I always seems to find a way to scrutinise myself in the mirror, windows, car doors etc of how I look. Eight look at those thighs or those grosse enlarged pores on my face alongside the spots that have emerged.
The weather has been hot so it’s been shorts and dresses, I’m careful choosing what I wear nothing to short, this can end up me changing times several times before I feel good enough to be seen out in public. I don’t think I’m going to be perfect in a sense of my body. What ever perfect is because I’m not sure what that really is anymore. Too thin your shamed too curvy your body shamed, there’s no in between.
Many of the reasons many people turn to eating disorders and suffer from body dysmorphia because we feel we are too ugly, too imperfect. Everyone has body hang ups but this goes way beyond that, it interferes with your life. It’s soul destroying. If I was allowed I would be seeing a dr tomorrow to have the fat sucked from my monstrous thighs, my husband has a different opinion but I wished I felt the same. I would love to be body confident.
I work out 3/4 times a week, a walk 3/4 mikes every single day pushing a double pushchair, I ride Zeus 4 times a week, I then have my house chores and the children on top, I’m far from sedentary and more often I forget to eat lunch because I’m busy doing other things. I like to be busy to keep my mind occupied, being still is not healthy for me at all.
I don’t give myself as much as a hard time as I use too. Therapy helped with that, I still have days where I look in the mirror and I feel disgusting at what I see. Im my own bully.
So the kids have broken up for the summer break, 6 weeks whole weeks…..
My life has been a little hectic and I’ve found myself slipping into the darkness somewhat. Our lovely nanny resigned due to ill health and it made me realise how much we needed her in regards to childcare. Spending the last 6 weeks with the boys and not being able to work as left me somewhat distant and my patience has wore thin. My routine changed overnight and without structure I don’t function as well. I needed my routine.
My middle child is highly demanding and having special needs makes it a whole more complicated and very hard work. It can wear you down, emotionally, mentally and physically. You have both him and my youngest together and it’s world war 3. It’s chaos and they seem to be at war most of the time. My 11 year old likes his Xbox and moans if I ask him to come off after an hour and will sit there like with face like a smacked arse.
I was dreading waking up in the morning, dreading the day. Sleepless nights make it worse. With being unable to relax and get comfortable and with the warm weather it’s made this worse.
I felt shit Saturday just gone. I didn’t want to go to a family bbq so stayed home alone guzzling a large bottle of wine and took more than I should of done of my medication on the hope to knock me out, I got the desired effect sleeping like a baby and woke up Sunday feeling a little better. Being a mother is not easy it has its rewards don’t get me wrong and I’m very lucky to have 3 beautiful boys as I’m well aware there are people out there who would give anything to be parents. We needed help conceiving our 2nd child so I know how this feels.
I’ve also had a touch of writers block…I enjoy blogging about mental health. I’m grateful for the many followers I have, I don’t have social media so it’s not shared.
At the darkest point of my depression my sense where somewhat different I felt.
Sight: I couldn’t see past my anxiety, what I saw in the mirror filled me with disgust. I looked weak, pathetic. My skin lacked colour, I was pale and I had bags under my hollow eyes. I couldn’t see for the future.
Touch: I felt numb. Numb to being in existence, numb to being touched. I felt nothing.
Sound: my brain ran as fast as a train and I couldn’t keep up, all I could hear were my thoughts. I couldn’t concentrate on work, conversations or even reading a book. I couldn’t hear anything except for my own awful thoughts and how tragic I was.
Taste: everything was bland, nothing tasted good. There was just no flavour in food anymore, yet I ate for comfort. All the wrong foods too.
Smell: nothing smelled the same, it was all dull. It was like my brain was broken.
I was hopeless, I felt hopeless. There was nothing to look forward too in life. I wasn’t living, just getting by. I never want to go back to those dark places that robbed me so many years of my life.
I think about my journey when it comes to my mental health and sharing my story but am I actually making a difference? Bringing comfort to those who, like me, are going through hell wether it’s depression, anxiety or PTSD. People who are suffering in the silence and frightened about discrimination and the huge stigma that comes along with mental health. Scared to tell someone in fear of rejection or being told to just get over it.
I write my blog, like many other bloggers about mental health illnesses in the hope to inspire and bring attention to mental health but am I wasting my time? I no longer have social media apart from Instagram and I rarely use twitter so many people are not aware of my blogs existence. Maybe I’m just a shit writer and people just think I’m talking a load of nonsense.
Maybe I’m shit full stop……
Today I feel the familiar feeling of inner rage, like a red mist descending on me for no obvious reason, apart from the fact I’m due on my monthly so could be pms.
My routine has changed somewhat today which does not help either and being with the children amongst their screams and demands while in trying to clean the house is only aggravating me. Im starting to feel agitated and I don’t like it. It gets to the point where I have no patience and get snappy and basically turn into a bitch.
I’m also feeling fat, Fat, FAt and FAT! I hold more water than hoover damn. I work out 5 days a week and been doing a strict routine of exercise for the last 6 weeks and I’m struggling to see anything yet my husband reassures me that my body is changing and toning up, I really can’t see it. I see what I always see. Ugliness, fat and basically a disgusting sort of monster human.
I feel shitty today, and I’m struggling to find my way through the red mist which will soon turn to dense fog if I don’t try and sort my ridiculous brain out. I think it rules me not the other way around. Maybe I need a punchbag? I could say I have loads of energy but I spent that walking 1.5 hrs this morning and being anaemic doesn’t help my energy levels either.
I’m also tired. Me being tired=crankiness. I bet narky over be smallest of things, even the most ridiculous of stuff. I try not too but sometimes the feeling is so overwhelming that I can’t stop myself. I sound horrible don’t I. Maybe I’m always going to be unhinged?
There seems to be the belief that only women are affected by mental health and that men are emotionless creatures who are built for toughness. This is very much not true and even the toughest of guys can succumb to mental health issues, in fact the majority of suicides are indeed men.
Unfortunately unlike women, men are unlikely to seek help for their symptoms due to feeling embarrassed and discriminated and feel they won’t be understood. Men can be affected by all mental health issues including body image and eating disorders. The stigma for men with mental health disorders is so great that they feel there is no option left but to end their life. Their are many charities now trying to change that, to change people’s opinions on mental health.
Men won’t see their GP in the fear of feeling they are wasting the time of that doctor. A good doctor will sit and listen to their patient with patience and understanding and work out a plan to help you get better. Medication may be prescribed as well trying therapy like CBT but this does depend on the mental health issue.
Like women, men can feel incredibly lonely during a battle with a mental health issue or when it becomes a crisis they are most likely to seek help when there are thoughts of suicide and self harming. It sad that many won’t make that call. We need to change the perspective on mental health for men, make a change and show society actually men can suffer too. It does not make them weak or pathetic, a man that seeks help is inspiring, courageous and strong. It takes so much effort to realise that hey I’m struggling mentally. I need to speak to someone.
To all the men please don’t suffer in silence. Speak to your wife, partner, family or your doctor. Your not alone on the battle, your in to win the war.
Today me and my husband spent the day in London City after a we spent the evening watching an Ed Sheeran Gig with friends and a chilled night at a cosy hotel. I love London for its architecture and history, and after all it’s the capital city of England.
London Underground is heaving with people, faces you will never see again pass you by deep under the ground all making their way to their destinations. You can hear the rumble of the trains speeding along the tracks and masses of people line the platforms waiting for the train. Then you hear the tannoy, a ‘person on the tracks’ and delays on that line. This means someone has taken their life. You can hear the moans and groans of the people who may be effected by the delay, not actually thinking about the person who was so desperate to take their own life and what they must have been going through at the time to take that action.
The London Underground is a popular area for suicide and suicide attempts and has been since the tubes opened back on the 19th century, it’s relatively common for a body to be on the tracks. Of course they have ways to prevent death or limit life changing injuries by putting in a ‘suicide pit’ a hole beneath the rails on which the train passes over the person until they can be retrieved, that’s unless they have not hit the middle, live track which is running at 640volts and will result in instant death. There is roughly one death a week on the London Underground.
Those luckily enough to survive are usually charged with offences such as trespassing.
As well as the person who was clearly suffering mentally who died but the i dread to think of the impact it has on the train driver and witnesses, it would be heart wrenching to see as well as even causing the witnesses and the driver to develop mental health issues later on, it’s something that will never leave you, I’m sure of that. Many can develop PTSD.
Mental health and what it does to person is so damaging, depression itself can cause feelings of despair, feeling useless and worthless and not having anything to live for, it is also hard for a person to recognise they are poorly, I did for years. In denial about my mental health and blamed everyone’s else behaviour when it was actually my own. I didn’t want to admit I was poorly and fragile.
After today’s incident I feel not just for the person who jumped ( I’m unsure wether they survived or not) but for the train driver and the witnesses.
Anyone who feels suicidal should try and seek help, there is always someone there to help and listen.