I Am Depressed

This isn’t going to be a particularly cheerful blog post, I will be talking about mental illness. If you’re feeling vulnerable, please read with caution.

I am depressed. By that, I don’t mean being a little bit sad, I mean full blown life altering depression, resulting in me being in hospital. People are using the term “breakdown” and to be fair, that’s quite an accurate description. I don’t feel ashamed about the fact that I am depressed.

Depression is ugly At times, it has felt like there’s been no way out. There aren’t any clear cut answers and it’s been more than a little bit chaotic. It is so much more than just being sad. It’s a feeling of endless hopelessness, combined with a fear that in unexplainable. It’s nothingness. It’s not knowing how to and not wanting to carry on.

Having said all of that, I consider myself as pretty lucky. When things started going wrong, my GP very quickly referred me back to mental health services, someone from the team rang me that same afternoon and the following Monday I had an assessment with the mental health team. I wasn’t expecting much, my previous experiences with the mental health team haven’t been positive, I’ve always been “functioning” meaning that despite any mental health battles, I’ve held down a job and coped (for the most part) without any intervention being needed.

This time, things were different. I was so depressed during the assessment, I could hardly speak. I couldn’t cry because I was too depressed to cry. Within ten minutes, a decision had been made that I needed to be referred to the day patient service at the local psychiatric hospital. I was shocked, scared but ultimately, numb, to this news because I honestly felt in a place whereby I was beyond help. I wanted to die. It’s a hard thing to admit, but I’m not going to shy away from it. By the end of the week, I had been assessed by the day service and then started the following week.

I’m now nearing the end of my two weeks as a day patient and will be transferring to a step-down service, run by the mental health team and Mind. Honestly? I am terrified. The walls of the hospital have been my safety and security. I’ve been under constant supervision and I’m scared about how I’m going to cope without that. But I’ll never know unless I try. I have got to try, for myself but also for the people who have had my back over the past few weeks and supported me when I have felt unsupportable. I’ll still have support from staff, albeit less intensively – I’m not expected to go out into the world alone just yet, thankfully. I could fall, I could fly, but I will not fail, whatever happens.

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There has been progress. Despite being physically unwell over the past few days (yay gastroparesis), mentally I’ve been okay. Last weekend I was counting the hours until I was back in hospital, I resorted to behaviours that I haven’t engaged in for years, and I mean years and the thought of getting to Monday morning and being back in hospital felt impossible. This weekend hasn’t been completely struggle-free but I’ve managed. I’ve used the advice and things that I had learnt in psycho-education sessions to keep myself safe.

Why am I writing all of this? Because I’m angry. I’m so bloody angry. I’ve struggled with mental illness for years and years, so maybe this was inevitable. But maybe not. The biggest trigger to this breakdown, or whatever you want to call it, has been my physical health. In the past 18 months, my life has changed drastically. I’ve gone from holding down a full-time job, saving to buy my own home and being a fairly independent adult to being on longterm sick leave, frequenting hospital more than I frequent pubs, with no real hope of moving out, being heavily reliant on my mum. Don’t get me wrong, I was still ill when I was working, but the diagnosis of gastroparesis and then Addison’s Disease has turned my life upside down. And I have had no support in dealing with that. There is a huge correlation between mental and physical health: you have a cold for a few days and mentally you feel like shit. Now imagine feeling shit, but more, every single day. With no escape.

Chronic illness, or any form, is life changing. But you don’t get the support in dealing with that. You’re expected to cope. Expected to just get on with it. That is not okay. I know of too many people from the chronic illness community who are now in hospital because of their physical health. I’m angry because I’ve been failed and I’m angry because so many other people are also being failed.

So yes, I’m feeling mentally stronger having been a day patient, but none of the underlying issues have been addressed. The trauma of my life changing so much in such a short space of time has not been addressed. No one has acknowledged the trauma of having to fight with medical professionals just to be believed. The medical traumas that I am unable to even begin to speak about are still being brushed aside.

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We have got to connect the dots between mental and physical health. One cannot exist without the other. I don’t know how to make the changes that need to happen. But I do know that this has got to be talked about more, to prevent more people from being failed.

2018 Favourites

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Well, we’ve made it to the end of 2018: a year which has caused the British population to overdose on Brexit, we had the Beast from the East and the hottest summer in forever. Baby Shark made us want to spoon our eyeballs out and the I’m A Celeb Class of 2018 gave us the ultimate body confidence song, I Like My Bum.

I’ve really enjoyed writing about my monthly favourites, throughout the year, so it only seemed right to reflect on the whole of 2018 and the things that I’ve loved.

Books

My stand-out book of the year has to be I Am Thunder: And I Won’t Keep Quiet by Muhammad Khan. Put simply: this book was amazing, literally the only fault that I could find with it is that it finished too soon. Despite this book again coming under the YA category of fiction, I honestly feel that everyone needs to read it. Muhammad Khan is a teacher in a British secondary school. He is also Muslim and writes about growing up as a British Muslim in the 21st century, having been inspired by media reports of the three Muslim girls who fled east London to join the so-called Islamic State. Since first reading this book in May, I have gone on to re-read it numerous times, each time picking up different aspects of the plot that I hadn’t noticed when reading before. I’m really pleased that Khan is releasing his second book in early 2019.

Another book which I have to mention is We Are Young, the latest book by YA author, Cat Clarke. Having only discovered Cat Clarke this year, I very quickly made my way through all of her books and it is a close call between We Are Young and Girlhood over my favourite Cat Clarke book. We Are Young was emotional, raw, powerful…I could continue. What I loved most was that Cat writes about mental health in such a sensitive yet balanced manner. She doesn’t sugar-coat how difficult being a teenager can be and We Are Young also touches on the government cuts to mental health services and youth services and how this impacts on the most vulnerable in society. I can’t wait until Cat’s next book is out. No pressure Cat!

A book that hasn’t featured in any of my previous monthly favourites posts is Vox by Christina Dalcher. This book was extraordinary, so much so that I read it in one sitting. It’s very unlike any books that I normally read, but I was drawn to it because of the linguistic and neurolinguistic element in it. In dystopian USA, women and girls are limited to speaking only one hundred words a day. This is measured by a word counter which is fitted to their wrists, speaking over one hundred words means that the bracelet emits an electric shock, which then intensifies. Think 1984, with a neurolinguistic twist, I really loved it.

Films/TV

Like most of the British population, I was obsessed with Love Island and still feel that there is a hole in my life, come 9pm, as it’s not on TV to watch. Despite this, however, I will fully admit that Love Island is not a healthy representation on society and it highlights many issues, with how women are viewed and treated. I wrote a blog post about The Problems With Love Island, where I talked about being a feminist and if watching Love Island makes me a bad feminist. I don’t necessarily agree with the behaviours shown by some of the people in the villa, but Love Island was a winner for some summer evening TV viewing and I will be remaining loyal, babe to it.

Obviously I can’t write about my yearly favourites without mentioning Strictly Come Dancing. As always, I have loved loved loved this series, especially with the added controversy and drama. Stacey and Kevin were well deserved winners, having had the SCD journey, with Stacey going from complete novice to a talented dancer.

My stand-out TV programme of the year has to the The Bodyguard. Being a huge fan of Line of Duty, also written by Jed Mercurio, I had high expectations of this series and I was not disappointed. It. Was. So. Good. Although not to be watched in the middle of the night when you’re home alone. The twist in the final episode was outstanding…is Julia alive or not?! Roll on series two.

As for films, the ones I’ve loved the most are Ladybird, Mamma Mia: Here We Go Again and Wonder. 2019 is looking good in terms of film releases and I’m especially looking forward to Toy Story 4 and Lion King.

Spoonie Favourites

The Body Shop has to have a mention here, as their skin care has (mostly) kept my skin in reasonable condition, when I haven’t felt eel enough to properly look after it. A lot of the time, I don’t have the energy to spend ages and ages doing my makeup or having a long beauty regime, but at the same time, I don’t want to get into a downward spiral of not making any effort. Products which deserve a mention are: Tea Tree Anti-Imperfection Night Mask is specifically formulated to care for blemishes and imperfections whilst you sleep and the hydrating face mists which saved my skin from heat induced sweats over the summer.

Another spoonie favourite from this is Tesco jeans. Okay, stay with me on this one. I have really short legs – being just over 5ft is a bit of a curse in that sense – so I find buying jeans a very painful process. Once I find a brand that I like, that’s it, I’m on a convert and buy all the jeans in different colours (I say different colours and I mean dark blue and black). They are so comfy, they fit perfectly, with a slight stretch which is perfect for when my hips and knees swell up, or when I’m bloated. Plus, they are so much cheaper than my usual Jack Wills/Oasis/Top Shop jeans and they wash well as well, which is always a bonus. I’ve lived in Tesco jeans, since discovering them earlier in the year and I’m so impressed by the longevity of them. They’ve faded slightly but for the most part, they still look as good as when I first bought them.

This year, I invested in a memory foam pillow. Where has this been all of my life? Thanks to EDS, I have endless issues with my back, neck and ribs and need a pillow which offers support and it fairly firm, to support my wonky bits. It hasn’t completely resolved the issues, but being able to sleep with my neck and shoulders getting more support has made a difference.

Since I was a teenager, I have struggled to varying degrees with stretch marks. Oh I know, the glamour, but I’m nothing if not honest. Skin issues go hand in hand with EDS, so I’m always going to be more prone to the little buggers and I know that so many people also have stretch marks. But that doesn’t change how they make me feel and how much they knock my confidence. After using a combination of bio oil and Palmer’s Cocoa  Butter and not noticing any difference, I did some research and came across Udderly Gorgeous Stretch Mark Oil by Cowshed. Whilst it was developed with pregnancy in mind, it has also had a good write up in improving stretch marks in general. It smells so much better than bio-oil, is less greasy and is absorbed more quickly. It hasn’t got rid of my stretch marks (that would be asking for a miracle) but they have improved: they aren’t as red or deep.

 

Odds and Sods

My first Odds and Sods yearly favourite overlaps with Spoonie Favourites. Last year, I stumbled across Spoonie_Village on Instagram. Run by the lovely Hayley, there is also an etsy shop, where you can buy all sorts of spoonie related items such as postcards, stickers, notebooks and calendars. I honestly can’t praise Hayley enough, her illustrations have made me smile during some really dark times this year and I can’t wait to see what 2019 brings.

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Over the summer, I was well enough to travel up to York, where I spent the best three years at uni, to catch up with old friends an lecturers. York itself is a beautiful city, with individual and unique shops that I could happily spend way too much money in. I’m able to look back on my week in York and remind myself that 2018 hasn’t been all bad, and I’m very lucky to have such supportive friends, dragging me through the tough bits.

My final favourite is the general blogging community over on Facebook and Instgram. Through this community, I have met so many like-minded people, learnt how to develop my blog and writing for an audience and had the space to talk about content and what people want to read about. Big thanks to the people who give up their time to facilitate the groups which allow this to happen, especially Amy, Pippa and Jenna.

 

 

 

 

The death of my dad: twenty five years on

This week marks twenty five years since the death of my dad. It’s a bit of an odd time of year, if I’m honest, because my dad died two days before my first birthday so going from two extreme moods in such a short space of time always messes with my head a bit.

Something I’m asked quite often is if i miss my dad. It’s a hard question to answer because it’s difficult to miss something or someone you don’t know. I don’t have any memories of my dad, although we is talked about openly by family and friends. At times, I miss the idea of having a dad and I miss the idea of having a more conventional childhood. But realistically, the conventional childhood of two parents and 2.4 children is becoming less common and “normal”.

As a child, I can remember times when I was embarrassed by the fact that my dad wasn’t alive. That might sound odd, I think it was linked to not wanting people to feel sorry for me. When I was in year three, my class teacher asked me, in front of the whole class, why my mum had only put down for one ticket for an event at school. I didn’t have the confidence to say in front of everyone that it wasn’t a mistake, it was just my mum and I and, actually, my dad was dead. That was my normal, but so very abnormal to other people.

By the time I reached my teenage years, I became more comfortable in telling people that my dad was dead. I met other people who had experienced bereavement and I didn’t feel as isolated. As my understanding grew, so did my outspokenness. One of my biggest frustrations is being lumped under the single parent umbrella. My mum did not choose to raise mess a single parent: when you have a child with a person that you love, you don’t envisage that it will result in raising the child alone, be that as a result of divorce or separation or death of a parent. I am from a single parent family, as are many of my friends, for various reasons. I defied the statistics and wasn’t suspended from school (the opposite, I went through school without ever getting a detention), I completed my a-levels, I didn’t and still don’t have a criminal record and I was not a teen parent. I valued my education.

When you lose a parent, it’s the big milestones that can really test me. The big birthdays, the achievements, the weddings and the thought of potentially having children, in future, and them not knowing their grandfather. However, as time goes on, I’m able to see them as a chance to remember and celebrate their part in my life rather than simply suffering through these events all the time. I’ve also learnt that not everyone will get it. Please, don’t bitch about your parents in front of me, unless you have extenuating circumstances. I’ll never forgot, at the age of ten, one of my peers told me that I was lucky that my dad was dead, because it meant that it was one less parent I’d have to convince if I wanted something. Sure, I’m really lucky. Get some perspective on how truly fleeting life is. This is a club that I never wanted to join and yet I can’t revoke my membership.

Having lost my dad at such a young age, I get very anxious at the thought of losing my mum. Obviously I’m not stupid, no one is going to life forever but the thought of her dying makes me want to physically throw up. For my whole life, it’s been my mum and I, battling against the odds and ridings and ups and downs and the thought of facing life alone or without her really scares me. When I was a child, I used to panic beyond belief whenever my mum was ill, even if it was just a cold. It puts me in a situation completely out of my control and I hate that.

Life does go on, but there will be times even all these years later, I will still break down like it happened yesterday. When those moments happen, I’m not sure why I’m breaking down, because I don’t know any different. This is my reality.

 

 

October Favourites

Ah it’s now officially autumn, my favourite season! This month has been pretty busy, by my spoonie standards, but I’ve still found plenty of time to curl up on the sofa, with my duvet and the fire burning, being a proper little hermit.

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Keep reading to find out what I’ve been loving this month.

Books

Only one book recommendation this month, as I’ve been slacking a bit with reading. I also haven’t had as much spare income, so I’m having a bit of a break from buying books. Sob. I went back to my childhood by reading My Mum, Tracy Beaker by the one and only Jacqueline Wilson.  As a child, I loved Jacqueline Wilson books, although unfortunately, as an adult, I loved this book a little less. I enjoyed the idea of Tracy Beaker returning, with a child, but Tracy is yet to grow up and behave like you would expect an adult to behave. I can’t comment on other books by Wilson as it’s been so long since I have read them, but it took a long time to fully get into the plot. That said, there are strong messages around happiness, money and family values and I love that the book explores relationships outside of the traditional hetro-sexual ones normally seen in children’s books.

Film/TV

The arrival of autumn means that all the good TV series are back and this year has not disappointed. Strictly Come Dancing continues to sparkle on Saturday evenings, with the added controversy of Seann and Katya and That Kiss.

Outside of the world of glitter and sequins, October saw the start of series 14 of The Apprentice. I’ve only been a hardcore fan of The Apprentice for the past few years and always worry that the series will burn out and become repetitive but thus far, this series seems to be pretty strong, with the usual mix of good business ideas and crazy levels of arrogance.

The BBC is excelling itself in new dramas at the moment, including Killing Eve and The Informer. Killing Eve has been a real wow of a series, with a strong female cast, seeing Jodie Comer take on the role of a sociopathic serial assassin, being hunted and investigated by Sandra Oh. In a series full of twists, these two fierce women, both equally obsessed with each other, go head to head in an epic game of cat and mouse, toppling the typical spy-action thriller, which we are used to seeing on our screens.

Spoonie Favourites

Over the past few months, I have been struggling more and more with pain. I am reluctant to increase any of my opiate medication anymore than I already have done, which has led to me exploring other pain relief options. So, today I had my second acupuncture session, to see if this can help with some of the pain and/or symptoms of gastroparesis. I’m yet to feel any benefits from it and if I’m honest, the sessions have left me feeling a little odd, thanks to a combination of losing sensation in my hands and feeling very spaced out, which I’m told is normal and should lessen as the sessions continue. But I am finding the overall experience relaxing which I guess is half the idea.

It’s no secret that I love pyjamas, I probably have more pyjamas than I do real clothes and I am totally okay with that. One of the best things about the change in season is new pyjamas and I am loving the pyjamas in White Stuff. They are so soft and cosy the the Midnight Bloom bottoms are my new favourite pyjamas.

Odds and Sods

At the very beginning of the month, I stayed with a close friend, who lives in London and went to the theatre to see Everybody’s Talking About Jamie, It was outstanding and possibly one of the best shows I’ve ever seen on stage. Based on the BBC3 documentary, Everybody’s Talking About Jamie follows teenagers Jamie New achieve his dream of becoming a drag queen and going to his school prom dressed as a drag queen. With themes such as prejudice, bullying, family relationships, race and culture, this musical could not be any more relevant for a 21st century audience. It is funny, raw, a little bit fabulous and very sassy. I walked out at the end wanting to see it all over again.

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August Favourites

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Welcome to another monthly favourites post, looking at all the things I’ve been loving in August! This month seems to have flown by and it’s mad to think that we are nearly in September. Bring on the cosy evenings in front of the fire, fluffy jumpers and Ugg boots. People who know me will know that I’m not a huge fan of summer and much prefer freezing cold winter days…I can’t wait.

Due to being pretty unwell over the past four or five weeks, this post is probably going to be a bit shorter than my usual monthly favourites posts, simply because in between a lot of sleeping and a lot of time being spent in hospital, I haven’t really done a lot to warrant favourites. But anyway, here we go…

Books

Last month, I talked about Holly Bourne’s first adult fiction book, How Do You Like Me Now? which has recently released and that I had fairly low expectations, as her last young adult fiction book which had been released prior to that, wasn’t that great and felt rushed. After reading her latest release, back under the YA fiction umbrella, I can confirm that Holly Bourne is back. Are We All Lemmings and Snowflakes is possibly Holly’s best book, with a strong and unique plot line. As per her other books, Holly has focused on mental health, normalising it and reducing the stigma. The book follows Olive, a teenage girl living on the edge of a mental health crisis, who is given the opportunity to attend a summer camp for teens struggling with mental illnesses. Through her own experiences, Olive begins to put together a plan to not only solve her own mental illness, but the mental illnesses of everyone in the world. It is raw, compassionate and explores mental health in a sensitive but informative way.

Another book that I have enjoyed this month is Don’t Stop Thinking About Tomorrow by Siobhan Curham. This is another book which has been beautifully written, looking at issues surrounding young carers and children and young people with refugee status in the UK. Stevie lives with her mum, on the poverty line, after her mum’s benefits are stopped. Hafiz is a Syrian refugee. Both are big dreamers and as their friendship develops, they begin to understand their similarities as well as their differences. Having experienced the benefits system, parts of this book really resonated with me: Siobhan highlights how powerless you end up feeling, when you are treated as nothing more than a statistical figure as opposed to a person.

Films/TV

Over the past few months, I have been watching Ackley Bridge and have ended up getting kind of hooked to it. When Waterloo Road was being shown on television, I was obsessed with it and now have the box set on DVD, which keeps me sane when insomnia strikes. Ackley Bridge is similar to Waterloo Road, in that it focuses on the lives of various students and members of staff at Ackley Bridge College. It’s probably not going to win any awards but it’s worth watching if you need something that doesn’t require much concentration. Series one and two are available to watch online now.

This month I did something very rare for me and went to the cinema to see Mamma Mia: Here We Go Again. My mum and I both love Mamma Mia, it is our go to film on rainy days, so it was only right that we went to the cinema to see the second film. I was a bit skeptical about it and wasn’t sure if it would live up to the hype and expectations but I loved it. It really is a proper feel good film (ignoring the gut wrenching scenes towards the end) and Lily James is beautiful.

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I am so excited that the line up to Strictly Come Dancing has been announced. Reminder to all my friends: don’t expect me to socialise on Saturday evenings once it starts!

The Great British Bake Off is also back soon. After just about getting over the move from the BBC to channel four, I am able to admit that actually, the new line up works well. I’m still loyal to Mary Berry but as the presenters and judges have gelled, it doesn’t feel as cringe to watch and for the most part, they are funny.

Spoonie Favourites

Let’s talk about pyjamas. I spent a lot of time in my pyjamas and if I got my own way, I would spent a lot more time in pyjamas. Because of this, I take pyjama buying very seriously. The majority of my pyjamas used to be M&S but recently, I’ve been disappointed in the quality of them, especially as they shrink in the wash and end up as angle swingers. That’s saying something considering how short my legs are. Having tried various other brands including Matalan, Tesco and Fat Face, I ended up buying a couple of pairs from Sainsbury’s and I can’t fault them. They are super soft, cosy and don’t shrink in the wash. They’re also fairly cheap, so any excuse to buy more!

Odds and Sods 

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Having gastroparesis means that food is something that I have come to dread, rather than enjoy, so finding foods that I’m able to eat without being sick and actually taste nice is fairly unheard of. I came across the brand Pudology, who make gluten and dairy free desserts, which is perfect for the diet that I have to follow. They taste so good and so far, I seem to have been able to eat them without any vomiting, which is great news!

What have your favourites been this month? I love finding out what other people have been loving and would recommend.

I’m Not Inspirational: Addison’s Diagnosis

I recently wrote a blog post which was a bit of a health update and talked about my diagnosis of Addison’s Disease. Much like my other health conditions, Addison’s Disease is classed as a rare disease: approximately 8,400 people in the UK have Addison’s disease. Addison’s is also known as as primary adrenal insufficiency or hypoadrenalism, affecting the adrenal glands, which sit just above the kidneys. The adrenal glands produce two hormones: cortisol and aldosterone. When people have Addison’s, their adrenal glands are damaged, resulting in not enough cortisol and aldosterone are produced.

Being diagnosed with Addison’s has come as a huge shock and I don’t think that the seriousness of the illness has sunk in. I have been ill for years, but this scary ill, as I probably said in a previous post. The early symptoms of Addison’s a lack of energy, muscle weakness and loss of appetite, all things that I experienced anyway and were my normal. It will be interesting to see if the medication that I’m now on will make a difference.

With treatment, symptoms of Addison’s disease can largely be controlled. It is treated with medication to replace the missing hormones: I will be on medication for the rest of my life. However, people with Addison’s disease must be constantly aware of the risk of a sudden worsening of symptoms, called an adrenal crisis. This can happen when the levels of cortisol in your body fall significantly. It was really unfortunate that I experienced my first adrenal crisis on the same day as diagnosis. I have a lot of gaps in my memory with regards to my first adrenal crisis, which is probably for the best in some ways.

I am really lucky to have a medical team who are on the ball, I have received a phone call every day from someone in the endo team to check in with me and make sure that I’m coping okay. My friends have also been fantastic, I really cannot thank you enough. It means the world to me when people make the effort to read up about conditions that I’m diagnosed with to try and get a better understanding of what I’m going through. In fact, I’ve cried a few times from sheer gratitude.

But this brings me on to something that I just need to vent and put out there. I am not inspirational. None of this is a choice and I can’t wallow my symptoms away. I’m fairly open and honest about life, health and everything else but there are some things that I don’t share. I don’t always share the worst bits because it’s not appropriate, I’m not well enough and I want to keep a bit of dignity. I might joke about things, but that doesn’t mean that I’m okay or coping well with what it going on.

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I find it so hard when people tell me that I’m inspirational because honestly, what choice do I have? I’m not writing to inspire anyone, or to be inspiring myself. I write because otherwise all these thoughts would be stuck in my brain and I would drive myself insane. I write because it gives me the freedom that physically, my body doesn’t give me. People often assume that people who are ill or disable are wondrous people, to be held with such high accolade. This is where I’m going to disappoint: I am just like you. I have good days and I have bad days. I watch shit TV, I can be grouchy and I can be off the wall happy. I can also be bloody boring at times but again, that’s the stuff that I don’t share because no one, I repeat, no one, cares if I plucked my eyebrows or tried a different shampoo.

Life can be really difficult. I have had to overcome things that other people my age perhaps would not have faced. But that doesn’t make me ashamed of my body and it’s wonkiness. Frustrated maybe, but not ashamed. Because this is my body and only am I allowed to pass judgment on it. I’ve had over 25 years living in my body and I’d like many more years. At times, I hate it. At times, I love it. Other times, I tolerate it as my home. It doesn’t always do what I would like it to do and that can make things challenging and it can lead me to question whether or not I can keep up the endless fight.  My normal is not the same as your normal. Your normal is not the same as anyone else’s normal. I’m not inspiring for being normal.

2018, you’re still being a bitch

At the beginning of the year, I wrote a blog post saying that 2018 was proving to be a bit of a bitch. At that point, I was suffering with extreme vomiting and was, in general, really unwell, but I didn’t really know what was wrong, although I has my suspicions which later proved to be correct.

We are now in August and closer to the end of the year than we are to the beginning and honestly, 2018 has been hell. A steamy shitty pile of hell. Don’t get me wrong, there have been good points, such as being able to go up to York but for the most part, I have been incredibly unwell and have spent the majority of the year in bed or on the sofa. If I’m being honest, I don’t feel like I’ve achieved much, but then the kinder part of me kicks in and I remind myself that for a start, I’m still alive, which right now amazes me. I might not be able to work but I have re-established my blog and been nominated for two awards in the process. I’m slowly getting my name out there and doing freelance writing when I’m well enough and after being nagged by people for ages, I am semi-planning to write a book. More on that, another time.

So, what’s been happening?

After I returned from York, my health rapidly declined. Initially, I went into unexplained urine retention, my bladder was drained at my GP surgery and I went on my merry way thinking that was that. Less than 24 hours later, I went into urine retention again and ended up being fitted with a catheter for just under a week. I was lucky, in the respect that I could still feel when I needed to pee, so instead of having a bag, I was fitted with a flip flow valve. Think turning of a tap and then peeing. Everything was fine, until my urine starting by-passing the catheter and I was able to pee normally with the catheter still fitted. That’s not normal. I’m also using the term “fine” very loosely: having a catheter fitting messed with my head so much that I reached the point whereby I was watching YouTube videos on how to remove a catheter at home.

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It wasn’t a case of worrying what other people thought of me, it was how it made me feel. My body does a lot of things which makes me feel like I’m losing control but this took things to a new extreme. I was really self conscious and was convinced that I constantly smelt of urine, so by the time I saw my catheter nurse, I was begging to have it removed, even if it was against medical advice. Thankfully she was in agreement and fingers crossed, my bladder has behaved since then.

A few days after the catheter drama ended, I found out that the probable reason behind the retention was a kidney infection, the first of three in as many weeks.

I ended up in out of hours hospital due to a gastroparesis flare, which triggered cyclical vomiting, so that I could have an injection of intra-musclular anti sickness. This episode finally convinced my GP and nurses at my GP surgery that I should be trained to inject the anti-sickness myself. Turns out, injecting myself is very different to injecting a grapefruit.

Just over a month ago, I had an appointment with Dr Hakim, in London, who recommended, amongst various other things, that I should have a blood test to check my cortisol levels. I had said blood tests and the results came back, causing a bit of drama. Normal cortisol levels at 9am, when I had the blood tests, should be over 400. Mine were 87. Since finding this out, just over a week ago, my health has worsened again. I’ve been sleeping 18+ hours a day, been very weak with awful muscle pain, dizzy, confused and generally not okay. These symptoms aren’t unusual for me, but the extreme nature of them over the past week has been scary and I have a lot of gaps in my memory because I’ve been too ill to process what has been happening.

Yesterday I had an appointment at the endocrinology department at one of the Oxford. They ran more tests and said that they are 99% sure that I had Addison’s Disease . Even when I was having the final test (awful experience, having an injection which makes you want to vomit) I was in slight denial. It was only when my wonderful endo nurse sat down with me, with paperwork that I had to sign, which was passed onto the ambulance service, to say that if they received a call about me, it had to be treated as high risk, that I started to actually realise how serious was.

I don’t think anyone was expecting that just a few hours later, my mum would be calling 999, because I was experiencing my first adrenal crisis. Again, I have a lot of memory gaps because I was too ill to process what was going on. I know that I was being very sick and the anti-sickness injection that I administered did absolutely nothing to stop the sickness. I know that I walked out of the house vomiting, which would have been a lovely sight for any nosy neighbours on a Friday afternoon and I know that I made my grand entrance to A&E by vomiting everywhere. Whatever anti-sickness they gave me was like liquid gold and instantly stopped the vomming but a good few hours passed before I was fully aware of my surroundings and what was happening.

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Yesterday was a terrifying experience and I know that managing gastroparesis and Addison’s is going to be a challenge, but I have a good care plan in place and a lot of medical support to make sure this is controlled as much as possible.

I don’t think I’ve fully processed everything from the past few weeks, I suspect it will take some time and it will be something that I’ll be dealing with in therapy for the foreseeable future but that’s okay. Right now, I’m just hoping for a stable few weeks because I’m physically and emotionally drained, as is my mum.

All that remains for me to say is a huge thank you to everyone who continues to support me on this crazy journey people call life. It’s bloody tough!