Dry eyes, dry January

This year I celebrated the first New Year’s in at least five years where I haven’t cried. From ill timed breakups to breakdowns New Year’s Eve 2013 – 2017 have each been unhappy milestones in my history – especially the year where I got food poisoning and spent the countdown alone in a pitch black room clutching my stomach in pain, whilst my then boyfriend sat celebrating in the room next door.

However, this year despite a rocky past few months, which was catalysed into overdrive in the last few weeks of December due to work and personal events I was determined not to repeat history. I was determined not to cry or find a reason to cry as 2019 chimed in (accompanied by a remix of the Auld Lang Syne).

Firstly, I spent it with friends, my best friends, the ones who have been there through thick and thin and would probably die for me (and even take a rail replacement bus service on a Sunday during the holiday season) just to see me happy. We booked tickets in advance to a bar event on the other side of the river, arriving early to avoid disappointment and loading up on carbs, to avoid ringing in the New Years hugging a toilet bowl while your mascara mixes with tears, alternating between apologising and heaving your guts out.

Drinking sensibly and surrounded by the people I love, I allowed myself to enjoy the moment, something I had forgotten how to do; I danced, I laughed, I took way too many selfies, and for the first time in a long time I had fun. I felt happy, I felt content, I felt loved.

Prior to our New Year’s Eve outing I had made the decision to partake in ‘Dry January,’ and in order to stick to my first challenge of 2019 I stopped drinking at 23:45 on the 31st December 2018.

I’m 8 days into the challenge and determined to succeed at it. I have spoken openly about my depression in previous posts and as most will know alcohol is a depressant, so it’s only logical that a depressant will make a depressed mind worse. For years I have used alcohol to self medicate my depression when it was getting too much, it has never helped, the destruction of my physical and mental state visible through the blackout moments I can’t remember – a stream of unfiltered WhatsApp messages the next morning jerking my memory to realise it was bad whatever it was – self loathing and a disregard of my safety driving me to act dangerously and feed the black dog of depression inside.

Alcohol does not soothe the beast, it enables it to drag you further into the pit of despair, closing the exits as you go deeper into the rabbit hole of your mind, convincing you that you need it to cope with the world around you and blinding you to the beauty in it.

Although, I have had a turbulent relationship with alcohol, there are moment where I have enjoyed alcohol without blackout moments and feelings of regret and deep sadness the next morning – New Year’s Eve for example.

I’m not sure if I’ll drink again in February or there after, but I hope this challenge will teach me how to cope on my blue days without alcohol, to go to social events without feeling the need to drink because my anxiety is running laps around my rational thinking and entangling me in paranoia, and I hope it will give me the tools necessary to fight the beast my way.

 

 

Rumpelstiltskin

Last week I found myself at the edge point of a depressive episode.

I had received a message two weeks prior from my estranged father, who I hadn’t heard from in seven years. Instead of dealing with it rationally, I tried to drink it into submission, and bury it inside of me. This resulted in a bubbling of emotions, which eventually erupted in a cortisol fueled break in my stability. In summary: I cracked.

I rapidly spun into a depressive state, marred by the feelings of despair, loneliness, anxiety, and suicidal ideation. My previous post ‘Hold me like sand’ was written whilst in this state, it was a ‘cry for help’. I had fallen into a well of negative emotion, bought on by suppressing an unexpected occurrence, that had dragged up an armoury of feelings all targeted at my wellbeing.

I didn’t want this to occur but it was happening anyway. It was a cataclysm of external factors which didn’t fit neatly into my preexisting microclimates of things I knew how to cope with. I was out of my comfort zone.

I tried to ignore it but it was still there, and it was causing a rift of cognitive dissonance in my mind – I hadn’t spoken to my father in seven years, his neglect and failure to nurture me as a child caused me to show a great disdain towards him; when asked about him and I’d often respond with the rhetoric that ‘I don’t need him’ and ‘I’m better off without him in my life.’

However, this occurrence drudged up two questions from my childhood ‘why don’t they love me?’ and ‘why wasn’t I good enough?’

These questions are harboured in the foundations of who I am as a person, and are the likely causation of my attachment anxiety, which particularly manifest with romantic partners (something I hadn’t realised until a few days ago).

In the past I have reacted irrationally to the breakdown of a relationship, using targeted words and actions to cause the maximum amount of damage; because ‘I don’t need him’ and ‘I’m better off without him in my life.’ I feel rejected by that person so my brain uses its learned behaviour from my formative years in an attempt to protect itself.

I had thought if I continued to achieve in other areas of my life, than these questions would simply dissipate and cease to exist.

However, ignoring a problem doesn’t make it go away, identifying it as a problem and tackling it does – a bit like Rumpelstiltskin, if you can identify something you can solve it.


If you’re experiencing similar thoughts or feelings to those expressed in this post, it’s okay to reach out for help. You can find information about what mental health crisis services are available, how they can help and their times of operation here: https://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/guides-to-support-and-services/crisis-services/useful-contacts/ 


 

I am …

On the wardrobe to the left of my bed I have a blu tacked sign that reads: 

‘I am strong,
I am smart,
I am kind,
I am beautiful,
I am worthy’

I wrote this sign in September 2017. It is slightly crumpled with a distinct fold down the centre, and is decorated with a felt tipped drawings – a lightning bolt, a heart, a butterfly and a flower.

I read it every morning when I wake, and every night before I fall asleep. By reciting these words I remember to never underestimate myself.

My strength has made me smart, my kindness has made me beautiful, and all four looped together have made me worthy. These attributes make me worthy of living; of safety; of love; of confidence and respect – resulting in the self-actualisation to love myself and be the best I can be.

The realisation and understanding of what it means to be worthy has helped me to find calm in the chaos. I have come to realise that the worth that I am entitled to is that of my own, and not dependent on the thoughts and feelings of others. I am the measure of my own value.

No one is entitled to anyone else. We are merely granted the privilege of intimacy, both platonic and romantic, through choice. The realisation that the relationships and bonds you have with others is decided by choice, is a humbling one. It not only teaches that you dictate your journey in life, but also that you are important and you matter. Each friendship, each partner, each loved one, is someone that chose you. You are not entitled to them but they have deemed you worthy simply because you are.

Even those relationships deemed ‘unconditional’ by societal standards hold some sort of condition. This is usually dictated by whether an individual is deemed trustworthy and loyal enough to be worthy of this level of intimacy. Although, it can often be clouded by the feeling of obligation and or fear, which can stem from internal insecurities, resulting in self worth being hidden.

You are not obligated to give yourself to anyone you do not deem worthy, the intimacy you grant is your choice – and vice versa.

Coming to this realisation and understanding has allowed me to love myself and appreciate the person that I am, as well as all those who I have the privilege to know and love.

I will continue to recite the words on that blu tacked sign. I will continue to be, because I am.

Introduction

I’m never quite sure how to introduce myself, the advice given usually compiles of two factors – be yourself and tell them about a fun hobby/interest you have. My reaction, contrary to that advice, is also one of two things – clam up entirely and forget how to use words to communicate or ramble on a tangent about nonsensical things whilst nervously laughing.

To avoid my usual anxiety that comes with introductions, I’m going to take a different approach and tell you about the past couple of weeks of my life instead.

Two weeks ago, following a nostalgic night of celebration and well wishes at a friend’s leaving drinks, I decided to start a ‘health kick’. This ‘health kick’ consists of reducing my intake of simple carbohydrates, my intake of alcohol, and also attending the gym 4-5 times a week. The reason behind it, is my desire to be my best self; both physically and mentally stronger than the person I am, and used to be.

The past few years have been difficult for me to say the least, a roller-coaster of emotions triggered by a series of unforeseen events. During that time my mind became entrenched in my depression, and I struggled to see hope.

Depression is not a new feeling for me, and has been in the shadow of my existence as long as I can remember. I’ve taken antidepressants for four years and tried various psychotherapies, following my diagnosis of a tri-factor of mental illnesses; PTSD, major depression and severe anxiety. These have helped me to regain part of my life, but I realised there were still many parts missing, which were attainable if I were healthier.

After only a couple of weeks I have noticed that my mood is elevated, I look healthier, I have more energy, and I feel in control of my life. I feel stronger.

Not each day has been fantastic, but they are better than before. I still had stressful moments, especially during ‘snowmageddon’, and rush hour commuting at underarm height – where my head is often mistaken for an armrest, and other commuters wonder why I can’t contort myself into a thimble to save space. And also being taken off guard by the negative reaction of some friends, when I told them I couldn’t come out during the middle of the week because I had spin class, or that I wasn’t drinking on a night out.

These moments, despite not being positive in nature, served as reiteration of why I was making this change. I’m doing this for me, to be my best self.


If you’re experiencing similar thoughts or feelings to those expressed in this post, it’s okay to reach out for help. You can find information about what mental health crisis services are available, how they can help and their times of operation here: https://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/guides-to-support-and-services/crisis-services/useful-contacts/