I got some news last month. I have held this post like a boiled sweet in my mouth. Moving it side to side, let it melt for a moment to understand the complexity, the flavour, for I know my thoughts might not be how others feel or accept. A friend has passed away. I say friend, but in all honesty with life and busyness and stuff we very rarely spoke now. On paper we should have been each others support. They had fibro too. Life has rolled some punches and mental health has kicked their arse. Such common ground. We … Continue reading “The French exchange”
Category: Chronic pain
Do you know who I am?
Do you recognise me? Do you know who I am? This feeling of amnesia. I remember the old me. The business woman. The unstoppable force that could turn her hand to anything. Rotting lean-to? I rebuilt that in a week. Leaking toilet? I refitted the whole washroom over a weekend. A wasteland turned into a beautiful garden. That was me too. And then my body broke. It took a long time to adjust. The pattern of overdoing it, then suffering in pain and frustration. Oh that pain. It made me want to scream each time it hit. But my mind … Continue reading “Do you know who I am?”
My brain is broken
Yesterday I attended an appointment I’ve been waiting for since April. It’s been canceled a couple of time, and in my mind there was a lot riding on it. Maybe I put too much emphasis on this meeting.T he meeting was with a specialist to discuss my medication and potentially give me a diagnosis that would change the way my treatment plan moving forward would look like. Ahead of the meeting I spent time with my mental health nurse to check in how my week had been and to check in with how I was feeling in regards to the … Continue reading “My brain is broken”
I used to be
I’ve met quite a lot of new people in the past 10 months. And I find myself uttering the same phrase over and over again. I used to be; First I met new work colleagues, then counsellors and therapist. Now strangers in different support groups. And they always ask what bought you here. When I was younger, my ‘used to be ‘ was for shock effect. I used to be a gravedigger. And it’s true. When I first left school from June to September every day I went to work with my dad to help. I was 15 years old, … Continue reading “I used to be”
I’m sitting on the sofa crying again
I’m sitting on the sofa crying. No one really seems to be noticing. I’ve already cried in the shower today and cried again when I went up to the loo. I just sat there sobbing. I’m not really sure what I’m crying for. This morning I got up with every intention to tackle the front yard. No mow May is well and truly over and quite frankly it’s become completely out of control. I got up, dressed according and headed down on a mission. Just walking down the stairs was hard enough. I was completely out of puff. I took … Continue reading “I’m sitting on the sofa crying again”
Feeling violated
I’m feeling stressed and very unsafe. I’m due to have a meeting at work soon. Trying to convince them to keep my job open. The GP has currently signed me off for 2 months. But I really want to be back sooner. My GP has agreed to amend the sicknote if I can work from home for 3 days a week. A slow reintroduction to work. But work aren’t interested in allowing me to have that flexibility. Work have requested copies of my medical notes. They’ve taken 4 weeks to be sent through to me, ahead of being sent to … Continue reading “Feeling violated”
The Phoenix
Work has been playing on my mind. They’ve requested a copy of my medical records. The occupational therapist has suggested I start back with a month of 3 days work from home. I’ve sent them everything from the mental health teams I’ve been working with, but they’re still holding out. Or maybe just waiting for my sicknote to end. Either way I am anxious. And the anxiety is making me think they don’t want me back. In the past I have been on my knees so many times wondering how I will get through. Not just with work, but with … Continue reading “The Phoenix”
20 mins of gardening equals 3 days of punishment and pain
I’m in an unsafe place today. I don’t feel I will do anything, but I don’t feel I should be alone. My heart is heavy and I feel like all that will help is to cry, the kind of crying where the sobs are guttural and uncontrollable. My babies are due home in a couple of hours. I wanted to be more like my old self again before they came home, but that expectation is out of reach. All I can give them is the broken person I have become. No further into my recovery from when they left on … Continue reading “20 mins of gardening equals 3 days of punishment and pain”
Fake Happy
As a gift I bought my daughter tickets to see one of her favourite bands performing at the O2. They’ve not played live for a few years so it was a big thing. A big thing that was arranged before my mental health had a downward spiral. I felt I owed it to her to paint on the smile and continue with the plan. And I did literally paint on the smile. Rainbow eyeshadow. Make myself look like I was participating in the excitement of the day. The drive up was dreadful. It was teaming down with rain and my … Continue reading “Fake Happy”
When I grow up I want to be a mummy
Growing up whenever anyone asked me what I wanted to be I’d tell them proudly I wanted to be a mum. It was the only thing that mattered to me. My dolls in their pushchairs were never far away. I was going to have one called Megan and one called Elenore and we would spend our days doing craft projects, exploring nature and giggling all the time. But it didn’t really work out like that. First off my baby girl didn’t look like a Megan. And from 6 weeks old I was left bringing her up on my own as … Continue reading “When I grow up I want to be a mummy”