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.
OK, so I’m just going to say it.
Just because I have Boarderline personality disorder doesn’t mean I’m automatically going to be a bad mother!
I’m saying this because this is what I instantly thought when first diagnosed with BPD. I thought I had failed. I’ve got these issues now so I can never be any kind of mother, let alone a good one!
Last Thursday I had a day of meetings and appointments. I haven’t had a day like this for quite a while, where I spent majority of my day in the hospital where I was very poorly, back where it all started for me. But I have had to learn, that if I want to get better, I have to endure difficult situations, places and even people.
First of all I don’t hate you.
I know for most of our time together you have made me unhappy to say the very least but now I am able to think differently.
In the past you made me look at everything in my life differently. Negatively.
You made me want to die but you also made me want to live. You taught me true love, friendship, gratitude and so much more. You taught me how to live again.
You made me a strong woman.
Having lived with you for quite a while now I’ve taken the time to find out about you in quite some depth. And I would now like to say;
I’ve decided that I’m not going to worry about what people think of me anymore. Well, I’m giving it a bloody good go at least! Because, you know what, having Mental Health Issues really are nothing to be ashamed of! I have done nothing wrong and didn’t ask to have these illnesses so I feel I have an obligation to spread the word about my diagnosis and stop the stigma and ignorance that unfortunately still exists!