Category Archives: Mental Health

Day 5 – Struggling to exercise.

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If like me this morning, you struggle to exercise, find your motivation. Motivation is the key to so many goals in life, finding the right one for you is personal. What makes others do things may not work for you. So, spend a bit of time thinking about it, the more motivated you are the more likely you are to suceed. But remember, your motivation may change over time. Take note of if you are tiring of something, check in with yourself and see if your motivation has changed.

On this occasion, my motivation was to walk properly again. I was going to say walk again but that sounds altogether to dramatic but at the time that is was it felt like. After my climbing accident and faulkeson osteotmy, the delights of which I will share with you another day. I was told it would take a year to heal and for the screws in my shin to be fully set. I left hospital with a leg brase and a zimmer frame. Came home to my recently installed chair lift, at the ripe age of 33 and wondered how on earth I would get through this.

To begin with my physio ecersices were very basic and very very painful but my motivation, fortunately outweighed the pain. I was going to walk again, even if it killed me. Not sure that would have benefited anyone but nonetheless, that’s how determined I was. Before I had the surgery, I was told one leg would now, likely be shorter than the other, I may never walk properly again, have a limp and possibly end up in a wheel chair. I slowly and calmly looked at the consultant and said, “You don’t know me.” I don’t know about you but if someone says to me I won’t be able to do something, that alone can be enough motivation to prove them wrong.

Everyday, after the kids had gone to school and Murray to work, I lay alone in bed, that was until our magnificent Rhodesian Ridgeback, Rio, sauntered up the stairs and lay at the end of the bed, on the floor that is, he was so large he would have crushed me had he actually got on the bed and my plight would have been infinitely worse. The dogs weren’t allowed upstairs but Rio was a) a law unto himself and b) clearly knew I needed the support. 

One of my exercises was to place a rolled up hand towel under my knee, lift my heel off the bed until my leg was straight. I hadn’t been able to do this since the accident, 18 months beforehand. It had taken that long for the problem to be diagnosed. When I fell, my knee cap had been knocked out of alignment and the tracking was out, the aim of the operation was to fix the issue. Shin bone sawn in half, knee cap moved, two screws to secure it in place, the jobs a gooden.

I pulled myself up to a sitting position, lent up against the padded blue headboard, looked ahead of me at the full length mirrors on the wardrobe doors. I hated the fact they were they, I was staring at myself, watching me fail. I tended to do the exercises looking down so I couldn’t catch sight of my reflection. Weirdly, it became a useful choice as I would stare at my kneecap, imagine it moving the way it needed to, visualize my quad muscle springing into action and think how it would feel for my heel to rise. My quad hadn’t sprung into action since the accident, the muscle atrophy was extensive, the largest part of my thigh was now only thirteen inches in circumference, thats thirty three centimetres, which is, currently, the size of my calf muscle. I had a long way to go and the only way to do that, a minute at a time.

I sat there, staring down at my withering leg and attempted a heel lift. I had sweat running down my side where my armpits were leaking. Tears running down my cheeks where my eyes were leaking. My face was contorted, I was groaning, retching, squirming, swearing and my butt was sinking deeper into the mattress under the strain, so much so I thought I would become engulfed. All this to no avail. My heel was still steadfastly stuck to the bed. I wrapped the belt from my dressing gown around the ball of my foot and pulled the heel off the bed. This at least proved that the function was possible. I used all my might, every bit of brain power, (remember I had no leg power) I had to hold my leg there, released the belt and wallop it slammed back down on the bed. Hopeless!

“Rio” I whimpered. My beloved, dog, whose grandeur never failed to impress, arose from his slumber, stretched and sauntered (he loved to saunter) around the bed so his face was next to mine. Looked at me from under his heavy eyebrows as if to say, “You got this mum.” And I hugged him, felt his warm breath and reassuring smell, halitosis, all was not lost, some things never change. I released my grip looked deep into his soul and thanked him. He knew his job was done, reversed, (there wasn’t enough room for him to turn his vast stature around), went back to the end of the bed. Curled up and went straight to sleep. His gentle snore filling the air. I sat back up, stared back down at my knee and started again.

If you would like to join me on this journey, please like, subscribe and comment. If you make a comment, please explain what it was that made you feel that way.

Thanks, Liz

If you have stumbled across my blog and are thinking “Day 5 of what? Have a quick read of this explanation:

I have set myself a challenge and need your help, (please).

For anyone reading my posts who has a story in them they are struggling to tell. I would recommend getting Anne Lamott’s book ‘Bird by Bird’. It has inspired me to create this challenge and is full of great knowledge and insight. She also has a wonderful sense of humour and writing style.

If you would like to buy ‘Bird by Bird’, please feel free to use my Amazon associate link: https://amzn.to/47Pdkx7

Day 4 – Where is my smile?

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Why is it we use so much energy to hide our true emotions? Is it because when we were little we were told not to cry or as a toddler when we were raging we were berated. Maybe I should rephrase the first sentence. Why is it we use so much energy to hide our negative emotions? Because it seems absolutely fine to be happy, “Just smile and the world will smile with you.” At my worst, when smiling just about never happened. I would have gladly punched anyone who said that to me. And they did. A lot!

How the fuck can you smile when you are being eaten from the inside out. When you are planning ways to rid yourself of your miserable existence. When your reflection repulses you. On that note, looking in the mirror to smile only compounded the issue, I don’t like my smile. My eyes shut, my mouth drops down on one side and I have vampire teeth. At times I am too scared to smile at children because so often in the past, when I have, they have cried and I was convinced it was my teeth scaring them. It happened so often my daughter used to say “Mum don’t smile at them, you’ll make them cry.” Can you imagine of all the things in your live to be fearful of, your smile is one of them. 

Incredulous.

Not sure if that’s the right word but it sounded cool. Please help me out here if a) it is the right word b) if not, what would work?

I didn’t smile much as a youngster, or at least it felt as if I didn’t. I remember once, (which before I start could be inaccurate as our memories serve to deceive us). We had a family friend who said to my mum, “If only Liz smiled more, she’s so pretty when she smiles.” I get it now with my acting, I am not sure I have ever smiled on film, all the characters I play don’t smile. Even in the comedies I do on stage, I don’t smile – all dead pan humour. Which I love by the way, it just seems sad somehow. Interestingly though, one time on a course in LA, we met an agent who had asked us to bring along our headshot so he could let us know whether they were right for us. My teacher from the UK had chosen mine, unsurprisingly, no smile. We didn’t get round to showing the photos until near the end, before than we had all been listening intently, laughing, at all his jokes and anything else he said too, I imagine, we were there to impress we wanted him to like us (that’s another story). We told our own anecdotes and generally had fun. When I showed him my photo, he said, “That is so wrong for you, you look like a hard bitch but you’re not like that at all.”

Why do I look like a hard bitch? Why haven’t I smiled my whole life? Was I born depressed. Is that even possible? 

As a child I often felt so miserable, particularly at school. As I write this, my heart rate has quickened, I have a lump in my throat and I am struggling to swallow my eyes are welling up, my palms are sweaty and I haven’t even told you anything about it yet. Just the mere thought of school has a hideous effect on me. 

I was a boarder. My first bed room was the size of a cupboard with 2 bunk beds separated by a door width. From what I can remember that was it, enclosed in an ever decreasing box. That can’t have been it, where did I put my clothes? But that’s how I remember it, walls closing in on me, the maroon eiderdown weighing heavily on my heart. It smelt damp and was Baltic, when I got undressed in the morning I would have a sharp intake of breath like you do when you jump into cold water. I used to get dressed under the covers and then wait there until the last second before going down for breakfast. 

I would shut my tear soaked eyes and then open them again quickly because I was scared the bunk above my head would crash down on me. As I lay there in the dark, I could hear the gentle sobs of the three other girls in the room, we were all nine years old and alone. Two of my room mates came from Sierra Leone, they didn’t go home, they didn’t see their parents from one moth to the next. That caused my heart to break even more than it was already broken. Who does that to their child? Sends them away to another country when they haven’t even reached double figures. I am sure they do it for the child’s best interest but is it really? The chances are that child will be traumatised for the rest of their lives. Is that in their best interest? I think not.

I had a teddy. Oh fuck, that’s it I am off now, tears are filling my glasses and my keyboard is all blurry.

I had a teddy, that a family friend had so carefully made for me. I would hold him tight, rub my face into his gentle fur and my tears would flow. He would be soaked, heavy and cold under the weight of my sadness. I felt so alone, teddy was my only friend. He had my name tape sewn into the back of his neck. That in itself made my heart heavy, that must have hurt him, when we sewed it on. I still have teddy, I think he is in the loft somewhere, hidden away like my memories.

If you would like to join me on this journey, please like, subscribe and comment. If you make a comment, please explain what it was that made you feel that way.

Thanks, Liz

For anyone reading my posts who has a story in them they are struggling to tell. I would recommend getting Anne Lamott’s book ‘Bird by Bird’. It has inspired me to create this challenge and is full of great knowledge and insight. She also has a wonderful sense of humour and writing style.

If you would like to buy ‘Bird by Bird’, please feel free to use my Amazon associate link: https://amzn.to/47Pdkx7

If you have stumbled across my blog and are thinking “Day 4 of what? Have a quick read of this explanation:

I have set myself a challenge and need your help, (please).

Day 3 – Crying

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If you have stumbled across my blog and are thinking “Day 3 of what?), have a quick read of this explanation:

I have set myself a challenge and need your help, (please).

I woke up this morning shiting myself. What the bloody hell have you done Liz? Talk about putting pressure on yourself. Writing everyday was hard enough but putting it out there for the world to see – nutter!

Hey ho, me and my decisions. I am still excited to see where this takes me, as well as terrified.

Not only was I shitting myself this morning, I was also a little hungover. Last night, Murray, my husband, Holly, my step daughter and I went out to dinner. The table was booked for 7pm so we left early to go to a local bar first, only to find it was shut. We had forgotten it was a bank holiday so most places on the island were closed. We had also forgotten we were going out to dinner. Fotunately, they sent us an email reminder. We thought it was tonight. Funny isn’t it when you are on holiday that your mind turns to mush and you have no idea what day it is. Every day is a wekend, yay!

On arrival to the restaurant, very early that is, we were greeted by less than friendly reception staff. I started to explain why we were early, they stopped me dead and said, “You’re table is ready.” “Oh,” I thought, “no time for chit chat then, sorry to have inconvenienced you.” Both ladies had expressionless faces and stood so rigid I thought perhaps they had both been afflicted with poles up their arses. I felt like saying, “Don’t worry about dinner, it’s clearly just our money you’re after, here just take my credit card and be done with it.” I thought better of it.

Which was the sensible option. We went on to have a delicious meal, tuna tartare and fillet steak, cooked beautifully. Accompanied by some decadent red wine, Murray is a bit of a wine connoisseur. Originally, we had planned on sitting on the roof top terrace for an after dinner whisky but decided against it because a) it was raining, b) we didn’t want to give them any more of our money and c) we had whisky back at the villa, for free, well not entirely, of course, we had paid for it at the airport. We weren’t planning on drinking all the owners spirits. Although that’s not a bad idea.

Back at home, I love how we adopt that expression when we are on holiday, clearly it is not our home and we have only been here for a week but it feels welcoming and reassuring so it feels right to call it home. We had a glass of wine first as it was only 8.30pm, last of the dirty stop outs, and we still had enough sense to not start the whisky at that stage. We were sat on the decking, listening to music, Cold Play, Death and all of his Friends. We were all jigging about, looked like we were having heart attacks but we were enjoying ourselves. Saying how much we loved the instrumental building in intensity with the final crescendo. At that exact moment the heavens opened and the downpour was sensational. We decided that who ever lives upstairs was in agreement with us. 

Then, for some absurd reason we decided to start playing songs that made us cry. Who chooses to do that (secretly, I bet you do). So there we are, all howling, priceless, what muppets. We all felt much better after that and put some happy tunes on. Funny isn’t it how cryning makes you feel so much better. Like your stresses and strains have left you. Albeit temporarily, until you see your reflection in the mirror that is and you notice your eyes are all red and blotchy and your face has swollen to the size of a footaball, which makes you start all over again. Aside from that, it’s great.

I am not known for crying, during my acting training this was the thing I struggled with most, it took 8 months to master it. All thanks to my amazing teachers in LA, Dianne and Lorrie Hull. I was elated, I had done it. Opened the flood gates that is. Bloody hell, I started crying at everything. I remember walking into Murray’s office and saying to him and Clarky, his office manager, I hate calling her that as she has worked for Murray for twenty years, is one of my best friends and is part of the family but at the end of the day that is her job tite. Where was I? Oh yes, I walked into the office having come through from the kitchen, where I had been bawling my eyes out, and announced “This bloody acting, I can’t stop crying” If only I had known what was coming. At that time, I thought I was crying a lot but then I became clinically depressed, oh dear, even Noahs ark wasn’t going to stop me from drowning.

If you would like to join me on this journey, please like, subscribe and comment. If you make a comment, please explain what it was that made you feel that way.

Thanks, Liz

For anyone reading my posts who has a story in them they are struggling to tell. I would recommend getting Anne Lamott’s book ‘Bird by Bird’. It has inspired me to create this challenge and is full of great knowledge and insight. She also has a wonderful sense of humour and writing style.

If you would like to buy ‘Bird by Bird’, please feel free to use my Amazon associate link: https://amzn.to/47Pdkx7

Day 2 – Alcohol

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If you have stumbled across my blog and are thinking “Day 2 of what?), have a quick read of this explanation:

I have set myself a challenge and need your help, (please).

Tomorrow is here. I am back. Although, tomorrow isn’t here, it never is, is it. Weird that. Nonetheless, it is today and I am writing again. In a strange mood. that happens sometimes. I am sure if it does for you too. I fear perhaps alcohol had a part to play. It has a funny effect on me. Turns me to the dark side, if I am not careful that is. I have spent years finding a level that I can work with. For a long time recovering from being suicidal I was terrified of the stuff. Too scared to drink it, or at least more than a glass. As time went on I managed to increase my intake without any obvious disasters and now I have a pretty good handle on it. Hang on a sec, I am just making some tea.

Have tea will travel. Oh and also have milk on my fingers and now my keyboard. If someone could tell me where that expression comes from I would be truly grateful. Have … will travel. What does it mean? No bloody idea. 

Anyway, back now, where was I. Oh yes, alcohol. Now I wouldn’t exactly say it was my nemesis, as in I was never a functioning alcoholic, I didn’t drink during the day but once I started, invariably on an empty stomach, I found it hard to stop, I know some people would argue that is exactly what an alcoholic is but in the years leading up to being suicidal and those in recovery I manage fine drinking and stopping, so I believe I am not an alcoholic. I felt the numbness quite soon, that was nice, for a bit and then the thoughts came. The dark ones. This was always the worst times when I was suicidal. It was bad enough during the day when I was sober but in the evening when I had been drinking my mind did a total number on me and I was on a downward spiral of destruction. This is all retrospective understanding I hasten to add. No bloody idea at the time. Just didn’t want to think or feel. Pain mainly. I didn’t want to feel my pain. Mental and physical. Although it was the physical I was acutely aware of. The mental crept up on me and took me by surprise. Never cried so much in my life. One night when I decided the alcohol wasn’t enough to numb the pain any more. I decided to raid my pant draw. No, I wasn’t planning on sticking pants in my mouth, duck taping it and scaring the shit out of myself. My pant draw, like the draw most people have in their kitchen, is also filled with a fuck ton of other stuff, most of which I will never use. No, I wasn’t searching for my best silk panties, which is handy as I don’t have any. I was searching for pain killers and lots of them.

I have had so many surgeries that my pant draw is normally full of enough stuff to take someone’s lights out and that was my plan. So, in anticipation I slid it open. Pushed back my selection of old, hard and frayed Primark pants to find four paracetamol. You are kidding me right? That’s not enough to take out a mouse let alone a human. All be it a skinny one. I fucking hate that phrase. Mainly because people use it to describe me. And it isn’t true. Yes, I am slim but I am lean, 20 years of physio therapy exercises and you get lean. Back to the paracetamol, skinny is for another day, as is girl, another one of my favourites – to hate that is. Four – for fucks sake (excuse the pun). I finally decide to put an end to it and I have already swallowed all the other pills. Fortunately, this actually made me laugh. the irony of it tickled my dying sense of humour and I said “fuck it”, laid down and went to sleep.

Well bugger me, over 600 today.

For anyone reading my posts who has a story in them they are struggling to tell. I would recommend getting Anne Lamott’s book ‘Bird by Bird’. It has inspired me to create this challenge and is full of great knowledge and insight. She also has a wonderful sense of humour and writing style.

If you would like to buy ‘Bird by Bird’, please feel free to use my Amazon associate link: https://amzn.to/47Pdkx7

If you would like to join me on this journey, please like, subscribe and comment. If you make a comment, please explain what it was that made you feel that way.

Thanks, Liz

At last, I have found the solution!

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I have had this deep seated feeling my whole life, that I am here to do more than I am doing. Alog with the pain I have been in, I believe it has been the root to a lot of my depression. A constant feeling than what I am doing is not enough, not my purpose and that frustration has left me feeling I have failed to achieve what I am here to do.

I have an inherent desire to help people, it is who I am, my make up as it were (well it would be if I wore any!) I get such pleasure from helping people, I seem to seek it out, it is like my drug fix, that rush you get when something feels really good.

However, on the flip side when I don’t get my ‘fix’ I start to go under, suffocate in my own need to help others. It isn’t a distraction technique, to avert attention from my self, although I did think it was for a while, it is genuinely my need and when your needs are not fulfilled, you are not happy, go figure!

It has literally driven me insane trying to find a way I can help people on a grand scale, I have done lots of one to one work which is great but is nowhere near what I want to achieve. The frustration in trying to work out how I can help lots of people simultaneously, has, at times been unbearable.

I am thrilled to say, at last, I have found the solution!

As well as writing my book, which I hope will help people, (to be brutally honest), want to stay alive! I am also creating an online course to help those suffering from chronic pain get more out of life.

My course is called:

The 30 Day Stay Sane Despite the Pain Challenge – The achievable step by step method to increase energy and reduce pain, (even when you’re sleep deprived).

I am in the process of fine tuning the course structure and have created a survey to make sure its’ contents provide people with the outcome they are looking for.

Below, is the link to the survey. If you have chronic pain and want a way to lead a better more enjoyable life, please complete it. Once you have, I will be in touch. https://04p76909hxd.typeform.com/to/MLRhKTg9

If you can think of anyone else you know who struggles with pain, please pass the survey on. Remember, I want to help as many people as I can, to do that I need to build a community of people who can relate with each other, a support network is one of the best ways to improve your life.

Thank you in advance and happy Friday, Liz

Laying Dormant

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I have been acutely aware of late that ‘Woman on the Edge’ has been taking a back seat in my life, as has my depression, has it gone or is it just laying dormant?

Sadly, I believe the latter to be true and isn’t it strange that as it seems to rear it’s ugly head once more, what is the first thing I turn to? My blog. Why is that I wonder? It doesn’t answer back, it’s not judgemental, I can be truthful, I am not afraid when I am writing? I don’t know for sure, probably all of them in varying degrees. Nonetheless, I am back and I apologise for my absence.

Not that I really need to, as the reason I started this blog in the first place was just for me as a release but it became apparent, over time, that my ramblings were being read by people all over the world, 22 countries to date, a massive shock to me I can tell you. Why is that, I wonder again? Unfortunately, I think it’s because depression is world wide and based on the messages I have received in the past, many people gained solace from reading my posts, so again I apologise if I haven’t been there for you when you needed me. I shall do better from now on.

Life in the last six months has been really very good for me, finally things both health and career wise have been great, well in comparison to how they have been in the past that’s for sure.  However, recently, the last month or so I guess, I haven’t been feeling quite right, can’t quite put my finger on it, no obvious reason, things still going well, in fact, better than that really, some things have been bloody brilliant. Finally getting good paid acting jobs, gone back to riding, galloping and jumping, feeling alive and free and yet something isn’t quite right. Wake up in the morning in a mood, what’s that all about? No apparent reason, cross, agitated, hot and bothered. I have gone back to heaving on my dog walks and lost weight but why?

Don’t you just love that question, why? We ask it as if we expect to be supplied with, not only the answer but also the solution, no such luck. Especially when depression has a hand in it. My husband and I have had a few conversations trying to work out what’s wrong. “Have you got a black cloud?” he asks “I don’t think so” I answer, genuinely. And yet I am perplexed as to what is making me feel this way – answers on a postcard!

I fully understand that depression never really leaves you and that you deal with it by maintenance, by ‘you’ I mean ‘one’. What I don’t understand is how it can get you when you least expect it, i.e when life is great, I mean that’s not meant to happen surely? That’s just bloody unfair, it’s hard enough dealing with it when it makes sense and you can understand why you have it but when everything is going well and you can’t even enjoy that. Life can be such a cunt at times.

Strangely enough I have been meaning to write a blog for ages to say how well things have been going, as a kind of inspiration to all of you who struggle too. Only I didn’t and now here I am telling you when it’s gone wrong again. Human behaviour is decidedly odd, but then again, so am I so what do I expect?

I am not really sure what I am saying here, maybe that’s because I am not really sure what I am feeling, so finding it difficult to be specific. All I know is ‘Old Satan Claus is out there Jimmy’ – film, Last Boy Scout, seriously you didn’t think you would get a post without some sort of film reference did you? So if any of you out there can give me some insight as to what is going on and why I would be truly grateful.

I tell you what, next time I have a thought to post that something good that has happened, I promise I will.

Oh, as an aside, I am thinking of writing a book, telling my story, both good and bad but ultimately, hoping to spread the word on how depression first gets under your skin and then inside your mind until you reach a point that you don’t know there is anything else. What do you think?

 

 

 

Talk to a stranger

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I did and the impact on both of us was phenomenal.

Just over a week ago I happened to be in a space with only one other person, only that person wasn’t talking to me, instead they were pacing up and down looking agitated. Also, they were wearing shorts and trainers only it was late evening and if you don’t know the weather in the UK has been very cold lately.

So to break the ice, excuse the pun, I said “Do you mind me asking, are you an athlete or do you just dress like one?”. They replied, “No, well I was once but not anymore.” That in itself highlighted an issue, so I continued, “Do you mind me asking, are you ok?””Why do you ask?” They replied. “Because the way you are pacing suggested you might not be.” I said. “I always do that,” they said “burn off the energy.” “I do that too,” I said “When I am running away from something.” Then it all came out, what they told me was both heart wrenching and also completely explained their behaviour. Had I been in that situation, I would have been doing the same.

I am not going to tell you what they said because that would betray their trust. But rest assured it was enough to warrant pacing. They then continued to tell me they felt they couldn’t tell anyone, in fact I was the only one they had told. They were depressed, struggling to cope and thought their loved ones would have judgement on their choices and behaviour. Well they could have been right, they might. The thing is they were too afraid to find out, so they were living their crisis alone! How sad is that, no-one should live a crisis alone. We chatted for about 15 minutes, that’s all, nothing in ones lifetime and I said, “Thank you for having the strength to tell me.” and they replied with, “It’s easy to tell a stranger.”

So there we have it folks, if you are depressed and feel you can’t tell anyone, try telling a stranger or if you notice something about someone that would suggest something is wrong, ask them if they are ok. I appreciate they could get cross tell you it is none of your business, or even worse. Or you may get to have the experience I did and actually help someone, allow someone to lift the weight from their shoulders and share. Share their pain, share their grief, share their worries, whatever it is your kindness is going to allow someone to share something they may be too afraid to do with someone close to them. Imagine what a gift that would be to a fellow human.

You know how I know it is a gift? Because when we were just saying we should move on to our friends my stranger looked at me in a way I will never forget, straight to my heart, their eyes told me everything, their soul was so thankful, they didn’t need to say a word but they did, “Thank you for noticing and listening.” they said. When they left me, their physique and tone of voice had changed completely, they knew someone cared and that someone didn’t know them, they were just human and compassionate. We can all be that person.

Please don’t shy away from someone just because they are giving off negative vibes, it is likely they are not directed at you and more likely that they are in need of help, a shoulder to cry on, someone just to listen, not to pass judgement, not to take sides. There has not been a day since having spoken to my stranger that I haven’t thought about them. Stranger if you read this and I hope you do, you are not alone in your fears and concerns about life choices but no-one is perfect and nor should they strive to be as that will only bring disappointment. We are only human we make mistakes and have emotions and feelings so strong that logic fails to play a part but that is what makes us so unique and special.

I do my best not to ask people to like, comment and share my blog as it so often comes across as systematic and premeditated. However, on this occasion I actually implore you to like, comment and in particular share this story because I believe it is a way of helping people in need. Do not step away from the weirdo, they are not weird they are afraid and alone and need someone to listen, it is likely they know you can’t provide solutions but nonetheless, don’t you find the simple process of just talking through your problems allows a solution to present itself. It is possible that is all your stranger requires, all you will have done is listened for a few minutes and you may be able to transform someone else’s life, how amazing would that be?

 

 

 

 

 

I want to be thinner!

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Ok, so I am writing it when I am in it. I thought I couldn’t do this but I can. Here is an insight into what occurs, for me anyway, when darkness befalls.

Why is my blog entitled ‘I want to be thinner’? Well I will tell you, because it is as this stage of my depression that I convince myself that if I get thin enough I will eventually fade away and die. That way I don’t actually have to do it, kill myself I mean. Admittedly it is a much slower process and that is because I don’t actually want to die but I just don’t want to live either.

Maybe others feel the same, do you?

Or are you the opposite? When you feel the way I do, do you eat more? Then hate yourself for it, get heavier, feel fatter, feel you are useless. You are no different, despite what the media or government might say, when depression kicks in there are no written rules, it is whatever the fuck it likes.

And then I get to the next stage and this is not me being a drama queen, regardless of the fact I am an actor, this is the truth, reality, that thing we all hide from, it is here to get us, so be prepared. The next stage is when I want it to happen faster not an ailment but instant and terminal.

So where the fuck do you go from here?

I have decided not to tag anyone into this blog on facebook or twitter. Why would I, who the fuck would want to read this?

No-one I am sure but maybe someone somewhere can understand what I am saying?

Step away from the weirdo.

Does that happen to you, when people discover you have a mental illness do people avoid you? I am fortunate, so far, I have not experienced that,  I have an amazing group of supportive people, I guess that’s why am still here. You may not and if you don’t please for God sake, let someone know, me if you like.

I have nothing more to say right now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thank you – Take 2!

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Phew, I found it again!

I just wanted to say how completely overwhelmed and heart warmed I was in response to my last post. I was so worried about writing it and there have been numerous occasions in the past where I have felt like doing it but been too afraid. Which is silly really seeing as the reason I started this blog in the first place was to keep me above water and yes when I really needed to do it, I couldn’t.

I was talking to a very good friend about this the other night, as she had picked up on the fact that I had waited to feel better to do it and wasn’t it a shame I couldn’t do it when I needed to. The thing is when you are really in a bad way and your brain is telling you how awful you are it is near on impossible to tell your loved ones, let alone the world. I feel I can say that I told the world because my blog has been read in over 15 countries now which I find astounding. When I started this I didn’t believe anyone would read it, let alone it spreading across the globe, so thank you to all of you for your support. I would probably be in an even worse state without you.

I received emails, texts, fb posts, fb private messages and messages on my blog, not only from my dear friends but some of them came from people I haven’t seen in years and some from people I have never met. This was something completely unexpected but very well received I can tell you because for once instead of crying in pain, I was crying in love and appreciation, all thanks to you, my faith in humanity is restored and I have been able to tell the voices in my head to back the fuck off for the moment, otherwise they will have to take on a lot more than me!

Fortunately this week has been better, I have positive things happening work wise and my pain levels are bearable, one of the worst ones at the moment is my trapped sciatic nerve which, as it has been trapped for so long, has taken on a totally independent lease of life and twitches constantly, you can actually see it pulsing, that doesn’t hurt just feels weird but at night when I move that leg the calf cramps and it’s agony and really disturbs my sleep. So, if depression and pain are not enough lack of sleep gets thrown into the mix, I appreciate the saying things happen in 3’s but these are 3 things I could seriously do without.

Tiredness alone is enough to drive you mental, I have someone very dear to me that often doesn’t get enough rest and she explains that the tiredness just turns her into a maniac and someone she really doesn’t want to be and that then makes you hate yourself which is how depression starts. All I can say to anyone who is exhausted, ask for help in any way you can, get someone to watch the kids, walk the dogs, don’t do the cleaning – it will be there tomorrow and the scary thing with depression is if you don’t deal with it – you might not be there tomorrow. People who care about you want you to be happy and well, I know asking for help is hard, fuck me do I know. However, if my last post is anything to go by you are not alone and you don’t want to be treading water the whole time because guess what? That will make you even more tired and even more crazy.