It’s never enough

I naively thought that recovery was straight forward.

step one; admit you have a problem

Step two; ask for help

step three; get help

step four; get better…..boom! job done!

No apparently not. Recovery is not straight forward. No matter how much I want it to be. I have many days where I feel absolutely brilliant and then boom! I feel rubbish. I feel like I’m slipping back into a spiral of ‘I’m not good enough’, ‘you have nothing and mean nothing’, ‘rubbish ,rubbish, rubbish!’ However I have difficulty accepted that I can just feel crap sometimes…I automatically presume I have some sort of mental illness. I slip into a habit of not making my own decisions and to let people influence how I behave and what I do.

 

Recovery is a bitch! it lures you in to a safe sense of being and then wallops you in the face with a giant fish! I have genuine everyday grown up problems and my way of dealing with it is being a drama queen and giving up.

I should be happy with my progress if I’m completely honest. I can now get up and out of bed now without any issues. I went into central London and went on the tube (Big, big, big achievement for me). I am better, I am feeling better….just sometimes I want to sit in my pjs and sulk. That’s not too much to ask is it?

Na na na na na na na na Batman!

Yes I am a grown woman, eating muesli in bed ,watching Netflix in my Batman pjs.

Yes you are correct, I have had a bad day (and yes I am awesome).

I sort something out, I feel better, I start to succeed….something goes wrong.

I have no money, I am struggling to stay a float financially……. and it’s lady time*

*period time not a time ladies take for themselves to do what they want which is what my eight year old Kate thought (I bloody wish!)

I am hoping it’s just the lady time blues.

I woke up very late, I bummed around in my pjs.

I got pissed off with myself and got dressed and non stop cleaned and sorted out some of my house.

I paused for singing, dancing, tickling and creating snail hotel’s in the back yard.

I had a bad day but allowed in the good.

I felt low but I picked myself up and carried on.

I did it because I am a grown up and I am awesome.

I did it for me, I did it for Biff ,I did it for Kate.

I carried on and saw the good in the bad.

And lets face it…..who doesn’t feel good in batman pjs?

It’s not what it looks like

It’s not what it looks like

I do not have an eating disorder…….

I’m just going to leave this here. And I want you to read it back when you start to think I do.

I do not.

I do however have a complicated relationship with food.

I have finally cleared through the anxiety fog and I need to put on weight. Two years of panic attacks and constant anxiety are going to leave their mark somehow.

However I have noticed that my negative thoughts determine my eating pattern and I am happy to say that I nipped it in the bud.

I had a lovely day with Biff and Kate when BAM! I got home to bad news. After feeling a little hopeless I got dinner in the oven and went to my safe place ( the shower) to clear my head. After I returned in my new awesome pj’s I realised I didn’t make myself any dinner.

So apparently during my darker days (panic and anxiety) I withheld things I needed in some sort of punishment. ‘You are useless and you don’t deserve care’, is what it was ultimately saying.

My panic and anxiety withheld self care.

Luckily meds and a bit of positivity ensured that I made myself dinner.

Although the day brought bad news and more things to sort out I know that I am winning.

Up yours troll!

When you wish upon a star

Five weeks ago I asked for help and that is when my life truly began. In this short amount of time I have actually lived my life, done some things I always seemed to put off. I accept the person I am instead of the person I thought I should have been. I am smiling, having fun and making friends. I have time for myself, my family and others. My relationship with my mum is striving and I truly believe I can have the life I have always wanted. I can finally accept myself as those around me who love me already have. I have made small steps and differences….I know in time that these will develop. My small successes will become bigger, will become great. I accept others around me for exactly who they are and now I am able to give myself the same respect. I am unique, I am loved, I am accepted, I am me.

Battlefield

I feel calmer and a little bit more me. I still have anxious moments ,which in life we all have. Now instead of complete panic attacks i have tiny bursts of sheer terror and it subsides so quickly i am never sure if it is really there. The bad ,negative thoughts are less and they were almost obsessive at times. I couldn’t go one waking moment without having to belittle and berate myself. I no longer feel like my world is spinning and i am starting to make sense of myself.

But i am so terrified that this is all temporary. That i have made no progress and have done no real work. Is it just the meds talking? I am worried that when i finally come off them that i will plunge deep into despair. Am i really getting better or have i got better at masking the problem. And why can’t i just be happy i finally feel some peace?

Counselling and meds……..can they really help? Is this really the answer? I don’t want to be dependant on the chemical feel good but i was dependant on the despair.

I feel like at my worst i am at war with myself. Which side will win? Chemical weapons or negotiations? Why can i not believe that this is a team effort and not a solitary battle? This is just the last hurdle and not the bigger picture….not the actual fight. It’s been a good two years and i do not want to surrender but i do not want to fight. I want to lay my weapons aside and go home.

Learning to drive

I am learning to do this both literally and emotionally. Everyday is a new hurdle to jump over and a new lesson to learn. There is no set list on emotional driving, no mirror ,signal ,maneuverer.

I thought i was falling into the abyss of despair yesterday. I awoke, my heart pounding, i was as scared as a little girl. I thought i was being dragged backwards into my downward spiral. You see, now that i am trying to recover i have to relearn feelings. I have to learn how to recognise thoughts and feelings that would normally plunge me into panic.

Molly and the meds- Day 6 (anxiety)

I felt you. I was listening to my friend talk and i felt you start to prickle my skin. I tried to ignore it. I tried to focus on what she was saying. You started to rise. You were impatient .You don’t like being ignored. You don’t want to be beaten. You prickled my entire body until i yelped out load, in the middle of the street. I couldn’t have been any safer, standing on the pavement with my friend. But you made me sense danger and i tried to resist. I yelped and then hid my face in my scarf. A grown woman scared being comforted by her friend in the middle of the street ,protecting her from something invisible. Normally i would spend all day thinking about you. I hear you in my head telling me i can’t cope and i will panic. But you know? If I’m thinking about it, then you are not winning. I am questioning my emotions……i am challenging you. You don’t want me to win, you don’t want me to feel better, I have been your prisoner for so long. What exactly would you be without me? You would be nothing, you wouldn’t exist, you would be worthless to me. You ARE worthless to me and you will fade and disappear one day as deflated as you have made me feel. You may have reared your dark ,ugly face today but my head is still up higher then it was before. I am a person not a problem and you are a pest. You may have caught me in a moment today but that is all it was…..a moment. As fleeting as any other moment. You were here but now you are not. You will come back……but then you will be gone again. You may have me yelping in fear for ten minutes but at the end of it i am still standing, i am still going and i am still alive.

Molly and the meds

I was reluctant, i did not want to do it. Asking for help did not seem like an option. I had pushed on for two years and didn’t want to believe there was a problem.

This week i felt powerful. This week i felt ready. Too long have i listened to the negative thoughts that inundate my mind and take over my life. Pushed and weighed down by my thoughts and imagination. This was a battle i had waged on myself and only i could defeat my inner troll.

This week i asked for help. I did not admit defeat, i declared war. I armed myself and prepared to take off my armour. For this fight takes willpower but it also courage.

This week i reluctantly decided to start meds to treat my anxiety. I spent the next day anxious and in turmoil with the thought of treating it this way. I had already come so far by myself and i was feeling better. I just needed a little help over the last hurdle.

I am not ashamed and nor should i be. I am not giving up, i am not giving in. I need help and i am a stronger person for asking.

Three days in and i already feel better. It is not the meds, it is the knowledge that i can and will get better.

Fundamental (Fun-da-mental)

Fun makes me mental

I am not fun. I have suspected for some time and I had it confirmed, not once, but twice this week. I can see the argument to support the statement in my case. I can take a fun experience and make it into the most terrifying event in the entire world. For example; going to the zoo. Sounds fun right? What if i have a panic attack while i’m out? What if i fall sick? What if i can’t find a toilet? The zoo is really expensive. What if the kids don’t have fun? The journey is really long. I don’t like the underground, i’m scared of the escalator. How far do they go down anyway? What happens if i’m sucked onto the track in front of the tube as it rushes past?…..these are a selection of the thoughts that encompass my mind when thinking about something you would consider fun.

I am not all doom and gloom. I like fun. I need fun. I deserve to have fun.

Do you not think i would love to approach activities with an open mind ,a positive attitude and a carefree smile? Do you not think that the woman who is referee ,cleaner and caretaker of kiddies deserves some time off? It may seem fun to you but it presents a whole list of things to overcome for me. Give the fraidy cat a chance .If you ever see me having fun please note how brave i was to get there