Lifestyle - A New Beginning

I have an announcement!

*clears throat*

I HAVE A JOB!!!!!!!

My volunteering has paid off and I finally managed a right place/right time ultimate combo. The main selling point? My degree. Yup, the one I have always been slightly unhappy about. 

Don't get me wrong, I loved doing it and I wouldn't swap those experiences for anything. But I have never used it. I was all for going into Heritage Management after qualifying but then realised the route into the industry is fraught with broken dreams and living like a pauper for more years than I was willing to. 

So I did what most people do in that situation. Put my dreams on hold until there was a "right time" and got a proper job. I then spent numerous years working in a restaurant and dreaming of escape. I focused on education as I'd always thought I might like to teach. I applied for a couple of graduate schemes to become a French teacher but always fell down at the final hurdle. 

I retrained (whilst still working at the restaurant) and got myself a CELTA. Which is a foundation level qualification and the basic minimum for a job teaching English as a foreign language. 

I lived in Greece for a bit, came home, got married, ended up back at the restaurant again because I needed a job. Escape was so hard when there were bills to be paid. I dreamed some more, but just couldn't wiggle free. I spent a summer teaching English in the week and full-time in the restaurant at weekends (clocking up 70hr weeks in the process). 

I got pregnant and it was then I saw my chance. I *couldn't* go back to the restaurant. It just didn't fit around my childcare needs. But then they closed my restaurant whilst I was on maternity leave and I managed to get a payout for leaving a job I'd had no intention of returning to. Bonus. 

And then, to quote a well known TV theme tune 'my life got flipped, turned upside down'. I ended up a single parent and have battled with my own mental health for a few years. Last October my daughter turned five and the government insisted I look for a job. Now, I had been planning for this moment for a while and had tried to make myself more employable.

I started this blog because I was doing a counselling skills course and realised how depressed I was and how much I needed an outlet. That course was supposed to lead me to a job last summer, before the Jobcentre would ever need to be involved, but sadly it didn't. All the jobs I'd seen the year before that needed that qualification were not advertised. Bugger. 

I, therefore, dutifully signed on in the October to get my Jobseekers Allowance (JSA) and started the long, slow process of regaining employment.

I discovered the amount of skills I have puts a lot of employers off. And the government's insistence on focussing on the young unemployed by creating endless schemes to help them into jobs (which is great if you're 16-24) means employers have created millions of apprenticeships where there used to be entry level positions. 

Not so great if you're 36 and looking for a job. Any job, but don't have industry specific skills. I was a manager in a restaurant I can do admin. Possibly with my eyes closed. Have I had one single response to any of those applications? Nope. 

And then a teeny, tiny light in the dark. I found a secondary school (my preferred age range) that wanted volunteer Teaching Assistants. Perfect! I emailed over my application and a mere half an hour later they rang to offer me an interview! 

I finally started at the beginning of the summer term doing Wednesdays and Thursdays with the year 7 nurture group. I have genuinely enjoyed all of it. Even those days where I've (briefly) wished I was allowed to throttle them. And then at the end of June an advert appeared on their website. 

I, obviously, jumped at the chance. Made sure it was the best application I could do. Handed it in. Waited.

Is there anything worse than waiting?

I got so nervous one of the other TAs marched me up to the HR office so I could ask if the shortlist was ready. It was. And I was on it. Twice! 

Unbeknownst to me there were jobs going in three different areas. The Academy itself, the Intervention team (this has nothing to do with sitting your friend down and telling them you're concerned with their drug/alcohol use) and finally the Aspire project. 

Aspire is a free school that is opening in Hull in September. It is based around the Academy's Christian ethos that all students deserve to be taught. Even the ones who have been excluded from their own schools. It is taking pupils from all over the city with behavioural issues that have seen them excluded or at risk of exclusion from year 6 and up (that's 10/11yr olds up to 18yr olds.) 

And, here's the important bit, they will *all* be studying Leisure and Tourism. My degree subject! After so long with *no-one* caring about my degree having an interview panel (a member of each of those 3 different areas) all be excited by my degree. And that I carried my French up to my second degree year. And that I have counselling skills was a little pleasing, it has to be said. 

And then yesterday I got the phone call I had been praying for. I've been taken on to work at Aspire. I can't tell you just how exciting this is for me. I'm so proud of myself for not letting my anxieties stop me from pursuing something I *knew* I could be good at. And because I'll be at Aspire the chances of career progression are slightly higher. 

Moving in to teaching L&T could be a real prospect. And I'm not even scared by the idea any more. Plus, if I can make it through at least 2 years at Aspire, I think I could probably work anywhere! 

I have spent the last two weeks saying "if I get this job..." and planning so many nice things. First up, a holiday for madam and I. Not until next summer. But an actual holiday! My mum and dad have promised to finance a car for me. And I have been browsing dinky, just for madam and I, cars on auto trader. 

And finally, I've been work wear planning :) I have created a Pinterest board which you can have a look at if you fancy... 

I am crazy happy at the moment and just want to thank everyone for being so supportive (and enthusive) whilst I've been going through this process. 

As an aside, it is almost exactly six years since I went on maternity leave. I would never have imagined everything that has happened since then. But I am so ready for a change! 

Love, Pearl.

I officially have the skills

Yesterday was quite good, really. Given that it was a Monday, anyway!

 

I took madam to school in the morning as usual. She did wake up and tell me school is boring which is the first time I've ever heard that from her! Didn't stop her scooting to school like a mad thing though.

 

After dropping her off I headed for my mum and dad's to go grocery shopping (the glamour). We headed to Morrison's and I tried to remember all the things that were on the list I had carefully left at home. I bought madam and I a chocolate apple as this is my new favourite thing to get as a treat for her on a Monday after school.

 

We did start off with toffee apples, but apparently madam doesn't like those :(

 

After shopping we headed for college where I picked up my certificate from the counselling skills course I finished in May. I had been beginning to worry about whether I was ever getting it as it had been so long with no word!

 

When I picked it up I also asked about my portfolio as I hadn't been contacted to collect it and had also been expecting that back. The lady behind the desk said she'd look into it for me and I did get a phonecall letting me know it was in my tutors office and I could collect it whenever.

 

 

 

Obviously, I haven't got it yet as getting up to the college is a bit of a trek and I only went yesterday as I got a lift! So lazy. I shall probably head up tomorrow morning as I get more stuff done when I just get on with them straight after I've dropped madam off!

 

I went home and had lunch, went to the gym and picked madam up. She did her now usual trick of being a monumental pain in the bottom and got sent up to her room to cool off for a few minutes. This cooling off period after school seems to be quite important! She is really tired and cranky at 3.30 having five minutes to herself seems to really help her. But she wouldn't just go up there if I asked her to.

 

For dinner we voted for fish and I decided to do a crumble. I have to say, I think I outdid myself this time! It was so good. I made chocolate, cherry and almond for a bit of a change. I had a tin of cherry pie filling that had been sitting in the cupboard for a while.

 

So, as I was asked for a recipe last night, here is how I made it.

 

First, pour tin of filling into pie dish.

Weigh out 3oz of self raising flour and 1oz of cocoa powder. Add in 2oz of cubed softened butter and rub the ingredients together until it looks like breadcrumbs. Then add 2oz of sugar (this is more than I would normally put in, but I didn't want the cocoa to be bitter). And I chucked in a handful of flaked almonds as I found some in the cupboard! Mixed it up a bit and put it over the top of the fruit.

 

I put it in my oven at about 200 degrees C for 20 minutes, the smell in my kitchen was amazing! And it tasted pretty darn good, too ;) 

 

 

 

  

on the blocks to studying

 

 

I think that picture completely sums up my studying... I have completely lost all my abilities to do it later on in the evening like I always used to, but on the flip side, I can't settle to it in the day either! Argh.

 

I've been working on the last few bits I need to do to complete my portfolio, but it just doesn't seem to be getting any nearer to being finished off. It's starting to really frustrate me!

 

I was hoping that I'd get the afternoon at college again, like last week, but that has completely not come off as my parents are gardening and need to get it done before the plants my dad has been baking in the conservatory for the last couple of weeks finally give up and die!

 

They also bought a new rose called "Hot Chocolate" yesterday which they have put in the gap the postman (and any other door to door people, of which there are many) uses to go from next door to here. It is very prickly, they're hoping the nice people will stop cutting across the garden and go round...

 

Madam is helping grandpa plant out some bluebells and crocuses atm... I think it's probably a bit late to be planting either, but I feel it's best I don't comment... Speaking of bluebells, I'm hoping to get up to Burton Bushes and show madam the bluebells there. There's usually a really good show at this time of year.

 

Anyway, back to my troubles with studying. I find that having depression means that my thoughts actually swish around in my head similar to an imperfectly set jelly. It won't hold it's shape if you take it out the mould, and we all know about trying to nail jelly to a wall.

 

So, I know all the information is in there. I can recall it when asked a specific question, but if I have to hunt through the contents of my mind to find something and then make it connect to something else it becomes a much more difficult task.

 

And also, because all my emotions are constantly heightened and I'm feeling everything at once some days then I'm shattered from all that effort of making my outside appear normal. The superb Hyperbole and a Half has written an amazing post about processing feelings whilst depressed I'm not sure my depression has ever been as deep as the authors obviously is/was, but the idea of making the effort to appear normal on the outside I identify with strongly.

 

Being shattered plus having no way of pinning down the jelly in my brain is really frustrating me. I have done some college work this week, but I always feel like I'm playing catch up somehow. I am incredibly glad that these blogs count towards my portfolio...

 

The strange thing was that last week at college the rest of the group were made aware of the blog I write and there were a couple who were interested in starting their own. I did say I'm not an expert in it, but that there were plenty of sites that guide you through it all. It'll be interesting to find put how many of them actually do go through with it.

 

Especially as we're having to say goodbye to each other and I know that I will miss everyone in the group. We've become more than just a teaching group. This is probably to do with the very personal nature of some of the things we talk about. The shared experiences we've been through.

 

And I'm so pleased we've made it. I think it seems so long since we started out on this quest. I know how terrified I was of walking in that room for the first time. The fear of the unknown, of how I might be judged. I had no confidence, just the knowledge that I wanted to do this for me and to give myself an experience to be proud of.

 

I was hopeful that it would prepare me for a job within the field and that it would be an extension of other skills that I hold. It was so much different to how I thought it would be, but I put that down to my personal demons than the course. The inner struggle I have constantly to battle with was actually unacknowledged at the start. And after I did seek help things got much easier for me.

 

The tutor has been so good with all of us. I am so appreciative of the extra time she has given me and spent on bolstering my fragile self esteem. I have felt nurtured and cared for which I can't say I've ever experienced from a tutor before. I wish I'd been able to share the things that were causing blocks to me sooner. I might have been able to put less stress on myself.

 

I didn't intend (again) for this post to be so rambling, I do apologise for the lack of focus! Here is a picture of some big cats in boxes to make up for it!

 

 



college is nearly over

I spent the large part of my day at college yesterday, I was lucky enough to have the chance to just concentrate on my portfolio for an afternoon. I think that, other than some cross referencing that I need to get finished and a couple of short summaries I need to add, I'm ready to hand it in next week!

 

Part of the course is to do practise sessions to use the skills that we're learning. I had to do my final skills practise in front of my tutor yesterday and despite being nervous about having to be observed by the tutor I think I managed it quite well.

 

I was speaking with another member of the group and had to act as her client first as she was being assessed too. I find I can talk to this person really easily and we have a few shared experiences that we've spoken about before.

 

I find when I'm talking I can talk much more freely with her than with other members of the group. And it's not because of any thing that they do or don't do, it's more this understanding and empathy that she manages to give me. It's mainly because she was the first person I really spoke to about my depression, I think.

 

I then had to play the counsellor role and although I was still very aware of the tutor being there I did find myself mainly becoming absorbed in what J was saying and I was very sorry that I had to bring our session to a close as we'd run out of time. I was mainly happy with how I had performed in the session, but was aware of things that I would have liked to have done better.

 

There were moments when I was listening when J was quite emotional and I found it very difficult not to let the friend part of our relationship encroach. To some extent I find it difficult to be objective when it's someone you have a personal relationship with. It's never nice having to sit and see someone being upset, but particularly hard when it's a friend.

 

I am really glad I've managed to get to the end of the course as there have been moments where I just didn't think I would make it. I've managed to get over my desire to run away and I am really glad that I am going to be there to see it through.

 

Based on the first week were I went in terrified of what I had got myself in to, but determined to better myself. I have come a long, long way. I have admitted to my depression and am on my way to recovery. I have made some really good friends who I hope to stay in touch with going forward.

 

I have learnt some really interesting things and I have discovered a desire to learn more about them. Including an interest in psychology and how the personality is formed. I wish that I could go on to do the next level in September, but I can't afford it and have no way of raising £500ish before then.

 

So I think I'll just go with trying to find a job where I can put the skills I've learnt into practise. My ideal would be to work within a secondary school, I'm interested in giving teenagers someone they can talk to. I don't think there is enough support for them. Or at least, that they don't access the help that exists as they don't know about it. So that's my plan. Just hope I can find someone who will employ me...

 

Cause I hear that jobs are just so easy to come by at the moment. Still. 

  

it's been six months already

It appears that blogging keeps me sane. I don't like missing a day, it makes me panicky and stressed. This might not be entirely healthy. But I am off my Prozac which probably explains it.

I decided that I had to just come off it and see what happens. I can always start it again if I feel I need to and at least now I'm less worried about asking for more. But I like knowing that my feelings are all my own again and nothing is being fiddled with.

I think the blogging helps me to organise my thoughts in a way that I'd tried to do by writing them out before. But that never seemed to work for me, and I never seemed to be able to keep it up. This way, where I know people are reading what I'm thinking, encourages me to keep sharing.

I've had a couple of people get in touch to say that this blog is helpful to them in small ways and that fills me with joy. I know it's hard to keep going every day and I know it's hard to understand how other people are really feeling.

I think that being able to share some of the things that lead me to my way of thinking and what the procrastination really is can only helpful. My procrastination is the big curse of my life, but I'm much more aware of what it is and how it's actually a way of helping me. It's just a false friend and I need to learn to conquer it.

Because who needs a friend who helps you get into more trouble but makes you feel comfortable about getting there. Even if I never learn to "just do it" as some of those terrifying really organised people advocate, I do want to change and learn and grow. I'd love to at least get better at the whole organising thing!

The one thing I have noticed is that my sense of humour seems to be coming back to me. I use humour as a defence mechanism and always have done, but having not had a reason to just let loose and have fun I've not been just my usual self for ages.

And it's always when something comes back that you realise that it had gone in the first place. A bit like when I had my breakthrough at the end of last year and spent the night dancing around to very loud music (on my headphones). I realised that in the 6 months since I'd moved into that house this was the first time I'd blasted music and just danced.

I'm a dancer in my soul. I used to do ballet as a child and all the way through my teen years I danced in my bedroom, singing into a deodorant bottle pretending I was on stage in front of a massive audience. I still let loose and sang and danced whenever I had the house to myself right up until when I had madam. Then, obviously, I was never alone.

But I would put the music on my headphones as I walked her round for her afternoon nap in her pushchair when she was tiny. And I found myself dancing around the aisles of various shops mouthing the words only I could hear. In fact I'm doing chair dancing even as I type this!

And when she got big enough that I couldn't even have that headspace whilst she had an afternoon nap (and she stopped going in the buggy by the time she was 2) I danced at night when she was in bed, before I went mostly. I would put my headphones in and some slow songs on whilst I got ready for bed and then by the time I was upstairs and putting my pyjamas on I was on to the fast stuff and a quick dance before bed.

Sometimes that quick dance round my bedroom would last a couple of hours!

And then we moved house and somehow, with all the stress of moving and then himself coming home and then leaving again I lost that bit of myself too. All those little bits of yourself that you don't even know were the things that you needed to keep your sanity...

And I lost them. I lost my sense of fun, my music, my inner voice, my sleep patterns, my vague sense of cleanliness, my hope, my confidence. Just little bit by little bit. And I didn't even notice them going until they were lost. And I was in a café crying because I just didn't know how I was going to get through.

And then I was picked up by my friends, who hadn't known how bad it was. By the medical profession who helped me find that even keel again, by the Citizens Advice Bureau who showed me how to start. And by my parents who'd been worried but hadn't known how to approach me (I can be very stubborn).

So, as it is six months since I started on the road to being me again I guess it's time to start being me. No drugs. Just me.

Hello. How're you?

how perfectionism leads to procrastination

Yesterday on twitter I saw this picture shared and I loved it so much that I really wanted to share it with you

I don't know where it actually came from, but it makes me feel better :)

 

I don't really have time to write a proper post today, there are far too many things I've got going on. Thursday is a bit of a rush for us. I tend to have a lazy morning with madam and then we have to get ready for her to go to gymnastics at 4 and me to be at college by 6. I just have to drive us from my parents house down to gymnastics then back across town at rush hour.

 

Then I have to go across to the other side of town to get to college (still in rush hour traffic). Now this town is not big. If it was a normal trip each of those journeys would probably take no more than 10 minutes tops. In rush hour they both take a good 20 minutes if not more. This isn't that long, I know. But I only have an hour to do this.

 

And madam's gymnastics quite often overruns. I have to (almost literally) throw her out at my parents and get straight off again so that I can get to college in time to at least get myself a coffee before class.

 

And I'm still behind on my work so I have that to deal with every time I go. I hate knowing that I'm behind. This course is important to me and my hideous procrastination seems to be trying to make me fail.

 

According to FlyLady procrastination comes from perfectionism. Which sounds counter intuitive, but I can understand it. Because you want to do something properly (perfectly) and you don't think you can you put off doing it until you think you can achieve that perfection. And as anyone who knows anything will be able to tell you, the perfect time never comes.

 

So I've decided that I can't keep on making things worse for myself. I'm going to the library tonight and finishing off the work that I have to get done. Then I can have that off my head for the Easter break. I use that time (I really will) to catch up on the worksheets (there aren't many) and my reflections journals.

 

I can't decide whether to print off all my blogs and add them to the personal study part of my portfolio as they are evidence of personal growth and evolution of self. But maybe that's not necessary... I dunno.

 

So my question is, do you think they're worth including or not? 

deep in the forest...

Suddenly it's Wednesday again... where do my weeks  go? I'm at college again tomorrow and I haven't organised what I need, again... I could swing for myself, I really could.

 

Anyway, the counsellor and I spent the majority of our session discussing learning to deal with feelings and how the whole thing with my daughter being upset with her dad is a good learning experience for her. I still haven't got as much enthusiasm for it as my counsellor did, but I can see her point. Learning to recognise and accept feelings, whether they are ones we want to experience or not, is how we learn to cope with them.

 

If we can get to a point where we can accept the emotion, acknowledge it's presence, and then chose to either go with it or against it, then we are getting to a point where we might be emotionally mature. There were never any lessons at school about how to deal with our emotions and what to do with the ones that invade our consiousness in an all pervading fashion. I know that for the longest time I used to (and still mostly do) deal with my emotions through food. Its the only thing that I am comfortable doing.

 

The more miserable or lonely or sad or angry or bored or any emotion really, the more I use it as an excuse to eat. This is how come I'm now getting to a point where I could be mistaken for the side of a house. And the stupid part is that the general size of a houseness also drives my feelings of unhappiness and makes me eat more. I'm fully aware of this cycle and yet I haven't found a new way to deal with my emotions so that I can stop it.

 

But this is what the blog and my story (that I haven't written any of for a while, sorry) are suppose to be about. This way to express myself and my creativity should be enough to stop me needing that emotional crutch that I've always used, but it doesn't seem to be working very well yet. I am not capable of leaving my emotions at the door, like some people seem to be able to do. I'm glad that I do have things like my crochet/knitting to help me calm my mind when it just wont turn off, I read and I watch movies that make me cry. I'm learning to accept my emotions as they happen rather than muting them so they creep up on me.

 

I talked to my counsellor about my nana yesterday too. How I'd never cried about her death, how I'd not even known where they'd buried her, how my grandad dying had at least brought me some closure. But I still think about her all the time, and I still wish that she were here. She would be 86 if she were still alive, and this year is 20years since she passed. It seems so unfair to have lost her so soon when all my other grandparents made it to their 90s. Worse that she was 10years younger than them in the first place. I wonder how my mother will feel next year when she reaches the same age her mother was. And how it will feel if she lives to be older than her (which, obviously, I'm sure she will). I can't imagine how I would cope without my mother, nor how my father would. I can see my moving in with him so that he wouldn't have to be alone.

 

My goodness I'm big on the deep and meaningfuls this week... It's not planned, I promise. I just write the things that come into my head and then I can read them and file them as dealt with. I need this release otherwise I drive myself insane and I can't sleep for my brain whirling these things around.

 

And once it starts then it chucks in all sorts of other stuff that I've been avoiding for whatever reason! Great.

 

I'm trying to think of something positive I can end this piece with, cause I don't like leaving you down at the bottom if I can help it. So remember this, even Pinocchio got to be a real boy in the end!

 

 

 

thoughts are king

Yesterday's post, which you can find here was a bit deep and meaningful for a Monday morning. But I make no apologies for it as I was incapable of thinking about anything else until I'd expressed that inner frustration. Having written it down I've managed to persuade my brain that it's registered and that we can move on to the next minor problem it would like to inflate unrealistically...

 

Last night I had a complete parenting fail as madam and I both fell asleep on the sofa until 4 this morning! She then came straight up to my bed with me, so she totally won the "I want to sleep with my mummy all night" battle. Drat. That'll make tonight so much harder as she's managed to get her own way once... She's ridiculously stubborn (can't think where she might have got that from!) and our battle of wills matches go on for hours. That'll be fun then. *sigh*

 

This morning there was less of a battle to get madam to school, which was a relief. She seems to have finally got the idea that things carry on around her whether she feels like interacting with it or not. She made a half-hearted attempt to get me to stay at school with her, but I merely had to say "no" and she accepted it. I'm so upset that I've had to let her learn about this side of life so soon. But I'll have to content myself with the knowledge that it'll be of use to her throughout her entire life. 

 

As we walked to school this morning she was telling me again about how daddy had punched me. Right down to demonstrating which bit of me he'd hit. I could happily throttle the husband for how he's made my daughter feel, but that wouldn't really be a good example on my part now, would it... 

 

I'm seeing the counsellor again this afternoon and having had something of a breakthrough where I admitted to my inner demons (which I wrote about here) I have a feeling she's going to be prodding the sore bit again. Not entirely looking forward to this. I've only got today and one more session to go and then the NHS can no longer help me. I'm a bit concerned that I will not be ready to stop then. But as I'm rubbish at endings I think that would be true no matter how many sessions I had.

 

I'm not sure what I do with my excess emotions once I don't have someone to talk to about it, I guess the blog will really come into it's own at that point. Then I figure you poor people will have to put up with even more rambling madness from me. And though I wish I could emulate some of my blogging heroes, I don't think I ever will be that skilled. 

 

Oh! I remembered something I was going to share with you on Friday... My college tutor used a Calvin and Hobbes cartoon as an example for us on Thursday evening. I knew I liked her... :)   

  

is it time for a holiday?

I've had no chance to really get online for the last couple of days and it's been driving me nuts. I don't like being kept from doing things, though I was able to focus and catch up with some of my college work that's been dragging.

 

Having had such a stressful couple of days at the beginning of the week madam has been really suffering and not knowing whether she's coming or going. She's been really clingy with me and been worried constantly about my leaving her. She got herself so wound up on Tuesday that she made herself poorly enough that nursery phoned and asked me to pick her up. She was then fine all afternoon until bedtime. At which point she didn't want to be by herself in bed and came and clung to me until she fell asleep on the sofa next to me.

 

I couldn't bring myself to wake when she was so obviously distressed and so she got to snuggle up with me until bedtime. And then cough in my ear when we did go to bed... *sigh*

 

The next morning (Weds) she was refusing to go to school until I pointed out it was joining in day which meant that I would be staying. This was genuinely the only reason she went. I have never, not once, known her to not want to go to school. She loves her teacher and gets lots from the social side of school too. We had a good old time and it was nice to see her somewhat in her element. Even if she was sitting with me more than with her friends.

 

Yesterday (Thurs) just turned into a really non-productive morning followed by a crammed afternoon. We had to race round to get everything to fit into our schedule. Bit of a mare, but I do enjoy it when we have a purpose to our little world. Madam was at gymnastics and has now got her proper t-shirt to go with her big girl class. To say she was proud of it would be an understatement! I went to college and managed to not nod off half way through, which felt like an achievement given how tired I suddenly was.

 

My portfolio is now almost completely up-to-date and I'm beginning to relax a bit about the end of the course coming up. I'm really going to miss having that adult space to think and I'm a little worried that I might experience a new dip in my mood when it does happen. The girls on the course have all become good friends as the course calls for a certain intimacy that might have been uncomfortable at first but has led to some open and interesting discussions.

 

And now we're at Friday again and I'm going to Guides tonight. Hopefully all 10 of our regulars will be there, but it's proving an uphill battle to keep them occupied. They're so negative about pretty much every activity you suggest to them. It would be nice to knock all of their heads together and ask them why they're bothering to come if they're not interested. I'm pretty sure I'm not allowed to do that though...

 

Today is the International Day of the Girl and I'm hoping we can get the Guides at least thinking about girls in other countries  and how their lives might be different. And hopefully they might see that their lives are privileged in so many ways but possibly poorer in others.

 

Madam and I had fun earlier choosing our Mother's Day presents for my mum, we've also ended up buying ourselves a present too... Oops. I'm very excited as I finally have the original version of The Wizard of Oz on DVD now :) And it was sort of free as I had a £5 clubcard voucher and that's how much the DVD was! Score :) 

   

and the cough goes on...

Gah! Failed to blog again yesterday, this being ill malarkey is getting right on my nerves. Madam and I had a pyjama day and didn't leave the house, which is where the blogging runs into problems as I can't post from home...

 

I'd been thinking on things on Friday evening and had come to some deep and meaningful type conclusions. I talked with my counsellor about how I would feel when I've finally got my life sorted and why it was so hard for me to get on and do it. And we came up with the whole I would have nothing to put in the way of my real feelings if everything was uncluttered/dealt with. 

It's a bit the same with the crap in the living room, all that stuff takes up space and gives me a tiny area that 's actually livable, which is a pain. But I was wondering why I allow the space to get full and how it feels when the stuff isn't there. And the answer is the obvious one, well, it's empty. But empty is so very bad, to me. If there is nothing to fill the rooms with I become this tiny insignificant part of my own house. I am not enough, by myself, to fill a room. So I fill it with so much stuff that I can barely move around it and then I feel safer.

 

You can probably guess that I didn't finish what I'd started in the living room as I slightly freaked out, after my initial joy, and went into a bit of a poorly/panicky place and have done bog all since then.

 

It's crazy how much this cough is getting me down, I routinely have at least one chest infection a year and have done since I was a small child. So coughing is part of my daily life almost. There are short periods in the summer where my cough might clear up altogether, but it's always back before too long just to remind me of its presence. And most of the time it doesn't really bother me. It just sounds terrible. Right now though it's like there are knife blades in my lungs when I cough. And I can't stop so my whole body is throwing itself into the fray to try and get up this stuff sitting in my lungs. Which makes me ache, my shoulders and my back in particular... God, I'm a whiny so and so when I'm ill...

 

I've achieved very little so far today too... We did manage to get to church this morning and I managed to join in with the singing, though much quieter than usual... I also coughed almost constantly through it which elicited many enquiries as to why I wasn't in bed! Oh, how I wish I was, but lying down is making it worse atm, so that's a big old "NO".

 

It's Mother's Day next Sunday and I am hoping for a slightly sticky, very glittery and almost certainly wonky card :) She is a very creative little thing and does enjoy any excuse to be let loose with the glitter. And there are certain days in the year where I totally love it! Is that wrong?

 

    

who knows where

Been having a struggle again today as I seem to have reverted to being just as poorly as I was at the weekend. I can't stop this hacking cough and it's making the whole of my chest hurt again. As my antibiotic course is nearly at an end I think I may need a repeat!

I have spent a large part of today asleep as madam has caused chaos around me. She has also been fridge raiding and had a somewhat interesting combination of foods so far. I've not eaten anything, too unsure whether I'll keep it down. I'm also suddenly roasting hot!

I more of my story written last night, but I've lost a bit of focus as to where it should go next.
Basically I've been a bit all over the place for the last couple of days since I was at the counsellor.

Yesterday my mum and I wrote a letter to send to my landlord in the hope that it'll persuade him not to evict me. He lives all the way down in Kidderminster so it's not surprising he doesn't manage the property himself. I've sent it to the lawyer who's overseeing my case and she's approved it. Just need to send it off now. Gulp. This sort of it. If it doesn't work we'll have to move. Again. *cries* I haven't got the strength to start again, I just haven't. And I'm terrified about where we might end up... I'm going to have to throw myself on the mercies of the council. Which could mean I finally get a home with a bit more stability to it (I'm unlikely to be evicted from it) but there is the question of where I might end up living.

My fear is that I'll have to leave my home town, that I will end up even more isolated than I'm feeling already. I can't be placed in a village as I have no car so that's something of a relief. But there are plenty of towns big enough to shove us in. Goole, anyone?

an empty space

I left the counsellors yesterday feeling emotionally drained. I was right, I did cry. I knew we'd been getting closer and closer to that sore spot that I try so very hard to hide. And I knew that it was her job to poke it. But it still hurt.

 

She and I are dealing with my inaction over all aspects of my life, and finding why I seem incapable of finishing projects. And she kept picking away at it until I knew why it was that I do it. And now, finally, I think I might.

 

I'm afraid of something, that much is obvious from the inaction. But my inability to even complete things that would be of benefit to me is the real sticking point in my life. I am building my wall of things around me, but it's not to keep people out, it's to give me something to fight against. I constantly have an internal battle going on, wherein I hate how I've let things pan out, but then don't finish off fixing them.

 

Because what happens when they're fixed?

 

What happens when it's just me?

 

Do I have to deal with my emotions then?

 

And then, only then, can I admit to the great modern problem. I am alone. My stuff fills my home so it's not empty, my worries fill my head so it's not empty. But nothing can fill that empty space in my heart I hide. I am alone and so, so lonely.

 

I'm a strange mixture really, in most cases I would chose to be by myself, I follow mostly solitary pursuits. Reading, knitting, crochet etc. and I enjoy the inner peace they help me find. But there are moments when all the inner peace in the world wouldn't be as welcome as just someone to give you a hug.

 

This is how the husband worms his way in with me. I need the warmth that he seems to exude. But I'm staying strong. I haven't phoned him once since our return from Bristol at new year. Not even just because hearing his voice is enough for me. I don't want to be in his thrall any more. I want to be strong enough.

 

But now that I can admit to being crushingly lonely I wonder how you fix it?

 

It's not like you can magic it so that all the lovely people you spend time talking to on twitter can actually be with you in your living room (and given how untidy it still is, I don't know where I'd put you all!) And I can't suddenly not be a parent so that I could go to more of the social activities that interest me in an evening.

 

So what is the answer? I'm afraid I don't know yet. But I think knowing the problem might at least start to help me look...

a happy heart

I was on a high after my success yesterday morning and was determined to not let anything get me down. This meant that when I collected madam from school and she was quite obviously full of a cold (she had her "I'm poorly" face on) and feeling all tired-y I elected to deal with it in the way that I'd like to have been treated.

 

So I made her walk to Tesco and we went to sit in the cafe, have a drink and then we would get the bus home. We also got her a new DVD for her to watch whilst she lay, pathetically, on the sofa making my leg go to sleep.

 

We happened to bump into some friends of ours who manage to have the interesting ability of always making me feel like I am so much more in control of my life than I know I really am. Sadly, the reason for this is because her life is even more out of control than mine. But yet she's still smiling and always manages to give me good advice and help when I need it.

 

So whilst we nattered our two kids did what all modern children now seem to do, played on the apps on our phones! Then we shopped, I bought a proper digital thermometer as I'm sick of the guesswork of a fever strip, the DVD I mentioned and an awesome t-shirt with a rhino on :) If any of you are wondering if I got anything out of this shopping trip (the t-shirt? No, don't be silly...) I got laundry detergent and stain remover. Woot! Oh well, least I have something to wash the laundry mountain in now...

 

Madam and I loved the DVD! It's called The Lorax and it was made by the same people who did Despicable Me (one of our joint favourites) and it was just as good. I do like Dr. Seuss although I was unfamiliar with this story. It's all environmental and worthy, without you feeling like you're being preached to (stand up Happy Feet, you're fired!). The grandmother is now my hero. I'm sure we're way behind and everyone else has already discovered it, but I heartily recommend it.

 

And then last night I finished off chapter 5 of Storm in the Shadows (check it out, there's a link here ). I am soooo pleased with it. I think I might have made the story much harder for me to write now, but still! This, I suppose is only a first draft...

 

And then this morning crashing reality came in. Boo... We both overslept (me because I'd spent so long with my brain on fast forward last night, her because of the cold) and then we just couldn't. It was all so much effort. I did manage to not be shouty mummy as I was aware that she wasn't feeling 100%, but she had no temperature and seemed a bit more herself than she had been. She insisted on the new t-shirt and I figured it wasn't worth an argument. Then we slowly, slowly, slowly walked to school. I merely handed her over at the front door and then headed for respite.

 

I am at my counsellors later on, don't know where this week will go. There might be crying, I'm just feeling that way out today...

 

Oh, and this little blog of mine has now topped 1000 pageviews! I'm so inspired and awed by your support.

 

Thank you. From the very bottom of my heart and soul. Thank you.

 



remember, counsellor knows best

So I had a rather heavy chat with my counsellor yesterday. We moved on from dealing with my hoarding as, well, I'm getting on top of that by myself. So that means we might have to start on some of the stuff that actually *causes* my depression as opposed to one of the symptoms of it.

You know, like getting the antibiotics in when treating the symptoms isn't curing it.

One of my main issues (for many years) has been the level of debt I'm in. Now, I'm lucky, I don't have a massive overdraft or many credit/catalogue bills. But the trouble is, having been on benefits for four years now (yeesh...) I've not been able to pay stuff off, or even cover the interest in some cases. And given that I'm aware of what priority debts are I have always tried to keep up with those and let everything else fall by the wayside.

If I never open the letters or answer the phone (I *loathe* answering my phone) then it just goes away. If I spend all day out of the house I don't even have to see any letters arrive.

It's that head in the sand attitude that's got me where I am today.

But I've made a start by going to the CAB about it, I've worked out all my debts and how they can be dealt with. I've got a massive envelope that I need to deal with. But I'm going to do that in the same way I've been doing the cleaning. I'm going to set my timer for 15 minutes and get it all out and go through it. I bet I'll have time to spare, but the idea and the job have magnified in my head to being something enormous.

If I can get this dealt with it's a massive stress taken from me.

It's almost like I've lived with it for so long that I'm afraid of what my life will be without it. In some kind of weird Stockholm syndrome type of effect. I think I might be mentally deficient somewhere!

My friend L told me yesterday that I was only human. I said perhaps I had been assimilated by the borg mainframe (that's a Star Trek reference, culture fans). But what I meant was that I may look and sound human, my thoughts sometimes seem to be being controlled by someone else. I shall battle on and regain my control. I will get myself back to who I think I was before.

My counsellor gave me a survey on positive personal attributes. I've been given one for someone else to fill in also. Any takers?

why so blue?

I'm feeling a bit nervous today as I've got a meeting with my counsellor this afternoon and I haven't actually done all the things she asked me to do. I have done some of them and I've done stuff that wasn't on her list. But (probably needlessly) I'm now worried about what she's going to say.

 

She's probably not even allowed to be mad at me, as I'm in the early stages of counselling... 

 

There's this overwhelming urge I seem to have to please people. I didn't even fully realise I had it until I started this process of recovery. I don't think it's necessarily a bad thing, but it's a pain when you know you haven't lived up to (your own idea of) other peoples expectations. This is when the voice in my head starts. The negative thoughts that drive me to hide away and pretend the problem will dissolve itself away as if by magic. There are so many things I wish I was stronger about, this is one of them. 

 

You see, that right there, that's me telling myself I'm not good enough. Again. I am trying to be more positive about myself, to focus on what I do well, to stop beating myself up all the time. It's a hard habit to break when you've done it for so long though. And everyone does it. Everyone has those little moments of self doubt where they need a bit of a hand to get over a hurdle. But if you do it all the time it's exhausting and damaging.

 

You know, I'm actually doing it right at this moment. By writing this post I'm avoiding dealing with something else I don't want to deal with.

 

I need to go and drop some stuff off at the Citizens Advice as they've been having a look at this whole "we're going to evict you because your house is untidy" malarkey. But my mum is one of the volunteers and, today, guess where she's working? Now, she knows all about what's going on, she's my mum and she's a lovely person. But I just don't want her to be the person that is helping me with this (and before you ask, no, it's not against their policy for volunteers to help their family members). I'd much rather the anonymity of a stranger. It's weirding me out. It's me doing this again though, as I don't need to see an adviser really, just to drop things off. She's likely to be busy with someone else and therefore I won't even see her at all. But I'm finding excuses again.

 

So basically today is going to be crappy because I am avoiding things in my own inimitable syle. Joy. 

I am slowly working myself to a standstill and then I will be worse off (again). So I'm off to the CAB where I'm probably not even going to see my mum and then I'm going to the counsellor. 

 

Oh, and I get to go to my new craft group after I've collected madam from nursery :-) 

 

There is always a good point if you look for it hard enough!    

why blog?

I’m sure there are loads of you (I’m hoping at least 2) wondering why I’ve started to blog.

It’s another one of those I’m going to tell you in a story explanations that you may have to get used to if you’re going to be a regular reader (and I really hope you are!) In fact, sign up, there’s a button right over there à ;-)

I started doing a NCFE Level 2 in Counselling Skills in September at my local college as a night class. I was determined to try and get a bit of myself back and pick up some new skills whilst I was at it. So, when we’d done the first week our teacher informed us that part of our assessment was to complete weekly Reflection Journals. For anyone who’s never written one it’s basically taking everything we’d been discussing in the week and writing what you think about it and how it might be relevant to your life. I quickly realised this was about to be my mortal enemy as I was actually going to have to discuss my feelings with myself.

It’s something I have mainly tried to avoid as it’s a bit like deliberately poking yourself in the eye. Painful and makes you cry for a ridiculous amount of time afterwards. So I did my usual glossing over it for the first week and this was acceptable as, seemingly, we’d pretty much all struggled with it. However, we were urged to be more personal. We were told that everything was utterly confidential and the more personal we were the better. I tried to pretend that I was ok with this when I was really dreading it. I found I couldn’t always find anything to write about, I really hated it.

Then came my darkest point, I was so low I could barely stay awake in the session. All the things that I had been trying to put off where now (in some cases literally) knocking at my door and I had to admit to myself that I really needed some help. Cue a visit to the doctor (finally), which involved much weeping. I then had to go through the start of quite a lot of meetings with the Citizens Advice Bureau and then, by the next week, back to the docs again.

The upshot of all this was that I was finally being listened to. I was finally admitting to how hard it’s really been and that I needed people to support me and help me sort myself out.

There was also a skills session at college where I started spilling my soul to one of my peers in our practice sessions. She was so good about it and again made me feel less abnormal than I thought I was.

And suddenly I knew what to write in my Journals. I had found the courage to be real and the writing just flowed. And the more I write, the more I explain, the better I’m feeling. Yes, the Prozac I’m on is helping but I’m not mad keen on being long-term medicated and need other coping mechanisms. I’ve been given enough to last me up till April and then, hopefully, with the doctors’ help I’ll be able to start weaning myself off them. 6 months on Prozac is enough, I feel.

So that’s where the blog comes in. Getting responses to my writing is so helpful. I’m being supported from all around the world just by people reading. It gives me another reason to keep trying.

Most of all, the idea that by being honest, open and truthful about where I am and what I’m feeling I might be able to help someone else who is as lost as I was not even that long ago is enough to drive me forward.

If you need to ask me anything, please do. I’m happy to elaborate!