Mental Health Awareness Week: Supporting Someone with Mental Illness

 

Picture taken from promises.com.sg/can-help-person-love/

 

A solid and reliable support network is vital in helping someone with a mental illness to cope and eventually recover, but being a source of support for them is really tough. It is difficult to know what to do or what to say to them, because half the time, they don’t even know what they need themselves! The type of support does vary from person to person, but here are some things that everyone can do, to help support someone on their mental health journey:

 

Educate yourself. This is probably the most important thing you can do; how do you know how to support that person, if you don’t even know what is it they’re dealing with on a daily basis? By learning about their illness, you can begin to understand and empathise more about their struggles, learn the symptoms to keep an eye out for and detect more easily when they are struggling, so you can step in to help quicker. Mind is a mental health charity and has a whole section on their website with information on the different types of mental health problems. For each illness, they explain what the illness is, its causes, treatment and even gives guidance for family and friends. These resources give a general overview of each condition, but everyone experiences a mental illness differently. So if your friend or loved one is willing to talk about theirs, I personally believe that asking them to explain their personal situation to you, is the best way to learn about their illness, as you know specifically what it is that they are going through.

Find out what support they need. As I’ve said, everyone will have different experiences on their mental health journey, so even with support, it is not ‘one size fits all’; what will help for one person, may have the opposite effect for another. So the best thing you can do is to ask your friend or loved one what helps them. Now, we don’t even have all the answers when it comes to our mental illness, so the person may not actually know themselves what it is they need or what help they want. I’m always learning more about my mental health, what helps and what doesn’t, every day of my own personal journey, and I’m always finding that what worked one day, doesn’t necessarily work all the time. In this situation, you just need to be understanding and patient. We know it’s frustrating, we get unbelievably frustrated by this too! But by keep checking in with them and asking them what they need in that moment instead of just guessing, makes them feel more in control of their mental illness and lets them know that you really are there to help them.

Be present. There have been a few times when someone has asked me how I’m doing, but while I’m still answering them, they’ve started to look around the room, look at their phone or start talking over me. I know it’s easy to get distracted- I’m guilty of this too- but it is really important that if you’re going to have a chat with them about how they’re doing, you need to stay present and really listen to what they’re saying. When you start looking at other things, it feels like you’re looking for something better to focus on, like we’re boring you, like you don’t actually care about what we have to say, and as our self-esteem and confidence is already on the floor, this just damages it even more. It takes a lot to open up about mental illness. I still really struggle to talk during the bad days, so when I do and it goes badly, it really knocks my confidence, causes me to revert back into myself and makes me never want to open up again. Also, there might end up being a few pauses where they’re trying to find the right words or, like me, even just struggling to talk about it full stop. If this happens, don’t jump in straight away; you need to allow them the time to talk about things at their own pace.

Keep in touch. This is really basic, but can be so powerful. A simple text message, just to check in on them, can go a really long way, especially if that person has started to withdraw. Our mental illness lies to us all the time and basically tries to turn us against those close to us; it has more power if it makes us feel isolated and alone. But by keeping in touch, it just gives them a little reminder that you are actually still there for them and are thinking of them. Going a step further and sending them empowering messages can also help to boost their confidence, self-worth and mood. Reminding them of their strengths, their skills, how capable they are to get through this, how strong they are, how amazing they are doing, how far they’ve come…just hearing that you believe in them can be so powerful in cutting through the self-derogatory noise in their head. Reminding them of what they mean to you encourages them to keep battling through the dark times, as it makes them aware that there actually are people who truly care about them. Also, please keep inviting them to things. In the age of social media, this is even more important. I can’t tell you how many times I have gone onto Facebook or Instagram and got really upset, because I’ve seen my friends are out, but I never got an invite. It’s even more ridiculous because I know I would have declined their offer, but it still would have been nice to have been invited. We know we are flaky and we know there’s certain events that we will definitely say no to; we know you know this too (this is all starting to get a bit Phoebe vs Monica in Friends now!). But inviting them along will make them feel included, like you still see them as part of the friendship group and stops them from feeling even more isolated.

Accept that you can’t fix them. We know you mean well and your intentions are good, but you can’t magically ‘fix’ us. You want to help your friend or loved one to be better so badly, that you end up trying to solve all their problems and come across as though you have all these quick and easy answers. In your eagerness, you might even end up saying the completely wrong thing as well, making matters worse for them. If I had a pound for every time someone has said to me ‘well, just don’t think like that, think more positively’ or ‘just think happy thoughts’, I would be living on my own island right now. If this actually worked, we’d all be bloody cured. It is also really unhelpful to be telling them what they should or should not be doing to make them feel better. Someone else you know might have been able to do more chores or get out the house every day, and this might have aided their recovery. But that isn’t the case for everyone. Some days, it’s a massive hurdle to just get out of bed, so putting pressure on them to do more could end up being more detrimental to their mental wellbeing. There is no quick fix to make your friend or loved one better and comments like those above, are harmful. Personally, it makes me feel as though my friend/relative just does not understand what I’m going through at all, which then puts up even more of a barrier. Just being there for and listening to them, without judgement, speaks absolute volumes and will mean the world to them. Recovering from a mental illness is a long and bumpy road; we just need your help in staying on track.

Remind them of the importance of self-care. Self-care feels pretty icky to most people, but for those with mental illness, it completely contradicts all the thoughts and feelings we have about ourselves daily, which is why it often ends up falling by the wayside. When I hit a rough patch, even the basics like bathing, cleaning my teeth or washing my hair, go out the window. I feel so low about life and about myself, I just think ‘what’s the point in doing anything?’. If you know they’re struggling, they’ve been taking on too much and they haven’t been looking after themselves properly, remind them to take some time out for themselves. You could send them a quick message and prompt them to watch their favourite TV show or film, read a book or take a long, relaxing bath. You pop round and make them a nice, hot cuppa or offer to help with chores, so they can take a break. You could take them out for a country walk (you can leave the lead at home though) or plan a fun, chilled day out. Self-care is different for everyone, so absolutely anything goes, just as long as it is something that makes them happy, that they enjoy and that nourishes and recharges them.

Just ‘be’ with them. This is a difficult one for me to explain, so try and bear with me. Living with a mental illness is exhausting. I find socialising really draining, as I’m constantly trying to concentrate on and contribute to the conversation, while my head is so full of noise. Even though I actually want to be spending time with friends and family, I end up just shutting myself away, simply because I don’t have the energy to even keep up with a chat. At these times, I just need the company, for someone to just sit and ‘be’ with me. So if your friend wants to meet up, but doesn’t have the energy to properly socialise, invite them round or go round theirs for a film night, take them for a drive or sit and watch TV with them instead. You might be sat in silence the whole time, as they really might not be up to talking about anything, but they will really appreciate the fact you are there.

Allow them to feel how they feel. There are times when I have a full on, emotional meltdown, but when someone asks me what the matter is, I have absolutely no clue what I’m crying about (this is more of a regular occurrence these days than I care to admit). This is unfortunately part and parcel of mental ill health; we get emotional and sometimes for the life of us, can’t fathom out why, we just are. The best thing you can do for your friend or loved one in this situation, is to simply let them feel how they feel. If they feel like crying, then let them cry. Telling them ‘don’t cry’ or ‘there’s no need to cry’, just invalidates their feelings and can make them feel embarrassed or ashamed of how they’re feeling. Instead, just sit with them, offer them a hug and tell them it’s ok for them to cry, to not be ok and to feel this way, and that you will be there to help them through it.

Establish boundaries. This is important for both parties involved, as it sets what support your friend or loved one can expect from you, while ensuring your own mental and physical wellbeing at the same time. If you are offering your support to them, you need to be clear and honest about what you can and cannot do, and also when you are able to commit to this. Don’t say to them ‘you know you can call or text me at any time’ or ‘if you ever need anything, you know where I am’, if you don’t sincerely mean it. When they do take you up this offer and you’re not there for them, it can then stop them from reaching out for help in future. On the flip side of this, it is also really important for you that these boundaries are in place, so that you don’t burn yourself out. You are only human, you cannot support your friend or loved one with everything or all the time and you shouldn’t be expected to either. It is just as important to take some time out to look after yourself too. By letting them know your limits, they will be clear about what they can expect from you and vice versa.

 

However you choose to give your support, just know that it truly is a gift to those suffering from mental ill health, and could even be a lifeline for them. The important thing is that you are showing you will always be there for them and that you will always care about them. You are not going to get it right every time, but your support doesn’t have to be perfect for it to make a difference; your friend or loved one will just appreciate the fact that you are making an effort to help them. They might not be able to tell you at the time how amazing and wonderful you are for even just sticking around, but they are and always will be so grateful that you have.

 

Although I am posting this as part of my mini-series for MHAW, these ideas aren’t only for use during the campaign. Mental illness is something we have to live with every minute of every day; we will need your support throughout our journey to recovery, not just this week.

 

As a final note, I want to take this opportunity to thank my amazing support network, because if I didn’t have all you wonderful people in my corner, I certainly would not still be here today. You all give me the strength, courage and determination to keep fighting through the black days and I cannot fully express how much I appreciate all the support from each and every one of you.

Mental Health Awareness Week: Coping with Stress

The theme for Mental Health Awareness Week 2018 is coping with stress, so I thought what better way to kick off this mini-series, than by discussing this year’s main focus.

Everyone will have experienced some degree of stress at some point in their life- it is, unfortunately, inevitable and unavoidable. Stress is the feeling of being under abnormal pressure, in reaction to a real or a perceived threat, known as a stressor. These stressors could be financial worries, moving house, increased workload, bereavement, illness…the list goes on! When our brain detects one of these stressors, our stress response is triggered. This is our evolutionary survival strategy, which gave our ancestors the ability to either stand and fight or run away when they encountered danger. The stress response is the same today, as it was back then, but the problem is, that these days, stress is more a result of our way of life and less to do with physical threats. And, unfortunately, our brain can’t distinguish between physical and emotional stressors, so the physiological response is the same for both.

While a moderate amount of life stress can actually help us to perform better under challenging circumstances, it becomes a problem when these stressors occur more frequently or start piling up on top of one another, as we are repeatedly triggering this stress response on a daily basis. This results in chronic stress which end up taking its toll on both our physical and mental wellbeing. It leaves us feeling overwhelmed, overloaded and unable to cope and even puts us at a higher risk for developing a mental illness.

I, for one, am a massive stress head. I literally stress about absolutely bloody everything! It is ridiculous how much I stress. I stress about how stressed I am. And when I’m not stressed, I even stress about that, BECAUSE OF COURSE THERE IS ALWAYS SOMETHING TO STRESS ABOUT! So I thought I’d take the stress test over on the Mental Health Foundation’s website, to see where I fell on their stress gauge (you can take this test here). The highest stress result you can reach is 40, and this might come as a shock to you, but I ended up scoring 36- pretty fucking high. (Probably worth me taking their suggested mindfulness course…)

But I am not alone. The Mental Health Foundation undertook a study of stress levels in the UK and over this past year, they found that a staggering 74% of people have felt so stressed, they feel overwhelmed or unable to cope. That’s nearly three out of every four people in the UK at risk! This is a really worrying statistic, especially when you consider that one in four already experience a mental health problem each year.

But how can we support our mental health, to help us cope better with life stresses and stop us from becoming too overwhelmed and burning out?

Well, these used to be my go-to ways of dealing with my problems, worries and stress, aka, the worst possible coping mechanisms imaginable (don’t know what I was thinking, they definitely didn’t work). I would go out every weekend and get absolutely wasted, as a way to de-stress and forget about my problems. I would overeat on chocolate, biscuits, cake, sweets…anything and everything unhealthy, to try and make me feel better. Or if I was too stressed out and worried, I felt I didn’t even have the time to stop and eat. And who has time to sleep, when you’ve got so much to do and worry about!? There were also days when personal hygiene went out the window. I barely ever exercised. I stopped doing all the things that made me happy. Basically, anything I felt wasn’t a necessity, I simply did not have the time for and so, it was scratched from my routine. Also, when I experience emotional stresses- like when my Grandma passed away, when I felt really homesick and lonely on my year abroad, when I hit problems in my relationship- I bottle up my feelings, as I have never known how to deal with them, and repress them deeply into the darkest corners of my subconscious. I thought that by doing this, I could lock the stress of it away in a little box in my mind, forget about it and move on with life.

None of these worked out well for me AT ALL. I had basically made more room in my life for the things that stressed me, which, in turn, gave the stress more control over my body and mind. I took on too much, kept up too fast a pace and didn’t learn to deal with my problems, so eventually, I completely burnt myself out. Stress really took its toll on my mental health and by not dealing with things properly or sooner, my mental state deteriorated to the point where I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression.

These days, with the weight of this mental illness on my shoulders, any stressful circumstance seems to hit me ten times harder and sets off a ripple effect throughout my mind and body. Although I am very much still a work in progress, I have been working hard at recognising when I am overwhelmed, pressing pause and putting into practice one of the alternative techniques I have read about, to be able to deal with the stressor better and limit the increased repercussions on my wellbeing. By using books on anxiety and information from the websites of mental health charities, I have been able to develop a self-help toolkit of better, healthier ways to cope with stress.

Be assertive. I still struggle with this one at times as I am an incessant people pleaser, but I’m beginning to learn that it’s ok to say no sometimes. I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve ended up with a jam-packed schedule, all because I can’t say no to people. I’ve ended up doing things I don’t enjoy, going to places that make me uncomfortable, spending time with negative influences and this has put an insane amount of pressure on me in the past. I now try to pick what I want to and feel comfortable with going to only, to try and lower my stress levels and make sure I’m not taking on too much in one go.

Be present. A lot of my time is spent worrying and overthinking about the past and the future. I can spend hours ruminating at a time; I start off thinking about one little thing and before I know it, I’ve snowballed and my head is full of worries, stressing me out. But now, when I notice this is happening, I ground myself in the present, by focusing on my surroundings. I start with five things I can see and I tend to include touch in this as well. Then two or three things I can hear. If I can smell and taste anything, then I will do these two senses too, but these ones prove to be more difficult. As I go through, I don’t just list them off, I have to describe them in detail. So if I can see a table, what colour? What material? Is it big or small? What type of table? Are there any marks? Anytime my mind starts stressing again, I bring my attention back to my surroundings. I do still struggle to notice when I’m overthinking too much and to implement the technique before it’s too late, but I know this will come easier, the more I practise.

Breathe. This is such a simple technique, but it is so effective. I have recently started to use public transport again and this is something I find really stressful. I have ended up having quite a few panic attacks on buses in the past, so it has become a bit of a learnt behaviour pattern. But if I start getting too panicked, I close my eyes and focus my attention on my breathing. I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth, noticing the sensations in my chest, until I have established a steady rhythm. Then I start to count the breaths. One breath = one inhale and exhale. I do this up to ten, and then if I still feel stressed, I start counting again. Then I just keep repeating until I’m feeling calmer. Your brain can’t focus on both your breathing and your thoughts at the same time, so this is a great way of clearing and calming the mind.

Ask for help. When I go through stressful periods, I still tend to shut myself away from the world, as I don’t want to burden my friends and family with my problems. I am trying more and more though, to reach out to my support network and ask for help when things all start getting a bit too much. In the past, my friends have helped me solve problems, offered to physically help me with all or parts of a task to lighten my load and helped to put things in perspective. As they say, a problem shared is a problem halved! If you don’t feel like you have anyone close you can talk to though, charitable organisations such as the Samaritans have a free helpline, which offers support around the clock. There is always help out there.

Write it down. Writing has become a sort of therapy for me, as I’m not the best at talking things through. I began blogging at the end of last year, as a way to get things off my chest and have recently purchased a bundle of notebooks (I bloody love stationery!), so I can start journaling. One is for my morning pages, which is just a way of me clearing out my mind, onto the page, ready for the day ahead. Another is for my actual journal, where I document events, thoughts and feelings from the day, so that I can track any patterns in relation to my mood. The last one, however, is for as when I need. If my head starts getting too loud and I’m stressing about too much, I open this notebook and write down everything that I am worrying about. I place them in order of priority and starting with the most important, I list all the possible solutions I can think of and then circle the one I think is best. By doing this, I have taken the worries out of my head, made sense of the noise and sorted through the problems one by one, thus rationalising my stressors.

Exercise. Whenever I get stressed, I feel really hyper-aware and pretty amped up. This is because our body is flooded with adrenaline and cortisol, giving us a burst of energy to be able to deal with the situation; the fight or flight response is activated. However, my stress triggers aren’t physical, so these hormones don’t end up being utilised. Exercise is a great alternative to make use of these stress hormones and relax your body and mind. It doesn’t even need to be strenuous exercise; a brisk walk around the block can get you back into a calmer state.

Make time for you. Self-care is so important, but it’s always the first thing to go when I feel stressed. I’m making sure though, that I make the time for at least one thing each day that makes me happy, feel nourished and relaxes me. Self-care looks completely different for everyone, but these are just some of the things I do, to look after myself: I really enjoy getting lost in a good book; I feel super relaxed after a nice, long, hot bath; I feel nourished after I meditate; I am happier when I’m surrounded by nature and especially when I take a walk along the coast. Whatever it might be for you, just make sure you schedule in some ‘me-time’ everyday, to restore your settings and recharge your battery.

Be grateful. I was really dubious when I read about this, but it actually has helped me to focus less on the stresses in my life. Every evening before bed, I write down three things that I am grateful for and at least one positive that has happened that day. This helps to pull my attention away from any negative thoughts and feelings and instead shines a light on things that have gone or are going right for me. By making a note of these as well, I am then also able to look back at all the positivity in my life when I hit another stressful period, which helps to put those new stressors in perspective.

Limit caffeine. I have had to cut way back on my caffeine intake, as it aggravates my anxiety, but if I am feeling particularly nervy, I won’t drink it at all. Caffeine is a stimulant and adding this to the excessive amounts of stress hormones already in my system, will only serve to heighten my already anxious state. I really struggled with this at first as I bloody love tea, but I have now managed to limit myself to one cup of normal tea first thing in the morning, before I switch over to either a decaf or herbal option, for the rest of the day.

Get a good night’s sleep. My sleep has improved drastically in recent weeks (more to do with my new meds, but at least I’m getting 8+ hours), but before this, I really struggled with my sleep. It would take me ages to finally nod off and even then, I always had a restless and fitful night’s sleep. I’ve worked really hard over the years to improve my sleep pattern and quality, by establishing a bedtime routine using sleep hygiene: I have a bath in the evening; I drink chamomile tea: I write in my journals to clear my mind of any thoughts or worries; I stop using electronics an hour before my bedtime; I read a book which helps my mind wind down and tire my eyes; I try to fit in a guided sleep meditation, as this relaxes my whole body and helps me to drift off peacefully. Your routine can use anything that relaxes your body and calms your mind, as this will be different for everybody. The key to cracking this though, is consistency- you need to keep it up and make sure to be in bed by roughly the same time each night, so that your brain gets used to a predictable bedtime routine.

So there you have it! Just some of the ways I now try to manage my stress levels, to cope better with those lemon pelting days. Are there any other stress-busting tips you would add to this list? What activities or techniques help you to relax most? Be sure to add them in a comment below for others to check out- they might find them just as useful!

Mental Health Awareness Week

Happy Mental Health Awareness Week everyone!

I am well aware I am a day late to the party, but I have been really struggling to sit and concentrate long enough to write and edit any decent content. I have been panicking that I wouldn’t actually have anything to share with you, but as a mental health blogger, I felt it would be pretty poor on my part if I didn’t get involved in the campaign and use my platform to help raise more awareness this week, so I’ve powered on through and now have a few posts that are almost ready to upload.

If you follow my blog, you’ll be aware that I have struggled with my mental health over the past few years and this culminated in me being diagnosed with severe anxiety and depression last August. I also have many close family and friends who suffer from mental ill health, so raising awareness and increasing understanding of mental illness is something that is really important to me.

So over the course of this week, I will be using my own personal experiences, to talk about some of the important topics on the subject of mental illness. Some of the areas I will be touching upon are: this year’s theme of stress, ways to support someone with a mental illness and why the stigma needs to stop. I will also share my list of recommended resources, as well as a final important message to take away from the week’s campaign.

It is going to be a crazy busy week on here and the most content I have uploaded in a week since I started this blog. I am only scratching the surface with the posts I’ll be sharing this week, but by talking openly and honestly about these matters through my own personal mental health journey, I hope it can encourage others to share their stories, give those struggling the courage to seek help and most importantly, add my voice to the ever-growing crowd, raising more awareness and better understanding of mental ill health.

Every voice counts in the fight to raise awareness, increase understanding and make positive changes towards attitudes and policies surrounding mental illness. So make sure you get involved this week and start opening up the conversation on mental health. Discuss your thoughts in the comments section under each post and be sure to get sharing on social media as well! Let’s make some noise!

 

Counselling Reflection #1

I really don’t know what to make of that session at all. I don’t even know where to start with explaining how I feel about it.

I’d been feeling super anxious all morning about this appointment, to the point where I had the overwhelming urge to just cancel and hide under my duvet for the rest of the day. Just the thought of sitting, talking to a stranger about my thoughts, feelings and problems, makes me feel beyond uncomfortable, so actually physically going and doing just that…I wasn’t sure I could cope with it; I could not do that. But (un)fortunately for me, my mum was taking me there and staying with me until I had finished, so she was dragging me there whether I liked it or not.

We arrived at the surgery in good time (my anxiety has been good for making me more punctual), so I only had 10 minutes to wait until my appointment time. Expect that I actually had to sit in the waiting area for 40 minutes, as he ran over by half an hour. This is one thing I am really not good at coping with. I struggle when there are delays and I have to hang around waiting; I just want to get in, get the thing done and go home. Luckily my mum was there with me, with helped to keep me slightly calmer than if I’d be by myself, but as I was already in a highly anxious state, this really didn’t help matters.

Now, since being back from the session, my head has been very much all over the place, so I will try my best to explain clearly, but my thoughts might end up being a bit jumbled- just bear with me.

The main point of this session was basically for him to get a sort of timeline of events, thoughts and feelings that lead to me seeking help and being diagnosed, so he could get a better picture of the background of my illness. So, for what felt like the thousandth time, I went back through and explained each event that had happened, step by step, and then he asked me some pre-prepared questions about some of my thoughts and feelings more recently. This was all pretty straightforward and I actually managed to keep my composure throughout and not burst into tears on him -think this might be the first time, so I’m counting that as a win! But he kept jumping back and forth and jumbling things up, which really caused me some confusion, as I struggle to remember things at the best of times. He kept going back to parts we’d already moved well on from, to ask more questions and clarify details. He also got really hung up on the time I spent in France, and not on the difficulties I had and how they contributed to my condition, but talking about the culture, the people and the places he’s visited there. It felt like half the time he was just chatting to me about his holidays!

From the time I went in to the time we finished, I just wanted to get up and leave. I didn’t feel like I was particularly gaining anything from being there and in actual fact, I feel worse for going through it. I’ve come home feeling pretty deflated about it all and I have this horrible, uncomfortable feeling sitting in my chest and stomach, which has been there since this morning. I’ve done nothing but cry since I got back and my head is in such a mess, I just can’t seem to settle now. I don’t know if the aversion I’m feeling is towards counselling in general or because of the therapist I had. I just don’t feel as though we clicked at all and it was a struggle to open up and talk to him properly. The whole experience just felt really icky, but I can’t seem to put my finger the exact reason why.

I have another session booked in with him for next Monday, so I guess I’ll just give it another go and see if things improve from this time. I’m just feeling a bit confused about it all and unsure of what to do now, as I don’t have any proper previous experience of therapy to compare this to. How long are you supposed to wait before you re-evaluate and try a different route or therapist? How many sessions do you need to know if the therapist is the right fit for you, or if counselling full stop is? Is this a ‘normal’ reaction to have after your first session? I have more anxiety and more questions after leaving the appointment, than I did to start with!

It seems only time will tell, so hopefully things will start to improve. I’d love to hear any advice you can give me or your own experiences of starting therapy, so please do leave a comment below!

Pre-Therapy Jitters

So I finally have my first counselling appointment tomorrow! And boy, has it been a long road to finally get just this initial meeting…

When I was diagnosed back at the end of August last year, I was referred to the Primary Counselling Service at my old GP surgery back in Cardiff. However, the waiting list was so long, I had to wait 7 months and had to chase the referral up three times, before I was even booked in for a preliminary assessment. It was great news, even if I was feeling pretty nervous about it, as I was finally getting the help I desperately needed at this point.

The appointment was due to take place on 2^nd March this year, but by the end of February, things had all taken a turn for the worse with my mental health and in my personal life too, and at that point, I had made the decision to move back home with my parents. I still attended the session to discuss my options and see if there was a chance that I could just transfer the counselling to my GP in West Sussex, but this wasn’t possible and I instead had to go back through the system with my new GP surgery. This really knocked me, as it had already taken so long to get anywhere with the service in Cardiff and I felt desperate to start getting more help and support; I really couldn’t wait another 7 months!

So after moving back home, one of the first things I did, was to register back at the doctor’s surgery, book an appointment and get my new GP to refer me to their counselling service, hoping the whole time the process could be sped up. Their first available appointment wasn’t until the beginning of April and although I conceded and booked myself in for it, I became so low, I had to call for an emergency appointment towards the end of March, as it just became too long a wait. I was given details to self-refer to the ‘Time to Talk’ team and after filling in their online form, I received a questionnaire through the post to complete prior to my telephone assessment on 18^th April. I was feeling really optimistic and very relieved, as it seemed I wouldn’t have to wait too much longer to be seen by a professional; the process was much quicker this time around.

Then came the actual appointment. The call started with her asking for my details, before we moved on to my answers from the questionnaire. The first section was the PHQ-9 (‘over the last 2 weeks, how often have you been bothered by any of the following problems?’), so I just had to relay the number I had circled for each statement. All was going well, until I reached the final statement: ‘Thoughts that you would be better off dead or of hurting yourself in some way’. For this, I had circled 1- ‘several days’. At this point, due to the nature of my thoughts and the fact I couldn’t say with certainty I wouldn’t act on them, she stopped the assessment and went off to speak with her supervisor. When she came back, she told that she would not be continuing with this session, as there was no telling if something further on in the assessment would trigger me and she could not guarantee my safety. She told me she would be contacting my GP to inform them of the situation and that I should book an emergency appointment to get an ATS assessment and to put a safety plan in place for me.

When the call ended, I was in full on panic mode. I could tell the woman was pretty worried about my safety and she made me feel as though I was a danger to myself. I told my mum everything and then was straight back on the phone to the surgery. They gave me an appointment for 4pm that day, before hurriedly calling me back, telling me that they had moved things around and I would now be seen as soon as possible. Panic attack had fully set in at this point. My mind was racing; my whole body was shaking.

When I arrived at the surgery, I was taken into the GP’s office pretty much straight away. She was so lovely and managed to calm me down somewhat, before I explained the morning’s mayhem. She then wanted to know more on the background of my case, so I walked her briefly through everything that had happened since my diagnosis, right up to my current living situation, the things I was doing on a daily basis and the support I now had back home. Having questioned me fully and gained a proper insight into my current circumstances, she assured me that she did not believe I was a risk to myself and I had enough support around me to ensure I would not be able to act upon any of the thoughts I had had; I was in a safe environment. Once she was satisfied with this, we discussed my next steps. The ‘Time to Talk’ team was likely to simply bounce me back to the GP again, so instead she referred me to ‘Springvale’, which is part of the Sussex Partnership NHS service.

Fast forward to Friday just gone, when I received a call from one of their team members, asking if I was available to meet with them at my doctor’s surgery on Monday and now, I officially have my first proper counselling appointment at midday tomorrow.

I have been really relieved, knowing that I will finally now be getting the professional help I’ve been waiting 9 months for, but at the same time I could not be more anxious about tomorrow’s session. It’s the anxiety of not knowing what to expect, not knowing who I’ll be meeting, not knowing what they will ask me. I have that feeling, like when you’ve waited for something for so long, and then when you finally get it, you’re not actually really sure if it’s what you wanted at all. I have never been great at talking about my feelings and the only other time I have had counselling was a complete disaster (I said very little, burst into tears and after one session, I never went back). I know this will be good for me, or more I hope this will be good for me, it’s just getting over this initial fear of therapy, pushing through the anxiety to get the help I need. And knowing that to make the most out of it, I need to go into this with an open mind, be as honest as I can and engage with it fully. And that terrifies me. I just hope that this will be a turning point in my recovery and that the wait will have been worth it.

I’m trying not to pin all my hopes on this working though, in case talking therapy just isn’t the right route for me. As I say, I am so unbelievably bad at opening up, this could be a complete waste of everyone’s time. But even if I’m not able to talk through my feelings or the events that have triggered my anxiety and depression, I hope I can at least gain some strategies and techniques to better cope with my illness and that these will aid my recovery. Fingers crossed!

 

Have you tried counselling/therapy? Did it work for you? What have you learnt from your sessions? Is there anything you wish you had known before you started? As always, let me know in the comments below!

A Little Kindness and Compassion Goes a Long Way

Feeling in one of my brighter moods over the weekend, I booked an appointment to get my eyebrows waxed for today and planned a morning jaunt out in town, including popping in to my get my haircut on top (the place I go, you can’t book an appointment; you just rock up anytime and wait to be seen by the next free hairdresser).  I decided I would get the bus in as well, to get myself used to using public transport again and had set out to do all of this, all by myself.

I was definitely over-ambitious. Woken up this morning by 10 consecutive alarms (I don’t normally set an alarm at the moment, but if I need to, it takes a whole army of them to bring me back to the world of the living), I initially was feeling pretty good; VERY sleepy, but pretty good. Until I remembered why I’d set the alarms and panic began to set in BIG TIME.

‘What have I done!?’ ‘Why on earth did I ever think I could do this much in one go?’ ‘I can’t do this!’ ‘I’m going to have to chat to the hairdresser!’ ‘There will obviously definitely be a massive queue and I’ll have to hang around forever to be seen. I can’t cope with that!’ ‘Then I’ll have to chat with the beautician!’ ‘Oh god! Then there’s all the shop assistants!’ ‘What if people try to socialise with me in the shops as well?’ ‘What do I say to them!?’ ‘Oh my God, this is going to be horrific.’ ‘I’m going to have a panic attack. While I’m out. Alone.’ ‘Oh God, I’m panicking now!’ ‘This will be a complete disaster.’ ‘I definitely can’t do this.’ ‘I’m such an idiot.’ ‘I’ve got to cancel.’ ‘For fuck’s sake, Sophie.’ ‘Why have you always got to be like this?’

So, in my state of peak anxiety, I emailed the salon (I really don’t cope well with phone calls) and let them know I was going to have to cancel my appointment for this morning. I explained to them that I suffer from anxiety and depression and was having a bit of a bad morning, having worked myself up into a panic about my plans.

‘Why did you have to go into detail about why you were cancelling the appointment?’, I hear you ask. Well, I am an incessant people pleaser and really do not like it when people don’t like me or are annoyed at me, even people I don’t even know, so I felt I needed to explain that I hadn’t just changed my mind on a whim, there was a genuine reason for having to cancel.

Now, I was outside of the cancellation period (you have to give at least 24 hours’ notice to be able to cancel an appointment without being charged), so as per their cancellation policy, I was expecting to have to pay 50% of the original appointment charge. But instead, I was surprised with this lovely email from the beautician who was due to carry out my treatment:

 

My response from Transformations Beauty Group in Horsham, West Sussex

I try to be as honest and open as I can be about my condition now, as I know there is nothing to be ashamed about and being so closed about it is the reason I am in this position now. It’s always a risk though, as there is still so much stigma surrounding the subject of mental health that you just never know how people or companies are going to react. So I really wanted to share this positive response with you all, as it really made my day.

 

Having such a lovely, compassionate response from this salon has really helped to make me feel better about my meltdown earlier. When I panic and have to cancel plans, I berate myself relentlessly for letting people down; I don’t treat myself with any kindness at all. In showing me the compassion that I can’t show myself, it helps teach me how I should actually act towards my own mind and even slightly helps to shift my own thoughts, to make me be a bit easier on myself. It has made me feel a lot less anxious about rebooking and attending my future appointment as well, knowing that the staff are so helpful and caring in these situations. It really does make all the difference to me that they were so understanding about my illness and haven’t penalised me because of it, allowing me to reschedule instead of just charging me for the inconvenience.

So thank you Transformations Beauty Group and especially Hang for being so lovely and empathetic! If everyone responded in this same way to mental health issues, the world would be a much better place.

Has Anyone Seen My Mojo?

I realise I have been a bit M.I.A. on here yet again, so apologies for the lack of posts recently.

To be honest, the last couple of weeks, I’ve found myself in a bit of a slump, where I have just completely lost interest in all things I used to find fulfilling, including this blog.

I finally managed to get my medication changed a week ago Wednesday, so I am now on Mirtazapine at a 15mg dose. This was great as I’ve been fighting for a change for well over a month now, but it massively avalanched me back down the emotional scale, causing a pretty big depressive period. This is something I always forget about when changing anti-depressants: it always gets worse before it gets better.

The storm was pretty bad again- think thunder, lightning, massive crashing waves, being all tangled up in seaweed dragging you down, kinda storm- third time around didn’t seem much easier. I have completely lost all motivation, interest and concentration, making it difficult for me to stick at any sort of task or activity for more than five minutes. Most days, I’ve barely done anything other than lie in bed with the TV on for company. I’ve even had to turn my phone off a few times, as I’ve struggled coping with any sort of communication and social media. I’ve tried to keep myself involved, mainly just with family though, and in short bursts, so that I’m still socialising, still connected to the outside world and so that I’ve had other things to focus on other than my thoughts.

Because the thoughts have been horrific during this transition. I’d go as far as saying that this has been the worst change for this. I have been inundated with thoughts of worthlessness, self-deprecation and thoughts that I’d be better off dead. The suicidal thoughts have been much more numerous, more vivid and more frightening. There have even been days where the urge to act on these has almost overpowered me. I’ve been considerably more panicked and on edge over this last week and a half as well. It’s been like there are hundreds of mini-fires scattered across my brain, each part filled with its own screams, causing my body to raise the alarm and prepare to fight the flames, but my internal fire department has shut up shop. My head and my chest are on fire, but I have no resources, no way of extinguishing the blaze.

The tablets have knocked me for six with the exhaustion as well. My fuel gauge has been completely empty every day since starting on them- I have just had no energy whatsoever. I’ve been weak, dizzy and even faint some days and my vision has been very blurred and almost shaking at times. I wake up more tired than I went to bed and although mornings have always been hard for me, they are on a whole other level now. I really struggle to come round, to get my vision to focus and to motivate myself out of bed. I feel so groggy, it’s like I’ve been heavily sedated. I’m having to have at 2/3 cups of caffeinated tea when I can finally get myself out of bed, to try and make myself feel that little bit more human, but most of the day I’m still walking about like a zombie.

There have been some positives in all this though. Although my energy levels makes it feel like I’ve had very little sleep, my sleep has actually improved dramatically. I’m sleeping at least 10 hours every night and I’m not even waking up during the night anymore- or if I am, I don’t remember it. The first night I was on Mirtazapine, I slept from 10pm until 1:30pm the next day!

My appetite has also significantly recovered; I literally cannot stop eating. Any food that’s in my sight, it’s going in my mouth. I have been ravenous and nothing seems to satisfy the hunger. It’s getting so bad, I’ve started to get a little Buddha belly haha! But at least I’m starting to put some weight back on, after the problems I had with Sertraline.

I’m also beginning to come out of the worst part of the storm now, which has luckily been a much shorter settling period than the previous anti-depressants, lasting only a little over a week. I’m still experiencing the odd day or part of a day where I’m feeling really low and irritable, but it’s becoming a lot less severe and even frequent.

I’m hoping that this means I’m on the slow and steady incline back up to feeling more like me again. Every day, my mood is gradually picking up that bit more, so fingers crossed, my focus and motivation to get things done will be following not too far behind. I guess it is as they say though, your concentration is always the last thing to return.

Hopefully, it won’t be too much longer and I’ll be back in the full swing of writing new material to post here, so continue to keep your eyes peeled! In the meantime, if any of you do stumble across my mojo on your travels, could you please send it in my direction? I would be ever so grateful. Ta!

A Mindful Coastal Walk

This past week, I have been very up and down. I still don’t feel as though I have completely adjusted to this massive life change, then add the reduction of my medication dosage into the mix and you’ve got yourself one pretty emotionally unstable Sophie. I also got absolutely nowhere with the doctors on Friday to review my medication, so it is now literally just a waiting game, until they hear back from the psychiatrist. To top it off, I had the opticians yesterday morning (at 9am on a Saturday!? Why Daddy!?), which was such an exhausting experience when you’re already struggling mentally. There were so many tests, so many people coming and going, so much waiting around and periods of time where I was by myself. I found it really difficult to maintain my concentration and found my thoughts start racing, which heightened my anxiety. This was only exacerbated when the optometrist concluded from my tests that my eyesight had deteriorated; I had become more short-sighted and had developed a condition called ‘snail track degeneration’. This is basically where the retina is stretched, leaving it thinner and more prone to tears and holes. And of course, my mind went into overdrive. ‘I’m going to have a hole in my eye! How can I prevent this from happening? How do I know if this happening? Will I lose my eye? Omg, they’ll have to remove my eye! I’ll have to have a glass eye put in or wear an eye patch for the rest of my life!’ …needless to say, I started this weekend in a bit of an anxious funk.

Until my Daddy suggested a trip down to the coast. Now, I absolutely bloody love the beach. Being by the sea is one of my happy places; I find it so calming, relaxing and destressing and always leave feeling fresher and more energised. I jumped at his offer, into the car and we set off down to Ferring beach.

Normally on these walks, although I am enjoying my time at the coast, my head remains pretty loud and I continue to ruminate over everything from my week, as well as upcoming tasks or events. My mind never stops; my thoughts are constantly racing. So I thought I would try something different with this visit, by having a go at practising some mindfulness to keep me more grounded in the present. Anytime my thoughts started to distract me, I would instead focus on one of my senses and describe in my head what I could hear, see, smell, taste or feel. It went a little something like this:

 

The lion’s roar as the wave swells and rushes towards the sand, collapsing into a sudden crash when it hits the shoreline. The foam spreads around your feet, sounding like you’re walking on bubble wrap, before the water finally recedes, creating a skittering of pebbles as they are dragged back towards the depths.

The cold tingling as the sea splashes spray on your face, leaving its salty taste on your lips.

The marbled rocks and shells create a beautiful mosaic along the front, crunching underfoot with every step you take. Various shades of brown, black, cream, white, blue and green can be seen, as I scan the ground, combing for interesting shells.

The vibrant green algae clinging to the damp wood of the groyne, which has been worn and weathered by the brute strength of the sea. Deep, dark cracks run along its structure, its once shiny metal bolts have rusted to a burnt orange, while rocks thrown by the sea have pocked the surface of its panels with numerous dents and scratches.

Seagulls squawk relentlessly, soaring and circling overhead, as they scour for any scrap of food to satisfy their appetites.

The sunshine finally breaks through the murky clouds, reflecting its light off the surface of the water, creating a sea of dazzling diamonds.

 

By bringing myself back into the present, I left the beach feeling so much calmer and collected than usual and more connected to my surroundings. The traffic in my head had also become significantly less busy and loud. While sometimes it took me a while to realise I was getting distracted by my thoughts, I had definitely improved in noticing them and redirecting my focus slightly quicker, by the time we’d finished our stroll. This technique really helped to improve on my mood and lower my anxiety levels, so I will definitely be implementing this into more of my everyday activities, to strengthen my ability to keep focus; as the saying goes, ‘practice makes perfect’. I’m hoping that with a little bit of brain training, this technique will become second nature to me, helping to lessen the power of my thoughts and allow me to observe them, rather than having them controlling me.

 

I always love to hear your suggestions and experiences, so…

What mindful techniques work well for you? Which ones aren’t so useful? How do you incorporate them in your daily life? When, where and how often do you practise mindfulness? Let me know in the comments!

Negative Effects: My List of Triggers

When it comes to looking after my mental wellbeing, I’m a bit of a rookie. I’m still exploring and discovering new ways that will hopefully help me to ride out the storms when those clouds set in. But I have started noticing more than a few things that definitely do not help me and can at times, even trigger my depressive states and anxious mind. So here is my list of things that make me worse and that I should definitely try to avoid:

Caffeine

As a stimulant, mixing this with anxiety is a recipe for disaster. I am the biggest tea addict out there and love a hot, steaming cup of Joe from time to time as well. But with that warm and cosy love in a mug, also comes heart palpitations and the shakes. After just the one cup of the good stuff I allow myself when I wake up each morning, it is then over to the decaf and herbal teas to whet my appetite.

Alcohol

While I’m out on the town, alcohol is my best friend. It lowers my inhibitions and dulls the noises in my head, so I’m more easily able to handle the crowded places and keep my anxiety at bay. Fast forward to the morning after the night before and boy, do we have a whole different situation. I am plunged down, deep into the darkest recesses of my mind, all the while wracked with anxiety over what I might have said or done last night. The morning after, alcohol is definitely not my friend.

Darkness

I have always hated the dark. Not knowing what might be lurking in the shadows or worse still, seeing shapes in the dark that trick your mind into thinking someone or something is there. The dark makes me nervous, makes me worry, and makes my heart pound.

Being Cold

I am that person who is always cold. I am that person who is always complaining about the cold. The cold makes me miserable. I hate the cold.

Winter

This is my least favourite season. The darkness comes for us earlier. The cold becomes bitterer. Then there’s the pressures of the holiday festivities. The anti-climax of New Years. It affects my mood, my motivation, my daily activities. All I want to do is hibernate under my duvet and wait for the warmth of the summer’s sun to break through the icy gloom.

Struggling to Sleep

For as long as I can remember, I have struggled with my sleep. I can lie in bed for hours, tossing and turning, getting evermore frustrated, hot and bothered that I cannot sleep. In this time, where there is nothing to distract my wandering mind, I find the intrusive thoughts I managed to repress down during the day, start creeping back into my consciousness. These thoughts start racing, flashing through my mind all at once and overloading my brain. It becomes too much. My heart beats faster. I start sweating. Start shaking. Cue the heart attack.

Social Media

After anything I decide to post online, I become obsessed. Obsessed with checking for likes. Checking for comments. Checking for any means of validation, any reassurance that it was a good idea to upload it. I know this is not healthy. Neither is mindlessly scrolling through the endless posts of boastful statuses, happy faces, exciting life updates; these illusions of the perfect life, when you’re feeling the worst version of yourself. It is not healthy. And it is certainly not helpful.

News

The world is going to shit. It is so depressing. And we are constantly reminded of this fact, every day. *Bleep* another crisis. *Bleep* another disaster. *Bleep* another update on the current disaster. *Bleep* remember that old crisis? It’s started back up again! Sometimes, it’s too much to handle. But sometimes, it’s ok to switch off from it for a while. For your own sanity.

Making Decisions

I am the most indecisive person to ever set foot on this planet. What do I want to eat? I don’t know. What do you want to watch? I don’t know. What are you going to wear? I don’t know. Where shall we go? I don’t know. What do you…I DON’T KNOW, OK!? I find decision making unbelievably difficult and panic-inducing, it is just much simpler and less stressful if someone else makes all of life’s decisions for me.

Public Transport

There is so much not to like about public transport. Particularly buses. But also trains. Not getting a seat and worrying the whole journey that you’ll fall into someone. Or the floor. Having to sit next to a complete stranger who might try talking to you at any moment. Having to stand when it’s so crowded and being squashed into the sweaty armpit of the nearest bystander. Missing your stop. Having to ask the person sat next to you to move so you can get off at your stop. That person getting up way before your stop and you having to stand and walk down the aisle while it is still moving, worrying the whole way you’ll fall into someone. Or the floor. Having to push through the crowd of people to get off. PANIC.

Going Anywhere by Myself

What if something happened? Who would be there to help, to calm me down? I feel vulnerable. Exposed. Like people are watching me. Will attack me. There’s safety in numbers.

Not Washing my Hair

I hate washing my hair with a passion. A passion that burns brighter than the fire of a thousand suns. It takes so much dedication. Commitment. So much effort. You have to shampoo. Wash it out. Then shampoo again. Then wash it out. Again. Then condition. Wait. Wash it out. Leave it to dry? Blow dry it? (Ahhhh decisions!!) Decide to blow dry. NO, leave to dry. Apply hair product. Style. It is just so time-consuming. But when I don’t wash my hair? My confidence drops. And self-esteem. I feel sluggish. Lazy. Unattractive. I get an itchy scalp. So. Much. Grease. My partner looks at me, disgusted. In the long run, it’s worth the effort for my mental wellbeing.

Being Ill

When I feel physically under the weather, my anxiety reaches maximum intensity. It induces my hypochondria, so every symptom I experience, I start imagining the worst possible outcome. Every outcome leads to me eventually dying. These intrusive thoughts start pulling me back into my depressive state, which is further heightened by having to rest up. By bingeing on TV shows and hiding under my duvet, I’m putting myself back into the situations I relate with my worst periods of mental health. This association with negative coping patterns then just creates this ongoing vicious cycle, I struggle to break. Being ill is just the worst.

Disrupted Sleep

I love sleep. And I really need my beauty sleep. I become so irritable and groggy if I don’t get at least eight hours. I can’t think straight. My thoughts become jumbled and those unpleasant ones start getting louder. I stop caring about everything and lack all motivation and energy to do anything. I feel more despondent, sensitive and emotional, leading me to spiral down into my lonely pit of depression.

Phone Calls

I’d much rather just text. I get all awkward and stuttering over the phone. I struggle not being able to see the person and read off their facial expressions and body language. And I always immediately hang up when it goes to voicemail. If I have to leave I message, I have to rehearse it at least five times I call up again. It’s just a whole panicked mess. Please, just text me.

Mess

A messy space equals a messy mind. When our flat is in a disarray, it stresses me out and puts me in a bad mood. I can’t focus on anything else, until those thoughts of untidiness leak through into the untidiness of my life, creating a domino effect. Living in a clean and organised environment helps to clear these thoughts away and keep them at bay.

Being Ignored

When someone doesn’t answer my calls or has seen my message but hasn’t replied, it sends me into a mental meltdown. Why are they answering me? What have I done? Do they not like me? Have I said something wrong? I will overthink every message I have sent them, every situation I was with them, nit-pick over everything little thing to try to figure out why I’m being ignored. My anxiety spins out of control. I try to play it cool but inside, I am on fire. *Beep beep* oh, they’ve messaged me back. Panic over.

 

What are some of the things that have a negative effect on your mental wellbeing and what sort of strategies do you have in place to help alleviate the reaction? Let me know in the comments!

My Grandma, My Guardian Angel

In light of both Time to Talk Day on Thursday and World Cancer Day today, I thought it was very fitting to share this piece of my writing, for this week’s blog post. This was the hardest piece I have had to write so far, as it is very personal, very emotional and is an aspect of my life that I still struggle to physically talk about even now. Well, here goes nothing…

Monday 13^th April 2015. The day the Earth stood still. The day I went completely numb. Tuesday 5^th May 2015. The day my whole world crumbled. The day my heart was broken. The day I shattered into a million pieces.

Growing up, I felt like I only had the one set of grandparents. My dad’s dad passed away when my dad was only 17, long before I was born, so I never got to meet him. His mum, however, even though she has always lived in the semi-detached house literally attached to our family home, has never really bothered with us, ever. Luckily though, on the other side of the road, I had my wonderful Grandma and Grandad.

They were absolute superstars; the best grandparents anyone could ever wish for. They have had such a large presence throughout my life and were a massive influence in shaping the person I have grown up to be. During my childhood, I had the luxury of being able to visit and spend as much time with them as often as I liked, as they lived just across the road from us, and they relished spending the time with us. They would look after us when we were ill and off school, as they lived so close (even if I would do my Grandma’s head in singing the ‘Hallelujah’ chorus in the highest pitch I could). We frequently spent weekends and evenings over at their house and celebrated almost all special occasions together. They came to every birthday party and at New Years, we’d enjoy a night of games and laughter, while snacking on one of Grandma’s famous buffets. From time to time, we would also help them out in their pride and joy- their garden. They would have us watering and de-weeding the vegetable patch and flower beds or when they were ripe and ready, harvesting the array of fruits and vegetables they’d grown. Most weekends were spent at one of the ‘clubs’ they had started especially for us. With my Grandma, she taught us how to knit and crochet at her ‘Knitting Club’ and I would spend hours sat nattering with her, over our needles and balls of yarn. There was also ‘Sticker Book Club’, where she bought packs of stickers for us and we would then trade them amongst ourselves for the ones we wanted. With my Grandad, I had an exclusive club, just him and me. I remember walking into their dining room the one day to see my Grandad, sat at the table sorting through the new stamps he’d collected and sticking them into one of his many books. I was curious as to what he was doing and where each of the different stamps had come from. He allowed me to sit with him for the afternoon, explaining all about stamp collecting and showing me his volumes of stamp books. I was fascinated and from that point, it became our thing, no-one else was allowed.

 

They could never do enough for us; they went above and beyond every time and were always trying to make up for our lack of other grandparents. I have such fond memories of these times we spent together and I cherish them even more, now that they are all I have left.

My Grandad passed away in 2002 when I was 10 years old. It came as such a shock and I was absolutely devastated. I didn’t cope very well with his death at the time and don’t think I’ve fully come to terms with it even now. It felt like a huge piece of me had been ripped out my chest. I started feeling guilty, feeling like I should have spent more time with him in the weeks before and berating myself over not getting the chance to say goodbye properly. My Grandma was understandably in pieces over losing him and hated being alone in the house they had shared for almost 50 years. I absolutely adored my Grandad, but out of this tragedy, there was a silver lining: I became even closer to my Grandma.

All she wanted after his passing was some company in the house, so we ended up visiting her more often, to help her through the grief. I would spend afternoons just sat talking with her, putting the world to rights and her recounting memories of her past, over excessive amounts of tea and biscuits. After school, I would walk over to my Grandma’s house from the bus and we would sit, pens and paper at the ready, and play along to Countdown. We still knitted, crocheted and played Rummikub together as well. We would become so engrossed in conversation that we lost track of time, and so quite frequently, my visits only ended when my mum phoned over to let me know dinner was ready. New Years’ celebrations were alternated between our house and hers and we adopted a new Boxing Day tradition, where we would hold another Christmas Day, just with our Grandma. In 2009, I left home for university, and every week (then every month) without fail, I received a handwritten letter from my Grandma in the post. She sent 132 letters in total and I have kept every single one of them. Overall, she was just such an amazing person. She had the most beautiful soul and was so kind, caring, generous and compassionate. She was my hero, an incredible role model and my number one cheerleader when it came to sharing and celebrating achievements and any other good news. This is why she’s the star of this show. And also why 2015 completely broke me.

Monday 13^th April 2015. The day the Earth stood still. The day I went completely numb. I had just spent the weekend celebrating the marriage of my partner’s sister. It was a beautiful ceremony and the reception was filled with fun and laughter, so we were on quite a high in the days following. Until that phone call. An almighty bombshell that brought us crashing back down. My Grandma had the big ‘C’. Cancer. From the scans they had already seen, the doctors had given a ballpark figure of six months to a year. My mum told me they still had to run more tests though and were meeting to consult over her scans the following day, so they could give us more information on the Wednesday. I’ve never been very good at the waiting game and this was no exception. The 14^th was mine and my partner’s 2^nd anniversary and he had booked a night away at the luxurious Berwick Lodge in Bristol. The hotel was absolutely stunning and made for a gloriously romantic getaway…but the whole time was overshadowed by cancer. Cancer. I just couldn’t switch it off. My Grandma had cancer. I was preoccupied the whole time and felt panicked and on edge until we came home on the Wednesday. We’d not been back long before there was another phone call, another bombshell. There was nothing they could do. Due to her age, how much the cancer had spread and how aggressive it was, they couldn’t treat it. She was terminal. The cancer was going to kill her. The six months we previously had left, had now become three to four. I was absolutely inconsolable. This was the woman who, in my head, was invincible. She had survived the heartache of losing Grandad; she had been battling through depression; she had recovered from heart problems and had a pacemaker implanted; she fell down the stairs without a scrape or broken bone; she recuperated from breaking her arm after tripping over cobblestones in town. I know everyone dies at some point, but in my mind, she was going to live forever. She had endured so much, but had still come out fighting the other side. It was more than I could handle. I struggled to process the news and wrap my head around the fact that this was it; she would eventually die from the cancer. What made things worse, was that I was in my final year of university. At this point, I had my dissertation due in 4 weeks, a 2,500 word essay to write, a presentation to give, two translation pieces to complete and my final exams to revise for and sit in 6 weeks’ time. I simply could not go home at that point. But we had three to four months, so I made a plan: I would finish my last few weeks of lectures, complete all the outstanding deadlines in that time and then, once I handed in my dissertation, I would book the next available Megabus back home. I could spend one to two weeks back home with her, until I would need to head back to Cardiff and sit my exams, but then, I would be finished at university and could travel back home to stay for as long as was necessary. It was a solid plan. I felt much better about the situation I was in. We still had time. But as with all the best laid plans, they often go awry.

 

Sunday 3^rd May 2015. Another phone call. Another bombshell. Only three weeks after her diagnosis, I received the call that my Grandma had been taken into the hospice. She didn’t have long left. The nurses explained that everyone should come and start saying their goodbyes. This was it. The time had come and I wasn’t prepared. I’d been robbed of the time promised with her. This was too soon. It had all happened too fast. I wasn’t prepared. I wasn’t listening anymore, couldn’t listen to what my mum was saying. I was in total shock. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t speak. I passed the receiver over to my partner. I had to get it together. I couldn’t breathe. I had to get it together. My thoughts were racing. I had to get it together. I had to make another plan. In a daze, I sprang into action. I needed to get organised. I immediately emailed my personal tutor to inform her of my situation and applied for an extension to my dissertation deadline. I booked two seats on the first Megabus for the Monday morning. I marched through the flat, grabbing anything and everything, throwing it all into a suitcase. I was in autopilot. I needed to get organised. I had to get back in time, had to have our last chat, had to have that last Grandma hug. I struggled to sleep that night, worried I would be too late.

The next morning, we boarded the coach at 5:30am and we set off earlier than the scheduled time. I couldn’t be too late. At this point, sleep deprived and emotional, I was barely conscious. Barely registering anything. I popped my headphones in, drowning out as much of the noise in my head as possible. I spent most of the journey listening to Ed Sheeran’s ‘Photograph’ on repeat. This song always reminds me of my Grandma now. The words really struck a chord with me in this moment. “Wait for me to come home”. I was begging my Grandma to just hold on, praying to God not to take her just yet. Just wait for me to come home. I felt so anxious the whole way back. I just wanted to be back. To be at the hospice. Just wait for me to come home, Grandma. We finally arrived just after 10am.

As soon as I locked eyes on my mum through the sliding glass doors, I burst into tears. I was finally here, but I wasn’t prepared to do this. It was all just so overwhelming. I sat for a while with the rest of the family and calmed myself down, before mum lead me down the lengthy corridor to her room. It felt like I was walking to my doom. The closer we got, the faster my heart beat. And when she opened her door, the reality of my Grandma’s situation hit me full force in my chest and I really was not at all prepared for what I saw. I began hyperventilating, backing out of the room. I couldn’t believe it. The dream I had created of our last goodbye was broken. It had turned into a nightmare. A living nightmare. There would be no last chat. No big Grandma hug. I had missed my chance. She had deteriorated so quickly, so significantly, that now, all she could do was lie in that bed. She couldn’t move, couldn’t talk. She could just about breathe, but that was it. She looked so small in that bed. The cancer had completely ravaged her body. Her cheeks had sallowed and collapsed into her mouth, her body had wasted away. My heart broke; I was devastated. To this day, I regret not going back sooner. I will always regret not going back sooner. I just had to make the best out of a bad situation now, make the most of the very little time I had left with her. She was still breathing and we like to think she could still hear us, so I at least still had the chance to tell her everything I’d wanted to. That Monday passed in a blur. I spent the whole day with her, chatting to her, holding her hand, stroking her hair. I wanted to memorise every little aspect of her face. Every mole. Every line. Every wrinkle. I didn’t want to forget anything about her. We didn’t leave until gone 8pm that night and on the way back, I started making plans for what I would do the next day. I’d take a book in and read to her. I’d play her some music. I’d chat to her some more. I still had time. Until the phone woke us into consciousness early the next morning and suddenly, I didn’t.

Tuesday 5^th May 2015. The day my whole world crumbled. It was 3:45am. And she was gone. Just like that. And just like that, I broke. I shattered into a million tiny pieces. She was gone. There was no more time. There would be no more chats. No more Countdown. No more knitting. No more tea. She was gone. We rushed to the hospice to see her and have our final, heart wrenching goodbyes. The last time I would ever see her. The last time I would ever hug her. The last everything. I was in pieces. I was broken. She was gone. And all around me was darkness.

This day marked the beginning of the fastest downhill spiral I have experienced. Before this, I was just about keeping my head above water, just about staying afloat. Until this emotional anchor attached itself onto me, drowning me, dragging me down into the darkest and deepest depths of this ocean, until I could no longer breathe. I could no longer live. This was the point I completely plummeted straight down into my depression. At the time though, I didn’t realise. I thought I was just enduring the motions of grief. Just trying to process everything that had happened. Trying to bear losing my beloved Grandma.

I struggled through this for just over two years, along with the further events that passed in that time, before I finally sought help. I just couldn’t cope anymore. I was broken and I needed fixing. I’m still sifting through my broken shards, still attempting to piece myself back together. I know this will take a while, but I’m finally in a place where this is possible. Things don’t seem so dark anymore; there’s finally a light shining at the end of the tunnel. I now know I can work through this, process this and deal with this properly. My Grandma may be gone physically, but she is still with me spiritually, wherever I go and in whatever I do. This brings me some comfort and helps me through the darker days. She can never truly leave me when her memories fill my thoughts and her love is carried in my heart. Every day, I aspire to be just like her, so she will always live on as a part of me. She lives on in the legacy she left behind. My Grandma will always be by my side. Always be a part of me. The guardian angel watching over me. Forever.

Until we meet again…