My Blog Bubble

As a teenager we lived next door to a lady with depression.   She and her husband were lovely people, they would always stop and chat, but sometimes she would retreat and we wouldn't see her for months. Instead we would only see Ernie on his daily walk. Then suddenly she would be back beside him with long hair (Gladys always had short hair). I didn't really take much notice but can remember my mum commenting about Gladys and her long hair meaning she had been depressed.   Now, looking back, I can see how they were connected. How Glady wouldn't want to leave the house and thus her hair would grow and she would look unkempt when she did reappear. I get it now. Growing up depression wasn't really something I knew much about. I know members of my family have suffered with it but it just kind of passed me by. After all we all have sad days or  short periods. Well that's what I thought. Just get on with it. Keep smiling.   However my short periods would get longer...

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...

A hard-hitter from three years ago that remained unpublished until now: I always knew what I wanted to be when I grew up - happy and successful - I was never really sure what I wanted to be though.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...

One of the things about depression is the fact that it doesn't matter how bad you are if you know someone is suffering you reach out to them. You don't want then to feel as bad as you so you want them to feel better.  You want them to know they are not alone and that you care. I do it all the time and I have realised, since writing this, that many others do the same.   It is like a radar. We reach out to help those that are afraid to ask for help themselves. Those we can see are suffering. And like moths to a flickering light we are pulled to those that need us those that have shown bravery and stood up. We draw solace from the fact we are not alone. Strength from being a crook for someone to lean on. Understanding from being someone else's shoulder to cry on, their ear to speak to. Sometimes we say nothing and other times we are the voice of reason.  We may not be able to fix ourselves but strive to fix those that bleed, like us, whenever we can.  T...

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. 

Just like you cannot fix a broken leg by telling someone to walk on it (unless you are JC Telling the lame to walk) you cannot cure a depressive by telling them to cheer up.  The following will also not help Snap out of it (oh silly us by all means) Sort yourself out (gosh why didn't we think of that) You think you're depressed well... (We don't think think we are: we are under medical supervision that proves we are) Everyone has bad days (this isn't just a bad day) You think your life is bad.... (only say this if you are going to tell us a funny anecdote about how you did something extremely embarrassing: we are still able to laugh after all) It could be worse (how do you know, we may be thinking about taking our lives) Don't be stupid (we aren't we are sad) Stop crying (we are trying to) You think this is hard on you well you should try being me (our heads are so full of stuff we feel guilty about please don't add m...

Most of us in relationships know that our arguments are circular: we argue about the same things. Also, like many, my partner Chris and I argue about money. They say money can't buy you happiness and although that may be true (I am yet to find out); I can categorically say a lack of it can put you in to a happiness debt. I work full time and so does Chris.  Eliza is at the childminders full time. Chris is self employed and I have a basic wage that doesn't come near to covering my bills.  We do not own our home and no longer have a car of our own having to sell it as we couldn't afford it. We have cut down our spending and still we struggle to make ends meet. I do Avon to give me a little spending money and Chris works weekends.   Yet still we have debt collectors knocking at the door and ringing the door bells.  And the sad thing about this is that it may be that I put finances down for part of the reason I am in my sad place but I also think it is a reas...

I always wanted to write a blog that had an affect on people, that helped someone, that did something. Well this week I have had so many conversations about my blog: people congratulating me or thanking me.  I think I have done what I set out to achieve and hope that I can continue to raise awareness and interest over the next 93 days. Thank you for sticking by me through this journey.  Today has been but a brief pitstop in my writing....

My get and go has got up and gone I am blighted by lethargy and procrastination. I have no energy to do anything. Without realising I put things off and off and off and off.  I seem to have a "later" or "tomorrow" mantra in my head. My head that is so full of stuff and nonsense and nothingness it now hurts every single day. Some people will say I am just lazy. Or that everyone feels the same way. And yes they do, at times, I feel like this most days.  Simple tasks seem insurmountable. Today is one of those days and I am feeling the world pile up around me. I don't want to get up. I don't want to go to work. I want to go back in to a world where all I have to worry about is make believe. 

My Granny used to always say we should paint on our mask. Put on our war paint and confront the day. Ok so I don't trowel on the make up but I always (well nearly always) have a smile on my face and a laugh in my chest.   Sometimes, though, it slips. My smile is lost and the laugh has flown the nest (chest as it were). It may slip for a short time or a more prolonged period however I know that one day it will be back. How I get it back I am never sure.  Maybe it will be something my little girl does that makes my heart melt, or spaghetti bolognese cooked by my boyfriend, a glass of wine with a friend, a cup of coffee, a natter with the mummies or some time with my pole sisters. Whatever wings bring my smile back they are always welcomed with open arms. Who knows how long it will stay.