I’ve always been afraid of the sound of my own tears

So…apparently you need to hit rock bottom before you can bounce back up again.

The thing is I’ve always been afraid to do that – afraid I will stretch the elastic that is the fabrics of my life and there won’t be the bounce left to pull me back up again.

So I’ve always stopped myself from hitting the bottom, I’ve sure flirted with it in my lifetime but I’ve never actually met it. I’ve seen people who have. Not all of them have ended with a ‘happily ever after.’ Now this would get many people saying that there is no such thing as a ‘happily ever after’ or a ‘happy ending.’ To me that is just a depressing way to think – you have to have a little magic and a little make believe in your life.

‘Every day I tell myself a little harmless lie, the whole wide world is mine.’ – Blink182

Throw into the mix the upbringing of a traditional English family and you get that stiff upper lip thing about not admitting that things are sometimes just not ok. It’s seen as a flaw, but to me it seems more of a character flaw to not admit that sometimes things are not ok. We are not super human. We learn by our mistakes, we learn and grow from the bad times, we only know our own strength by the forces that knock us down. If life was ‘just peachy’ all the time – you wouldn’t be overly happy because that feeling would become the norm’. So, in a nutshell, not being ok all of the time is a good thing.

But what about when you find it’s not just some of the time? What about when you suddenly realise you can’t remember the last time you felt ‘great’? Or the last time you woke up feeling refreshed? What about when you realise that your thoughts are darker than any cave you’ve been in, darker than any highway at night or blacker than any night sky you’ve seen?

What about when you realise that despite all that you have learnt about yourself, you just don’t know what to do with the information that you have? My doctor told me that she has never known someone counsel themselves as well as I have and that when I find out what to do with all that I have learnt I am going to be a force of nature.

I like the thought of being a force of nature.

I think I just need to have someone show me the right path to choose to get there because it feels as though my shoe laces are tied and every turn I take I just end up tripping myself up.

I am not used to this. By nature I’ve always been the girl that will say it’s all ok and only take her mask off when alone in her room. I will fake it until I feel it for real. I always wake up full of excitement for the day ahead, each day a new challenge, a fresh start, full of possibility. I am the girl that is almost annoying in her quest to find the positive in something. A fixer upper. It’s new to me to not have that bounce in my step, not to have that happy flair running through me all day. I am not used to not knowing what to do.

The scary thing is – this is not something that happened over night. I realise now that it’s been the last 4 years, things have slowly been chipping away at me until I feel so raw that everything near me hurts.

So why am I writing this? Why am I showing you all my rawness? Well, it is cathartic for one. Should I post it? Who knows. The thing is – I am so tired of pretending things are ok. So bored of everyone doing that. I think it’s time we were all a bit more honest with ourselves and each other. It’s ok to be down sometimes. It’s ok to need help. I am supposed to be an adult but the truth is I still lose my way – I still have no idea what I am doing from one minute to the next. And that’s ok.

What’s not ok is that I have a fear of hitting the bottom but I have decided to let myself do that. Does that sound too controlled? Well it’s not. I feel I have no choice. For once I am free falling with no idea how to stop it. No idea how to put the brakes on. All I can do is brace myself for the inevitable impact and hope I take out as few things as possible. I want my landing to be gentle. I have my fears it won’t be. But I am hoping by being honest with myself and anyone who cares to read this that maybe I can lessen the impact of my fall. I won’t break; I will just bruise a little.

So what has happened in the last 4 years or so to trigger this downward spiral?

Many good things – believe me – many good things have happened. But the bad things are the ones that have obviously tripped me up.

I’ve had two people really close to me go through really bad depressions. That’s affected me and I’ve tried to help and I want to praise them both for how well they are doing.
My Granddad recently died. I miss him. What he went through towards the end sucked. This affected me.
My Father has been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and his cancer is back – you better believe this has affected me.
I have been long term sick, ill for over 6 years – but I am getting there. I’ve documented before the tip of the iceberg of what I have been going through – you are right – this has affected me too –more than I realised. I am still trying to get my anaemia and energy levels sorted. I am exhausted all the time. I still have some tumours that are draining me of nutrients and cause discomfort. They mess with your hormones, so yes, like it or not these are affecting me.
A few months ago I was the victim of an assault. I am waiting for physio for torn tissues in my shoulder and neck, I am on medication for the head pains and there is the consciousness of the head injury – thankfully my hair is growing back, most don’t notice it but I do.
So yeah – there has been a lot to deal with in the last few years.
I don’t expect sympathy or anything for any of the above as it is called life, shit happens, just like things sparkle sometimes too.

So please don’t think it’s all been bad. I’ve seen a close friend get married to her perfect person, I’ve embarked on a counselling course, I’ve passed a writing course, I’ve written my first novel, I’ve won a competition for some writing that I did, I have had many wonderful moments with friends and loved ones, and I am alive, there are so many things to be grateful for. And I am.

The thing is I know that the road is getting darker – the light at the end of the tunnel is looking very dim right now and that is something I wanted to explore.

Tell me how you get yourself out of that moment? Tell me your tales of hitting the bottom and getting back up again. I am also reaching out to people to let them know we all struggle – no one is immune. I will update this as well as I am determined to get better and get to my happy old self again.

One thing that I know I have really struggled with is friends and doubting myself too much. At the height of my illness I quit a job to focus on getting better. I thought I was firmly on the road to recovery, got out all the job papers, went to an interview, got the job and thought the rest would be history.

Wrong.

I have a lovely group of friends that I am so grateful for – they are a wonderful mix of characters and they have really been there for me and I thank them a million times over for being them. I had another group of friends that I really thought would be friends for life. I got ill. I didn’t know what was wrong. At one point I was told by a doctor to prepare myself as they thought I had cancer. It was just before Christmas. I told one friend and kept it to myself. Thankfully it turned out not to be cancerous tumours. Phew. But I was still ill, too ill to leave the house on many occasions. I had an iron reading lower than a nurse had ever seen for someone still walking. But believe me I couldn’t do that easily. I had to rest after every 3 steps climbed. And my friends were asking me why I wasn’t going out clubbing? Why I wasn’t going to their events? I had no answer at the time other than I was exhausted, I was ill but I didn’t know what was going on. I felt that some people didn’t believe me and thought I was making excuses. I had an operation. I fucked it on the operating table but obviously came back round. I came out of hospital. My boyfriend was there for me. My family was there for me….some friends were there for me….but not all. I took it personally. I felt so let down.

I felt like I had been a really bad judge of character. I felt like I was a bad person for friends to abandon me in my neediest moment. It made me wary of my judgement of people. I found I was thinking I must be a bad person and how no one could like me. I never really admitted these feelings out loud, maybe if I had done so then many things could’ve been solved. Maybe I sound silly for saying all this but this is how it was. Sadly I’ve let it eat away at me. I am constantly worried of having nothing to say, of not being good enough, of being a bad person, even when I know I am not, I am scared of letting people get close. I’ve only just realised how bad that has become. I see pictures of my old friends out together and they look happy and I love them. But they hurt me. That’s the honest truth. And I stupidly let that get to me.

I quit the job I was in to focus on getting better. I found a job near to home, it was a lovely place and I thought I was finally getting back to being me. But the thing I didn’t take into account was that I was in an office on my own. So 5 years into this job I feel like I don’t really know my colleagues. This is new to me and it bothers me as I’ve always made friends in every job I’ve been in. I bounce off people so putting me on my own means I shut down. You miss the day to day banter and I’m quite a sensitive person (you may have noticed) so it means I used to miss out on all the invites to going out – so yeah I took it personally.

I kicked myself up the bum and decided to stop being stupid and to make sure I found out about things and went, not wait to be asked but do the asking. So I went out a few times with work and had a nice time. The attack happened. It left me with serious concussion and head pain, vision problems and a huge patch of hair was missing (thank god for my mom passing on the genetics to have huge hair). Over drinks at work we were all having an innocent joke when one person turned to me and said something really low. On the outside I laughed. Inside I was stunned. What a low blow. I spoke to a few people about it and they were floored, thought it was disgusting, nasty and way below the belt and that I would be best to steer clear of such people.

But how do I tackle this social phobia that has gripped me? How do I just accept that my ‘old friends’ and I were obviously just not meant to be, that we are all destined for other things, it’s nothing personal, why do I have to take it personally? Why do I not accept my current friends’ judgements of me as being a lovely, interesting, funny person? Why do I constantly have to fill my head with negative thoughts about myself and no doubt I am projecting my fears on to people. How do I just forget this person at work and not let their behaviour bother me? Do you ever stop doubting yourself? It’s so easy when you feel so low to just hide and not go out and just appear aloof but that’s not me and I don’t want it to be the person I become. How do you stop beating yourself up? How do you move on….wards and upwards when you feel like you are cornered by your phobias at every turn? I don’t want antidepressants – a counsellor won’t tell me anything I don’t already know – I know the causes – I just don’t know how to put them right.

If I find the answers I will share them with you all – because apparently Social Phobia is the third largest mental health issue in the world today.

It takes just one moment to reach out but the effect could last a life time

There’s a faraway tear in her eye. Reflected in it are the times she wishes she could lose. The times she doesn’t want but they stick around. Stuck in her head. They weep out of the cuts in her arms, they flood toward the floor, they pool with the tears, yet they still don’t go. They won’t drain away.
She’s been crying for an hour. It’s gone from full on racking sobs to slow silent streams, cascading down her pretty face. The face she hates to look at. The face that makes her jump back from her reflection.
Sometimes she looks into the mirror, really looks, she leans forward so her breath starts to steam up the mirror, her nose touches the coldness of the glass, making her gasp slightly.
She stares, deeper into the mirror – something in the back of her mind takes her back to her childhood story books – she reaches out to the glass but only hears and feels her fingernails tap against it. There is no looking glass, no face to tell her she looks great, nothing in the mirror, nothing on the other side but a wall.
She sighed, it echoed around the bathroom. It whispered back towards her, cold and breathy.
She shivered and looked about. No one was there. Nothing was around. Just herself, her shadow and her destructive thoughts.
She pulled the brush through her hair, roughly, hurting herself, she gritted her teeth to the pain – trying to let all her emotions fall into that pain, to find some form of release.
It didn’t work.
She pulled her hair up, twisting it into a top knot, securing it with some pins.
She took out her hair smoothing cream and warmed it in her hands, smoothing it over the little baby hairs on her head, keeping her hairstyle very neat and prim.
She put her hands on the basin, her arms were rigid, looking down the plughole staring at the water bubbling just out of reach. She sighed again.
‘Get a grip!’ she seethed to herself.
She looked up and beamed at her reflection. The perfect fake smile. She looked at each individual feature as she carefully applied her make up, making sure she never looked at her face as a hole. She focused on her lips as she drew in her lip line. She focused on each eye at a time as she carefully drew on her eyeliner and brushed on three coats of mascara.
She pulled on her perfectly pressed skirt. She looked up catching herself off guard.
She slumped back against the wall, sinking to the floor. The tears came again.
She let them flow. She looked around her helplessly. She caught the glint of metal glistening on top of the toilet basin, she stared at it, it appeared to glow. As though she had no control over her arm, she watched it reach out, stretching towards the metal. As her finger tips made contact she felt her adrenalin soar. She reached out delicately with her fingers, stretching to make contact. She felt her fingers wrap around the razor blade. She held it up in front of her face, she took a deep, excited breath and drew it across her arm.
At first she felt nothing, just a cold steel feel go through her. Then the wetness as the blood began to bubble and break through the surface of the skin. Her head went back against the wall and her eyes fluttered closed, just like a junkie getting their morning fix.
The pain helped her forget, helped her feel alive, dragged her out of her despair.
Minutes later she was plunged back deeper than ever. She looked at her arms with disgust. They were all scarred and marked, old scars, new scars, fresh wounds. They disgusted her. She didn’t want to be like this. She wanted to feel normal. To be happy. To be able to ride the ups and downs of life and learn from them. Not hide here on the bathroom floor.
She quickly got up and ran the cold water tap over her arm. She sat down letting the blood stop and the body start to take control in helping her heal. She patted down her hair and continued to get dressed.
Twenty minutes later she marched into her office. Once again the cool, calm business woman that looked so composed, that seemed to have everything under her control, who could handle anything, little miss unflappable.
If only they knew, if only her work colleagues knew the truth.
She wished they did. She wished she had someone close to her that she could talk to, who she could share her fears and weaknesses with. Someone that would hold her when she began to shake and cry. Someone that would kick her when she needed to buck up, but would hold her hand when she needed that extra bit of strength. She wanted to scream out the truth to them all but her voice always caught in her throat. She didn’t want to act anymore. She wanted to get better. She wanted to feel alive again, to feel all the ups and downs, to be human again.
She felt her legs start to quiver and quickly headed to her desk. She sat down heavily in her chair and turned on her computer, tapping out replies to emails on auto drive.
Then she stopped.
A piece of paper on her desk caught her eye. On it was written a phone number. A helpline. Underneath it was the name of her colleague and her phone number. Another helpline, but of a more human kind. ‘Don’t suffer alone. Dinner at mine tonight, we’ll talk.x’
So someone had noticed after all.
More than that, they had done something about it, they had reached out.
She felt the relief cruise through her veins, her adrenaline pumping in fear, in happiness, for she was no longer alone, someone had taken the time and that was all it took, just a little time, a little energy, the kindness of humans. The importance of reaching out. To see beyond one’s nose. To care. To just take a moment to look around.
She picked up the phone and dialled the number on the paper. Life was finally going to begin again.

Do you ever get a crisis of confidence?

All around you are perfected airbrushed images.
Then you see those people in real life and it can be like seeing a totally different person.
Being in the world of fame must be hard due to that very fact.
You must constantly feel like you are not yourself!
Marilyn Monroe used to cry a lot, from what I hear, about the fact that everyone loved Marilyn but no one cared about her, plain old Norma Jean.

It makes you wonder if anyone truely feels confident and content with their lot.

It was said years ago that I would never be happy – it wasn’t meant negatively – it was meant that I am always striving for more. It’s true – I think you have to keep yourself on your toes to keep yourself learning and growing as a human being, otherwise you just stagnate and that’s not good for the soul, or for those around you.

Some days I sit and smile to myself, happy with all that I have. Yet with just a flick of a switch I am verging on tears, feeling like a failure, that has next to nothing in my life.

Why is this?
Hormones?
Comparing myself to others?
Maybe that is one of the biggest flaws we all have. Comparing ourselves to others? For at the end of the day – we don’t really know everything about anyone else – we only know what they let us know and a little of things we find out. Many people don’t even take the time to get to know themselve properly, so it’s no wonder there are all these crises of identies going on.

Today I might feel really blessed with all the friends I have, but tomorrow I might sit in a panic and start counting friends and feel like the biggest loser in town.

I am guessing reality lies somewhere in the middle.

If I just stopped sub-consciously comparing myself to others maybe I’d be OK.

I mean I do alright, I have a nice job, I have a small group of amazing people around me, I am studying a course, I am writing my second book, I am trying to learn to play piano, I enjoy photography, I know how to chill out and switch off, I enjoy and appreciate the outside world….so all in all I am probably not doing so bad.

Maybe I am seeking reassurance here or maybe I am trying to let you all know that you are probably ok too.

When love walks out the door……

…..it can make your soul bleed.
You feel like you will never feel anything but this pain and hurt and confusion again.
You will cry, you will weep, you will mourn, you will freeze, you will just stare into space, you will feel like you will never be normal again.
Then you will get angry.
Spitting crying raging angry.
Then you will be empty and numb.
You will still feel like you will never get over this.
But you will.

All that pain – it’s been there to make sure you do something.
It’s been making you think, making you analyse, giving you a bit of space and time to yourself.

If you are smart you will assess things and look at what went right and what not so well, you will learn, you will grow and you will become a much better human being for it.

When you are in the thick of it – any advice will make you mad – but do believe it – because the old cliches are old because they are true. Time will really heal you and that is all you need.

That, and some good friends and family, silly films and a tub of ice cream.

Allow yourself to greive.

Then embrace the new, improved you.

Go into the world bigger and bolder, able to love again and willing to love again.
Work at your own pace, don’t set time limits.
Those that fail normally bounce from one relationship to the other, never growing or learning and just getting bitter.

You may need some motivation to get you through the first stages. There’s nothing like sticking your fingers up to your past love by going out there and being fabulous.

You have to ultimately do all this for you though.

One other thing to remember….you are not alone, we’ve all had these moments or we all will – we will all feel like a failure but the only failing is if you don’t allow yourself to learn.

You will love again. Bigger and better than ever before.

Live your life with no regrets.

Treat everything as an education.

Some learning curves are just steeper than others BUT you only really learn from the bad times – the best songs and poems were written through the heartache and the low periods in life.

Without them we can’t appreciate the good.

We need the lows and the highs to function.

You wouldn’t get a rainbow without rain.

And as I so eloquently say – even roses need shit to grow!

Never give up because even in your darkest hour you’ll be surprised what is around the corner!

The serious one.

Prozac nation is a good book – her other work – not so much – but this, this is a great quote.
Read it again and think about it one moment.

We are in a time where there is so much choice.
It could be seen as a good thing but it seems to confuse people and put so much pressure onto everyone.
The idea of success if getting more and more warped over time.
The youth are expecting more and more for doing less and less.
Times are hard.
The average adult is expected to have a whole series of mini break downs in their life time now.
The family unit is broken.
Community spirit barely exists.
We, as intelligent human beings with the capacity to understand so much seem to fail or seem unwilling to try to understand our fellow human being.
We assume if someone smiles that they are happy.
Have you never heard of the tears of a clown?
We think it, therefore we are. Well sadly no that’s not true.

A friend of mine worked with a girl that seemed OK, she seemed to have a nice enough life, she told her she’d been feeling a little down.
She went home that weekend and didn’t arrive at work on Monday, or on Tuesday, people were starting to moan about her, then someone went to her house. She’d killed herself after work on that Friday afternoon.

A young man from Crouch End recently killed himself, on February 14th, I don’t know if the date is significant to the act or not. No one seemed to sense his pain and his anguish. His last tweet now seems to explain a lot. Just like DJAM’s….it seemed like a sad tweet nothing more and nothing less but the body found the next day confirmed it was a signing off from this world.

There were two suicides in one area of London on the tubes on Sunday.

People are still jumping from ‘Suicide bridge’ in Archway.

There are a million and one cases similar to this around the world all the time.

Yet still we won’t talk about depression.

We see it as a dirty word, as though it’s something that is contagious, as though it’s something self indulgent and we should just buck up and stop moaning. We feel that asking for help is a sign of weakness.
We suffer alone.

Can you imagine feeling so lost, taking your own life – that precious thing called life – just taking it and extinguishing the last little bits of light from it?

If only we stopped to care.
If only we stopped the prejudice.

Don’t assume you know someone, don’t assume you know their life and what they are going through.

The man that was just rude to you in the local shop – maybe he’s just lost his loved one.

You can’t go around excusing everyone for everything but I think we can all do a little bit more to understand depression, to try to help and to try to build some form of community again.

We all are more than capable of caring.

Doglets

Pets have been proven to decrease depression.
The bring a pet to work days are always successful and cut the stress in the office quite considerably, apart from for the one person who is petrified of dogs of course!!!

No matter how tough things get

Remember….

Very sadly a young man from the town I live in killed himself last week. It’s tragic.
Such a terrible thing for his friends and his family.
So terrible to think he felt so lost and unable to cope.
Sadly something that is becoming too common.
Yet still we don’t talk about depression with ease.
Still we frown on anyone that has mental health issues.
Still we don’t reach a hand out to help our fellow person.
It is thought that in the current climate each adult will suffer a series of mini breakdowns in their life time – that’s not just one or two we are talking double figures.
Some will pull through them and some will get lost into the dark vacuum of depression.
This time of year is the worst as well – it’s cold, it’s dark – there doesn’t seem to be much to look forward to – it’s expensive.
More and more we are being squeezed.
We are being fed a stream of really depressing news headlines.
Landlords are taking the piss more and more and the government sit by and do nothing.
Everyday tasks become daunting.
Our mask starts to slip.
We start to hide away.
We feel bogged down with no way out.
We should all learn to talk and reach out to each other more.

The Fame Game

Fame is a funny old thing isn’t it.
As I’ve said before – we measure success in a very weird way.
Those that appear to have it just don’t seem very happy to me, not at all, they might do on the surface but if you scratch just a little way underneath, well, it tends not to be too pretty.
Everything I say in the next few lines should be followed with ‘allegedly!’ And also everything I have to say is not an attack on anyone’s character – we all do things we shouldn’t – it’s an observation on ‘fame’ and not a judgement on the people it sucks in.
So, Whitney died. Why were people surprised? Once a drug addict you either get clean or you die – there doesn’t really appear to be a middle ground.
It’s sad. It’s sad that someone got so lost that they threw it all away.
Her daughter was apparently seen snorting cocaine recently – you’d hope her Mother’s life would turn her against such things but you do follow the examples set, unfortunately.
Take Nicole Richie. She seems to be the media darling right now but it was only a couple of years ago – maybe 4, if that, that she was found driving stoned on the wrong side of the highway with a bubble of heroin on her. Seems we’ve all forgotten about that one. Once you have that kind of addiction going on I am pretty sure you fight it forever.
Paris Hilton is constantly reported to have cocaine on her and do I really need to highlight the career of Lindsey Lohan.
Now all youth or nearly all youth seem to dabble with drugs but you figure these people have so much why do they need to get so drawn into a world that doesn’t normally make the happy ever after columns?
It’s even worse for the children of such celebrities and their antics. They have no choice but to be put under the limelight microscope when their parent does something bad. They are subjected to the fall out that they have little or no control over. They have the money but that, as we know, rarely seems to make people happy. Yet we all seem to strive for it. Kids today think being famous is a career choice – they forget it’s meant to be the by product of what they want to do. Ask them what they want to be famous for – and most of them have not got a clue. But then you take the Kardashians – a whole family made famous due to their sister leaking a tape of her having sex. Wow, talented!!!
To have so much money that you can do anything at all you want, it sounds ideal but I am sure it soon leads to boredom. The mind set of those that doggedly hunt down fame and celebrity is something of wonder in itself. They normally are highly insecure people that put themselves into a market where they will get absolute adulation but they will also have to deal with the haters too – so it’s one extreme to the other – if people are indifferent to you then you haven’t really made it, have you! The children of celebrities will inherit these genetics, they will also have as much money at their disposal that they know they don’t have to work – they know they can mess up – do anything – that has to lead to some weird morals. Like you have a confidence that life just can’t teach you when you are born with money. You take certain things for granted that most people never even get a glimpse of, you also have to put up with the gossip mill and the hounding of the press, people waiting for you to mess up, you don’t really know who is your friend and who is intrigued by your family and your fame. Add to that the usual insecurities of youth and it’s not necessarily a happy mixture.
When you have all the money in the world – anything is possible – you are only limited by your imagination – but surely you start to push the boundaries – it’s harder and harder to have fun and get your kicks – people all around you nod their heads –no one dare says no – you lose sight of reality and what is and isn’t acceptable social behaviour. You will always have people that want to hang out with you so you never need to really be held accountable for your actions. If you get caught with drugs that would be the average person in prison you know you’ll probably be told off, get a slapped wrist and be set on your way – you don’t have to be aware of your actions as nothing is really going to touch you – it’s got to be hard then to know your limits and know your boundaries. Most children want discipline and their parents care, what do you do if those parents aren’t there? Do you get more and more outrageous until they notice you? DO you get consumed by loneliness that you have to keep doing outrageous things so that people will remember you as you fear the unknown, falling off the radar?
Now, if you are a true drug addict or alcohol addict a two week stay in rehab is not really going to cure that – to me that’s merely a PR stunt – or the addiction is not real. If you are truly addicted and truly get yourself well you can’t keep the same friends. Yet if you take Nicole Richie again as an example she says quite frequently how she has got the same group of friends that she’s had for years and you hear of some of them getting into trouble for drink driving and being in possession of drugs. Hmmm how does that work? How can you be a recovering addict and be around such things? Or how can you want that company for your child/children?
So is it all a lie – are they all messed up? Is it all the media hype?
I wanted to think it was all media hype but then you get the deaths of Michael Jackson, Whitney Houston, Amy Winehouse, Kurt Cobain etc etc, you get the fall out of Demi Moore, Lindsey Lohan etc etc and it makes you start to wonder.
There is a saying ‘The trappings of fame.’ And the older I get and the more I look into it the more I see a bunch of very insecure people that have a lot of money but seem to be lacking in the basic attention stakes and they look for it in all the wrong places.
It’s wrong to say all famous people are addicts or are all deeply unhappy but the more you look into it the scarier that world of fame appears.