A Positive Start

Well, it’s just past midnight on January 2nd. I am pleased, and actually quite amazed to say that I managed to survive New Year without dissolving into a ball of anxiety, depression and self-loathing like I have done almost every year since I graduated.

If anything, I’m more motivated than ever.

It’s also my birthday. 27 years ago today I shocked (and probably panicked) everyone by deciding that I wanted to take my place in the world 14 weeks ahead of schedule. I got cerebral palsy for my eagerness.

I wish I could say this level of punctuality has followed me into my adult life, but I’d be lying.

For the past few years I haven’t wanted to do anything special for my birthday.

I never really gave that much thought when I was a kid, but now I’m older it feels pretty darn weird. I think it always will now. I mean, why would/should/do I celebrate a day that was probably awful for my family?

This year though, I’ve had a bit of a change of heart. I survived. My mum survived. It was touch and go for a while, but we made it. My dad also managed to come through the whole ordeal too.

My parents were told I’d need speech therapy. I didn’t.

My parents were told I might not crawl. I did. Within two weeks of them being told that.

They were told I might only be able to ‘walk around a supermarket at best’. I think you all know how wrong that turned out to be.

Not only did we all survive, but we stuck two fingers up to every expectation along the way.

And we still do that last part. Every. Single. Day.

I think that’s pretty freaking amazing.

I’m off to celebrate. Who’s with me?

Feeling sorry for myself

Yup, today has been all about me throwing myself a massive pity party. I know I shouldn’t but I am, and even though the only thing I hate more than feeling like this is admitting to anyone that I’m feeling like this, I’m going to tell you about it anyway. There’s no point in me writing a blog about my life with cerebral palsy if I’m not going to be open and honest about the rubbish bits, is there?

It started as just a bad mood. Well, less of a bad mood and more of a difficult depression kind of day – I can tell the difference, because, on difficult depression days, the thought of getting dressed makes me want to cry. Today was one of those. Nonetheless, I managed to pull on some jeans and an over-sized jumper and go pick up my new glasses.

Then my old friend, Mystery Hip Pain kicked in. And it kicked in hard. I’ve had pins and needles in my hip almost constantly from then on and sitting still is hard because getting comfy is pretty much impossible.

If this carries on for more than a couple of days I know that the best thing to do will be to ask to go back to my acupuncturist. She’s amazing at getting the pain to go away again, but I’m always aware of the fact that it’s only about two months since I was last discharged for her service and I’ll feel like I’m being greedy and having more than my fair share of appointments. I know that this shouldn’t even enter my head, but it’s hard not to think about in when everywhere you turn people are talking about how strained the NHS is.

And now I have backache too. Pfft.

Trying not to think too big

Hello everyone and happy New Year. I hope your 2017 has got off to a great start and continues to be good to you.

Even though it has been fun, I am quite glad that all of the festivities are over. Christmas was busy, New Year was busy. My birthday was busy. Life has been busy. But now things can finally get back to normal, which all sounds great, except that I don’t really know what my normal was/is in the first place.

This time of year is hard for me. Everywhere I turn there are people talking about all the great things that they’ve achieved in year gone by, and what they’re hoping to achieve in the one ahead, and how they’re going to get there, and that’s great. Go all of you. I wish you luck.

Yet, it’s impossible to deny that my life has stalled since I graduated university back in 2012. The career I wanted, and still want to have, hasn’t taken off in the way that I would’ve liked which has lead to me still living at home, and that is not where I thought I’d be by the time I turned 26. I have yet to actually manage to get any of my writing published. I do feel like I’m making progress in all of these things though so that’s something. However, this year I have decided that I am not going to set myself any big goals because all that has done in the past is make me miserable and stressed. This year I want to be all about smaller goals, like, maybe not getting my novel draft to an agent, but to get a couple of short stories or poems to a point where I think they might be good enough to send off to competitions. I want to be able to writer shorter to-do lists, rather than making them overly long on purpose because I have a tendency to feel worthless if I’m not being productive enough.

Although last year was a pretty good one for me, it was a bad one for my mental health. I had a couple of massive slumps, and am currently still in one of I’m honest about it. I’m back in CBT therapy and that’s okay.  2017 may not be the year that my career takes off, writing or otherwise, but I would like it to be the year I start to stop thinking so big, and start to allow myself to feel better.

I hope you have a good one,

Nic xx

 

 

 

 

 

Vlog: Haircuts and mental

Okay, so I uploaded this video on my YouTube channel a little while ago and just haven’t had the time to post it here. It’s about the hair cut I’ve just had, and how it’s it’s helped cheer me up during my mental health dip. Anyway, if you haven’t seen it then here it is:

 

If you have no idea what I’m talking about when I say that I’m going through another mental health dip, then the video that I made prior to this one will explain:

Anyway, on a lighter note, I have some much happier updates coming over the next couple of days, so stay tuned for  those. It’s not all bad around here

Being Honest with Myself About My Mental Health – again

Okay, I need to confess a few things.  Mental health things.

If you’ve been hanging around this blog or my YouTube channel for a while, you know I have problems with anxiety, my ‘mood’ (doctors don’t seem to like using the word ‘depression’ these days, it seems) and what I like to call OCD-type tendencies. By this I mean that I wash my hands a lot, change my clothes a lot, worry constantly about germs and sometimes, I even babywipe my clothes WHILE I’M STILL WEARING THEM.

I’ve had therapy on and off for a lot of my life, and have been on pills for a couple of years now. Things were okay for a while. I was almost considering coming off said pills, and then things went downhill. Of course, I should have done something about this as soon as I started slipping but I didn’t.

I tried my best to ignore it, not wanting to admit that I was ‘back here again’ as I describe it to people, but as I stood in the bathroom a couple of weeks ago, wet-wipping my jeans so that I wouldn’t get bathroom germs around the rest of the house, I knew I had to do something. It hit me that I couldn’t remember the last time I hadn’t felt like an emotional wreck, couldn’t remember the last time I felt like something wasn’t a bit broken in my brain, and couldn’t remember the last time I’d woken up feeling content.

I told myself that I’d sleep more because that would make everything better, only it turned out that the more I slept the more of a failure I felt, then the more of a failure I felt, the harder it got to get out of bed, and the more the thought of having to change out of my PJs and into ‘real clothes’ to face the ‘real world’ filled me with dread.

One day I just sent my mum a text while she was at work. I hadn’t been planning on it and felt guilty, but she told me to go to the doctor too. As much as I didn’t want to, I forced myself to do it. He’s doubled my dosage of my pills and is sending me back for CBT.

As much as I hate that I’m ‘back here again’, I need to admit it, and get on with trying to overcome this.