So not only am i an emotional wreck, i'm also an ugly crier. Yay for me! I hate it when i'm having an argument and i start crying because then i find it extremely difficult to say anything or stand up for myself. I just close up and can't speak and then i get the panicked breathing/crying thing that is just brilliant. And that just makes whoever i'm arguing with even more angry at me because i freeze up and can't speak.
'Just get a grip' i hear you shout. Believe me i've tried! I keep trying! I look up, which is supposedly meant to help stop tears, but has never really worked for me. I try taking a few deep breaths. I try to distract myself. Nothing seems to work particularly well. We had our Graduation Ball last Friday and i was a complete wreck that night. It was slightly more understandable as we are all leaving uni and won't be seeing each other as much as we have over the past few years (and of course alcohol was involved), but i was the only one who properly cried out of my friends. Of course, they expected nothing less from me having spent 3 years dealing with my ability to cry at everything and anything. But once it started, i couldn't stop. Graduation i'm sure will be another week of tears for me, although hopefully i will be able to keep them at bay until after my photo has been taken!
God knows what i'll be like when i have children of my own. Watching 'One Born Every Minute' is definitely dangerous territory for me. And any programme that involves baby animals. In fact, just being around babies (of all species) can be a dangerous emotional-wreck-inducing situation. Every time i hold a baby, i can feel the tears stinging at my eyes. I'm hoping that this is a slightly more normal thing to cry at....i mean it is pretty amazing and magical how that tiny human develops. Animals are also dangerous territory, especially if they are injured or have to be put down or something similarly sad (don't even get me started on 'Marley and Me', i don't think i've ever cried so much at a film). It's not just TV that make me cry, books do it too. Or even an emotional news story. To be honest, anything remotely sad or emotional can set me off.
I'm sure i'm not alone in this although i definitely think i am quite young to be such an emotional wreck. It's definitely more understandable when you are older, but i'm 21 years old and i'm pretty sure i've cried more than anyone in my family has, and with a combined age of 126 years, that's saying something. Who knows why i'm like this?! I certainly don't but it's something that i've had to deal with. It's just another part of who i am, albeit a very annoying part of who i am. Because there's being in touch with your emotions and then there's me.
The worst is when I'm having one of those I've-started-crying-and-now-it-won't-stop moments. When the flood gates have been opened that it's, i'm gone. I'm a mess of tears, mascara, snot, hiccuped breathing, all of it. Crying is definitely not an attractive trait. In fact, i'm not sure how actors make themselves look relatively normal when they are crying. Even the slightest amount of tears will make my eyes go red and puffy, my nose goes red, i get the whole wobbly lip thing. So not only am i an emotional wreck, i'm also an ugly crier. Yay for me! I hate it when i'm having an argument and i start crying because then i find it extremely difficult to say anything or stand up for myself. I just close up and can't speak and then i get the panicked breathing/crying thing that is just brilliant. And that just makes whoever i'm arguing with even more angry at me because i freeze up and can't speak.
'Just get a grip' i hear you shout. Believe me i've tried! I keep trying! I look up, which is supposedly meant to help stop tears, but has never really worked for me. I try taking a few deep breaths. I try to distract myself. Nothing seems to work particularly well. We had our Graduation Ball last Friday and i was a complete wreck that night. It was slightly more understandable as we are all leaving uni and won't be seeing each other as much as we have over the past few years (and of course alcohol was involved), but i was the only one who properly cried out of my friends. Of course, they expected nothing less from me having spent 3 years dealing with my ability to cry at everything and anything. But once it started, i couldn't stop. Graduation i'm sure will be another week of tears for me, although hopefully i will be able to keep them at bay until after my photo has been taken!
God knows what i'll be like when i have children of my own. Watching 'One Born Every Minute' is definitely dangerous territory for me. And any programme that involves baby animals. In fact, just being around babies (of all species) can be a dangerous emotional-wreck-inducing situation. Every time i hold a baby, i can feel the tears stinging at my eyes. I'm hoping that this is a slightly more normal thing to cry at....i mean it is pretty amazing and magical how that tiny human develops. Animals are also dangerous territory, especially if they are injured or have to be put down or something similarly sad (don't even get me started on 'Marley and Me', i don't think i've ever cried so much at a film). It's not just TV that make me cry, books do it too. Or even an emotional news story. To be honest, anything remotely sad or emotional can set me off.
I'm sure i'm not alone in this although i definitely think i am quite young to be such an emotional wreck. It's definitely more understandable when you are older, but i'm 21 years old and i'm pretty sure i've cried more than anyone in my family has, and with a combined age of 126 years, that's saying something. Who knows why i'm like this?! I certainly don't but it's something that i've had to deal with. It's just another part of who i am, albeit a very annoying part of who i am. Because there's being in touch with your emotions and then there's me.
Monday, 2 June 2014
Going through the motions
Do you ever feel like you are just going through the motions to get through a day? You get up, you eat, you talk when spoken to, but you never really feel connected to it. You don't feel sad or happy, you just feel nothing. Nothing seems to make you feel happy or sad or anything. I don't know whether 'normal' people have days like this, i don't know whether it's just a 'crazy person' thing or whether it is a usual occurrence. Maybe it's because I've finished uni and i don't have anything to do so i don't feel like I have a purpose, i'm not sure, but i've had several days like this recently. I'll get up and do the things that i need to do for that day, but i don't really feel connected to any of it. I'll smile and laugh and talk when it's needed, but inside i feel strangely hollow. Gosh that sounds terribly melodramatic, but it's the only word i can think of to describe how i feel when i have days like this. I don't know whether it would be classed as dissociation or not, but there are definitely times where i lose touch with reality. This is a normal occurrence for everyone, for instance, if you're driving home and you don't quite remember how you got there. The route is so familiar to you that you go through the motions of driving home without thinking about it. This is a very common and mild example of dissociation.
Now this is fine, what's not fine is when you dissociate when you are having a lovely meal with your friends. This happened to me the other day when i went outside for a cigarette. As i came back in, i couldn't tell if what was happening was real or whether i was dreaming. My legs were moving me to the table that we were sat at but it didn't feel real. I didn't feel in control of my body. It happened to me again on Friday. I had a strange sense of deja vu, that this exact scene had happened to me before and just like that, i couldn't tell if it was real or not. It's a rather unnerving thing to happen to you, especially as there are no warnings signs as to whether it's going to happen or not. One minute you are fine and the next, you feel detached from reality. You feel as if you looking at yourself from a distance but at the same time, you know you are in your body. (I don't think that makes any sense but it's all very strange anyway!)
I can only compare it to those dreams you have where you are running but moving too slowly and no matter how hard you try to move faster, you can't because you aren't in control of your limbs. Or those dreams where you feel like you are watching yourself from a distance. Dissociating (or whatever it is that's happening) feels very similar to that, or it does to me anyway. As i've said before, we are all individuals and we all experience things in different ways. Perhaps it's because i don't have a routine anymore and anyone who knows me well, knows how important routines are to me. Perhaps i just need to find more things to do with my free time, i'm not sure. All i know is that this has been happening more frequently than it ever has before. I'm not entirely sure what to do about it which is why i wrote this blog. I thought putting it down into words would help me to make more sense of it, although i still feel confused and like I'm just going through the motions of my life. Who knows, maybe i'm just losing my mind (well losing it even more than i already am!)
Now this is fine, what's not fine is when you dissociate when you are having a lovely meal with your friends. This happened to me the other day when i went outside for a cigarette. As i came back in, i couldn't tell if what was happening was real or whether i was dreaming. My legs were moving me to the table that we were sat at but it didn't feel real. I didn't feel in control of my body. It happened to me again on Friday. I had a strange sense of deja vu, that this exact scene had happened to me before and just like that, i couldn't tell if it was real or not. It's a rather unnerving thing to happen to you, especially as there are no warnings signs as to whether it's going to happen or not. One minute you are fine and the next, you feel detached from reality. You feel as if you looking at yourself from a distance but at the same time, you know you are in your body. (I don't think that makes any sense but it's all very strange anyway!)
I can only compare it to those dreams you have where you are running but moving too slowly and no matter how hard you try to move faster, you can't because you aren't in control of your limbs. Or those dreams where you feel like you are watching yourself from a distance. Dissociating (or whatever it is that's happening) feels very similar to that, or it does to me anyway. As i've said before, we are all individuals and we all experience things in different ways. Perhaps it's because i don't have a routine anymore and anyone who knows me well, knows how important routines are to me. Perhaps i just need to find more things to do with my free time, i'm not sure. All i know is that this has been happening more frequently than it ever has before. I'm not entirely sure what to do about it which is why i wrote this blog. I thought putting it down into words would help me to make more sense of it, although i still feel confused and like I'm just going through the motions of my life. Who knows, maybe i'm just losing my mind (well losing it even more than i already am!)
Tuesday, 20 May 2014
It's Done
A word of warning, this is a bit of a soppy post but i'm in a soppy mood!
My 3 years at university have been filled with ups and downs, laughs and tears. But i just want to say a massive 'Thank you' to all of my friends who have stuck by me despite my crazies. You have no idea how much you all mean to me, I wouldn't have made it through everything if i hadn't had you. You all know who you are, so i won't write a whole list of names. But it is thanks to you that my confidence in myself has grown. You have been my rocks, my shoulders to cry on, and you have always been there when i need a cuddle (even those of you who don't like cuddles!). For those of you who i met this year, i only wish we had met sooner! But i am sure we will have plenty of time together after uni. So thank you, for making the past 3 years the best of my life!
There was a time that i very nearly didn't come to uni. I was too afraid to leave home, too anxious about meeting new people. I didn't think i'd be able to cope being so far from home and my friends and family. But i decided to go anyway. And i am so unbelievably happy that i did. If i hadn't of come to uni, i would still be stuck at home, moping about doing some boring job. And whilst i will be moping about doing some boring job after uni, i will be doing it in my own flat with one of my best friends. And that makes me happier than you can even imagine. If i hadn't of come to uni, i would never have met the wonderful people that i know now, nor would i have grown into a confident, independent young woman (wow, sounds weird referring to myself as a woman, but i kind of feel like i am one now….Maybe..!) Hindsight is a wonderful thing but if i could rewind the clocks, i wouldn't change a thing (well maybe a couple of things, but mostly i wouldn't!)
So here's to you, my amazingly awesome, supermegafoxyawesomehot (this is a Starkid reference…my inner nerd coming out a bit!) friends. Without you i wouldn't have made it this far and for that i am, and will always be, unbelievably grateful. I love you all and wish you all the best of luck for the future, a future that will hopefully involve all of us staying in contact for a long, long time!!
(Sorry that this is a ridiculously soppy post!)
Monday, 12 May 2014
My life is a nightmare [TRIGGER WARNING]
A fair warning, this post may be (who am i kidding, it is) a bit of a downer, i'm not in the best of moods at the moment, maybe it's because i answered a question on self harm and suicide in prisons this morning, I'm not sure. I won't be going into a lot of detail, but i will be talking about things that some people will be uncomfortable reading. Please stop now if you are, i don't want to upset anyone, i just feel like it's time to talk about it.
I haven't really gone into too much detail of my experience with depression, some aspects are pretty personal (and i am definitely ashamed of some bits as well) but as i'm feeling down at the minute i thought maybe writing about it would help me. Depression is a horrible, tiring, frustrating, down right annoying thing. It lurks in the corner of your mind like a shadow, waiting to spring out and attack you with thoughts and feelings that aren't pleasant. I had my first exam today and i can't bring myself to feel good about the fact that i've got this far. It's an achievement, i know that, but it can be so hard to see yourself in a positive light. It's silly, i know, but i feel as if i'm going to fail at everything. I keep jumping the hurdles that life throws at me but at times, all i want to do is get swept away with the tide. I can't though, i know that, but it doesn't stop me from feeling like that. Some people use their depression or mental illness as an excuse. And i know we all cope in different ways, but it does annoy me when i see people wallowing and just letting their mental illness control their life. I try so hard everyday to fight against mine. And do you know what? It's bloody exhausting! When you know you have a deadline or revision to do or even going out for a meal with friends, they can seem like the hardest of things. You just want to crawl into bed, pull the duvet over your head and sleep until it's all over. But you can't, you have to get up and you have to get on with it. This is a battle i face nearly everyday. Some days are worse than others, some days i wake up and nothing can stop me. But a lot of the time, i feel as if i have no energy. The simplest of tasks seem to sap every last ounce of strength i have. I think people who have never experienced depression don't realise how tiring it is to constantly fight your own body, to constantly ignore the bad thoughts. And i think it's hard to understand that whilst everyone feels stressed during a deadline or exam, imagine how hard it can be for people like me. When all you can think is 'I'm a failure, what's the point?' And it doesn't matter how many times people tell you that you aren't, it doesn't stop you thinking that way. Sometimes it doesn't even matter if you have the physical proof that you are doing well.
Maybe i should explain my title a bit better. I said this in passing as a joke to one of my friends at uni the other day. But the more i think of it, the more it seems true. Yes there are good days, and i'm pleased to say that i normally have more good days than bad days. But can you imagine having to constantly battle against yourself? To constantly ignore all the urges to just give in? When i refer to 'urges' and 'bad thoughts' i mean self harm. My experience of depression began with me self harming when i was 15. At the time i didn't really know what was going on, i didn't realise that i was suffering from a mental illness. It just became a way for me to cope with how i was feeling. It became an escape, a place i could go when life seemed too difficult. And after i got help, saw a councillor, and moved on with my life it stopped. But the stresses of uni brought back the feelings and the urges again. I have to admit i have not been on the best of behaviour over my 3 years. But i also haven't been at my worst. It's been 3 months since the last time and i'm proud of that. Self harm is like an addiction; you know that if you do it, you'll only get a temporary relief, but you also know that that relief is like the sun bursting through the clouds on a cloudy day. Sounds romantic, right? Well no, it's not. Because after you've done it, the guilt of what you have done comes flooding back. And then you feel just as bad, if not worse, than you did before. And yet, like an addiction, you go crawling back to it when the going gets tough. I have these urges a lot, in fact i have them a lot more than i've ever been willing to tell anyone (well guess the cat's out of the bag now) but i fight them. And most of the time i win. But it does seem so easy sometimes to just let it happen. I will always have something by my bed or in my drawer, it brings me a strange sort of comfort to know that it's there if i need it. Don't worry, as i said, it's been 3 months and just because i'm writing this doesn't mean i feel like doing anything. I've become pretty good at ignoring it and i turn to other things to distract me (namely food - i am a MASSIVE comfort eater). Sometimes just watching a sad film and having a good old cry will sort it out. But the urges are still there, just subdued for the moment.
Depression can feel like there is a weight on your chest, pushing you down and stopping you from rising. Your limbs can feel tired and achy (kind of like when you have the flu but on a regular basis). And whilst you know that getting up and going outside for some fresh air, or sitting in the living room with your friends will help, sometimes it's easier just to roll over and hide away. It's silly really because you feel isolated when you are depressed but at the same time you isolate yourself. Sometimes you feel like you want to be alone but a lot of the time you don't want to be a burden on your friends. I don't want to be that person who sits in the corner of the room sulking and waiting for someone to ask me what's wrong. Or the person who shuffles around the house, silently waiting for someone to come to them. You become your own worst enemy, feeling lonely but staying alone or feeling down but not finding someone to talk to. And so you shut your door and keep your miserable self to yourself. But sometimes, in a moment of clarity, you realise that it's not all bad, that there are people who love you, that you aren't the hideous monster you perceive yourself to be. Sometimes you can wake up and think 'Yep, i've got this! Bring it on!' You can look in the mirror and think you look pretty or find yourself free of the weight and full of energy. Only to wake up the next day, back to exactly how you were before, the weight on your chest, the urges back, and another day to battle the seemingly never-ending battle. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the reason why my life is a nightmare!
(Sorry for the depressing tone)
I haven't really gone into too much detail of my experience with depression, some aspects are pretty personal (and i am definitely ashamed of some bits as well) but as i'm feeling down at the minute i thought maybe writing about it would help me. Depression is a horrible, tiring, frustrating, down right annoying thing. It lurks in the corner of your mind like a shadow, waiting to spring out and attack you with thoughts and feelings that aren't pleasant. I had my first exam today and i can't bring myself to feel good about the fact that i've got this far. It's an achievement, i know that, but it can be so hard to see yourself in a positive light. It's silly, i know, but i feel as if i'm going to fail at everything. I keep jumping the hurdles that life throws at me but at times, all i want to do is get swept away with the tide. I can't though, i know that, but it doesn't stop me from feeling like that. Some people use their depression or mental illness as an excuse. And i know we all cope in different ways, but it does annoy me when i see people wallowing and just letting their mental illness control their life. I try so hard everyday to fight against mine. And do you know what? It's bloody exhausting! When you know you have a deadline or revision to do or even going out for a meal with friends, they can seem like the hardest of things. You just want to crawl into bed, pull the duvet over your head and sleep until it's all over. But you can't, you have to get up and you have to get on with it. This is a battle i face nearly everyday. Some days are worse than others, some days i wake up and nothing can stop me. But a lot of the time, i feel as if i have no energy. The simplest of tasks seem to sap every last ounce of strength i have. I think people who have never experienced depression don't realise how tiring it is to constantly fight your own body, to constantly ignore the bad thoughts. And i think it's hard to understand that whilst everyone feels stressed during a deadline or exam, imagine how hard it can be for people like me. When all you can think is 'I'm a failure, what's the point?' And it doesn't matter how many times people tell you that you aren't, it doesn't stop you thinking that way. Sometimes it doesn't even matter if you have the physical proof that you are doing well.
Maybe i should explain my title a bit better. I said this in passing as a joke to one of my friends at uni the other day. But the more i think of it, the more it seems true. Yes there are good days, and i'm pleased to say that i normally have more good days than bad days. But can you imagine having to constantly battle against yourself? To constantly ignore all the urges to just give in? When i refer to 'urges' and 'bad thoughts' i mean self harm. My experience of depression began with me self harming when i was 15. At the time i didn't really know what was going on, i didn't realise that i was suffering from a mental illness. It just became a way for me to cope with how i was feeling. It became an escape, a place i could go when life seemed too difficult. And after i got help, saw a councillor, and moved on with my life it stopped. But the stresses of uni brought back the feelings and the urges again. I have to admit i have not been on the best of behaviour over my 3 years. But i also haven't been at my worst. It's been 3 months since the last time and i'm proud of that. Self harm is like an addiction; you know that if you do it, you'll only get a temporary relief, but you also know that that relief is like the sun bursting through the clouds on a cloudy day. Sounds romantic, right? Well no, it's not. Because after you've done it, the guilt of what you have done comes flooding back. And then you feel just as bad, if not worse, than you did before. And yet, like an addiction, you go crawling back to it when the going gets tough. I have these urges a lot, in fact i have them a lot more than i've ever been willing to tell anyone (well guess the cat's out of the bag now) but i fight them. And most of the time i win. But it does seem so easy sometimes to just let it happen. I will always have something by my bed or in my drawer, it brings me a strange sort of comfort to know that it's there if i need it. Don't worry, as i said, it's been 3 months and just because i'm writing this doesn't mean i feel like doing anything. I've become pretty good at ignoring it and i turn to other things to distract me (namely food - i am a MASSIVE comfort eater). Sometimes just watching a sad film and having a good old cry will sort it out. But the urges are still there, just subdued for the moment.
Depression can feel like there is a weight on your chest, pushing you down and stopping you from rising. Your limbs can feel tired and achy (kind of like when you have the flu but on a regular basis). And whilst you know that getting up and going outside for some fresh air, or sitting in the living room with your friends will help, sometimes it's easier just to roll over and hide away. It's silly really because you feel isolated when you are depressed but at the same time you isolate yourself. Sometimes you feel like you want to be alone but a lot of the time you don't want to be a burden on your friends. I don't want to be that person who sits in the corner of the room sulking and waiting for someone to ask me what's wrong. Or the person who shuffles around the house, silently waiting for someone to come to them. You become your own worst enemy, feeling lonely but staying alone or feeling down but not finding someone to talk to. And so you shut your door and keep your miserable self to yourself. But sometimes, in a moment of clarity, you realise that it's not all bad, that there are people who love you, that you aren't the hideous monster you perceive yourself to be. Sometimes you can wake up and think 'Yep, i've got this! Bring it on!' You can look in the mirror and think you look pretty or find yourself free of the weight and full of energy. Only to wake up the next day, back to exactly how you were before, the weight on your chest, the urges back, and another day to battle the seemingly never-ending battle. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the reason why my life is a nightmare!
(Sorry for the depressing tone)
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