We did it. We said our goodbyes and we left.
To the piece of our family that had been there for 30 years. The piece that had seen us through the good times and the bad times. The piece that had witnessed so much, from the growing up from a child to an adult, to the baby being bought home for the first time, to the bride waving goodbye as she left for the church. Many Christmases, Easters, birthdays and parties that had taken place there, welcoming so many people over the years. The piece of the family that had always been there at the beginning or the end of the day. It was there, not asking for much. Just maybe a lick of paint or to be heated up once in a while. Yes. We said goodbye to the “Family Home”. Admittedly it was home for me for 20 years before I moved out, but it was the home I grew up in with my family. It was the place I had keys for, and the place that was so familiar to me that it felt as though I had always been there. Personally I had been dreading moving day and saying goodbye to a place that was part of my family for so long. Of course I understood why my parents were downsizing, but there was a part of me that didn’t want to say goodbye. Again it was the uncertainty, change and not knowing what life would be like not being in this house. We moved here when I was three, and apart from my Mum, Dad & sister it was one of the things that had been in my life the longest. We had worked together as a family clearing, sorting and getting everything ready for that day when it wouldn’t be our house. The only saving grace was that we were doing it as a family and that it wasn’t under other sadder circumstances. As a family I think we all put on a brave face because I don’t think any of us wanted to admit that we didn’t really want to go. But amazingly and together as a family we did it. We moved my family into their new house and although there are boxes still to unpack and things to sort they have done the hardest bit and actually moved. They were brave and went through the moving process and have come out the other end. They don’t look back and regret it. Instead without knowing they’re being positive and proactive and starting to create new routines and get on with their lives. I kept thinking that it was just a house but in that house you make a home and from that home comes the memories. And we still have those. The house was tired, it needed love and it needed a new family, chapter and new memories to be made in it. A house is what you make it and this can be the same for your life too. It’s what you make it. It’s what you do and it’s how you embrace that change. x
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I’m having a Kit Kat moment.
You know, the part where Kit Kat says “Have a break. Have a Kit Kat” Well that’s exactly what I have done. Family T have gone on holiday for a break, and we took Kit Kats. Our holiday travel plan included a cruise on a luxury liner to a remote island. Yes you’ve guessed it, we’re on……….the Isle of Wight. Whoop Whoop. So it might only be the Isle of Wight, but a holiday is a holiday. Travelling that little stretch of water makes you feel that you have actually left the country (I know you haven’t, but we’ve left the mainland) and you feel separated, away and given a chance to press the reset button. I needed to press the reset button; I was exhausted and I needed to recharge my batteries. I’m not the best at looking after myself, saying no and end up running down. The problem is I’m like a mobile phone where the battery suddenly gets down to 5% without any warning. So you put it on charge but only till about 21% before you start using again. So I’m charged up enough to work but only just. This doesn’t help me and the Saturday before we came on holiday I burned out. I had got to nearly 0% charge and I knew because I got ill, and my anxiety was all over the place. I had to cancel a meal with friends and I was meant to be the one giving everyone else a lift. Having to let everyone down made my anxiety worse. Deep down I knew I wasn’t letting anyone down because I was listening to my body and mind and knew that I had to look after myself. I had to start recharging the batteries, my health was starting to be at risk. So I had to be that friend that cancels plans because of their anxiety and accept defeat. As much as I didn’t want to let people down and miss out on a night out with friends, I had to. So how do you tell a busy person to stop, sit still and recharge? Well for me it involved sitting on the sofa and not moving. It involved sleeping and lying in bed those first few moments when you wake up and not reaching for my phone. Since being on holiday we’ve just taken everything slower, watched rubbish TV and eaten whatever and whenever. Our lunch the other day was waffles and ice cream. Why? Because we could. Sometimes we have to fit in the box, do the right thing, live up to the expectations of others. Well this holiday we have thrown all of that out and were doing it our way. Our way included lazy mornings, trips out, coffee at random times, eating Kit Kats, watching rubbish TV and just being slow. The other night we were in bed by 9.30pm. This is unheard of in our house especially for my husband who usually doesn’t come to bed till about midnight. However I knew it was my body, life and mind finally slowing down and the recharge starting to happen. Not just a little recharge but a full 100% battery recharge. It feels nice, even though it’s a little odd. But it would to someone who doesn’t ever stop, who is always on the edge over “What do I need to do next?”. I need to learn from this holiday and I need to take that HUGE step away. Step away from situations that don’t help me, stop over-thinking situations, worry less and just RELAX!!! Sometimes your anxiety won’t let you do any of those things, and it winds up and up like a spring until the spring is so tight that you have to let it go (and watch it bounce all over the place causing chaos and mayhem) But it’s okay. The world won’t end if you take a break and have a Kit Kat and you give yourself a break. Put yourself on for a full charge. You need it. Who is this mother? I don't want her as a friend & I most certainly didn't invite her to my play dates. I don’t know about you, but I experience Mother’s guilt all the time, and I only have one child. Goodness knows how those who have more than one cope. I hate anyone being left out and I definitely worry about this with my daughter, as I would hate for her to have the feeling of being excluded. Or not trying everything that life has to offer, although let’s face it, life sometimes has too much to offer especially for children. I also have “FOMO” (Fear Of Missing Out) once again it’s connected to my anxiety because I don’t want my daughter to miss out on anything. I get disheartened when my daughter doesn’t get invited to the party, is left out of games or misses out something. I feel that guilty anxious knot and I want to fix it. I have many Mummy friends who, just like me, have their own specific area where they battle with guilt. For example I know I have a stay at home mum who thinks she should be working, the working mum who thinks she should be staying at home, the mum who doesn’t do organic, the mum who didn’t breastfeed, the mum who didn’t take part in every baby class possible, the mum who didn’t read all the books, and the list goes on. We all do it. We all beat ourselves up with our imaginary bat saying “What more can I do for my child? Am I doing enough for my child? Should they being doing more classes, socialising, learning a new developmental skill?”, and so on. I remember in the early days trying to get my daughter to do tummy time. I remember thinking “If I don’t give this child at least 10 minutes of tummy time a day that’s it, I’ve failed at being a parent and she will never ever be able to hold her head up”. My child is 4 now and her head control skills are just fine. I have those days where I’m so tired all I want to do is just have that cheeky power nap for half an hour, but the guilt sets in. “Have I done enough with my child today? Have we bonded? We haven’t ever done baking? Why haven’t we? Will this not help her development? Will this be her defining memory of her childhood?” And the questions continue and the anxiety rises and the worry and guilt set in. I look back at the last 5 years and think “Really? That’s what you were worrying about?” But at the time it seemed important. I so wish I could go back and tell myself “Look, it’s all going to be fine” because it really is. Honestly, can you tell me what you were worrying about 5 years ago? I recently had an attack of guilt and anxiety over what’s the right thing to do in relation to my child’s health, and how far I’d be prepared to go to prevent even the most improbable of situations from occurring. At first when listening to others talking about it, and because I wasn’t up to speed on this certain issue, I let my brain over-think and the guilt plus anxiety crept in. Once that initial fear had subsided though, I was able to look at the situation from my rational viewpoint, and realise that there’s a balance and that because I hadn’t acted when others may have acted I still could, but in my own time and at my own pace. Maybe it was because my life is made up of so many things that I just didn’t feel that issue was important enough at the time compared to some of the other worries and concerns I was dealing with. It got me wondering why am I not as bothered as some other Mum’s. Then I realised that I’m doing what I think is right. My daughter is happy and healthy. I’m a Mum who reads no books on child rearing, and doesn’t do any real research into the subject. I might read a few basic points, ask a few friends, but that’s the extent of it. If it looks right and goes right then that’s all I can hope for. I hated weaning and we survived on Ella’s Kitchen pouches until some sheer miracle proper solid food went in. (I might also add I don’t like to cook). I was that Mum But I made the effort. I did what I felt was right for me and my child and that’s basically it. We don’t need the Mothers guilt in our lives because as long as we’re there for our child / children and what we’re doing is for their benefit, then there shouldn’t be any guilt. It’s not right that it comes along and tells us what we should or shouldn’t be doing because whatever we are doing is right for us and our family. However, I know that just as Mother Nature is one of my lifelong friends, so is Mother’s Guilt. So instead of letting it get to me and cause me anxiety, I need to learn to manage its effects. I can’t escape it; all I can do it learn the best way to live with it. to edit. I often hear the question “Are you happy?”
I don’t like it. It’s like asking how long a piece of string is. Don’t get me wrong. Yes I like things that give me that happy feeling, but am I happy? As in have I achieved my limit of happiness and this where I shall stay? No, that’s ridiculous!!! How can I have achieved happiness when I have so much more to experience? Ok yes, maybe if I’m lying on my deathbed with my last breath I might say “Yes I’m happy”, but for me happy is a continual process. Happy isn’t just a destination, a thing, a feeling, an emotion or whatever you define it to be. It’s a mixture of all those things. It’s the big and the small, and it’s those moments that suddenly you look back at and go “Yes, that was happiness” People continually ask themselves “Why can’t I be happy?” or “I wish I was happy”. Well there is that possibility of you actually finding it, you’re probably just not looking in the right place. Happy isn’t like being given an injection or (if like me and you’ve watched the film Trolls a million times) you don’t get to eat the Troll to be happy!!! It’s actually looking at your lifestyle, who you are and actually what kind of a life you have. It can be the smallest of things, but because we take them for granted or view them as being part of the “norm”. So we don’t actually realise these are the elements that contribute to our happiness and well being. To me, it can be things as simple as when the bath water is the perfect temperature when you first put your foot in, or you get to the Post Office and there’s no queue, or the piece of bread you put in the toaster comes out at exactly the right level of crunch. They’re just small things, and internally I’m doing that little happy dance. However we probably don’t realise were doing it most of the time So I decided to write a list of some things that give me that feeling of happiness, some of which are the small, but they all achieve the same goal. 1- A nice cappuccino. (Until I had a child I didn’t drink the stuff, but over the last 5 years I’ve discovered it’s really quite good and on occasion it’s also essential) 2- A beauty treatment (I don’t care what, I just know it’s for me and someone is looking after me) 3- A thoughtful friend ( I love it when people care and do things for others when you wouldn’t expect them to) 4- My size in stock (Doesn’t really matter whether its shoes, clothes, jewellery etc. Just that it’s my size in stock when I’m buying) 5- Veggie Percy Pigs (I’m not a veggie but I just love them, especially when they’ve been in the fridge) 6- My daughter’s “dirty” laugh (The best sound as it’s so infectious. She sounds like Sid James) 7- The sound of my husband’s key in the lock when he comes back from work (It means he’s home & he’s safe. Plus my daughters reaction when she sees him is hilarious; it’s like he is a celebrity) 8- A clean house (It means I can sit down and relax – HA HA HA. I saw a picture a while ago saying “Kids - Clean House - Sanity. Pick 2) 9- Weather that’s perfect for putting washing out on the line ( I love it, as it means I can get all the washing done in one day) 10- Finding a song I love, and playing it over and over and over again (Who doesn’t do this?) 11- A really good sneeze (Especially when it’s been brewing for a while. The satisfaction afterwards is bliss) 12- Being in my thirties (I finally feel like an adult, sort of. Basically I turned 30 and stopped giving such a damn about certain situations) I could go on more, such as my family, melted cheese, but I’ve given enough for now. I also did a list of things that I know won’t ever give me that feeling 1- Bullies (What makes you better than me?) 2- Two-Faced people (People who act like they’re your friend, but really they’re not) 3- Weighing scales!!! – Why invent them for people to use? They should only ever be used for baking 4- Milk that has gone off (I know it waits to just turn. Where it turns and when it turns is a mystery) 5- Not being able to tune the radio and getting that white static noise for every station!!! (Because who wants to listen to that) 6- An unexpected bill ( I hate them, especially when it’s for something boring) 7- My size out of stock ( The dream has been taken away) 8- My car surviving on fumes for petrol (It’s working out the logistics and how far you can travel to get to the petrol station without breaking down lol) 9- Lots of questions (The type that just lead to more questions and keep going on and on and on. Sometimes people need to just shush) 10- Un thoughtful people ( People who don’t care about others or have any thought for others) So here are a couple of lists of things in my life that make me…..well…..me. Give it a try write your own lists and hopefully you’ll start to realise that you do have things that can contribute to your own interpretation of happy. So my dear parents are having to move out of the house they have lived in for 30 years and downsize. One is due to financial reasons the other is the house is too big for them to maintain, especially thinking forward for my Dad, they need something more manageable. However my parents, as much as we love them, are hoarders!
They live currently in a semi-detached house with a double garage and loft. They are moving to an end of terrace house with a loft and no garage. So as you can imagine, the time has come to clear, sort, and pack the house up. We had already done the garage over the last couple of weeks, so today was “Loft day” The garage was full of bits and pieces that pre-dated me, to the point my Mum and Dad had forgotten we had half of the things in there. However the loft well that was certainly a trip down memory lane and beyond. For instance, my Mother had kept my baby bath! I’m 32 now with a whole bathroom and an adult size bath. I’m not sure what I’d do with a 32 year old baby bath now. However as much as I despair with my parents for having kept these “treasures”, I knew they were important to them. My sister, husband and I pulled out things that had long been forgotten, or at least that we thought had gone a long time ago. However there were some things in there that we loved seeing again. One of my favourite pieces I found was my old wicker doll’s pram, that I had when I was little. Yet again the question of “Why have you kept this, mother?” was asked. I even pointed out to Mum that since that dolls pram went into the loft, I had been given and used another buggy, and I’d even had a life-sized pram with a real baby in it, and that my real baby now has her own doll’s buggy too. The loft also uncovered the old diaries my Mum used to keep in the years when she’d just met our Dad and their story and life before having me and my sister. These are lovely to have because we get to recapture and hear what their life was like, especially for my Dad who may have a few cobwebs on those memories. My favourite memories to read were the day my Mum met my Dad, the day they found out that they were expecting me (they’d previously been told that they couldn’t have children) and the few days before and after I was born. These first hand memories are ones you can’t replicate, so to be able read them like I was there at the time is something I will always cherish. We found old cards, receipts from their wedding day, old vinyl records and even things they’d inherited from my grandparents. We found our old school exercise books and nursery drawings that were forgotten, but were coming out for an airing. There were bags of old clothes that my parents wore and hidden amongst them was even my Mum’s wedding dress, so of course I had to try it on. I think when you find your Mum’s wedding dress then as a daughter you must try it on, whatever age you are. Although time and life had moved on, it was nice to recapture memories and actually see my parents relive memories again. From my Mum’s expression at seeing her wedding dress again, or my Dad’s leafing through his old LPs back from his days as a mobile DJ, it reminded me that they were once like me. It just seems so sad now that my Dad’s illness is robbing him of that carefree “do what you will” attitude of taking risks. It’s something he would never have expected or planned. I see the sadness in my parent’s eyes as they watch the clearing out happening. It’s something which some parents never have to witness as they’re are usually not around. I know this change is big for them. The memories that are being reignited with seeing what is coming out of the darkest corners of the loft are looked at with nostalgia and with a tinge of sadness. However it’s having a support network around them that will help them. Of course, we won’t throw everything away, but we have created a box with the items that have special memories attached, the old diaries and so on. These are the things that my sister and I will go through on our own one day, and relive our childhoods, our parents’ lives before us, and so much more. Mental health can be affected when we’re doing things we really don’t want to do. What’s important is having a support network, people to talk to and seeing things in a different way. This is what helps us accept and move on. Hopefully. to edit. My Anxiety and how I cope.
When I start to have a panic attack I have a “tell” sign. My hands become fidgety. It’s as though I can’t put my finger on the issue, therefore I fidget with my hands because they can’t find what they want to do. When it starts and I can feel it coming, it really annoys me. So I had to develop some techniques to keep my calm and bring me out of the attack. There are a range of factors which determine how I will try to deal with it. It depends on how I’m feeling generally, where I am, who I’m with, and the magnitude of the panic attack. So how do I deal with them? I can’t say it will definitely work for you, and I might sound like a mixed bag of nuts when I describe them, but they work for me so I’m going to share them. So here goes Think of your panic attacks like earthquakes and you have to measure them on the Richter scale. A low on the Richter scale panic attack: I stop whatever I’m doing and I talk to myself but as though I was someone else; someone with a more logical mind at that point in time. I ask myself (out loud, if I’m alone) what am I worrying about? Can I change it? Yes or No. If I can’t then I ask myself why am I worried? It’s out of my control? Therefore I have to move on. If the situation can be changed, then what can I do to change it? Is the answer simple? If so, then I’ll try and do it. My anxiety often stems from needing to be in control of the situation. A situation as simple as deciding what to wear can spiral out of hand if I start to feel that my fears around my appearance are getting carried away. So that logical mind helps me regain that sense of control. I find the lower category panic attacks easier to manage by talk to myself. I’ve managed to talk or think myself into it so why not myself out of it? Take your time. Talk at a pace you’re comfortable with. Keep talking you’ll hopefully find your rhythm again and your heart rate will return to normal. You once again need to regain the control and by talking to yourself you’re managing that. A mid-way on the Richter scale panic attack: It starts of like a low one, but this time my chest tightens and my breathing intensifies. As before I start off with talking, but sometimes talking doesn’t help. So if that isn’t working and I can’t find my “logical voice” then I start counting. I count to 10 at a pace I’m comfortable with. I do this over and over again until my heart rate comes back to normal again and I get myself to the stage where I can actually talk to myself again about the problem in my “logical voice”. It doesn’t matter how many times you count or how long it takes you. You’re finding your way out of it and back. A major earthquake. The kind that levels San Francisco sort of a panic attack: So these don’t happen to me that often but when they do they completely take over my mind and body. I don’t have a way to get myself out of these, I just have to see it through. Seeing it through means having to go through the emotions & letting your body take over and just riding out the storm. For me my chest tightens, my breathing becomes erratic, I can’t think, focus or know what I want. I feel sick and I just want to hide. It’s a horrible feeling and the problem is that once the panic and anxiety have got hold of you, it takes a lot to come out of it. Depending on what’s triggered it I might cry, get angry, want comfort, to be left alone, fresh air or Even sometimes sleep will help. Whatever it is and wherever I am I have to decide which route to take. However I always seem to be able to think logically as Il know what I want to do regardless of what it is. These ones do have an end point and I have to see them through. They don’t last long and sometimes it’s better to let it run, see it through and to see where your emotions take you. I’d tried to control these but found that I wasn’t able to bring myself back down and that I was only prolonging the attack and making it worse, so I now just see it through without trying to stop it and letting it escalate. The main thing is you’re going to be ok whatever happens. I hope this helps in some small way. We’re all different so whatever works for me might not work for you, but we all have a tool box of coping mechanisms. We just need to keep working and tinkering until we find the right tool that works for you. I wish there was a big button you could push or sound the alarm when a panic attack occurs. I wish there was a shelter we could go and hide in until it passes. I wish I could press the reset button, or switch myself off and then back on again. It doesn’t happen like that. I had a friend ask me what a panic attack feels like, how do I know when it’s coming, plus how do I deal with it? For a long time I never admitted I had anxiety. It was like this dirty little secret and I didn’t want people to know. Why would they want to know and how could they help me if they did? I didn’t even want to admit it to myself. I knew something wasn’t right. When a close family friend died in 2011, I became obsessed with seeing my parents daily, or at least hearing from them. My irrational thoughts around death went to the point I was worrying about whether my outfit looked right because, well, what if that was the last outfit I wore? My husband knew something wasn’t right, I wasn’t myself at all and it came to a head that same year when I lost my job. I had recently got married and we’d had a fantastic first Christmas together. I was looking forward to the new year, getting used to married life , being employed and saving for our future Going from being employed and thinking about the future to suddenly not having a job changed my outlook. Gone was a major reason to get up in the morning, my routine and the interaction with people I was used seeing every day. It all suddenly went. I found it hard to find another job. This pressure to be employed started to mount up, to the point where I found myself not wanting to go to work and instead stay at home and hide. I was fine doing the mundane jobs of life, but not actually having a job that paid. After several months I found a job. I remember a feeling of dread in the days leading up to my new start date, but I tried to put those feelings aside and just got on with it. When I started I found that whilst people were pleasant enough, my desk was situated behind a filing cabinet in an obscure part of the building. I couldn’t interact with anyone in the office, and most people didn’t know I was there. My lunch break on that first day was spent sitting in my car in a supermarket car park. I’d been left to my own devices and the feeling of rejection began to overwhelm me and I began to cry. I realised then that I wasn’t right, but I hadn’t heard of anxiety disorders before and didn’t make the connection. I did know that I didn’t want to be there and that accepting the job was just a way of stopping other people from putting pressure on me to find one. There’s a huge expectation that in order to be a part of society that you need to be gainfully employed, but I didn’t feel that I could stay in this role The feeling I had when I returned to the office was like being trapped with no escape. My heart rate was racing and I couldn’t stop this feeling of being walled in. I also couldn’t stop crying either. I wanted to escape. In that moment I knew had to get out. So I left. I walked out and didn’t return. The next day my husband took me to the doctors who diagnosed anxiety disorder and put me on medication. I was prescribed two beta-blocker tablets a day to help manage the symptoms. I felt like a failure. However I soon started to learn what I needed to do in order to start to feel better. I had a lovely friend who I had worked with before who offered me some part-time work and that was the start. I wasn’t ready to do full-time work again so I changed my job search criteria and found something part-time. This helped me because I knew there was an end to the job each day which wasn’t too far away. I could do a few hours then go home without experiencing the pressure of knowing that I’d have to stay there for a full 7 hours. I was still on the medication, but I was beginning the process of feeling like my old happy, healthy self again. Within that time I enrolled onto course providing counselling skills. I’d previously worked in Human Resources, so wanted to have extra people skills for when I wanted to go back to this sort of role. This was the first turning point. I suddenly learned how to talk about my issues, that I shouldn’t be ashamed, and that actually sharing and talking about my illness helps. I started to realise I wasn’t alone. My next turning point when I found out that I was pregnant. I had reduced my tablets down to one tablet a day, but being pregnant meant I had to come off the medication. Suddenly my focus switched from me to my growing child and doing the best for her. I had started to find what worked for me, so that when I do get a panic attack now, I have some extra tools in my imaginary tool box to help me. In my next blog I’d like to share the techniques that work for me to cope with a panic attack. I’m not saying that they’ll work for you (I think we’re all different and you need to work out what’s effective for you) but they might help The events, for now, are done.
To be fair, we did turn it around in only 3 weeks since the previous event, so it’s not surprised my stress levels were high. I won’t lie, my anxiety hit the roof the day before the event. To the point I felt so ill that I had to stop everything, I was doing and just see the attack through. This is something I haven’t done in a long time. I knew planning these events would affect my stress levels. I didn’t feel like this at all when I got married, though so I didn’t expect to feel this overwhelming pressure to pull another event off again. I decided after the attack had subsided a little that I needed to regroup again. I needed to plan, so that’s what I did. I wrote a list of everything I needed to do, which helped me regain control again. It was a list of everything I was worrying about. I decided to find all my Orla Kiely “Bags for life” and organise everything into categories. For some reason I always forget to take to the supermarket, plus the majority of our food shopping is done online and delivered too, but they look pretty and come in very handy for running charity fundraisers. So once the bags were labelled I just put the relevant bits in them, and once this was done I felt I had regained control of the situation, and the feeling of stress and the sickness that came with it went. I was then able to work out what to do next. The next day was event day and although I had butterflies in my tummy, I was prepared. However when your other half reminds you he put his car in for a service first thing, you realise that your plans aren’t quite going according to plan. Hence I relied heavily on my Mum who, like me, gets a job done. I arrived at the hall and just rushed round like a mad woman. My planning had worked the day before, so I knew where everything was, and it was easy to put everything out. However once I was all set up and my lovely “glam squad” and photographer arrived, I really hoped that it wouldn’t just be us and we would get more people in through the door to the event. I needn’t have worried as people arrived, they donated and they ate cake. The Mind’s Eye Challenge Event was going to work and my crazy idea was happening once again. It was a success and to top it off we raised over £1000 for “Mind”. I don’t pretend to know the first thing on how to deal with all anxiety and the stress of life, but I know what works for me. However much as I hate it when it’s there, it’s the getting out of that anxious state that helps me in the long run. In going through it, I learn what works for me too. So my only helpful suggestion is if it happens to you, if you’re feeling overwhelmed and have an event coming up that brings it on, then just stop for a moment. See where the attack takes you. Let it ride out and then re-group. I did that this time and once I had let it happen, then I was me again. Sometimes it’s easier to have the attack and let it go then prevent it and let it build. Once mine had gone, I had the control back and was able to plan, organise and get myself ready for my event. Thank you for reading. X I’ve found that one of the problems with anxiety, is that the panic attacks are sometimes triggered by situations I can’t control. The actions of others can suddenly and without warning start the panic and the sensation of feeling overwhelmed seeps in.
You want to help, you want to sort it and fix it, but you can’t. It’s not your situation, and it’s a problem you can’t fix, however much you want to. The Westminster terror attacks happened and that unsettled feeling descended across the country I live in, and also on me. I wanted to protect everyone I loved, to put them in a bubble and never let them out. I wanted that feeling of fear to disappear, and the tight knot to loosen. Anxiety like that hits straight away. It doesn’t build up, but it hits and takes control straight away. You feel helpless, you want answers, and you want someone to say “Don’t worry it will be ok”. I realise that I’m now an adult and have to face up to the fact I live in a world where there are people who are intent on hurting others, and want to destroy the peace that so many people have built up. As I watched the 6 ‘o’ clock news and saw the events that had unfolded that day, my beautiful 4 year old came running up to me full of excitement, pointing at the sky shouting “It’s orange. Mummy. The sky is orange”. At that moment a change happened. In that moment I saw the world through her eyes. The innocence that we all once had, but that time had taken away, was looking at me with these big blue eyes. I looked out the window at the orange sky. I had been too pre-occupied in the horrors in the world to appreciate the beauty in the world. In that moment I felt such love for my daughter that, when I hugged her, I asked her to change the world to which she agreed. I’m not sure she understood the responsibility she had taken on but she hadn’t said “no”, so there was hope. My anxiety had melted away. The fear had gone and was replaced by hope, and that feeling of needing to make the world a safer place for her came in. The control was back along with the appreciation of life and it released the fear and panic that was there. I know as a parent that one day I will have to let my daughter into this world and tell her of the bad things going on the world around us, but for now I don’t want to ruin it. I don’t want to take away the innocence of believing in the magic, or give her worries that she doesn’t need. We take for granted being young whilst we are young, and only appreciate it when we‘re no longer that age. It shows me that although my anxiety can come on suddenly, it can disappear just as quickly and that sometimes it is out of your control. But that’s ok, as you’ll always have the balance; you just either have to wait for it, or find it. My dad is the first man I ever fell in love with and he has been with me through everything.
He was my first superhero, the greatest magician and best pancake maker I had ever met. As an adult he held my arm as he walked me down the aisle, and I remember the look on his face holding my new-born daughter for the first time. Alongside my mum, he has been a pillar of strength who has supported me throughout my life. As I grow older, I see more of myself in him. We share the same sense of humour, we’re both creative, and most importantly we both despise Brussels sprouts. In 2013 we’d noticed that Dad wasn’t quite himself. He’d started to shuffle when he walked, which we put down to him needing to hitch his trousers up. Mum said that he’d been getting a bit forgetful, but we put that down to “senior moments”. Then he mentioned seeing a dog in the room at night, or that the wardrobe was on fire. My parents had never owned a dog, and the wardrobe was most definitely not on fire. When Dad was diagnosed with Dementia with Lewy bodies and Parkinson’s disease, the news hit our family hard. I was pretty ill-educated about Dementia with Lewy Bodies and Parkinson’s as I suspect most people who haven’t had any personal experience are. I originally brushed it off, mostly likely being in some form of denial. “He will be fine. This won’t affect him. He’s my dad, and things like this don’t happen to my dad”. Over the past four years we’ve watched how the dementia has really started to affect him. He is still Dad and in my mind he always will be. No illness is going to take that away from me. We take each day as it comes. We adapt and we cherish the moments, and the memories of good days. As well as the impact of the diagnosis, we also saw the toll it took on my dad’s mental health and the rest of the family’s outlook. Knowing what was to come had a pretty devastating result on my dad’s ability to remain positive; both for his own sense of identity and also the worry of what burdens he would be putting on my mum and the rest of the family. Being diagnosed with a life-limiting condition is just one piece of the jigsaw. It’s only once you add in the depression, the anxiety and the guilt do you start to see the bigger picture and the true impact. And it’s the whole family who are affected, not just Dad. In many ways the impact on your mental health is greater than the illness itself, but admitting you have a problem is difficult. For too long poor mental health was something that you weren’t meant to share with anyone. Especially as a carer of someone with a condition, you’re expected to be “the strong one”. I want people to be honest about what they have, and feel comfortable and confident in saying “I struggle with mental illness and I need help”, rather than hiding it away and allowing it to control them. So I wanted to start something that captured people’s imagination and attention. I had already done fundraising for Mind in the past, hosting “Crafternoon” events, but I wanted to do something bigger to create awareness for mental health. So I launched a social media campaign. The “Mind’s Eye Challenge” was an idea that had sat in my own mind for a couple of years, but really wasn’t sure whether I could launch it as a social media charity campaign and make it work. I spoke to a charity fundraiser at Mind for guidance and their advice was simply to go for it; they’d support me, but this was my idea. What would be the worst that could happen? I decided that if people were willing to throw a bucket of iced water over their heads for charity, then in the age where the selfie is so popular that taking a picture of your eyes should be straightforward. So a few weeks later I launched the Mind’s Eye Challenge campaign, and have started to make that difference to support and educate those on mental health. Mind’s Eye Challenge is firstly for my dad, and that by telling his story that I’m leaving a legacy in his name. But it’s also to let others know that if you’re on the receiving end of bad news that it will impact on your state of mind, irrespective of whether you’re the one with diagnosis or someone who loves them. There is no stigma, there’s no reason to hide it, and there is help out there when you need it. |
BLOGAbout meDanni Tresadern. Someone who puts their hand up admitting she has anxiety. Archives
September 2018
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