My life; I wouldn't change

My turn for the worst has been a rather long and tiresome journey. Although I am 17 now, I have suffered with all variations of depression, from severe to suicidal to even a minimal amount. I will start from the beginning and in order. 

The earliest I can remember of any signs of myself with depression was 13 years ago. I was greatly fond of my uncle, I was closer to him than my own parents. He decided to get into a relationship with my closest friends mother, to which he stopped visiting me. Remember, I was only about 4 years old when this happened and for me, that was a big deal. He bought me all the things little kids would adore, and all was gone overnight. Being so young I had no clue of other things happening at the same time; those of which I understand now. 

Later on in life, I started losing contact with many of my family members; aunties/uncles and so on. Now, I only have contact with my mother and father, I have also lost my siblings. I love my parents only because I will only ever have one mother and one father; I don't agree with everything they have done. Granted, they both have done everything they can to make me happy and to protect me. My father has suffered with bad drinking habits for over 20 years and some minor depression. My mother has suffered with severe depression, anxiety and a minor case of schizophrenia. My mother ended my parents nearly 26 year long relationship because she had found another man. What she didn't realise was how much it would affect me.

 Not long after this had happened, my longest relationship fell through and under so much stress and pressure from everything; I took an overdose. The amount I took didn't affect me luckily. My dad's own business fell through about a month before meaning there wasn't much money for any of us and my mother doesn't work. 

I was teased throughout my school years. I was teased and bullied for 8 years straight and it started when I was in year 4, I'm not sure what that would be for anyone not in the UK. Due to my uncle suddenly leaving, I gained some sort of depression which caused me to gain weight. To this day I'm still trying to like who I am. I was teased about my weight until I went to secondary school (high school). When I then started there, people bullied me. They threw things at me verbally insulted me and even poured liquids on me. To this day I still believe what they said. For anyone who is interested, although embarrassing, people commented on my hygiene. Saying I smelt of this that and the other. The real fact was, I have 7 cats, 3 dogs and a parrot, which would amount to a strange smell of animals. The worst part was, not only was I bullied and teased by students; but also staff. They called me into offices and told me I should go and have a wash but there was not a day I went in with greasy hair or a smudge of dirt on my body. I still don't know if what they said is true or why they even did it. I was reduced to tears many times in that place, it has affected me that much that sometimes I'm scared to go out in case I see one of the former bullies or even the staff. At the time of bullying, I was so scared if someone had to sit near me, I was scared if the teacher had to mark my work; I used to move away in my chair as much as I could. I reported a few times but it only got worse and nothing was really done, so I gave up in the end. I can honestly say, I didn't even get a true friend out of that school. My college life has been decent compared to my school, which I am glad about. Now I am on two anti depressants a day in the morning to try and help me feel better. I'm not sure if they're worth it. I don't know if it is the anti depressants making me feel better or if it is things in my life getting better.

It hasn't helped me with my dad's constant drinking all my life, seeing how bad he would get and how it pushed the family apart didn't help me at all. My moms past hasn't helped at all, she now hears voices of a man she was once with, saying everything is her own fault. Trying to help her handle her constant breakdowns had emotionally drained me. 

Overall, most of the ways it has affected me are obviously negative such as depression and anxiety. However there is positives too, all of these things which have happened has given me experience in life. For example, if I never got bullied and teased, I would either have turned out to be a girl who thinks she is better than everyone else or I would have been a bully. If I never took an overdose then I wouldn't have got the help I needed and now I can say I can help others in that situation. Everything that has happened in my life has made me who and what I am now. Probably sounds cliche as you hear it all the time, right? But without all those negatives, would I really have found a better positive from it? You have to have been in that situation before to actually help someone and to say you feel sorry for them. 

Yes, it's been a rough and tiresome journey but I wouldn't change my past now. It has made me a wiser, better young adult. There will always be positives and negatives in every situation but take a moment to think. There's more positives than negatives. 

It has been rewarding to say the least. 

-Katie 

Caring – always there, always responsible – often ignored

I make no excuses for telling the “other side of the story” about caring for a loved one with an eating disorder in this post – it is tough, it is relentless, it is frustrating.....

A couple of years ago my daughter was going through an even more difficult time than normal.  She had come back home from university, was struggling to find her “niche” with work – for that read jobless, having to live with Mum and Step-Dad (horrors of horrors) and to top it all her brother was also at home and had just started a great new job.  From her point of view – it “sucked”.  Hardly surprising then that the anorexia took even more of a hold – for some anorexics (and I also speak from my own personal experience here) – anorexia can be about control; when your life feels out of the control from how you would like it to be, one of the things that you can take control of is your food intake.  It feels empowering...

Things were tough at home.  My daughter was very ill – of course, she was completely oblivious to this! We were all concerned.  Around this time we started family therapy at our local eating disorder unit – about 45 minutes drive away.  My daughter only attended a couple of times – she didn't see the need – after all there was nothing wrong with her.  My husband nobly used up loads of holiday taking regular half days off work, my son juggled his work getting up early to work before the appointments, taking laptop in the car to work en route, staying late to work to make up for lost time etc.  As a family we were showing to my daughter’s team that we cared, we were there for her and we were coming to family therapy to help her – whether or not she came too.  Surely that was a clear message to her team that we were involved?  That we cared?

I was due to have a hysterectomy around this time – I was very worried about my daughter – but my son and husband insisted that I went through with it – I had already postponed it from a few months earlier due to being worried about my daughter.  The organisation that went on!  Plans to make sure that she stayed in contact with my son and husband during the day whilst they were at work, plans for them to meet her for lunch, coffee during the day to ensure that some kind of food went inside her, what to cook for her in the evening.  The night before the op I was up until the early hours of the morning writing to various members of her team in a desperate attempt to get my voice heard as to how ill she was and how hard it was at home.  On the way to the hospital letters were pushed through doors – well – it took my mind off the op!  The whole time I was in hospital I was worried about her: had she gone to the gym, had she collapsed in the street... my mobile was on permanently just in case someone needed me. You don't relinquish caring responsibilities simply because you are ill yourself - it doesn't work that way. It wasn't exactly a relaxing convalescence. 

At the time my daughter was being seen by the GP she also had an appointment scheduled as an outpatient at the eating disorder unit.  This was just a day after I came out of hospital.  My husband took her and not once and I mean not once was he asked how he felt she was doing or how we were coping as a family.  He was merely the taxi driver. He was ignored.

Clearly she wasn't well as just after this and within a 10 day period we had three sectioning teams turn up on the doorstep.  The last team did actually speak to me (Hooray!) whilst my daughter was upstairs and listened, albeit briefly, to my concerns.  My daughter knew the system – a sectioning team in our lounge was becoming almost commonplace to her – she knew what answers they were looking for, she appeared calm and with an insight into her illness.  It is so difficult as a carer to get the message across to a medical team that of course she will tell them what they want to hear for her not to be sectioned – she is practised at it, she is anorexic – she will lie, she will be deceitful.  This time though the team (I think they were getting fed-up of coming to our house!) wanted her to go into the eating disorder unit – she wasn't having it and it got to the stage where her “rights” were read out under the Mental Health Act before she caved in and said she would go voluntarily – knowing full well that if she did this she could discharge herself.  One of the people on the team was great – she stayed here whilst my daughter spent hours packing, escorted her to the unit with us following and waited until with her until she was admitted.  By now it was late at night and we were all exhausted.  My daughter hadn't eaten all day and despite being an EDU it was out of normal eating hours and difficult to get her anything at all to eat!  There we were - still caring for her despite her being in an inpatient unit!

You might think that our caring responsibility then ended – no, that’s not how it works!  Yes – we were relieved that she was being looked after, that her bloods were being checked, that someone would be keeping an eye on her, that she wouldn't be going to the gym, that she would actually eat.  That was the good bit...  Then there were the numerous texts... “you have to get me out of here”, “being in a unit doesn’t work for me”, “to get better I need to have a ‘life’ not be in here”, “if you love me you will get me out of here”, “I will do better now”, “this has been a shock, I understand I am ill now”.  It sounds harsh – but she had been in an EDU before and despite the “it’s different this time” we all knew that as soon as she came out she would go back to her previous (and by now very dangerous) anorexic ways.  Shopping lists were texted every day – I was still recovering from the hysterectomy and couldn't drive so every day I would walk to the shops to get the new items on the list, every evening my husband and I would go over to the unit for a visit.  There we were met by a positively charming person, my daughter, the same daughter who had been so difficult, so rude, so hard to live with – it was all a charm offensive to get us on her side.  The visits were not easy – we knew she was trying to pull the wool over our eyes.  We also knew that she would be a model in-patient – eating everything that would be put in front of her without a fuss, saying what changes she would make in her life etc.  We had been there before.  I should perhaps add at this point that this was a different in-patient unit to the one she had been three times to before.  I phoned up the in-patient unit and left numerous messages asking them to contact me so that I could say it really was at home and to give them some information.  I was never contacted. 

My daughter produced a brilliantly written plan – she’s no fool – of how she now had insight into her illness, the plans she was making to ensure that she had support at home, (seeing a nutritionist, going to therapy, regular meal times, foods that would no longer be on the forbidden list, engaging with the community mental health team).  We, as a family, knew that this was absolute rubbish – we’d seen it all before .... 

Six days after she was admitted – yes, just six days...  during which we were still caring, going backwards and forwards with items she needed, visiting, trying to get listened to...   we had a family therapy meeting.  Myself, my husband and son all went to it (having made suitable arrangements with work), despite being in the building next door my daughter didn’t attend.  During the session we all picked up on the fact that it seemed to be that she might be discharged that afternoon.  Six days after a third visit from a sectioning team..??!!!  My son is laid back – so much so that as the saying goes – he’s almost horizontal, he’s chilled, he’s calm – well not this day.  I have never seen him so angry – there’s a fence just outside this building and I am surprised it is still standing – I thought he was going to knock it down with his bare hands.  Leaving out the expletives – of which there were many – he said that he couldn't understand how professionals in eating disorders could be so taken in by the words of an anorexic, that they shouldn’t be in their jobs, that they were worse than useless, that they hadn't even consulted with us..  We all agreed – what were they thinking of...

As soon as we got home I phoned up the in-patient unit – it was extremely difficult to get any information out of them.  This still is beyond my comprehension...  they were hiding behind “patient confidentiality”...  yet again!  It had been agreed that she could come home that day by the team looking after her. Had we been told about this? No.  Had we as carers been asked how we would cope? No.  Had we been asked how things were at home?  No.  Had we been asked how she coped after her previous admissions to another in-patient unit?  No. What was also frightening was that they intended to let her walk – with suitcases and bags – to the nearest station – over half an hour walk away  - in February.  A seriously underweight person with a lot of luggage – what were they thinking of!  I told them to please hold onto her until my husband could get there from work – I still couldn't drive.  They reluctantly said they would do this.  We only realised she was coming out because we had had a therapy session that morning and picked up on it there even though it wasn't explicitly expressed.  Family and carers are assumed to be there to “pick up the pieces” no matter what.

So there we were – having had six days of stressful texts, visits, trying to keep care in place – back to where we were before.  The 24 hour caring responsibility of a very ill person was firmly placed back with us – no consultation with us, no phone call, no offer of support and despite showing that we were clearly involved  – NOTHING.

The caring responsibility never ends...  

So - what is such a miserable, depressing and negative post doing on such a lovely positive site about recovery - doesn't quite fit does it?

I want things to change, I want medics to be aware of the reality of the situation, I want them to understand that they can listen to family and carers, I want people like my daughter who are in an environment where they could get help to get that help, I want to see that when there is a glimmer of light that someone wants to recover this opportunity is grabbed with both hands by the medics - I want to see more people on the road to recovery! I want to turn our negative experience into a positive one for others. So medics out there - please - we want positive stories not depressing ones like ours - let's change things for the better.

Ann

Sectioned..... or not

Sectioned... or not...

I have recently been lucky enough to be asked to be involved in helping to plan a “Family and Carers Listening Event” which reminded me just how important it is for medical professionals to listen to carers. This is something that sadly simply does not happen enough.

My daughter was on a waiting list (18 months!) to be seen as a “non-urgent” out-patient at our local eating disorders unit. Whilst waiting she had occasional appointments with the community mental health team. I always went with her to appointments so my face was known by the team.

A new psychiatrist saw my daughter and was so concerned (hooray – at last!) by how unwell she was that he organised a Mental Health Act (sectioning) team to turn up unannounced at our home. Fortunately both I and my daughter were in – does raise the question as to what to they do if you are not – sit on the doorstep and wait??

The team walked into our home – I do recall being introduced to the three members at all – merely the fact that they wanted to see my daughter. Considering they were “invading” our home unannounced and uninvited I found their attitude at worst offensive and at best sheer bad manners. Despite having attended all appointments with my daughter I was told (quite rudely) that I was not to be present in the same room whilst they talked to my daughter and that if I didn’t comply then my daughter would be removed, (forcibly if necessary) from our home. My husband (her step-Dad) and son soon returned home to offer support. We ended up sitting on the stairs (the layout of our house is such that it might have be construed intruding on the proceedings if we even went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea). It felt incredibly bizarre, surreal – it is so difficult to put into words – that a team of mental health professionals were talking to my daughter and had been sent round as it felt that she was unstable enough to not understand the danger she was in and yet her own family were being excluded. Anorexics are known to lie – to be deceitful, to be manipulative in order to “protect” the anorexia – and yet despite this we were not consulted. This was a few years ago and I still struggle to make sense of this.

My daughter wasn’t sectioned and promptly we were left to deal with her care – with no consultation with us by the team as to how we were coping or to find out the reality of the situation. Basically – back to you family. Did I want my precious daughter to be sectioned – No, of course not – and yet we (me, husband and son) couldn’t help feeling disappointed and let down. We desperately – and I mean desperately – wanted and needed some help and yet again we weren’t going to get any – it was back to us caring, cajoling, worrying again.

The next day my daughter had an appointment with the Community Mental Health Team – as always I went along. I have been anorexic – I know the tricks – I know about hiding weights in your clothing, I know about lying about what has and hasn’t been eaten, I know about extra layers of clothing, heavy jewellery, drinking pints of water to falsify weight etc. I knew my daughter was using some (maybe all) of these “tricks” – she had at the very least been drinking a lot. I wanted to simply pass this information onto to the team so that they could assess her properly. I know about patient confidentiality – I know that I cannot be told things about my daughter that she does not wish me to know – I also know that, as a carer, I have a right to be listened to. I was denied this. I was told that due to patient confidentiality the team would not speak to me. I was so angry I had to leave the building, I am not one for violence but I really did not trust myself not to hit anyone or to “trash” the waiting area. I could not and still do not understand how less than 24 hours earlier my daughter had been deemed ill enough to warrant a Mental Health Act team on the doorstep but for me, her mother, not to be spoken to – to find out how things really were.

My daughter was “assessed” at her appointment and deemed to be ok – she wasn’t... and we ended up going through the same process again and again....

All they needed to was to LISTEN to her family who only wanted to help her.....

Ann

My daughter, anorexia and I - with a bit of other stuff

Perks of Recovery very kindly asked if I would like to write a guest blog – a blog – there are times when I think I could write a whole book! So hopefully this will be a series of blogs that are a manageable and readable size rather than one very long one that sends people to sleep.

Next problem – was where to start? .... eating disorders have been part of my life for as long as I can remember – my mother had a few problems, I am a “recovered” anorexic, other members of the family have had problems... do I start at the beginning wherever that might be or dive in and out. The latter feels right to me – blogging about things that come to mind and perhaps when (if!) I have finished the whole jumble will sort of fall into place.

I have two grown up children and they both mean the world to me. Carrying them around whilst pregnant – loving them from the moment that I realised they were there to the overwhelming love when they were born to the love felt watching them grow and become more independent but still being an integral part of my life.

My daughter developed anorexia when she was 17 – over seven years ago. I will go into the trials of getting help for her another time but right now what I find so very difficult is being estranged from her. My heart is broken.....

Last October I was diagnosed with breast cancer for the second time. My prognosis is excellent but I have had to go through 4 ops and chemotherapy. My daughter didn’t cope with it the first time around so I feared that it might be even harder this time around particularly as the anorexia has such a very strong hold on her. This time the cancer needed a bit more “effort” to get rid of – initial op didn’t work and subsequent tests results showed that it was to be a bit more involved than the first time. My third op was a bilateral mastectomy. My daughter doesn’t like hospitals so I didn’t expect a visit... she didn’t even ask my husband (her step-Dad) how I was when he came home from visiting me. It was all far too much for her deal with when her mind was so busy trying to keep the anorexia happy.

Two days after I came out of hospital from my mastectomy she was out for the evening and came home around 1 a.m. slurring her speech. She has been hypoglycaemic (dangerously low blood sugar levels) before and we have had a sectioning team here, another time, after phoning NHS Direct we were phoned regularly by A & E to see how she was doing – they were so busy they felt we could monitor her better! So – was she drunk? – was she hypoglycaemic? I did what I know is completely the wrong thing to do... I knocked (ok maybe banged!) on her bedroom door to ask if she had eaten. What was I thinking of??!!! Cutting a long story short a shouting match followed – I went to the bathroom in tears and she followed lecturing me about how well she was doing, how I tried to control her. My husband got involved in the shouting – he more than anyone knows how upset and stressed I get about my daughter. Next thing was she stormed out of the house with just her handbag leaving me, I’m embarrassed to say, fairly hysterical. I pleaded with my husband to follow her but he wouldn’t – I was still recovering from major surgery and had drains hanging out of me. I was in a state and he was fearful. I was scared that her blood sugar was so low that she could collapse somewhere so I phoned the police. They were great – promptly started looking for her and also came to our home to get more details. I was even more worried because she had left her mobile phone here – she never goes anywhere without it. After what seemed like an interminable time she phoned from wherever she was – she wouldn't speak to me – but spoke to the police and said that she was safe. They went to check this out – taking her phone for her! Must get priorities right! An hour or so later – by now it was well after 3 a.m. – they phoned to say that they had seen her and she was safe.

Since then (six months) we have had virtually no contact – to say that it has been hard doesn't even touch on it. She collected her post a couple of times but was unable to look me in the eye let alone have anything resembling a conversation. She got back in touch with her Dad (my ex) and has been leaning on him for support – bit ironic really – but that’s another story.

I know that she simply couldn't cope with my cancer and her anorexia. Friends and family think that she is being selfish leaving here at a time when I could have done with a bit of support and certainly less stress – not more – but it’s not her being selfish – it’s the anorexia. She doesn't and can’t comprehend what not only her leaving here but also the lack of contact has done to me. Maybe it’s as well that way. I bear her no ill will – I really don’t - I understand the problem. I just miss her so very much – and of course worry... Whilst she was living here our GPs were great and kept a good eye on her. She is no longer in the area. According to her Dad she is living in London – I don’t even have an address for her. She has “unfriended” me on Facebook even though she knows that would hurt me. She has isolated herself from us.

Her things are pretty much left as if she has just popped out for the afternoon – her shoes on the rack in the hall, her coats in the cupboard, her cookery books on the kitchen shelf, her bedroom a typical young person’s “tip”. I thought she would be back home in a few days – I’m still waiting.

I don’t miss the hours in the evening spent watching her cut her food up into the tiniest bits – having already spent an hour with it sitting on her lap getting cold and then taking at least 3 hours to eat it. It sounds such a little thing – but believe me watching that night after night you just want to scream “for goodness sake just eat it in a normal time”. I don’t miss the having to leave the kitchen whilst she dished out her dinner carefully filling her plate with salad to try to hide the small amount of meat/carbs she had, then using the same salad to cover up what she hadn’t eaten. I don’t miss trying not to look as if I am watching what she is eating. I don’t miss making sure we always have “safe” foods for dinner – no pasta for example. I don’t miss turning down meals out so that we always ate with her at home. I don’t miss the stress of lengthy trips to the supermarket watching her read labels on food intently before it is placed (or not) in the trolley.

I don’t miss listening to the lies that she used to tell to cover for the anorexia, I don’t miss her going out to the door to the gym saying she would just go on a couple of machines and wouldn’t be long and then returning home hours later clearly having spent all her time there. I don’t miss the fear of a phone call from the gym saying that she has collapsed. I don’t miss hearing the sound of ambulance nearby and wondering if it is for her.

Do I miss any of these things? – NO. Do I miss living with anorexia? – NO. Do I miss my daughter – of course I do. I would willingly go back to living with all those things just to have some contact with her.

I see reminders of her all the time - I see the lovely meerkat sitting on the kitchen windowsill that she gave me, the little terracotta pot that she painted “Mummy” on when in kindergarten, I see her things lying around the house...

I miss the girlie chats, the coffees, the gossip, the shopping trips, the wardrobe advice, the delicious meals she cooked that I would never have dreamt of trying, her thoughtfulness......

I don’t miss the anorexia – I do miss my daughter....


Ann

Guest post - by Dr Caroline Hough

Greetings

I am delighted to have been invited to guest blog on this site.  Many thanks to Matthew McKenzie for the introduction help and support and to Louise and  Alyssa  for their support and encouragement.  Being so proactive in promoting recovery and the role model they offer is a real inspiration. This is my first blog – so it is all new to me as I move out of my comfort zone. I hope you enjoy this and find something here helpful. 

My intention in this first blog to share something about myself and my story: to set the scene for more detail in the future.   Most importantly I am a mother and grandmother. I won’t write a longer list but want to mention what I hope is relevant for this blog.   

I am a medical doctor with wide experience including being a former GP.  This makes me a healthcare professional: an expert by training.  I have also suffered with a mental health problem for over 10 years. I have been in hospital 4 times, have taken a variety of medications and have been treated by doctors, psychologists and others both individually and in groups so I consider that I am also an expert by experience.   

Many people have given time and put effort into helping me and trying to make me better and I know every one of them had the best intention just as I did when I practiced as a doctor.  My intention was always to help and make someone better and I still believe that is the reason most people go into healthcare. 

Looking back now with the benefit of my experience I can see that what I though was helpful may not have been.  I was seeing things as a doctor - from the view I was trained to have -and not from the perspective of the patient.   What I now understand is that the doctor may know about the medical condition but the only person who really knows the patient - the expert in the patient - is the patient.  Everyone has the same intention - to improve the situation for the patient and probably the most effective the way to do that is to work together.  

I am thankful and feel blessed that I have now recovered.  What I feel helped me in my recover y was understanding and accepting where I was and then taking appropriate responsibility for myself.  I care deeply about mental health and those suffering but   I am passionate about promoting wellness.

Using my own experience I have developed a program: Aspiring 2 Wellness which is a unique blend of mindfulness and coaching.  Having a role in the Mental Health Foundation Trust near where I live for the last 4 years has significantly contributed to my recovery.  I  have been  involved  both as  a “service user”  and as a  service user representative  both on the “ground” working with my peers  and as an elected  governor  of the Foundation Trust representing  the Trust members.   I have aspired to communicate the views of those I was representing and to facilitate an understanding of different perspectives with the hope that those delivering services will start to appreciate the importance of a recovery orientated approach and that life will get better for each of us. 

In this blog I aspire to share some experiences and stories both my own and those I have seen and heard from others.  The views are my own and are shared with good intention.   Thank you for reading this I hope we will come together in another blog soon and until them I wish you peace and joy. 

You're the most important person in your life

First off I want to say that I'm really sorry I haven't posted in quite a while. The thing is, I've needed to take some time to focus on myself a bit more. I've not been very steady lately; I've been going through something of a rough patch, and so I haven't felt able to post to this blog, or do a lot of things actually. 

And that's okay sometimes! The fact of the matter is that you are the most important person in your own life, and that means that you need to look after yourself. So if you need to take some time to get away from things and focus on you, then there's no need to be ashamed of that fact. You can't be the best version of yourself if you're constantly absorbed in the outside and don't take any time to practice self-care. 

So this post is just to say - remember to look after number one. It doesn't make you selfish; I know you care about other people, and you want to be there for them, and they know that too! It makes you human. You need time, and care, and the most important thing is your health and well-being. 

Look after yourselves. 

-E xo

The side of OCD that people don't see - Part 1

"You're so OCD!"

"That's such an OCD thing to do"

"Oh I have OCD when it comes to my pens, they have to be colour coded"

These and similar statements are things I'm sure you've heard quite often, and that you've probably said yourself. The problem here is that they are often said by or about people who do not have OCD, and this creates a problem by which it is made to seem less important and complex than it really is. This, in turn, means that genuine sufferers are downplayed, and people are highly misinformed on what these sufferers are going through, leading to a sense of isolation and insignificance. 

OCD is a condition that should not be trivialized by these casual comments. It is a serious problem that takes over people's entire lives, which is why it is not okay to talk about "how OCD you are" because you like to be organized. 

THE MAIN PART OF THE POST: 

The media representation of OCD (and therefore other people's impressions of it) are based around the "C" - the compulsions. However, there is a darker side to OCD that people don't often get to see. It is hidden away and skirted around, because being neat and tidy is much easier to swallow than this part. This needs to stop, because people need to know about it so that they can realize that they are not alone. 

I'm talking about the obsessional thoughts. These are repetitive, unwanted thoughts, images or impulses that a person finds unacceptable, awful, horrible, repugnant. They are incredibly distressing and mentally exhausting, and can be debilitating. 

The most important thing to note about these thoughts is that they are ego dystonic. This means that they are contrary to the person's view of themselves - they do not want to think or see the things invading their minds, loathe the thought of carrying out their impulses. 

The obsessive thoughts can concern a range of different things, from abusing others to blaspheming to pedophilia. These are awful, disturbing things, and it is vital to know that the person experiencing the thoughts does not want to carry them out. That is the key difference between OCD and certain other disorders involving such thoughts. 

The best way of describing these thoughts is essentially as worries, or at least causes of worries. The person is worried that they will carry them out. 

The reality is that they won't! If you're experiencing these obsessive thoughts, I want you to know that you are not alone. Having these thoughts does not make you a bad person. They're only thoughts, nothing more, and they definitely don't mean that you're going to act on them. 

It has taken me years - long, terrifying years alone with these thoughts - to finally come out and tell my therapist about them. I was so terrified of judgment, because I didn't know that other people thought things like this. I was so scared of hurting people, of doing things, things I never actually wanted to do, things that paralyzed me in fear and disgust. And yet, finally, I told her - and she understood. She immediately recognized what I was going through as obsessive thoughts. She did not judge me. She still cared about me. She still wanted to help me as best she could, and she is continuing to do so. So just know that as long as you go to the right people, they can help you to understand what you're going through, and finally start to help you to get your life back from the thoughts that take over your mind. 

In the second part of this post, I'm going to move on to talk about compulsions and neutralization actions, so stay tuned, and most importantly stay strong. 

"Attention Seeking"

This post is simultaneously a rant and an affirmation to those of you who have been called an "attention seeker" that seeking attention does not make you a bad person. 

All too often, I've heard people telling others "you're just an attention seeker, get over it" and similar things, and I am so done with it. There are a few reasons why this is basically bullcrap: 

• Seeking attention is natural. It's not something to be ashamed of, and people need to stop treating it as if it's a crime. Literally everyone seeks attention - it's nice to be noticed, and listened to, and given affection, and whatever else you're after. 
• It is a brave thing to ask for help. If the attention you're seeking is for something you're upset about, then it's brilliant and amazing that you have the courage to do so, and no-one has the right to tell you that you can't, that it's annoying, or anything else. Please, never let the fear of looking like an "attention seeker" put you off. If you need help, you deserve it, and that's that. 
• No-one has the right to invalidate your emotions. You don't owe pretending to be happy to anyone. Whatever you're feeling is personal to you, and is real - you don't have to hide it, and people shouldn't make you feel bad for sharing it. The same goes for coping mechanisms. A lot of the time, self-harmers are accused of doing it for attention, when this is rarely the case, and when it is for attention it is a cry for much-needed and much-deserved help. Don't let anyone tell you the way you're feeling is wrong. There is no right and wrong when it comes to this; only negative and positive, and if something is harmful to you then you need help to stop it, not criticism and scolding. 

Make sure you remember these things if ever you feel (or someone else makes you feel) ashamed for seeking attention. It's natural, and can be a very good thing if you're asking for help. Spread the message where you can, and let's seek attention together! 

-E xo

Crying

Depression and other mental illnesses can affect people in a variety of ways. Some people may feel numb and completely unable to cry, as much as they may need to, whereas others might well up and burst into tears all of the time. There is no "right" or "wrong" way to feel; only different ways to feel, and different ways to deal with these feelings. 

Crying is a very important function when you are feeling low, for a number of reasons which I'll list below. 

• The most basic reason of all - it can be very therapeutic to let your emotions out in such a physical manner. Crying almost validates how you feel in a way, (not that your feelings are invalid if you don't cry, at all), and it can feel as though you are letting the sadness, frustration or whatever else you feel out, like opening the flood gates and letting it wash away. These feelings need to be felt, so let yourself feel them. 
• Tears are antibacterial. They'll fight off the germs you pick up in day-to-day life, and hey, if you want clearer skin you can rub them all over your face! 
• Your body releases toxins in your tears when you cry due to emotions. You're ridding your body of loads of those nasty by-products, which can leave you feeling much better, refreshed, afterwards. 
• Stopping yourself from crying increases levels of stress and other negative emotions, and also increases risk of diseases resulting from high stress levels such as high blood pressure and ulcers. Don't worry yourself about this if you've been restraining yourself from crying; just allow yourself to in future, and remind yourself that it's doing your body good. It's not a sign of weakness - if anything it's a sign of strength. It can be so hard to let yourself cry. 

A lot of people feel ashamed or embarrassed to cry in front of others, myself included. However, it is nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed of, at all. You are not showing weakness to them if you cry. You are showing that you have emotions that need to be let out. Displaying them in front of people is brave, and can help a lot because there is someone there to tell you that it's okay, that your feelings are normal and that you have every right to feel them, but also every right to get better. 

If you feel like you need to cry but can't, there are a few ways that can help to get the tears out! 

• Listen to the saddest songs you know. They can be ones that you relate to, or not! It's really up to you, and everyone reacts differently to different things. Find what makes you really feel sad, what gets you into the emotion it's trying to portray, and let those emotions out yourself. 
• Watch movies with sad parts, or sad episodes of shows you like. If these are well done, you'll be really caught up in the emotions of the characters and will empathize with them, crying for them or along with them. (If you don't feel empathy very easily, or at all, that's okay too; it's just a different matter. It doesn't make you a bad person in the slightest). 
• Find a close friend who you trust, and sit somewhere quiet with them, where you feel safe. (Let them know that you're doing this because you need to cry). Just talk through your thoughts - it doesn't have to make sense! - or think them through and sit in silence; whatever you're most comfortable with. Having someone there can help you to feel protected, and so letting your feelings take over for a while is less scary. 
• You can also do the above alone if that's what you're more comfortable with. 

Finally, here are some things to remember for when you cry, if at all possible! 

• Keep comfort items nearby such as blankets, teddy bears and pillows, and hold them when you need to. They can also help to ground yourself in the moment so you don't get carried away by your thoughts. 
• Make sure you have water nearby, and tissues too. You don't want to get dehydrated by the loss of water in your tears, and it can be uncomfortable to sit with them streaming down your face and a nose full of snot. 
• To avoid irritating your eyes by rubbing them, you can put a cold water bottle under them to reduce swelling and ease pain if they begin to hurt. 

Good luck with releasing your emotions! 

-E xo

Talking

I'm sure all of you know it can be incredibly difficult opening up to people about how you're feeling, and what's going on inside your head. 

Telling someone in the first place takes a lot of time and courage, but first off, no matter how weak you might feel, I want you to know that you are brave, and so much stronger than you realize. You're brave for coming as far as you have already, for still being here, and you can go that step further. 

There is nothing shameful about asking for help. There's a lot of stigma around mental illness, but there shouldn't be, and together we can work to end that. In the meantime, there is still no reason to be ashamed of needing support, so try not to be afraid to ask for it. There are so many people around you who want to help - you just have to let them know that you need it. 

**Feel free to skip this part, this is just some stuff about my experiences!** 

For me, I only told people when I reached breaking point. I know that really I left it later than I should have, but the important thing is that I was given the help I needed. First of all I spoke to my favourite teacher at school. 

The thing I was most scared of was my mom finding out. Fortunately at my school it is not in their policy that parents have to be notified about the kind of thing I went to them about, but that isn't the case for all schools. The teacher just had to notify my head of year, who called in a nurse to assess me. (She didn't come for a month or so though, and by that time I had already looked for help elsewhere). 

I knew my mom was going to have to find out at some point, so I finally resolved that it would be better for me to tell her myself than for her to find out from someone else. I asked her not to get angry or too upset, and she reacted much better than I had ever hoped. It hasn't always been easy with her since she's known, but I'm lucky to have her understanding overall. 

She took me to the doctors, where I was referred to CAMHS urgently because of the nature of my situation. There, I had my initial assessment where I was asked about what I spoke about at the doctors, but in more detail to see if they could help. I was then given further appointments at CAMHS with a psychiatrist and a therapist, both of whom I still see. 

That was a year and a half ago, and while I've moved on from where I was, I've only recently properly started to open up. 

**Okay I'll shut up about myself now**

A year and a half of therapy, and I've barely started! I know, it sounds ridiculous. But I'm sure a lot of people can relate, because like I said, it's hard opening up to people and telling them what's going on inside your head. 

It's hard, but it's worth it, and you've got to find what works best for you. 

Some people can just go in and talk; the words just come tumbling out for them. Others come to speak and suddenly no noise will come out even though the words are in their heads. People might go in knowing there are things they want to say, but completely forget them when it comes to actually talking. Or there are people who are just scared of saying what's wrong, be it for fear of judgment or anything else. 

It's completely fine and natural to feel any of these things, and more. It's just that you need to find a way of expressing yourself, getting what you need to talk about out in the open, because keeping it locked away inside is unhealthy - it's like a poison, constantly eating away at you. 

I'm going to make a list of things I've tried, and that I've heard about, and hopefully some of them might work for you: 

• Write it down. This might seem obvious, but for a lot of people it works. If you get into the office and your mind goes blank, you've got what you need to say written down in front of you. You can give it to your therapist / psychologist / psychiatrist / whoever to read, or you can read it out yourself - whatever you're more comfortable with.
  Of course, this doesn't work for everyone - you might get too embarrassed or worried to show them what you've written. Just keep looking for what works! 
• Draw it. This definitely sounds weird, I know haha, but often you've got images in your head of what you're feeling, whether they're realistic - (e.g. people, monsters, storms, etc.) - or abstract - (e.g. sharp angles and edges, scribbles, darkness, etc.) - and you don't need to be good at art to draw them up. Just outline the basic picture if you want, or go all the way and put in great detail if you want to; whatever you'd prefer. Then showing this to your therapist can really help to get the conversation going. It might not be obvious to them right away what it means, but they can ask questions about aspects of the picture that can start you talking about things you wouldn't have brought up otherwise. 
• Don't be afraid to interrupt! I know this can be a daunting prospect, especially with anxiety, but they are there to listen to you and will not be angry if you ask them to stop talking so you can tell them something. My therapist could talk for England - she goes on and on at 60mph and it can be hard to get a word in edgeways! But I've finally realized that it's okay to say "please stop, I want to tell you this", because often it's a split second thing when a thought comes into your head and you think, "I want to say this". Many times, I've just let it go, but not anymore, and it's getting me a long way. 
• Contradict them if they get something wrong. My therapist has made assumptions about me a few times that were waaaay off. If it happens to you, you need to tell them that they're wrong, or they'll take it and run with it, coming up with all sorts of things that you know aren't true of you! It's okay to say "no, that's not right". They won't be offended, because it's literally their job to help you in a way that's tailored to you, and they can't do that if they don't know what you're feeling. 
• Prepare yourself mentally before sessions. When you get into a session and actually do start to talk about a topic, there's no way of sugar-coating it - it's going to be emotionally draining. At that point, you can find yourself just wanting to shut down and stop responding. You can't let yourself do that - you can't recover without dealing with the hard things. So before sessions, ready yourself. Remember deep breathing and mindfulness skills (which I'll post about another time), and know that getting these things out is for the best. If you don't deal with them, they'll be there forever. You can do it, you just have to let yourself, and let your therapist help you. 

That's it for now, but if I think of anything else I'll be sure to make another post. 

Please leave comments about ways you open up - it just might help others, and it'd be interesting to know! 

-E xo

Alternatives To Self Harm: Sharpie

  Yesterday night, I tried something new.  I took a Sharpie and began to write.  On myself that is.  I wrote the word 'beautiful' on my hip, reminding myself to eat.  Its already begun to fade, but I can always touch it up a bit when I have to.  The point of doing this is that the sharpie lasts longer than a pen, it's more difficult to wash off.  If you wrote 'beautiful' or 'gorgeous' on yourself the night before, because you were feeling more confident, and then the next day you lose hope, what you wrote isn't coming off for a while.  It's a reminder.

    What I also wrote was a letter on my hand.  I was talking to a friend last night and we'd ended up on the conversation of how much we cared about the other.  I'm not sure she would want me to share her name, so for now she will stay anonymous.  But, she kept going on about me being strong and I ended up crying because I knew she cared, but I never knew she cared THIS much.  It was just amazing of her to be able to list the reasons she loved me.  So, I took the sharpie and on my hand I wrote the letter of her first name, a Y.

  Think of someone you know cares about you.  Even if you think they don't, but you know they do.  Write their initial somewhere on your hand or maybe your foot, I don't know.  Wherever you want, if you don't want anyone to see it.

  I'm not completely sure where this post has gone, but this is a tip I want to give you.  It's just a way I found to cope that's actually working.  This is also a pretty bad first post since I didn't explain more in depth, but I never was a talker.