Tag: mental health

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.

Life feels a little better when…

  • My cat is on my bed or my lap
  • My dog asks for a cuddle (it depends what mood she’s in.)
  • I have a cup of tea in my hand
  • I actually make the effort to put on make up
  • My boyfriend stays over
  • I’m in the middle of a really good book
  • I finally get the last answer on a crossword
  • I know there’s chocolate in the house
  • I have a warm wheatbag on my back

What are the little things that make you feel better on a bad day?

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.