I Went To See a Clairvoyant

 


Not a blog title a ever expected to be writing. There are some things in life that I try to avoid discussing, mostly areas that tread into the territories of politics and religion as they can cause heated discussions and conflicts amongst friends. Generally I used to describe myself as an atheist until I realised that would mean that I didn't believe in anything spiritual. I don't follow a religion but when it comes to discussions on what happens after death I do have some particular beliefs, mostly that this can't be all there is, surely we can't live for decades only to fade into nothing once we die. I'd never preach my views nor would I dismiss those of others, we can disagree without being disrespectful of one another.

I never would have thought I'd be going to see a clairvoyant, it's a word that summons images of palm readings, tarot cards, rabbits feet, crystal balls and an episode of 'The Simpsons'. I've felt like my life has been lacking direction for a long time, my mental health has affected what I can do on a daily basis. My crippling anxiety prevents me from even contemplating filling out a job application and I've always known that life in an office would never be for me. My head frequently tells me that I'm lazy although I know that I don't truly believe that. At the age of 24 being out of the education system with support on career advice and people assisting you towards a particular direction, I've felt lost. I have various interests and hobbies but can any of those become a career? Would I even be able to consistently do something without falling out of love with it? It has happened before back when I was on track to heading off to study art only to realise that I wasn't enjoying churning out artwork for good grades and the approval of certain people.

There is always the option of going to see a careers adviser or life coach if you need a change of pace or direction in life. It's always worth keeping in mind that it is never too late to start a new career, hobby or passion. It will take a lot of work, time and patience but if it will bring happiness it's certainly worthwhile. I started looking into clairvoyants after watching 'Holywood Medium with Tyler Henry', something which was initially just another trashy TV programme; part of my self care routine. I became engrossed in the episodes as I saw how he was genuinely connecting with loved ones that had passed on, he was receiving information that he could never have obtained via Google and he also made predictions on the clients futures which were spot on too. Whilst I'd love to be able to connect with lost loved ones, I knew that getting my life on track was the main priority. Mediums are able to connect with the deceased whereas clairvoyants are able to address future concerns. I like to think that I'm an open minded person, but sometimes it can be difficult when you hear of con artists or when the people around you are sceptical. I set up my first appointment and said that I was going to see a life coach, partially truthful as they were going to advise me on areas to pursue or concerns to address. Of course I'd still recommend that you give someone the address of where you're heading to if it is a private address to be on the safe side even if you have thoroughly done your research on who you're meeting with.

I went into my appointment with an open mind but decided to keep be as vague as possible when asked questions as I wanted the experience to be as authentic as possible. She could sense how anxious I was so we started the session with a 'spiritual cleansing' I was asked to hold onto a crystal and close my eyes as she communicated with the spirit guides, it was an incredibly calming experience and my entire scalp went tingly with vibrations. Once this was done I felt much more relaxed for the remainder of the session as we progress to the reading. I was asked to select 10 or 12 tarot cards which were spread face down across the table, strangely I felt certain ones caught my attention more than others. Without saying a word to her she revealed the cards and would see how certain relationships in my life were good or strained, she described characteristics of my partner to 't', she could see that I didn't have a conventional job but had talents in creative areas, she tapped into my writing a book that could be beneficial to others 'like me' which she followed up with by saying that she thought I had struggles with anxiety and depression as she could see darkness and isolation throughout the cards I was selecting. She somehow knew all of these things and many more without me ever supplying information beyond a nod of the head or a 'yes' here and there. I was in awe. It provided me with reassurance on what I was doing and also indicated that the summer would be difficult for me but that I'd come through it OK. She also predicted some big changes in my relationship which may transpire towards the end of next year. I have no idea what that would be but I'm interested to see if it happens!

Since that session in April I felt a lot better about where I was heading, however I then decided to start coming off my anti-depressants which affected how I felt about everything. I've just come back from having my second session with her and once again have a good outlook on life. She strongly encouraged that I get back to working on my book, return to blogging and maintain my Youtube channel (something which I hadn't told her before). If you are sceptical, know that all she knows about me is my first name and my phone number so we can set up appointments. I'm still astonished by the experience. It's not something that I'd do regularly like acupuncture but I'd definitely consider going to see her if I need advice or guidance in the future.

I felt like I needed reassurance from someone impartial. Praise and assurances that people see big things in my future don't really lift me up, even if I hear it from a friend or family member. I struggle to believe that I can achieve anything, yet seeing a complete stranger and hearing their view gave me the boost I needed at that time. 

 It is important to know that you should never jump the gun on life decisions based only upon what a clairvoyant has told you, readings are for guidance purposes and clients are advised to use their own judgement.

If you have any questions about my experience or would like to know the details of my clairvoyant based in Surrey then please let me know.

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Anti-depressants and Weight Gain

Screen print 'Happy Pills' by Chris James

It's a cracking post title, right? Just what you want when you're feel downtrodden already, you've finally managed to talk things through with a doctor, you've got through the period of adjusting to being on anti-depressants with their lovely side effects and to top it off...weight gain. That's just splendid. Not all of them cause weight gain, in some cases they can cause weight loss due to a decreased appetite. Frankly I'd be game to get on those ones!

I first started taking anti-depressants in September 2013. After hiding my illness for 5 years things had become so bad that I barely had the energy to keep up the facade. My mum woke me up one day and just said that she knew something wasn't right and outright asked if I thought I was depressed. I started crying and could barely stop myself. I knew it was bad and it had slowly been chipping away at the person I was until very little of that fun loving personality remained. That same day I walked into my GP's office and told them everything I'd been trying and failing to say for years. The most I'd managed to say to them before was that I'd been having panic attacks but they didn't prescribe anything or refer me to a counsellor. This time she pushed a box of tissues towards me and said "oh it can be all that bad surely" somehow in that moment I managed to fight my corner, I told her of my self harming and suicidal thoughts, of how I barely lived these days and spent the end of my summer term at uni locked away in my room. Reluctantly she prescribed me my first dose of anti-depressants. Her hesitance was due to me being a temporary patient back in Ipswich as I was then registered with a doctor up in Durham whilst I was at uni and they might have had a different opinion on how my depression should be treated. I was prescribed what is generally prescribed in the first instance providing that you aren't pregnant or experiencing a serious health condition such as heart problems or diabetes. I was initially given a small dose of Sertraline as my score on the multi choice test for depression was pretty high and rated me as having severe major depression with social anxiety.

Unfortunately medications don't work straight away, they can actually cause the depression to worsen over the initial two weeks of taking them and even after they kick in they don't always agree with you. I experienced some pretty bad side effects and the Sertraline didn't seem to be improving my mood, so it was decided that I was be put on Venlafaxine. Bad luck for me as I had a GP that whipped me off Sertraline in a week, not recommended! Usually you will be phased off anti-depressants slowly so you're body can adapt without going into withdrawal. I went straight into withdrawal, was extremely emotional and a danger to myself. If I'd had been in a better state of mind I might have been able to give that GP a well deserved telling off, but I was barely able to speak up loud enough to check into the doctors surgery let alone give the doctor a good telling off.

I've been on Venlafaxine (also known as Effexor) for about four years now. I've experienced some side effects but nothing bad enough to prompt me to change again. Even though I knew my current GP would carefully remove it from my system, I was still scared of having another horrendous experience of withdrawal and a major depressive episode without any anti-depressants in my system. That was until I realised something recently. When I was at uni I kept track of my weight. At the time I was experiencing body dysmorphia, I still do but in different ways now, I believed that I was fat when I was actually around the perfect weight for my frame (just under 9 stone). Flash forward to today and I'm 11st 6lbs. The most commonly used anti-depressants such as Prozac and Zoloft can cause weight gain of at least 10lbs! Nightmare! The cause of this weight gain isn't known for certain, it can be because of an improved mood and the ability to find pleasure in things again such as food. It has also been shown to cause a change in metabolism (making it slower) causing patients to gain weight despite maintaining normal eating habits.

Depression did cause a major change in my diet and activity levels, for the worse. However, since January I have been moving more than I had in the past couple of years, eating significantly better, upping my daily step count and really pushing with the exercise. Imagine my horror when I put a dress on a couple of months ago that was tight when a few months prior it had been loose! I know that weight loss takes time but this was devastating. I checked out the side effects of Venlafaxine and yipeee weight gain is one of them. I discovered forums full of people experiencing the same problem. Enough is enough for me, my anxiety and depression is closely linked to my body image and self confidence. If the thing that's supposed to be helping my mood is causing weight gain and destroying my confidence, it will inevitably reignite the depression. Awesome.

I decided to head to my GP to discuss coming off Venlafaxine. He was incredibly relieved. In the years since I'd been taking it, more and more tests on the drug and those taking it had revealed that it can have major effects on the cardiac system. Anti-depressants often affect more than one nervous system i.e. the brain and something else, in this case it is the heart. With his assistance I've been slowly withdrawing from Venlafaxine since April. It has to be a gradual process as my body has become so used to it's presence after relying upon it for so many years. The body and mind goes into shock as it realises this thing it has clung to for so long is suddenly being taken away from it. My dosage was adjusted every two weeks and with it came a variety of side effects which I've listed below:

• Weeks 1 + 2: alternating days of 225mg and 150 mg, high levels of anxiety, shakes, sweating
• Weeks 3 + 4: 150mg each day, dramatic mood swings, tearful, low mood, upset stomach, fatigue and insomnia 
• Weeks 5 + 6: alternating days of 150mg and 112/5mg, sensation of chickenpox on the skin feeling itchy but no visible cause, hot flushes, nausea, fatigue, sickness, insomnia 
• Weeks 7 + 8: 112.5mg each day, less nausea, appetite returned, loss of concentration, increased sensitivity to sudden noises and movements, very dry mouth
• Weeks 9 + 10: alternating days of 112.5mg and 75mg, very low moods, low self esteem, high anxiety, poor sleep pattern
• Weeks 11 until present day: 75mg every day, very low mood, crying over nothing, very sensitive, tired, headaches, anxious, low self esteem, lack of concentration, lack of enjoyment

I've been taking 75mg each day for a number of weeks now due to difficulties getting a follow up appointment with my GP. When I did get an appointment we discussed remaining at this dosage until I returned from a planned trip abroad as we agreed it could disturb my mood further. The plan is to then alternate with 75mg and 37.5mg, followed by two weeks of taking 37.5mg daily and then being free of anti-depressants for a while. At the beginning of this process if it had been suggested that I'd be taking no medication at all at some point I might have had concern. Whereas I now can see how much of an impact it was having on my body. I also have less nerves about this as the process has been undertaken in a very controlled manner. Once my body has adjusted to being drug free and free of any withdrawal affects we will then introduce a new drug and be able to see if there are any obvious side effects from it. Hopefully I'll be able to find something that helps rather than hinders the recovery process!

 

Stick a Pin In It

Image obtained from Pinterest

For the past year or so I have been trying alternative methods to improve my symptoms of depression and anxiety. I have said in the past that I am an advocate of medication to an extent. The effects medication can have upon a condition like this can be limited, and can often limit a person further due to side effects of medication. I know that some people have experienced GPs that have only offered medication to them as a treatment for depression. The doctors I've seen have always expressed the importance of a combination of medication and talking therapies in cases of severe depression.

I haven't always had the best experience with talking therapies. Who you are treated by can be a bit hit and miss. And that's OK. Try to hold onto hope that there will be a counsellor out there that you will establish a natural rapport with. It can be frustrating when it seems like you are ticking off counsellors fasting than items on your grocery list. If you're able to persevere it will be worth it and if you need a break for a while that's perfectly OK too. Having to retell painful memories over and over again can be exhausting. I certainly found it disheartening and a break was very beneficial to me. 

In the meantime you might consider exploring some alternative treatments or non western medication. I've previously had hypnotherapy but my heart and more importantly my head, wasn't in it. I was sceptical and mostly complying because my family really believed it could work for me. I've since expanded my mind, cast a wider net as such and decided to look into acupuncture. 

After the new year turned into 2016 I decided to look into acupuncture as I'd been plagued with insomnia, stomach problems and my anxiety levels were at an all time high. I'd been reading some mental health memoirs and each one had mentioned an alternative treatment in their treatment plans for depression. One in particular voiced the enormous benefits acupuncture had upon their recovery and overall quality of health. The fantastic thing about it is that you can have treatment for multiple health concerns in one session. I've had treatment for anxiety, depression, insomnia, IBS (irritable bowel syndrome), chronic knee pain, hip pain, shoulder and neck pain caused by large, heavy breasts and on one occasion treatment on my back. 

After having a few stints in hospitals I'd got over my fear of needles! However, even if you aren't a fan of needles don't run for the hills just yet! They are incredibly fine, small needles, all of which are of course sterile and brand new for each procedure and will be disposed of in a medical waste bin upon removal. I very rarely feel them going in. My acupuncture therapist instructs me to breath in deeply and then out, she lines the needles up over the points and as I breath out she pops them in. Sometimes a nerve is hit, occasionally they will feel uncomfortable as she may have tried a particularly difficult point which she says many patients struggle with. You might feel a slight pinch for a brief time but as the treatment goes on I completely forget about them. I often count the needles as she is removing them. I believe my highest count has been around 50! She's said that she's not treated anyone with that many needles before but I do have a number of areas being treated. After the procedure you may feel quite tired, which isn't surprising as the body has in a sense experienced trauma. I certainly don't feel like I have! The experience is incredibly calming and I feel free of anxiety once the session is over. I particularly like when my therapist walks around the treatment table and lightly touches all of the needles once they've been inserted, each light brush leaves my body feeling like it's rising from the treatment bed. I've never fallen asleep but my body relaxes completely and my arms often fall off of their resting place on my chest, on one occasion I've opened my eyes at the end of the hour to find my arm extended off of the table like a wing! 

If you decide to look into this therapy I'd advise you to look at one website in particular which I've linked here. It lists all of the registered practitioners in your area. All of those on the website have to meet certain criteria and need a certain level of qualifications to have their profiles listed on the website, so you can be assured that they are legitimate and fully qualified to perform acupuncture. 

Self Destruction

I was supposed to start this year by going to the Harry Potter Warner Studio tour. We received two gift tickets from my parents last Christmas, as in 2015. Initially our tour was booked in for October as I'd heard that death eaters roam the Diagon Alley set. Unfortunately I got super anxious in the weeks leading up to it. Fortunately the tours can be rebooked up until the evening before in case of sickness etc.

Sometimes I set myself up for setbacks and failure. Whenever we're expecting guests at the house, I either go into hibernation mode with intervals to dash to the kitchen for food in stealth mode OR I throw myself into baking in batch mode, cooking up a storm and generally exhausting myself right up until they're on the doorstep. Neither are ideal. Baking is usually a good coping mechanism for me. However, it's not wise to do so when I do it to the point when I've been on my feet for hours without a break, my body is trembling and I've managed to work through all meals of the day. That right there is setting myself up to fail. Of course I'll be more prone to anxiety and dips in my mood if I haven't eaten, my body is already trembling and I haven't taken a second to breath and prepare myself for a wave of people coming into the house.

When I rebooked the studio tour I set myself up once again. I reschueduled for another early morning Saturday tour. That's red flag number 1. First thing after I wake up, I'm more likely to be convinced that the day ahead will be a diaster and that I am already a failure. Also, Saturdays will be SUPER busy with families that can't go during the week. Combine that with the Halloween season and we have a potential meltdown scenario. I was also going to be driving solo to Watford for the first time so we could stay there the night before to avoid having to get up super early to drive. So that would be a solo drive, a brand new route, Friday evening rush hour traffic and picking up Robbie from a busy train station. Of course all of this produced the same amount of anxiety I felt the first time around. Fortunately we were able to ammend the booking once again. That alone is progress as before I would have eaten the cost of the tickets and purchased new ones just to avoid the high level of anxiety I often feel when I have to make a phone call.


The evening before I was due to post this, I very nearly set myself up for a setback again. Some of you will know that I am a creative person. After burning myself out over the years of art exams I wasn't certain that I'd find that desire to create again. Over the past couple of years I've dabbled with small projects and started creating on my face (!) I've really enjoyed it but there have been times when I will go months between creating anything. Yesterday one of my favourite makeup brands announced the opening of their annual competition, the NYX Face Awards. For years I watched the American competition and hoped that it would happen here too. In the midst of depression I completely missed the first one, nothing was on my radar at that time. Last year I decided to create my entry, I was excited initially but I realised that something wasn't quite right. I wasn't enjoying the process of creating something exciting. It was causing sleepless nights as I attempted to squeeze out some creativity, something original. I ended up working throughout the nights whilst everyone else was soundly asleep. It simply wasn't doing me any good, my health was in decline again as were my spirits as I doubted my skills. I wish that I had been working on developing my skills over the past year, gaining confidence ready for this years competition. Perhaps if I didn't have a mind fogged up by depression I could have figured out when the competition would fall this year. This time last year we were on holiday in Switzerland. I can recall furiously checking and refreshing the Instagram post of my video entry to see how many views and likes I was receiving. Part of me wanted some kind of recognition, a vote of confidence to say that I had some talent worth honing. The other part of me was in sheer bloody panic at the thought of getting through to the first round only to realise I'd exhausted my ideas already. Last night was a restless night as I saw the announcement, submissions for the competition are now being accepted. My mind was a flash of colours and shapes as I closed my eyes ready for sleep. Rest did not come until the early hours of this morning when everyone else was getting up to start their day. I came up with some options for my plan of action. Either I accept this challenge and do my very best BUT risk the progress I've made in the improvements to my lifestyle including exercise, healthy eating at 'normal' times of the day and getting restful nights sleep. OR I watch as others enter, take inspiration from that and attempt to use this year to hone my skills at my pace whilst maintaining the progress in other areas of my life. I think the choice is obvious. The competition will be there next year and perhaps I might be more prepared for it when it does come.

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Challenging Myself

 

The theme of this month has been 'pushing myself'. I had a week more or less alone each day, so I had to be there for Toby (my dog). Now, most dog owners would say 'well yeah, don't we all?' and of course I am but since I've been struggling so much recently I've skimped on the morning walks. Other members of the household enjoy taking him out in the mornings anyway, so in a way I rested on that and became somewhat complacent. I'd go out with him as often as I could in the afternoons, but some days I'd feel horrendous and the last thing I was thinking of was putting my wellies on and going for a long trudge. Alas no more. I will at least walk him once a day, stretch his legs and mine, breathe in some clean fresh air and actually attempt to reach my daily recommended step quota!

I can head off with good intentions, plug one ear into my iPhone and listen to an audio book. That has been my method recently, listening to a good audio book which I reserve only for when I take Toby on a walk. That way I'll get out with him as I should and I'll be jumping at the chance to continue listening to the book. My books of choice are usually something comical or something on depression, quite the contrast eh? Not always, sometimes the two coincide. One minute I can be tearful as I relate to their story so much and the next I can be chuckling at their mishaps as they so often sound like something I too have done. As I said, I go off with good intentions, but that doesn't mean I am calm and collected. Oh no, anxiety is a fickle companion. I can be stumbling along only to hear a rustle, most likely the wind or a squirrel but my mind will say 'someone's following you' my head snaps around to see where the attacker will come from. No one there. My head is still going through the self defence acronym from 'Miss Congeniality' 'SING' Solar-plexus Instep Nose and Groin. Knowing me I'd end up doing it only to apologise frantically as I panic that I might receive a lawsuit despite it being self defence!

Today it wasn't me that was panicking, not me initially anyway. Toby had his defences up as he saw a man that according to him did not belong on the green opposite our driveway. We had to continue walking towards him as that was our walking route. He started barking and howling at him and what appeared to be an industrial hoover that he was dragging to the back of his van. I am incredibly short sighted even with glasses or contact lenses. All I could see was a man in blue work overalls with a prominent thick moustache and a matching thick mop of curly hair. My eyes were seeing a comical Pixar worthy character, not dissimilar to the dad in 'Sunny With a Chance of Meatballs' except his comical bushy eyebrows had migrated to the top of his head. The man chuckled and tutted as we came closer and as I attempted to drag Toby along, he said "don't like me eh? I don't like you much either" I just apologised quickly as I attempted to bribe Toby to walk further along the past at a fast pace. We just about made it a safe distance for him to stop barking, only I stumbled and stepped on one of his paws causing him to squeal and yelp loudly. 'Fantastic', I thought 'now everyone in a close radius thinks that I abuse my dog to stop him barking'. Of course my mind jumped to that assumption. Anxiety you fickle bitch.

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Return of the Blogger

My second blogger birthday seemingly passed me by this year (21st October). I suppose it's fair that I won't be celebrating, I feel that I've neglected the blog and people deserve to know why. I never expected to look forward to baring my soul on the internet, it's entirely the opposite of the safe internet practices we were told about when we were younger. I've only ever done it because I believed and still believe, that my words and experiences can help people. In the past two years I have been told that friends of friends have benefited from me sharing my mental health journey.

The truth is that I've been majorly struggling in recent months. In July I had a breast reduction, something which I have been longing for since I was 16 years old. Since the days of being bullied, I have struggled with low confidence and self esteem, particularly when it comes to my body. I piled on a lot of weight in a short space of time and...poof or rather KAPOW big bazoomas on my chest, all of the cake had fallen through my mouth and directly onto the cake shelf that is my clevage. I was ecstatic that 2016 was going to finally be the year that I'd make the change, that I'd finally have breasts that would be in proportion with the rest of my body. Although the operation was going to massively impact and improve my body confidence, I knew that it wasn't going to resolve all of my problems. I was even prepared for the post-op period of not being able to do much, of being in pain, being unable to have a comfortable night's sleep and being unable to exercise after consistently working out regularly for a few months prior to surgery. I had the slump, a major low period and over a month of insomnia.

We then went off on a holiday of a lifetime in September. Of course I was anxious about navigating through the airport and getting through the long haul flight. Even if I'm being jetted off to paradise I'll still want to launch myself at the emergency exits because I hate being confined and unable to escape. I had a fantastic time when I got there, for the most part anyway. The bright sunlight, the warmth on my skin, being consumed by two books (non-fiction still), swimming amongst fish of all colours and sizes and doing all whilst comfortably wearing a bikini brought me a great deal of joy.

Unfortunately when you check your bags in and hop aboard a plane you can't leave depression behind. There were some days when I resented how bright the sun was, I felt exposed and uncomfortable. I had bad stomach reactions to the drinking water, was often left feeling downbeat due to poor vegetarian options and generally felt anxious at all mealtimes and social occasions. I felt that I ought to be having a great time, that this was the break I needed and that my gratitude should be beaming from my every pore. Yet, I found myself punishing myself almost every evening. Old habits, an old illness broke thorugh the surface. I was purging all of the bad feelings and resentments I had. It wasn't the first time that I've had bullimia and unfortunately it wasn't the last. I've had a terrible relationship with my body, diets and eating disorders since I was 16. I'm hoping that this will be the year when I learn to love the body I have, or at least be a little kiner towards it.

There was a really bad night that I can't even go into right now. Even before all of this I had been considering that I needed to be put on an increased dose of anti-depressants. I'd had multiple breakdowns before and after the holiday and had generally been feeling empty for a long time. It might sound like the basis of depression anyway, but I knew it was getting worse. It was agreed that increasing the meds was the best way to go. However, due to mess ups with my prescription multiple times it was a couple of months before I was consistently on my new doseage. I knew it wasn't the only change I needed. I decided to enforce a schedule for my week: 3 days of working on my book and filming videos and the remainder of the week would be devoted to household chores and attempting to take care of myself. I'm still not sure whether things will work out, whether I'll start to feel happy or even content ever again. Even when I've achieved something like filming and editing two videos or tackling a load of laundry, I fail to feel good about it. People might praise me when I can't do it myself and I come up with an argument for why I don't deserve their praise. I know I can't just win at life without buying a ticket. I have to enter the prize draw, I have to back my own horse and accept the result I get and aim to improve on it or maintain my winning odds.

I'm hopeful that I will return to blogging more often. It might take me a while as I attempt to balance all of the other plates in my life. My plates might not be loaded with immense culinary dishes and I might have signifcantly lighter dishes than others, but to me it's a hardship and I need time to work on my balancing act and feel OK with the way my life is panning out.

I hope you're all well, happy or simply working on keeping your own plates spinning in the air right now.

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Motivation and Small Victories

For a long time I wasn't able to see the progress I was making in my recovery. It required a lot of energy, effort and mental soundness for me to even leave the house. I'd go out to walk my dog in a beautiful wooded area, I was ready to fill my lungs with fresh air to blow through the cobwebs that had accumulated over many months. Despite the seemingly serene picture I've painted for you, I'd feel overwhelmbed by the wind catching the leaves, the creeks of the trees and the dizzying green canopy that threatened to fall down on my head. I'd somehow begin to feel claustrophobic in the most natural, open spaces.

Despite those suffocating moments threatening to jeopardise any progress I was making, I eventually managed to see that I was achieving things. They were small steps, perhaps not monumental victories but they all accumulate towards feeling better. Not long ago I would have been consumed by what seemed like a failed outing and would have trudged upstairs, drawn the curtains and shut myself vements away for hours, sometimes days. Now I can see that I managed the following: I left the house, I may have driven to the National Trust site for the walk, I took my dog on a walk, I walked a fair distance after being static on the sofa for months on end. It's easy for these things to be overlooked. For most people they are seemingly easy actions and sound like a pretty uneventful day. For those with mental illness they can be the biggest achievements you've noticed for a long time.

There was a time when I had a sticker chart to reward actions like having a shower, getting properly dressed or putting on a fresh set of pyjamas. To some that might sound pathetic. Screw those people. I needed that sticker chart in those days, and I still do. Despite being able to achieve solo dog walks, driving somewhere without having planned the trip in every detail the day beforehand or even managing to kickstart my exercise routines, there are still days when I fall down and feel as if I'm a nobody, that my life is meaningless and that I'm a massive nuisance and liability to all those in my life.

I've become a HUGE fan of the 30 day habit cards made by the same people that produce the Happiness Planners. I started off with small goals such as eating breakfast every day, I was pretty bad at feeding myself for a long time! If I jumped to setting myself goals that were too big I could definitely tell, there would be days between me earning a sticker on the chart and that was an easy indicator that I wasn't ready to be pushing myself that hard yet. I've since managed to maintain a regular chart for exercising. 6 months ago I would have struggled to workout once a week. Since March I've been exercising up to 5 times a week, sometimes more, sometimes twice a day! I always make a note of my start date on the habit cards so I can see how quickly I filled up the cards. Upon completion of each habit card I will keep them as a record for me to look back on, a nice reminder to have as your collection grows as you make progress and also a reminder of how much you are capable of achieving if you have another down period. The 30 Day Habit cards are availbale here.  If you are a new customer of the website you can get 10% off your first purchase!

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Fading Fitness

Depression takes over the mind and the body. The invasion begins in the mind, it takes away all of the joy we once felt for life, our favourite hobbies and interests fall down around our feet and we skirt past them. In the days that I felt marginally better I longed for ways to maintain the high. I ate all the wrong things, I'd gorge myself on sugary things to get that sweet hit only to end up feeling terrible about my body image. The low moods made it difficult for me to leave the house let alone exercise on a regular basis.
Since then I've managed to introduce some simple habits in my everyday life such as getting up at the same time each day, taking Toby for a long walk or completing some kind of housework. Ultimately I wanted to feel like I had achieved something at the end of the day. It took me a long time to stop comparing my day to those of others who went out to work in the city each day. The things I do, I do for them and it enables them to come home and feel at ease or so they have a weekend free of housework chores. I've finally started to feel like I have a purpose.

I've been afraid of failure for as long as I can remember, be it exams, losing a friendship or falling of the waggon whilst on a healthy eating kick. Whilst I was at university I attempted to do something to improve my fitness. I started running in the evenings which helped for a while. I could only go when it was really late, in near darkness and when there were very few people around due to my anxiety about other people seeing me. It helped for a while until I started getting excruciatingly painful shin splints.

My pursuit of feeling fit, healthy and a bit lighter has followed my rising and falling moods. Doctors love to remind patients that exercise can help alleviate symptoms of depression. Unfortunately it isn't always that easy, it requires the right conditions. I never felt able to walk into a gym, I was too self conscious and knew that all the effort I should be exerting on the machines would be spent feeling anxious. Instead, I opted for an at home exercise plan. Insomnia and Teleshopping make for fantastic partners, or rather money robbing crooks! I'd be sucked into the paid for adverts displaying some fitness models and some real life examples of people using some fitness equipment or following a DVD and getting great results. I'd be convinced within 15 minutes of the 30 minute segment.

Unfortunately I learnt the hard, and expensive way that you can't jump from not exercising in years to attempting a full on, intense exercise program. I understand that some people are the exception, that they can achieve amazing results through commitment and determination. Sometimes there are those who have other factors working against us. As much as I wanted to feel and look better I struggled to get past the warm up routine for some of the programs I attempted. Slightly disheartening. It left me in a sweaty mess debating whether to sit down in the shower or just collapse onto the bed. The key is to start at a low level, reduce your expectations, save time and heartache by choosing a lighter workout plan. I like DVDs that work through different levels allowing me to progress to a higher intensity when I'm ready. Even if they say you should graduate to the next level after 10 days, only do it if you're body feels ready. I often get anxious about progressing to level 2, I worry that I'll struggle with the new moves and that a slip will send me into a spiral that causes me to stop exercising for a week or more...putting me back to feeling unfit. Panic not, watch the next level over and over until you understand how to do the moves, even take the time to practise them at a slower pace to familiarise yourself with them.

To summarise, my top tips are:

• take your time to feel ready to exercise again
• don't pursue an intensive exercise plan if you haven't worked out in a long time
• as excited as you may be to feel ready to get active again don't set yourself up for a fall by pushing yourself beyond your capabilities
• developing fitness and stamina takes time, you'll soon be breezing through work-out moves that you initially found challenging 
•  move up the levels as and when you feel ready, listen to your body and don't be disheartened if you see others making progress faster than you, you haven't seen their journey to that point, it probably took them a long time too!
• feeling that rush of endorphins after exercising isn't always the norm. Doctors often talk about it as being fantastic for combating depression but I rarely feel the hormonal rush they describe. 
• focus on how you feel after the workout regardless of endorphins! You finished it, WELL DONE! You are a magnificent sweaty beast. You are slowly but surely kicking your depression to the curb. Your body might ache the next day but we all know it's a satisfying feeling. Start up a sticker chart or tick chart for each time you workout, it soon builds up and gives you an extra boost if you feel like you aren't getting anywhere.

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Time To Talk

A counsellor's office is thought to be a safe place, somewhere you can surrender all of the thoughts that have been recycled over and over again in your head. Perhaps those thoughts and feelings can also later be aired in attempts to help others or to let people know that there are others out there just like you, facing similar problems, someone who can empathise. I hope I can be that someone, so I've decided to share my experience of the first time I said it out loud, three words. I have depression.

I hope that it is already apparent that I'm an advocate of talking about mental illness. It matters, many people experience these conditions and yet there are very few conversations being had about it. For those who have recently realised they have such an illness it can take a while to be able to talk about it with others. I was one of those individuals. It took me three years to fully understand what I was suffering with, and to discover the full extent of my condition. I went through a process of wanting to find out everything I could about it, I probably could have written a dissertation with the amount of research I did! There was also a long period of denial, and eventually acceptance. Perhaps my circumstances were unique in some ways, so please do not fret, it doesn't take everyone that long to realise whats going on and to seek help. I wish I could say that realising what I had was the hardest part, but for me saying it out loud was extremely difficult. I wasn't aware of anyone in my life whom had experienced anything like what I was going through. Perhaps that's because others were afraid to speak up too.

I sought the help of a counsellor at my sixth form college, a service which wasn't well advertised and I had to go searching for. I took advantage of being able to communicate through e-mail. Initially I wanted to know what kinds of problems they could help with. Eventually I let go of what I was holding on to, I wrote about everything that had happened and was still happening to me. I continued e-mailing the counsellor for months, sometimes I'd e-mail daily updates because things were so bad and the counsellor wanted to be informed of anything that was occurring in my life good or bad to help them help me. Eventually I scheduled an appointment only to cancel it after a restless night thinking about it or sometimes I'd cancel it the morning of the session. After a while I managed to make the walk towards the door of the counsellor's office, progress, except I'd then continue walking past the door and would be firing off a quick apology e-mail. Unfortunately stigma against mental illnesses was present within the sixth form, I'd even heard such stigma voiced by someone in my friendship group there. The counsellor's office was in such a public, well-used space with students flowing through and meeting people nearby. Eyes were everywhere and I was very conscious of that. Eventually I found a time when the area was quieter so I could quickly dash into the counsellor's office. The door I'd be so afraid of passing through, turned out to lead into a room akin to the size of Harry Potter's cupboard under the stairs at the Dursley's house. An ideal place for a highly strung, anxious, fidgeting individual, not. I really hope they didn't encourage claustrophobics to go see them there.

After all of the months of deterring the one-on-one session I said my piece only to receive many "mmms", "mhmms" and "how does that make you feel?" in exchange for my heavy burden. I left crying and headed into the nearby staff toilets to vomit and come face to face with an initially stern member of staff, I think my appearance made them reconsider scolding me and they scurried off. I washed my face and returned to my friends in the library with the lie that I'd been meeting with a staff member about areas for revision. And so I returned to the facade that all was well and the impression that I was "cheerful Chelsea' remained intact.

I don't mean to deter anyone from seeking the help of a counsellor, talking through problems really does help. The first time will always be the hardest, and unfortunately one counsellor does not fit all. Sometimes people get lucky and the first person they meet with will be a perfect match. Unfortunately some people will give up after trying one counsellor that just didn't quite understand them or didn't provide them with the type of help they were looking for. Frustratingly the wait list for meeting with counsellors on the NHS is long and slow, but making the move to get on a list is positive progress and hopefully it means you are one step closer to beginning your recovery. I was initially put off counsellors after my awful session. I never went back to see that counsellor and it took me a long time to accept the amount of help I needed. Sometimes people can pick themselves up on their own and carry on with life. Others struggle a bit more and need to raise their hand and say "I'm stuck here, I could use some help". Ask for help and usually it is given, I certainly like to think there are more good people in this world than bad, and since I started writing this blog I've found those people all over the place. So give it go, take a deep breath and let all of it out.