Okay, so, I haven’t properly written for a whole year. World’s shittest ‘blogger’ (I joke) or what hahah.
And, me being me (ever the spontaneous soul), at the grand old hour of 01:23 on a Wednesday night, I have finally had a massive surge of creativeness and I feel like I want to write my whole life down. In some ways, when I look back – I can’t believe how fast this past year has gone, but in others it feels like forever, considering I’m used to writing anything and everything down. But, to tell you the truth, I just haven’t had any motivation and I haven’t wanted to write anything half hearted or anything I wasn’t passionate about.
To be honest, I don’t even know where this is going to go either, I don’t want it to be too long but I don’t really want to miss any details. Maybe I’ll write a few posts so it’s not so heavy or intense. I suppose I’ll just start in the beginning?
If you follow me on Instagram, Facebook or Youtube, you probably know that I am now leading the glamorous life of a single parent, and have been for quite a while now. Ole and I broke up in July 2015 and since then my life has been pretty crazy! I’ve done a few blog posts since then, but nothing too deep or telling the big wide world how I’ve been feeling or what’s been happening in my life. That in itself feels totally alien because usually I’d be straight onto my laptop writing everything down because its always been a really constructive outlet for me. I’ve always seen writing as like a brain boot sale – just somewhere you go/something you do to get rid of all the junk or mess surrounding you – so you can go back home and feel like you’ve got some more space to breathe, like you’ve got your shit together and in turn, conquer the world. (Or in this mamas case, get a load of washing done, make the beds, hoover everywhere and put the dishwasher on…) I also feel like I haven’t been honest or able to be myself with you guys, on here and on YouTube, and after this is published, I can. *Mega excited
So anyway, since we broke up, life has been a strange and crazy one. Between me moving out into the big wide world with Jax and not much else in November 2015 and mid January, I was genuinely loving life. I don’t know whether it was the excitement of having my own place (after getting over the initial ‘ok, i am actually living on my own now, wtf am I going to do?’), actually having a couple of nights a week where Jax was with Ole and I had time to actually spend on ME!, the freedom I’d craved for so long or what, who knows, but I genuinely felt like things were on the up and it felt good.
Come mid-January 2016 and things just started to go downhill from there really. Ole and I weren’t getting on at all, and I started getting really anxious and unmotivated. I shrugged it off because it was something I’d never felt before so I thought I was just being silly, and ask anybody – I’m usually such a strong, busy person, so being anything less than that was just totally unknown to me. As the weeks went by, it just got worse and I was pretty much having panic attacks every time I knew I had to see Ole; whenever he picked Jax up or I dropped him off, work was becoming the biggest chore and my house was an absolute tip because I just didn’t have the motivation or energy to do anything about it.
I confided in a few close friends but I felt an overwhelming sense of embarrassment that I was feeling the way I was, I had so many people telling me “You’re just going through a tough time and everything has caught up with you”, “You’re a strong girl you’ll be fine”, “Everyone goes through shitty times you’ll be alright”, “Nothing is wrong with you, this is just the hardest thing you’ve had to deal with” and everything and anything else along those lines. All of those things may have been true, but I knew in myself I’d never felt this way before, and for once, I didn’t know how to deal with it or be in control of my situation – which I hated.
I remember popping into Waitrose one afternoon before getting Jax from somewhere and Ole and I were having a disagreement via text, and I just burst into tears in the middle of Waitrose. I think that was the point at which I thought, ‘I need to sort this, this isn’t normal and I can’t continue like this either’. The day after, (Sometime in February) I rang the doctors and booked an appointment. Being a single mama and all, I had Jax with me and I don’t think I’ve ever felt that anxious in my life whilst waiting for my name to be called. I didn’t want to have a breakdown in front of Jax, but I knew it was imminent. I’d never actually said aloud that I needed some help and even thinking about doing that was like admitting I was a massive failure, but at the same time, I knew deep down that it was going to be the turning point.
We waited ages and I almost walked out about 5 times because my anxiety was through the roof, I was shaking and sweating and I thought I was going to throw up all over the reception floor and the people around me. Finally, I was called. We got in the room and I set Jax up with the iPad to try and distract him from what was happening. As every Dr says, “Hello, I’m Dr (whatever), what can I help you with today?” She didn’t even finish that sentence and I was already crying. Trying to get those words past my lips was so so hard. I finally got out what was happening and how I was feeling after about 5-10 minutes and the doctor was just lovely. She got me some tissues, rubbed my arm, told me to take all the time I needed etc.
She concluded I was suffering from anxiety and depression. I remember when she said that, it was like being hit by another huge wave of tears and fear. Of course those 2 words had been swirling around my brain but I never wanted to admit or believe it, I was ashamed. Part of me was also so relieved because in that split second, I was no longer being over the top, I was no longer going crazy, I was no longer alone which I had felt for what seemed like forever. She decided to sign me off of work and put me forward for counselling/CBT. She also asked if I wanted some anti-depressants but I declined, I knew I wanted to try this on my own first.
I left there feeling exhausted, mentally drained, but also like a massive weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I sort of knew that from that point, surely everything was only going to get better. All I has to do was wait til there were spaces for the counselling/CBT. It didn’t actually take that long; probably a couple of weeks but it felt like forever. Mentally psyching myself up for it was so exhausting and my anxiety was still there 24/7, like a devil sitting on my shoulder pouring poison into my ears, but weirdly at the same time I was excited too because I was so fed up with feeling the way I was.
They say that the first step to recovery is to admit that you have a problem and I suppose that was what happened that day. Its a tough pill to swallow but I could see that denial was only making me worse. I had anxiety and depression. Strong, brave old me had anxiety and depression. Something I never saw happening in a million years, yet here I was – basically just a shell of who I was. The complete opposite human to who I was only a few months before.
I am happy to tell you that since July 2016 I am the happiest I’ve been in what feels like forever and I have done and achieved things that I never thought I would be able to. I’m going to wrap it up here because like I said, I didn’t want this to be too long, but my next post will be about my CBT journey and then I’ll post another about how I have been since that ended. If you’ve got this far, then thank you so so much – it honestly means the world.
I’m so glad I’ve finally been able to spill the beans and just be honest with you all. I have also recorded a vlog of my mental health journey – if you’d like to give that a watch CLICK HERE. If you have ANY questions at all, please do not hesitate to email me – firstname.lastname@example.org – because I’d love to help any way I can.
Lots and lots of love, J xxx
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