I love to look after people. I just do.
I will go out of my way to make sure other people are OK. I am a ‘people pleaser’ I suppose but I don’t really like those words as I feel it brings about more of a negative feeling – but that’s just me.
When I first started to write this blog I made myself a promise that I was going to be honest. Years and years of lying and this is my time to be honest.
So, I do still have bad days! But it is OK!
Not very often but they do still creep up on me.
For the past few months or so I’ve been feeling good – maybe even really good a lot of the time. Holding things together personally and at home. Doing well in therapy. Focusing on the future. I’m off of my anti psychotic medication, generally doing well in all areas.
However, a few weeks or so ago something changed. I felt it the minute I woke up. I felt – different.
I have always loved Christmas. I didn’t matter whether I was a child, teenager or adult. I loved it.
Having my little boy has only increased my love for it. It’s magical. It’s exciting. It’s happy.
Well, that’s the idea anyway.
I guess I have always wanted it to be like this. That perfect Christmas where all of your family and friends gather, exchanging gifts, smiles and laughter. Honest, true happiness. But life isn’t like a film.
I have been thinking about writing my experiences with PND for a while but have been too nervous.
I have come to terms with most of my mental health issues but PND is still a struggle.
My pregnancy overall was pretty good. I had morning sickness for the first 13/14 weeks and a small scare at 30 weeks but overall I loved my pregnancy.
I have always struggled with my eating and the way I look but all of these fears seemed to disappear during pregnancy. I embraced my growing body and bump. My midwife even told me that I shouldn’t worry as I was the kind of person who’s body would just ping back in the few weeks after birth. So I relaxed. I ate far too much. As a result I put on 4 stone!
Some of you may have heard of Ana but she is normally a very private person. She has certainly been more of a ‘secret’ friend of mine for many years. But I’ve decided to let you know a bit about her.
She came into my life in my early teens. I was lonely and she found me. She was pretty and thin and funny – everything I wanted to be. She was always with me from that moment. Teaching me so much. Helping me decide what to do, what to eat how to cope with difficult times. She was my life line. I couldn’t talk to anyone else around me. I had no one really but her.
You are in a pit of tar. The pit is so enormous you cannot see any end to it. The tar is thick and heavy and is up to your waist.
You also have a huge thick bungee rope tied to your middle. It’s already stretched tight so any step froward is taking super human strength.
Your arms have weights strapped to them. Leaving them hanging by your sides.
You feel helpless.
You see a pair of scissors ahead floating on the tar.
If you could just get there at least you could cut the bungee cord.
You force yourself forward.
Through the pain.
You get angry.
You try to think positive.
You are exhausted.
Physically and mentally you are drained.
But you finally reach the scissors.
You manage to lift one of your heavily weighted arms.
But right before your eyes the scissors sink!
You are broken.
You can’t go on.
You want to give up.
This is too hard.
You want to throw your arms up in the air and let the bungee cord take you back.
That is the easiest thing to do.
But whats that ahead?
Another pair of scissors?
You can do it.
Yes! Yes I can.
One more try….
This was written during my relapse. One of my descriptions of depression and relapse.
This post is one I wrote a while ago but with my anxiety increasing tenfold at the moment – no idea why – I thought it would be a good idea to revist the subject.
Anxiety is a word that gets thrown around a lot. It’s thrown around without really knowing the debilitating symptoms that can sometimes come with real Anxiety.
Anxiety is fear.
In life fear is sometimes a good thing. Fear of a cliff edge or fire, for example will keep you safe. But fear of some everyday or perhaps unusual things can ruin your day, your job and even your life.
For anyone that is close to me you will know how many times I stupidly say “I’m sorry” every week, day or even hour!
I was sat with a friend the other day who was helping me on my laptop and I lost count of how many times I said I’m sorry! It was getting annoying.
Friend; “Amy please stop saying sorry!”
I didn’t even need to say sorry! All I did was mis-click a button or look too long to write something down! It’s ridiculous!
Now, when this word Anorexia is said I know the image that comes to everyone’s mind. A teenage girl that looks completely emaciated from starving herself. But this is very very often NOT the case. Yes of course there are some suffers of Anorexia who are teenage girls and who end up this way but there are so many other people who are suffering. Men and women. Young and old.
I’m writing this blog Me and Anorexia hoping to dispel some myths around Anorexia. Out of all of my illness this is the one that people understand the least and the one that I get judged for most.