The ice berg’s of mental health.

Each time I don’t know what to do. I wonder how I ever got over the last one. How will I get over this one. Depression & anxiety can hit you like a bus. You can be having the best 23 hours of the day yet the 24th hour can soon become your minds idea of hell.

I know this sounds stupid and we all fight for the preconceived ideas/stigma of mental health to be changed but I don’t know how else to explain how I can go from being this bubbly happy person to feeling nothing but numb. When this happens I don’t cry because I’m sad, I cry because I’m angry. I’m angry how my mind plays tricks on me. How although my brain belongs to me I can’t control it, I can’t change it or reset it. I don’t have power. I lack power over my own body. I feel like I’m a puppet on strings or a doll in a dolls house that’s controlled by Satan.

In times like this is hard to remember that anybody is there. It’s hard to remember that you’re not a nobody. It hard to remember your worth. You over think stupid things like a plank of wood or a tea bag. You go on social media and see what you think is someone else’s perfect life and it’s not. It’s all fake. It’s all for show because we’re scared of letting anyone even think we aren’t who we portray ourselves to be.

It’s all so quiet in your head you can hear a nonexistent clock ticking or your ears suddenly start ringing. There is no complete silence. Thinking is dangerous. To not think is to think about not thinking. It’s a vicious circle of misery.

Depression makes you want to be alone but not wanting to be lonely. It’s the fear of failure but lacking the urge to do something. It’s about remembering you’re not broken just chipped. You wake up every morning tired from the battle the day before.

Everyday is a fight or a struggle but everyday you become braver than the day before. It’s a dark tunnelled path where you’re always trying to find the light at the other end.

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Ohana.

I never really speak or have even spoke about this. I definitely struggle to express it as I know now more than ever what’s it’s like to go through the loss of a grandparent.

My dads side of my family is quite big. Definitely in comparison to my mums as there’s only 9 of us on her side. My dads family consists of him, my 5 aunties, my grandma and grandad and then my 11 first cousins, not to mention my 21 2nd cousins & 2 3rd cousins😂

My dads parents died when he was quite young. He was about 16 when my grandma died & about 22 when my grandad died. I wasn’t alive so I never got to meet them. Majority of my cousins never met them. Between my eldest cousin and I, there’s about 30 years. I’m the youngest and clearly was 30 years too late.

This blog is really dedicated to my paternal grandparents.

Having my mums parents around me my entire life, I’ve experienced all the love, joy and laughter of having grandparents. I’ve been able to stay with them during school holidays, spend time with my cousins because we were the same ages & we’ve just been able to be the bestest of friends because of our upbringing. Unfortunately I never got this with my dads parents. Obviously I probably wouldn’t have had baby sleepovers with my 30year old cousin or even my youngest cousins as they’re still 13 years older than me. We’re all different eras and so on. Don’t get me wrong, we are a somewhat close family, I see some of my cousins all the time bcos we live so close to each other & there is a strong bond there but we never got the whole ‘trip to grandparents house’ together.

Since I was little I’ve missed my grandparents. It’s taken me years to realise that actually, you can miss something you didn’t have. I’ve always felt them with me. I’ve just always felt this closeness to them but it doesn’t match to having them here.

I honestly can’t express enough to other people just how much they should appreciate their grandparents. I suppose it’s because I know what it’s like to not have 1 set and more recently, what it’s like to lose a grandparent after 20 years of them being in your life.

Each are equally heartbreaking.

It really does upset me that I didn’t get to meet them. I didn’t get that opportunity to even know them. I think i struggle more because my dad doesn’t often speak about them.

I remember asking my dad when I was little what my grandad died of. He replied, “a broken heart because he missed your grandma so much” & I remember at the time crying because all I wanted to do was to have the opportunity to some how go back in time & tell him everything would be okay and help him cope with losing his wife. Looking back now I suppose that thought was a bit daft but I was about 7 & obviously didn’t understand it. It was only later I realised he died of a heart attack that probably couldn’t have been avoided.

When my mums dad died I was heartbroken. I still am. He was my grandad. The man who gave the best hugs. Who’s whole life was dedicated to family, Ferrari’s & friends. I remember a couple days after he died, I was lay in bed over thinking like you so easily do & I thought “I wonder if grandad meets my grandma and grandad, how amazing would that be”. And honestly, I’ve had this thought since. I pray to god this is the case. I feel this is a missing puzzle to my heart. My dad had my mums dad in his life longer than he had his own & I think my grandad realised this & took him under his wings.

I hope they’re in heaven puzzling the pieces together. The lost time we’ve all had. I hope they’re looking after each other & know how much they’re missed.

I hope my grandma and grandad know that even though I’ve not had them in person I’ve always had them in my heart.

Meg x

The recovering people pleaser.

I feel I went 21 years not at all realising how much this one quote, image, saying could truly hit me in the face.

Last year I saw this very picture with this very quote & my mindset began to change. A lot happened for me to realise just how much of myself I’d sacrificed for others and now looking back I can’t believe I did it. The image was the cherry on top of the cake for me.

I still get anxiety saying no but I thank god everyday for how far I’ve come and how much my cup has been filled.

You are number 1. You can’t reach number 2 before you count yourself first❤️

The over share of hot sweats in the 22 year old.

It’s not the most pleasant thing to discuss but it’s real.

Multiple times a day I experience hot sweats.

It’s like a storm of water comes out my pores and all my skin becomes damp and wet. Its so annoying & actually highly embarrassing if people don’t know or don’t understand. To say “I’m having hot sweats” when I’m 22 can easily make others question what’s actually happening.

I feel like I know I’m not going through the menopause as Mother Nature calls every 28 days, unless this can still happen? And it’s not my medication as there’s no side effects of it, although my doctor did say this was the reason.

Some days it’s like being in a constant shower, however the water isn’t coming from the shower head it’s coming from my pores.

It’s weird because I hardly sweat from my armpits. It’s not as though I’m sweaty in that sense. I could be sat on the couch watching TV and it would happen or I wake up during the night and it happens.

It’s an overshare of strangeness🌚

When “I’m here for you” is just a bunch of words with no meaning.

I can’t be the only one where people around me just act in an obscure manner when you mention your condition.

I find that some either try their best to understand it, some who nod along yet it goes in one ear and out the other & then the people who don’t even try to understand it because it’s not beneficial to their need of you.

For the people who pretend to listen and nod along, to me, are the worst. Least the people who don’t even try are honest. Nodding & fake listening makes you feel supported & a mug all in the same 10 mins. However, I think when your condition stops you from being a beneficial part of the other persons need of you, it can quickly become just as annoying as the pretenders.

I know the people in my life who support me. The ones who acknowledge my labels & try to help me as best they can without seeing the labels before me. I’ve not changed to them. My body’s changed, which leads to me suffering some difficulties but I still have the same personality, laugh, ginger hair, blue eyes etc. Yes I may need a certain type of help & support but it’s returned in the specific way they need it back.

I get a lot of “why didn’t you say anything?” “Why didn’t you come to me?” – the truth is, I go to the people I know will genuinely support me, who won’t interrupt me, who don’t awe me, who sit with me staring at 4 walls because I’m having a flare & can’t walk properly to leave the house. These are the people I tell things to, not the people who pretend to acknowledge me so I can benefit them.

The thing is, none of us are asking for a pride of Britain award or a special recognition from the queen. We’re asking for patience, genuine help&support. We’re asking for realism. I’d rather only have one person to genuinely support me then have a bunch of people pretending they are just so I can benefit their lives.

It’s crazy how a bunch of strangers (Obvs not now) on a blog website can show you so much more love, help & support compared to people in your everyday life you thought would.

Everyday is a life lesson❤️

Ain’t it oh so funny honey.

Ain’t it funny when someone thinks they know you better than you know yourself

Ain’t it funny that for every aspect of life that comes your way, people think they know what to do better than you do, even though it’s your life & your journey

Ain’t it funny that what you chose to do and not to do has every tom dick & Harry putting their 10 pence into it

No matter what, people will comment on you and the way you live your life. No matter what, people will believe that they have the right to question or have a say on something you do

These people are deluded

You do you. It’s hard to fight peer pressure, it’s hard to fight against other people’s opinions. It all makes you question your own way of life. It makes you question every aspect you could be “doing wrong” but the truth is, the way you do stuff may not be someone else’s way but that doesn’t mean it’s wrong or you don’t have the right to do what you thinks best. It means that all these people who have the opinions have too much time on their hands. They think they can sit on their high horse & dictate to everyone. They’re weak, not you. They’re wrong, not you.

Always hold your head high because you are doing you. You are trying to be your best self & that alone is an achievement. You’re being the star you are. You’re being you.

Be kind – Be classy – Stay sassy❤️

How do you explain your pain?

How do you explain the pain you’re in. How do you explain to someone what fibromyalgia is. How to explain it in the simplest term instead of throwing the 500 page book at them for the explanation of what is it, what it does, what it makes you sacrifice & how it feels. Sometimes we can’t be arsed.

My auntie asked my mum last week what it was and what it involved. My mum explained it as a 24/7 full body migraine. So that was the pain part ticked off the list of explanations. I thought it was a good explanation to be honest but I feel a migraine can be the explanation of the pain of fibromyalgia when you’re not suffering a flare.

A migraine doesn’t also explain the chest pains you experience, the restless legs that just won’t go away, the sleep deprivation you encounter every single night. Nor does it explain how sensitive your skin is to touch, how banging your leg on the side of the table actually lasts and hurts for a lot longer than the average persons. It doesn’t explain how it takes you at least an hour to get going in the mornings, the stretches and funky shapes you have to do to try break down the stiffness of your joints and muscles. The embarrassment of not being able to speak properly, remember things or think someone and say something else because your brain is jumbled.

It’s living every single day with relying on tablets to help you. To try reduce your pain, to help the nausea, to help you sleep, to reduce your depression, to protect your stomach because the lining of your stomach is becoming thinner with the tablets you’re on. It’s living everyday relying on people to help you, without going through just 1 day where you don’t have to ask for help.

The medication were prescribed isn’t actually formed to treat fibromyalgia itself. Its treats certain symptoms but can make other symptoms worse. The tablets that contain ingredients no one tells you about, ingredients you would believe your doctor would put you on. Tables that have side effects of other symptoms you’re suffering from and taking other tablets to treat. It’s such a weird thing.

Even when other people have fibromyalgia, your journeys are so different that although you can connect, you will never truly understand each other’s journeys because no two are the same.

People can push you too much. They can say do this or do that. Try this try that. Especially your doctor, but at the end of the day you know your own body. You’re the one who can truly know what your body is experiencing and the mechanics of how it functions.

I think you can try your hardest to explain the pain you’re in but no one will every truly understand it to such a degree. You can try your hardest to explain what fibromyalgia is but again, I don’t have time to site the 500 page book. Sometimes I’d rather say I have full body pain, not mention anything else, paint a smile on my face and carry on with my day.