My Blog Bubble

Everywhere I look I am seeing posts about #100HappyDays. Or posting three #positive things a day. Even I have been sucked in and am partaking in the daily challenge of finding something that made me smile, taking a photo, and posting in to my Instagram (@LuluSLR) account. I am only on day 3 and found Day 2 a struggle. Why?  I suffer with #depression and my least favourite day of the week is a Thursday.  Anyhow I got there and posted a photo of my daughter doing her impression of Elsa from #Frozen. Doing this got me thinking about why I chose to take part. I thought it would be good for me, make me find something to smile about, even when I don't want to. However it made me think I should do the same for what makes me #sad. This is less about photos and more about words after all who wants to see my miserable face everyday!  Especially when the things that make me feel down are often in my head.  I am going to blog on what it's like to live with #depressio...

There are so many things that make me think of you. Daily. Today as I was walking to the station I realised that I am not left with a hole, with a sense of grief, sad that you died; I am left with a sense of happiness, of gladness that you lived. Is it because I have grieved well or is it because you lived magnificently and brought us up to be thankful? I am grateful that we have so many memories and stories. That I see you in so many of the things I do. Your memory lives on when I let the children know that you loved this or would have enjoyed that or even that you would have hated something. When I tell Eliza how proud you would have been of her recent school report. When we talk to Dexter about you and point you out in photos. I love that we have “your beach”. A place we can go as a family to enjoy the seaside and to remember you. I love that I can laugh with you still. Or that I say hello if I see a Robin in the garden. Or I smile at a random white feather fl...

Can we ask just one thing of you:- Please stop asking me how Mum is.  I know you mean well and you honestly do care; you want to know that she is ok: but we can't tell you that. In fact we are tired of having to repeat ourselves and remind ourselves that Mum isn't going to get better.  That this is it.  That we can't help her but can on;y make her comfortable. Maybe ask how I am, or if there is anything you can do, or just give us a hug.  Maybe just squeeze our shoulder and don't say anyhting.  If we want to talk, I promise, we will.  Sometimes, like my Blog, it is cathartic.  Other times it hurts in a way I cannot explain. The best thing to do is send a message, a text, an email, and if/when we feel like it we will respond.  Forgive us if we see you are calling and cannot take your call.  It is tiring, emotionally, to drag our way through a conversation we do not want to have. We know you care and we don't want to appear rude but...

Love doesn't end in a firework. There are no flares to light the way to the next chapter of your life. Love fizzles out. Like a bottle of champagne sitting in a fridge without a spoon. It just loses its bubbles until one day it is flat. Sometimes something shifts. One person changes. One person gives up.  The fights culminate. Sometimes it is a whisper. A Subtle change. Whatever it is the end is signalled. Does it really come as a shock. Is it inevitable. Are you the first, or the last, to see it coming? Where do those emotions go?  What happens to all that love?  That friendship?  Why doesn't it bend like normal friendships? Why does it splinter into a million painful pieces? Oftentimes it can be put down to others. Their opinions. Their interference. Their reliance. Sometimes it is the influence of outside forces. Sometimes it is just time, circumstance, situational.  What are we?

A hard-hitter from three years ago that remained unpublished until now: I always knew what I wanted to be when I grew up - happy and successful - I was never really sure what I wanted to be though. That changed often but seem to always go back to the same thing - maybe a blog for another time. Lets talk about the happy and successful: neither of which I seem to have attained as yet.  Now I am not silly I know fairy tales are just that, I don't believe in living happily ever after, I don't even believe love can last. So that part never figured hugely in my future: I was going to be the next Dr Robertson (via phd not medicine); I was going to have a successful career whereby I could fend or myself; I was going to meet the man I was to marry at 26; we were going to have two children; we were going to be happy. Simple(s). So lets look at that plan: I only managed a Masters (but I did achieve that whilst working full time); currently I am unemployed - I have ha...

In Paul's first letter to the Corinthians he spoke of love and nowadays we hear those words read at weddings. My experience of love has shown me a different way.  It isn't that I "have not love" it is just that I have no experience of the love that he speaks about. Love isn't patient it rings and rings, if there is no answer it rings again.  Love is 16 missed calls Love isn't   kind it is cruel and full of harsh words.  Spite and venom. Lo ve  does envy.  It is a green eyed monster.  It is jealous of all that it once held dear.  And yet some times it does not envy and it seems to not even care. It does boast; love is full of selfish pride. Love is arrogant, pretentious, conceited, pompous, insolent. Love is rude. Ill-tempered.  Short-fused. Love has only one way and it isn't mine Love is irritable. And worst of all, love is resentful, and full of regrets. Love does rejoice at wrongdoing, it cares little...

I am not asking you to do anything I am not nagging all the time I am just sitting writing poetry Looking for words that rhyme I want you to understand me I need to feel your love around I need you to know we are both lost And that we both can be found All I am doing is whispering quietly  Hoping that you will hear That you will finally understand  That there is nothing left to fear You lock yourself away completely You have another drink You tie yourself up in knots And all you do is think and think You do not listen when I speak At least you do not hear You are running away internally And making our future unclear. Please stop overthinking Worrying what you may lose  Look at what you have, be brave;  And us, I ask, please choose

My medication has turned my black dog to a small bundle of fluff. He is controlled, held back as it were, and lives in my stomach. I know he is there and at times I can feel him straining at the leash to get out. It scares me. I guess I could liken him to a Gremlin. Looks cute and harmless but add water and he becomes a menace and ruins everything. The medication, on the whole, keeps the water at bay.  Sometimes though I can feel that little tike getting ready for a swim and I don't know how to stop him. He gets into my thoughts and my actions. He controls my subconscious. I want to be happy but he wants to play.  I'd say I want him to drown but that would only make matters worse!  I just hope that one day he finds a new home. Maybe not with someone else but somewhere away from me

The oddest thing just happened to me. In the middle of a pole class I just put on my trackies, my hoodie and left. I am not a quitter. I never leave a film halfway through, I see things through, I read a book to the end, it doesn't mean I am enjoying it but if I sign up to it I stay with it. I wouldn't want to waste my time or money after all.  Today however I just had to leave. I had an overwhelming sense of being an outsider, or being useless, just feeling wrong. Pole isn't like that, it's all inclusive, but today it was like I was at a new studio: a complete beginner.  I put my hood up and stepped out I to the rain and cried. I just felt wrong....

The sense of failure can be on different scales. Big or small the feeling never goes away and is always there just nudging us constantly in the head. It might as well be shouting "loser" at the top of it's voice. Today I feel like I have failed as I haven't managed to find anyone to help with the ice bucket challenge, I was meant to have a pamper session but it was cancelled AND I have eaten bread despite saying I wouldn't as I desperately need to lose weight.  However it can often be on a greater scale. I can look at my life and see what I have achieved and then see what I have done with it. I have a degree and a Masters and now earn a wage that doesn't pay my bills. I don't own a home (well I am on the mortgage to my marital home but that is a battle I seem incapable of winning).  I think I will stop there as this isn't a pity rant. It's just a blog post! The feeling of failure is overwhelming sometimes. It makes me bow my head in...

Anxious the Elephant will m ean very little to most folk but asi have friends who worked for Haven Holidays I have heard of him. The reason for the title is a little tenuous....  M y thinking was this: anxiety and depression are often the elephants in the room. Completely ignored despite their presence as people are embarrassed about mental illness.  Today's topic is anxiety. I am not a stressy person or a worrier so I am not prone to panic attacks but have witnessed them first hand with my Dad.  However today I was feeling a little under the weather but continued as normal. I felt that I was not "happy" and couldn't quite place what was wrong. All of a sudden, for no reason at all, whilst in a shop my stomach somersaulted into my throat and started to strangle me from the inside.  Or at least that how it felt. For only the second time in my life I felt a need to run to fresh air, the last time was many years ago in a crowded pub a couple of weeks after I was ...

You call me selfish. You say it so often and the funny thing is it is always when I am trying to be selfless. When I say I don't mind or it's your choice. Or maybe it's when I am putting my little girl ahead of me or ahead of you. You call that selfish but I call it being a mother.  Anyhow people often state that depression is a selfish illness and that suicide is a purely selfish act. I too was one until I contemplated it after being taken down by this disease.  We aren't being selfish we are just lost. Not lost in a bubble of our own doing but a void. An empty void. We aren't putting ourselves first or moving away we are just not feeling anything.  And then past that we start to think about our family and friends and what a drain we are on them. We start to think how much better their lives would be without us. So you see, we are far from being selfish, we are trying to be the complete opposite.  Yes those that are left behind will mourn but...

An odd title I know but when I did a thesaurus check on the antonym of pleasure I got pain... Maybe the Pain of Guilt is a better title. Whichever you choose today is about that! I think part of why I am where I am is an overwhelming feeling of guilt. And guilt is a funny thing. Something you cannot shake. Something you just cannot let go of however hard you try. I know I need to forgive myself but I just cannot.  There isn't much I feel guilty about to be honest. I try to live my life without regrets. So yes I feel bad that I didn't get to see my grandmother before she died (frustratingly I was going to see her on the Saturday but she decided to pop her clogs before the weekend).  Yes I feel bad for not seeing my family and friends as much but they all (should) know that I love them and keep them in my thoughts. I feel bad that my house isn't spic and span and I am not a stay at home mum but Eliza is a fantastic child and I live to ensure she is happy.  ...

I think one of the scariest feelings that I get with my depression is that of nothingness.  Not in a nice yoga-like-meditation way but in a vast emptiness type of a way. It is an all consuming numbness. You just do not care about anything.  Not what you say to me or think of me. I am full to brimming with nothing. The darkness comes from this, the lethargy, the apathy.  Nothing matters. I think this is where the suicidal tendencies creep in. I don't care what happens next. What would happen if I drove into that tree?  Or if I took a cocktail of tablets?  I have never seen any such thing through as I have Eliza and she deserves more from me.  She is the only thing that makes me feel something and can drag me from my black hole. And for that I will be eternally grateful.  The numbness scares me most of all......

It may come as a surprise but being depressed isn't all about feeling sad. Oftentimes I am overwhelmed with a mixture of feelings and emotions. Other times I feel nothing.  This week I want to blog about the main things I feel. Whether that be throughout a day (I seem to regularly board the emotional roller coaster) or just in general.  Yes sad and down are there but they are not the be all and end all.  Stay tuned....

I wanted to write about why I am continuing my blog. Yes it is hard and I am writing more blogs than I am publishing. Maybe because I am worried about how they will be accepted or viewed. About the comments I may receive for my complete honesty.  Anyhow the reason I continue is for the fantastic comments I have received along the way. The little messages to tell me that people I know suffer or have suffered with this illness.  And that what I am doing is helping people (including those living with sufferers of this mental illness).   I wanted to share with you some of the comments that keep me posting....  (I hope the authors don't mind; no names mentioned: "I have just read your blog for first time. I think you are so brave and I am truly inspired by your inner strength and honesty at how you deal with the blackness of depression. I struggle most days too. It's like treading water..... You have really helped me today though - thank you xxx" "I j...

And by vet I obviously mean human vet (doctor).. So regular readers know I made an appointment to see my doctor ten days after actually needing to see her.  Well one of my friends fought my corner and got me seen the next day (thanks missy). When I first started on this medication I thought it would be a short term thing and then I would be fixed and back on track.  So going to the doctor to explain I was having more bad days than good was not in my plans. The result of my trip was that  the doctor recommended I got a job I actually liked and she doubled my medication.  She is right but it's easier said than done on the work front.  Double meds for the foreseeable it is then!

The dreaded loom bands. What have they got to do with depression you ask? Not a lot really. Or do they? We often need to be doing something to take our minds off of what has been filling our heads. These are a great opportunity to get a bit creative without having to leave the house (you can even order them online). They are also a great family activity. Everyone can have a go and it is an activity that keeps kids quiet and amused for a good length of time. Offering you some much needed peace and quiet! I also found it quite therapeutic. The repetitive action but the ability to make something pretty. The fact that it gets you involved so easily. The whole family were soon YouTubing videos on what we could do next.  It isn't expensive and it isn't messy. Yes those darn little things get everywhere but it's not paint or play dough or moon sand! Lastly I made a rainbow band for my daughter for a special reason. We lost our beloved dog last year and we o...

Doctor Doctor I need to see you: We can fit you in ten days from now... How is this a helpful response to anyone with an illness including a mental illness? I usually am happy to see whichever doctor can see me however my depression is being managed by a specific doctor.  My medication is ok repeat and I haven't been back for six months.  The other day when I felt bad and thought I was on a slippery slope I went to the surgery to book an appointment and explained what it was for. Sadly I have to wait over a week.  Well let's hope I'm not suicidal by then hey?! Can I just say I am not berating the GPs or the NHS. I fully support our system and know how busy people are. I am j ust venting I guess. Our medical system is amazing but heavily underfunded. Nuff said. 

It has been pointed out to me on several occasions that I have set myself a rather large challenge. Some might say insurmountable. #100SadDays; 100 blogs. I think it is do-able. Especially if I break it down and don't put pressure on myself to have to write every single day. One way to look at it is two entries a week. Yes I may struggle for content but this is about my journey. A journey that is constantly changing.  Dealing with depression is all about learning to break things in to bite-sized chunks that you can deal with. Some days you may not be able to deal with much and the only task you complete is to get out of bed. Other days you could be busy and completing task after task.  If nothing else please take from today's blog that it is best to break tasks up in to smaller more deal-able things and then to take comfort in every thing that you do achieve. The other bits can wait.  You can do it. I believe in you.