Anxiety, Body image, Challenging, Chronic health condition, Depression, Exhausted, Friends, Generalised Anxiety, Panic Attack, Social Anxiety, Tired

Anxiety Anxiety Anxiety Anxiety Anxiety Anxiety Anxiety Anxiety!!!

I’ve talked before about my depression, health conditions and I’ve mentioned my anxiety before but I haven’t dedicated a blog post to what is a big part of my life and that is, you guessed it, anxiety! *Insert clapping*

Anxiety is a tricky thing as it’s different for everyone who gets it and the symptoms that people experience with anxiety will also be different. Sure, anxiety sufferers might experience SIMILAR symptoms but they will never be EXACTLY the same. There are two main types of anxiety that I’m aware of and they are generalised (you get anxious about everything and anything) and social (you get anxious about going outside, seeing people, talking to people ect) anxiety.¬†I have both generalised and social anxiety.

I can’t tell you which is worse as they are both incredibly bad and somedays one will be worse than the other and then other days they’re both at the same level of anxiousness. My anxiety has definitely gotten worse over the years and now I have a hard time leaving the house just to take the rubbish down. When I’m sleeping I have anxious dreams because of my PTSD and when I’m awake I’m sometimes shaking with anxiety doing absolutely nothing, so basically I am just one big ball of anxiety.

I’ll talk about my social anxiety first:
There’s a big difference between being nervous about going somewhere new and being anxious¬†about going somewhere new. Being nervous is normal and a useful human emotion but being anxious takes it past the level of being useful and a good human emotion to being a draining and fearful experience where there is no need at all to be fearful and to act and feel like you’re being chased by a lion about to be eaten!
I’d like people to stop using the term ‘anxiety’ so loosely and about everything when in fact, they are just NERVOUS and or excited NOT anxious.

A lot of my social anxiety revolves around how I think I look because of my weight which makes going out anywhere incredibly hard. I have a hard time going out and eating because I feel like everyone will be looking at me and judging me for eating. I can’t stand crowded places with too many people and loud noises and I have a very hard time talking to people like shop assistants when I’m out. ¬†I have a constant monologue of unhelpful thoughts running through my head the whole time I’m out and some of them are: “That person is looking at you because you’re fat” and “People are looking at you because you’re fat and eating” and “People are looking at your acne and that’s all they’re seeing.” As you can see, those thoughts aren’t nice or helpful and yet no matter how hard I try I can never stop them while I’m out. I’m always fidgeting and looking like I’m going to hurl and I know these thought aren’t rational but in a society where it’s openly known that you’re judged on the way you look, it’s hard not to have those thoughts and it’s even harder when you have no self confidence at all.

My social anxiety really inhibits me from doing a lot of things like going out with my Mum and spending time with her or going out and trying to find some friends. Social anxiety is not fun at all and I hate it, I hate everything about it because we know that it’s not rational to be so scared of seeing and talking to people that you want to cry, throw up and run away (all at the same time I might add) and yet you can’t stop feeling like that. Pushing past all those anxious feelings is really freaking exhausting which is why after I come home after going out anywhere I have to have a nap¬†ūüėā¬†Not only is pushing past those anxious feelings to actually go somewhere exhausting but consciously challenging all those anxious and unhelpful thoughts is exhausting as well, it almost feels like a full time job…

And as I right this blog post about anxiety I am starting to get anxiety… how effed up is that?!¬†ūüôĄ

Now I will talk about my generalised anxiety:
Having generalised anxiety means that I am¬†anxious nearly all the time and¬†usually about nothing. I could be sitting on the couch watching TV and feel like I¬†can’t breathe and my heart is racing and yet there’s no reason for me to feel¬†anxious at all. Even when I’m sleeping my dreams are anxiety inducing and so I¬†wake up with anxiety. I always feel like I am in that fight or flight state and that I can never properly relax, I am¬†always on edge and¬†always ready to go go go (even¬†though I have no energy).

Continuously feeling¬†anxious for no reason is hard work. I can sit¬†somewhere quietly and do my breathing exercises or distract myself but I still¬†can’t seem to quit being anxious. Being anxious has become part of¬†who I am now and I hate it. I don’t like¬†feeling anxious all the time about nothing and¬†never being able to relax, I want to be able to sit¬†down and give my body a rest.
I get anxious about making plans for the day, taking the rubbish out, Mum going anywhere and sometimes I get anxious just looking outside my window…

Nearly everything causes me to have anxiety and therefore continuously makes my body react like there’s danger and release that adrenaline and cortisol that your body produces when it’s in danger and yet, there is no danger for me at all. My body and mind are always on high alert and can never get a proper rest unless I take my anti-anxiety medication. I’m not against medication at all but I don’t want to take my anti-anxiety medication everyday just so I can get through the day without having all the feelings of anxiety and the starting symptoms of a panic attack, I want to be able to get and work through my anxiety myself but everything I try just doesn’t work. I have worked with many counsellors and psychologists to try and help me with my anxiety and apart from them all giving me the same techniques to use, they just don’t work.¬†

My anxiety also makes all my other health conditions worse. When my anxiety is worse it makes my depression worse which then makes my health conditions worse which then makes my anxiety worse and it’s a cycle that I can’t get out of.¬†

Here’s a little chart I made:

anxiety chart screenshot.png

Living with anxiety is a daily struggle that I have been dealing with for nearly 5 years now and you’d think that I’d get use to it by now but I haven’t, I’m still surprised over the level of my anxiety sometimes and how I can have anxiety for no apparent reason. I will continue to fight it and maybe one day I won’t have it anymore but for now, It’s making my life 1000000x harder and its just another thing that I have to deal with.

Keep safe everyone and know that you are not alone with your anxiety.
Maddy xoxo

Follow my new twitter account: https://twitter.com/DMWAAG

Email: depressedmesswithanxietyandgrief@outlook.com

 

(Featured image: https://www.jmrocketreporter.org/arts-entertainment-2/staff-columns/2017/05/18/stress/)

 

 

Advertisements
Standard
Body image, Fat shaming, Feminism

Fat Shaming Women ūüė†

200w_d

Lets talk about fat shaming women shall we? It infuriates me that in 2017 we are still naming and shaming people who are ‘fat’. I hate that word so much and everything that it stands for. Being ‘fat’ isn’t a bad thing at all.

There’s a stigma attached to being ‘fat’ and that is: that all ‘fat’ people are lazy and unhealthy. This is just NOT true!!! Why is it that to be classified as desirable and beautiful in today’s society we all have to be slim, toned with no imperfections with our body. We’re not allowed to have stretch marks or body hair and we all have to be under 60kgs. This just isn’t possible unless someones invents a robot and duplicates it and kills all us ‘fat’ and imperfect women.
It is scientifically proven that some people in their DNA are built to be curvy and not stick thin, but that doesn’t matter to most people; they look at us ‘fat’ people and imagine in their head everything they would do to us to make us thin and what society says we should be. They’re also probably making a meal plan to whip us into shape. I know for a fact that my body is naturally curvy and not straight up and down.¬†

I’ve always been overweight I even wrote a blog post about it (https://depresssedmesswithanxietyandgrief.wordpress.com/2016/01/29/always-always-always-the-fat-friend/). I’ve also always been bullied and ridiculed and judged because of my weight and what the number on the scale said. Even the teachers at school would make a face when they would write my weight down after I got weighed during P.E class. ¬†
There is absolutely no reason that being overweight and not under 60kg should affect us or anybody else out there. We should be able to look the way we look and be confident and happy about it and not go out and feel like everyone is looking at you and judging you because of the size that you are. 

I honestly don’t think I’d care how I looked if I didn’t grow up with society’s words in my head that ‘fat’ is unhealthy and no good and skinny is great and what you need to be. I don’t need to be anything except me and yet I feel as though I can’t do that because everywhere I look someone is telling me different and that what I look like isn’t ok.¬†

There is nothing wrong with being different. Why would we all want to be and look the same? That would be so boring. 
I wish we could all grow up in a world where being overweight is ok and being skinny is ok and just being yourself is ok. 

In the olden days if you were ‘fat’ it was good! It meant that you were wealthy and of the upper class and if you were skinny you were poor and of the lower class because you couldn’t afford to eat.¬†

Being a female in today’s society is hard enough without the added pressure and judgment of being not the ideal weight. We are looked down upon my men as being less than them and being overweight just adds more fuel to their ‘I’m better than all women’ fire. ¬†If a man is overweight he is no where near as judged like a woman being over weight is judged. And isn’t it ironic that a lot of the men judging us and discriminating against us because of our weight are over weight themselves?¬†

It’s so wrong that we still feel the need for a man’s approval of how we act, look, talk and behave. We are the only people who need to seek approval of ourselves, no one else has that right.¬†

We need to start telling future women that being ‘fat’ and overweight is ok and there’s nothing to be ashamed of if you are. Future women should be able to go out into the world feeling confident about themselves and not like they have to hide and try to blend into the crowds.¬†

I wish everyday that when I woke up and looked in the mirror I was happy about what I saw and not disgusted.
When I look in the mirror all I see are my stretch marks and flabby bits and my big thighs and my flabby arms. I don’t see anything past that.¬†

I have spent the past 4 years trying to lose weight and become skinny. Some ‘fat’ women are totally confident in their body and I think that that’s amazing and I applaud them but for me personally I can’t stand my body. In the past year and a half I have lost 16kgs and that’s great but it’s not even half way. Deep down I don’t feel like I’m meant to be ‘fat’ and overweight, I feel like I should be slim. I also have a health conditions that makes me gain weight but most of the time I forget about that and just hate on myself instead of being kind to myself and loving myself.¬†

A lot of my social anxiety comes from my weight and how I think I am perceived by other people when I’m out. I’m now at the point that when I go out with mum to eat I am acutely aware of all the people around me and wondering of they’re judging me on what I eat and looking to see how much I am eating. I can never relax and just be me.¬†

Can we also talk about how sh** the BMI scale is?! Ugh!!!

We all need to learn how to love ourselves and be able to look in the mirror and say “I am beautiful and I am worthy of love and I love myself.”

I really do hope that one day society can see ‘fat’ and overweight women as equals and as humans who deserve the same respect and treatment as skinny people.¬†

There’s this lady on Instagram who is all about body positivity you should go check her out:¬†https://www.instagram.com/bodyposipanda/?hl=en

Also check out Clementine Ford, she’s all about feminism and is great:¬†https://www.instagram.com/clementine_ford/?hl=en

Keep safe,
Maddy xoxo 

Feel free to follow me on twitter: https://twitter.com/Its_me_MaddyO

 

 

 

 

 

Standard
Abuse, Body image, Chronic health condition, Death, Depression, Exhausted, Family, Grief, Step-father, Tired

What happens after (Part 1)

What happens after you have a horrible step-father, your brother dies, you’re kicked out of your home, you get a plethora of health conditions, you become incredibly depressed, you become suicidal and you have such bad anxiety that some days you can’t even look out the windows or leave the house because of how anxious you feel? What happens after all that? Well, it changes you in ways you didn’t know even existed and you learn to live with everything as sad as it sounds. How I’ve felt for the past 4 years has become my normal and that’s so depressing because my new normal is sh**! The only good thing I still have is my mum, that’s all. One person keeping me here on earth.¬†

I think I’ll talk about each issue separately starting with Michael:

A week after Chase died I was forced back to school by my horrible step-father, he went to work and my poor mum was left at home to deal with the silence and horrendous memories of the house alone. We were all forced to go back to normal by Michael (horrible¬†step-father) but how were we meant to go bak to normal when our normal had changed so drastically and completely in 12 weeks? I don’t understand how he was able to get up and go to work so soon after! Like what?! Who does that?¬†Michael also thought that two weeks after we buried my brother he would talk to me about how I’ve put on a little bit of weight and how I need to loose that and be more active outside. Yeah thanks Michael, that really helped. Psychotic asshole.¬†

¬†Michael was what you didn’t want in a father or step-father. He was angry, mean, cruel, hurtful, cold, selfish, fake, narcissistic, jealous, abusive and the biggest asshole to walk this planet. He was so mean and cruel to me for no reason. He used to tell me that I was fat and lazy and that I will end up smoking bongs on the couch doing noting with my life. After dinner when I would wash the dishes he would just sit in his spot at the head of the table and glare at me for no reason. I could feel him staring at me and judging me and sending his hate towards me while I was cleaning the pots and pans. He used to also lock me outside after I got home from school because he wanted me to spend more time outside and my mum couldn’t do anything because if she spoke up he would punish the rest of us and not give us money for food or firewood for the heater or water for the water tank and then mum, my brothers and I would all have to suffer at the hands of his anger. Mum stood up for me when he really crossed the line but in the end I learnt how to keep out of his way and stay away from him. When he wasn’t home after I would come home from school that was when mum and I caught up but as soon as I heard his truck or car come up the driveway I would run up to my room and not come back down until dinner time.¬†
I didn’t have much of a social life because all of my friend were scared and didn’t¬†like Michael, they didn’t want to come over and talk or see him and I don’t blame them, I didn’t want to be there either. I would often think¬†about running away but then where would I go? And leave mum there alone? I don’t think so plus I had no where to go.¬†

Michael started being mean to me at around the age of 10 as I was getting my own thoughts and feelings towards people and individuating into my own person. He didn’t like that I started seeing him as he was and not as the perfect do no wrong step-father I always thought he was. When I turned a little older that’s when the real glaring, judgement and negative comments would come.
When he and mum were fighting he would all of a sudden be nice to me and pay an interest in my stuff but that would only last until mum sucked up and apologise to him. Once they were back together and ‘all good’ again he would go back to not paying any interest in me and my school stuff and ignore my reports that I would want to show him because I got A’s and I was proud of that.¬†

Michael thought he knew everything about everything when in fact he knew very little. I understand that because he was raised by not very warm and loving parents and he grew up the hard way moulds him into who he is today but I don’t understand why he then has to teach his kids and treat his kids how he was treated. He never loved me, he saw me as a nuisance and a road block in the way of what he really wanted which was mum. When we used to go out as ‘one big happy family’ Michael would literally push me out of the way if I was walking next to mum because he wanted to walk next to her instead; how petty is that? I’m just a kid wanting to walk next to her mum and Michael the big bully has to come and push me out of the way. In the end it got very hard not to show my hatred towards him, it got harder everyday not to snap and tell him how much I hated him but in reality that would never happen because I was scared of him. He was a big, tall, angry, scary and a violent man. I never stood a chance.¬†

I don’t and never will blame or resent mum for staying with Michael for so long. I understand that she had no money of her own and no place to go or support, she also had Dusty (my other brother) and Chase to think about. We were stuck. All of us were abused by Michael and it has affected me in so many ways. Nearly every night I have a nightmare with Michael in it, if I hear a car that sounds like his I get anxiety and have to stop from having a panic attack and now I have such bad self esteem and body issues because of him and what he used to say to me that I loathe myself. I can’t look in the mirror without hating what I see. He used to also call me lazy all the time so now when I’m too tired to do anything because of my chronic fatigue instead of understanding that I have an illness and I’m unwell I just think of myself as lazy which means mum spends a lot of time reassuring me and reminding me that I’m not lazy and that I’m unwell with a medical condition and valid reasons for sitting on the couch watching TV.¬†

I often watch movies where the girl has the perfect dad who loves and cares for her and so wish that I could have what she has. I know that a lot of girls don’t have a dad like that but I still can’t help but wish that I had a dad who would do anything for them and who builds them up instead of smashing them down. Michael was a horrid man and I will always have to go through life with the damage that he’s caused to me and my body; mental and physical. I never want to see Michael or talk to him again, he contributed to my brokenness. One day I might be able to forgive him but that’s not right now.
I try, I really do but it’s so hard when I still think and am reminded about everything he did. It also doesn’t help that when Dusty comes over he’s a¬†constant reminder by the way he acts and what he says, he’s exactly like Michael. Dusty has no respect for me and thinks I’m fat and lazy just like Michael does.¬†

Getting kicked out of home with nothing but a few boxes of my clothes:

It was a Thursday night and mum and Michael had been fighting for quite a while. Mum had cooked us all dinner but Michael wasn’t home; he came home after dinner had been served and we had cleaned up. Dusty was still eating his though and he wanted some more cheese but we didn’t have any as we had used it for our dinner. Michael went and warmed up his dinner and Dusty asked for some more cheese, Michael went to the fridge to get some out but as there wasn’t any left he started slamming things and yelling at mum about there not being any cheese. Mum went down to her room and Michael sat down to eat his dinner a few minutes later Micahel got up and stormed down the hallway to their room where mum was. He slammed the door and started yelling at her. Mum started yelling out that Michael was hurting her and to let her go and to stop touching her, I eventually went down do their room (I had NEVER interrupted their fights before, I usually go to my room) and opened the bedroom door and screamed at Michael to let her go. He had mum by the wrists and was screaming angry words and threats right in her face.¬†He looked like a mad man and when I walked in. He let her go and told mum that she needs to get out of the house and that he’ll give her 6 hours to move out tomorrow (so Friday) after he had physically assaulted mum and told her to get us out he turned around and yelled at me right in my face to get the hell out of his way; he didn’t say it in exactly those words though. I honestly thought he was going to physically hurt me too. After had he had finished yelling at us and being physical with mum he went down and ate his dinner. Yes that’s right, after all that anger and getting physical with mum and went back to the dinner table and ate his dinner like nothing had happened, what a psycho. Who does that? Who can physically assault his wife and demand that she moves out of ‘his house’ and then go and eat dinner like nothing had happened in the past half an hour? A psychopath that’s who. After he finished dinner he went outside and got the boxes from storage and gave them to mum and told her to pack up her sh** and then he left again. Mum and I started to pack Chase’s room first, taking the most sentimental stuff like his clothes and toys and a few of his funeral programmes. After Chase’s room I went up and threw all of my clothes into boxes not taking notice of what I took and what I left. I left so many of my things behind, I literally only took my clothes. On Friday I took the day off school and mum and I moved our boxes to mum’s little investment house in the town over. The house was incredibly small with only one bedroom, no heater, no water, no gas, no firewood and no cooling; not that we needed cooling as it was the middle of winter! Mum and I had managed to move all our clothes and stuff within the 6 hours that Michael gave us to move out.

The hardest part of getting kicked out¬†was leaving Chase’s room and everything in there. Chase’s room was where I could go and cry and miss him without the judgment of Michael. Living in that little house was incredibly hard when there was 3 people living in a one bedroom house. Dusty and I slept on mattresses that were given to us by friends on the floor in the bedroom meanwhile mum slept on a mattress in the lounge room.¬†
There was no privacy at that house and no place where I could go and break down and let out all the feelings I had abut what had happened and Michael. We got through it though and after mum borrowed quite a lot of money off one of her friends we were able to get out of that tiny house and move into a normal size house where I had my own bedroom and bathroom and mum had her own bedroom and bathroom. Plus it had heating and cooling which was great! My anxiety was just starting out but it wasn’t that bad that I couldn’t go to school or leave the house. My depression also wasn’t bad either, it was¬†a year¬†after Chase had died so I was still in the numb, processing stage and hadn’t completely gotten the fact that my brother had died.

Health conditions (Gastroparesis, chronic fatigue syndrome, pelvic floor dysfunction):

My health conditions mostly started after we moved into the normal house. That’s when the extreme bloating, pain, fatigue and other yucky symptoms started to happen. It’s also when my anxiety became severe and so did my depression and I ended up leaving¬†my¬†mainstream school and enrolling into Distance Education. I’ll talk about my anxiety and depression more in part 2 of ‘What happens after’¬†but for now I’ll talk about all the stomach issues and fatigue.¬†

After I had left my school and started Distance Education I’d wake up every day looking 7 months pregnant and in a lot of pain. I would also sleep for 15 hours a day and be fatigued for the rest of the hours I was awake. I made trips to the emergency room quite a few times because of my bloating and pain and also because I would have blood in my poo (TMI I know, but that’s part of my life and this is a blog about my life so…) which isn’t normal. I would always get sent home from the hospital and told that I was fine and to take over the counter pain relief; it didn’t help with all the other symptoms, it helped with the pain a little but but that’s it. I got referred to see a gastroenterologist at the Royal Children’s Hospital and he booked me in for a colonoscopy and endoscopy. As I had thought they didn’t find anything and he told me to go home and to come back in a few months. Well, I wasn’t happy with that so I went and saw a paediatrician who told me I have chronic fatigue syndrome and associated POTS but my bowel issues and bloating was because I was overweight and that I just had to lose the weight and I’d be fine. Yeah thanks. Mum and I were relieved that we finally had an answer as to why I was so tired all the time and got exhausted walking from my bedroom to the lounge room, but as my stomach issues persisted and I still had pain, bloating and blood in my poo we went and got a referral from my GP to go see a different gastroenterologist privately. My new gastroenterologist has been great up until now as there’s not much more he can do for me unfortunately.¬†

When I went in for my first appointment he took me very seriously and listened to everything I had to say and told me that he thinks that I have Ulcerative Colitis, he put me on steroids and booked me into hospital to have another colonoscopy done and to get an MRI. Well, I went on the steroids and got the unfortunate side effects from them (extreme hunger, mood swings, moon face ect) and then went into hospital for what turned out to be a week long stay. I had to do a 3 day flush out which meant I couldn’t eat anything solid for three days and had to take a number of disgusting laxatives. If you’re reading this and you’ve had to have a colonoscopy before then you know what I mean when I say the actual flushout stuff¬†is the most disgusting thing in this world. Anyway, I did the colonoscopy and they didn’t find anything (typical) so I was taken off the steroids and then had to have an MRI done of my whole digestive system; that was super uncomfortable as I had to lay on my stomach for an hour. Once again they didn’t find anything abnormal and I was told I just have sever IBS and I was sent home and to get another follow up appointment with my gastroenterologist. We went back to him and he told me because I’m so constipated I have to do a flush out once EVERY MONTH! Nooooo¬†ūüė©ūüė∑ So I continued doing that and as nothing was improving, I was still bloated, in pain and constipated¬†he¬†told me that I needed to go get a gastric emptying study done (http://www.medicinenet.com/gastric_emptying_study/article.htm). So I went and did that and FINALLY something came back abnormal and we got some answers. It turns out I have something called Gastroparesis. This pretty much means that my stomach is a little bit paralysed and doesn’t empty food as quickly as a normal stomach does. I can’t tell you how relieved I was that I finally had some answers! So the end diagnosis¬†with my stomach is sever IBS and Gastroparesis. My gastroenterologist has put me on a medication called Motilium which has really helped; I can now eat without getting a severe stomach ache and severe nausea which is nice. I still get pain, I’m still bloated and I still get constipated but now I know why.¬†
The cause of my constipation isn’t just from my gastroparesis and IBS though, it turns out I also have Pelvic Floor Dysfunction. The problem with my pelvic floor is that it’s always tight and doesn’t relax and let go. You know when you do your kegel exercises and you can squeeze in and then relax again, well my pelvic floor doesn’t relax when I let go.¬†This¬†means that it’s hard for my poo to come out and it also means I can rarely use a tampon when I get my period. I have exercises I do but otherwise there’s not much else I can do at the moment.¬†
I’ve talked about my Chronic Fatigue before so I won’t go into that again…¬†https://depresssedmesswithanxietyandgrief.wordpress.com/2016/07/28/living-life-in-the-slooooooow-lane/

Alright peeps, this is a really long post so I’ll leave it here and I’ll upload part 2 next week. Stay safe.¬†

Maddy xoxo 

PS- Go check out a singer called Agnes Obel if you don’t know her already. She has some beautiful songs.¬†

Standard
Depression

Depression will probably be the death of me

I have suffered depression for about a year and a half now. It was manageable in the first six months, but then it started getting worse.
The feelings that I were experiencing were different from anything I have ever felt before and that scared me. It overwhelmed me. I wish I could say that with all the counselling I got and my one supportive parent that I had, I have gotten on top of it a year later, but no, I am still drowning in the black hole that is depression. It’s true what they say, it honestly does feel like there is a little black dog following you around all the time ruining what little happiness you may experience. It is hard work getting rid of this dog, I am still working profusely to get rid of it. This dog seems to posses magic powers though, the power of making me want to kill myself. It’s not easy fighting off those thoughts of “You’re nothing” ,”You’re worthless and no one will ever end up loving you”, “You’re stupid and fat and no one is going to want to be around you” my favourite one though is “Just kill yourself already and end it all, because honestly what is the point of living? You have nothing to live for”. That last thought is the main thought I have to battle with. It crawls into my mind nearly everyday, just egging me on to give up and leave the one person who is there for me through thick and thin; my beautiful and amazing mother. I could never leave my mum. She is my rock and I hers, but a lot of the time it feels like her rock is getting smaller and it’s not big enough for me to hold on to anymore. Suicide is not fun. It makes me feel weak and like a failure. I do not like feeling like that Sam I am. I want to feel powerful and strong, but that damn dog just loves to bite me and remind me of all the reasons why I can’t be powerful and strong apparently. I try and not listen to those unhelpful and mean thoughts, but it’s easier said than done.

It seems that¬†I am still ‘here’ ¬†though, wherever that is. I must admit that I have had a helping hand from¬†the psychiatric hospital once or twice… and BTW, the psych ward is NO trip to Luna Park! It is cold, lonely, boring and depressing as hell!

I have worked for a long time with my psychologist to help ‘kill’ my little puppy that seems intent on hanging around with me and my bros (Ha! Just kidding! I have no friends, but that’s another story for another day. ūüôā ) I have tried Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT), altering my negative thoughts to positive thoughts, medication, the psych ward¬†and what else? Oh thats right! A little bit of exercise just to spice¬†things up a bit…. But in my defence that was really hard to do because my toes had to have surgery on them which I got done last week, so once they heal up 100% I can start to go for walkies every day! Yay!!! ūüėČ

At the end of the exhausting day my aim is to wake up one day and not see the black canine wagging its tale ready for what feels¬†like round one billionth in the never ending ball game of ‘Lets see what can wear Maddy down the most to see her break and try to stab herself or overdose!” Sounds like a fun game huh? Do you wanna join in?

I guess at the end of the day though, the only person who can help me is myself. And I am trying to work on myself as much as I can.

Keep safe peeps,
Maddy xoxo

 

Standard
Grief

Grief takes time… Bite me!!!

Everyone says grief is normal, but unless those people telling you it’s normal have been through grief, they don’t know how not normal it feels! Grief is not something you can put a time limit on. It takes time; sometimes lots of time.

Two years ago my five-year old brother died from a brain tumor, it has been two years but it feels like it happened yesterday, ten years ago or not at all! When you’re grieving it seems like there is no way to measure time. Time just doesn’t seem to exist… I have heard from many people that the first year is the hardest after losing someone who is close to you, I call that bull***t. It is as hard for me today as it was two years ago.

Grief is one of those emotions  that you can not explain; there are absolutely no words to describe how it actually feels to grieve the loss of a loved one.

Psychologists say that there are seven stages to the grief cycle, they are: shock/disbelief, denial, bargaining, guilt, anger, depression and acceptance. I can tell you now that I still go through all of those stages every day.

It is so important to have friends and family surrounding you when you’re grieving. But you really want those friends and family members to be understanding and not judging. There is nothing worse than feeling rushed when you are going through the grieving process. I had supportive friends for around the first six months to a year but as soon as it hit the year mark of my brothers death, they literally said that I need to be happier and get on with my life! Like wtf?! What a stupid and incredibly insensitive thing to say…

No one understands how it feels to lose a brother unless they’ve lost their own brother. I miss him every day, he was the closest person to me except for my mum.

Keep strong guys, and I’ll keep strong too.

Xoxo

Standard