That is the question I ask myself. Can I really put myself out there? The side of me that I desperately try to hide so that I'm not judged, or even worse, pitied.
Let me elaborate. Since i updated you on my last post, i have been feeling better everyday. I'm ready to start living life again but there is only one problem. My electric wheelchair decided to die. Rip. Without it i'm abit stuck. Unfortunately my bungalow is situated on a steep incline, so i cannot push my manual wheelchair up or down, i can't even push my wheelchair very far without help. This means I'm now back to relying more on my carers and friends just to even go to the shop.
Sadly I cannot afford to replace my electric wheelchair , so after much consideration i set up a gofundmepage. Now i'm quite a private person (ok you might not think it according to my blog posts) but in real life I don't actually talk in depth about how my illness affects me. I always want to be treated as a person who just happens to be sitting down.
By not talking about it much ,it gives me the illusion that all is ok and I'm relatively normal. However it has its drawbacks. People assume your ok, you can cope. You eventually burn yourself out try to live up to this false reality. So where do you draw the line from people understanding your limitations to wanting to appear normal.
This is the dilemma i have at the moment. To enable me to fundraise for my page, i have to put myself out there. The raw, vulnerable me. The me that had hopes and dreams before my conditions took them away and I'm terrified. Terrified of peoples reactions, 'what will they think of me', what if they think I don't deserve a new chair', 'will the whole village be gossiping about me', 'will i be scrutinised for every movement i make'.
Although my original hopes and dreams are a distant memory, i long to make new ones, to meet to people, to continue my journey. Just in a different way and hopefully with a new wheelchair i can do just that x
https://www.gofundme.com/hayley039s-wheelchair-fund
Tuesday, 21 May 2019
Monday, 20 May 2019
MENTAL HEALTH AND ME
I didn't realise how long it's been since I last posted. I think i got worried that I didn't have anything interesting to say or if people even read my blog. Anyway today I'm going to cover a topic that is affecting my daily life at the moment. Mental health.
Disclaimer: This post discusses suicidal tendencies, so please don't read if easily distressed.
I've suffered with anxiety and depression most of my life and was first prescribed antidepressants at 17. I was going through a difficult time at college and then struggled with full time employment. My colleagues thought I was lazy and miserable and I just couldn't keep up. Little did I know I had my genetic condition Ehlers Danlos Syndrome then but I got diagnosed late. Life might have been different otherwise. It took a few years of dark times to find the right antidepressants. After that I was relatively stable, just having a few blips along the way like everybody does.
Fast forward 14 years to now. It's been six months of hell that I hope I never have to go through again. It started with a uti or three, trips to a and e for other conditions and a downwards spiral ensued. It seems the meds I was on were interfering with my antidepressants. My life crumbled around me and I had to move in with my parents as I couldn't cope at home. Each day was filled with sheer panic. Like a brick came down in front of me and I couldn't break it down. I couldn't get in the shower, my mind would panic, I couldn't tidy the house and I couldn't go outside. Things I loved to do I know longer could. No more watching a tv programme, read a book, craft or go on the computer.
Anxiety is like your body is running terrified from a bear. Your brain doesn't shut down to concentrate, your body doesn't relax to sleep. Everyday I wished I was dead. Every night I wished I didn't wake up in the morning. I had alot of terrible thoughts going through my head on how to end my life.
I decided to come of my antidepressants for a few weeks because I didn't understand why my mental health was so bad, why stay on them if they weren't working. I soon realised that they did work my moods became even more erratic, so i went back on them. Its been over a week now and I'm already feeling better. Bit by bit I'm piecing my life back together. I have to carry on. I have to climb back up the ladder. With the help of my therapist I am learning to cope. I still have days of panic and I've learned to focus on my breathing, or count to ten. This stops my mind from going into overdrive.
The other day I had a pile of clothes to sort. My brain panicked and said I just can't do it, so I left it. This created a vicious cycle of anxiety all day, worrying that I can't do it. I eventually did do it and I got so engrossed in the task that i tidied my whole bedroom. I've also started to exercise again (yes you can exercise in a wheelchair) something that used to fill me with joy but i began to dread it. Just venturing out into the garden and listening to the birds relaxes me. I also write down one task a day to do, even if it's just putting some books away. It was hard focusing on it at first but by breaking down tasks I don't feel so overwhelmed. Also by writing the tasks down ,I can see how much i have achieved at the end of the week.
Slowly hour by hour i make it through another day and for that i am proud x
Disclaimer: This post discusses suicidal tendencies, so please don't read if easily distressed.
I've suffered with anxiety and depression most of my life and was first prescribed antidepressants at 17. I was going through a difficult time at college and then struggled with full time employment. My colleagues thought I was lazy and miserable and I just couldn't keep up. Little did I know I had my genetic condition Ehlers Danlos Syndrome then but I got diagnosed late. Life might have been different otherwise. It took a few years of dark times to find the right antidepressants. After that I was relatively stable, just having a few blips along the way like everybody does.
Fast forward 14 years to now. It's been six months of hell that I hope I never have to go through again. It started with a uti or three, trips to a and e for other conditions and a downwards spiral ensued. It seems the meds I was on were interfering with my antidepressants. My life crumbled around me and I had to move in with my parents as I couldn't cope at home. Each day was filled with sheer panic. Like a brick came down in front of me and I couldn't break it down. I couldn't get in the shower, my mind would panic, I couldn't tidy the house and I couldn't go outside. Things I loved to do I know longer could. No more watching a tv programme, read a book, craft or go on the computer.
Anxiety is like your body is running terrified from a bear. Your brain doesn't shut down to concentrate, your body doesn't relax to sleep. Everyday I wished I was dead. Every night I wished I didn't wake up in the morning. I had alot of terrible thoughts going through my head on how to end my life.
I decided to come of my antidepressants for a few weeks because I didn't understand why my mental health was so bad, why stay on them if they weren't working. I soon realised that they did work my moods became even more erratic, so i went back on them. Its been over a week now and I'm already feeling better. Bit by bit I'm piecing my life back together. I have to carry on. I have to climb back up the ladder. With the help of my therapist I am learning to cope. I still have days of panic and I've learned to focus on my breathing, or count to ten. This stops my mind from going into overdrive.
The other day I had a pile of clothes to sort. My brain panicked and said I just can't do it, so I left it. This created a vicious cycle of anxiety all day, worrying that I can't do it. I eventually did do it and I got so engrossed in the task that i tidied my whole bedroom. I've also started to exercise again (yes you can exercise in a wheelchair) something that used to fill me with joy but i began to dread it. Just venturing out into the garden and listening to the birds relaxes me. I also write down one task a day to do, even if it's just putting some books away. It was hard focusing on it at first but by breaking down tasks I don't feel so overwhelmed. Also by writing the tasks down ,I can see how much i have achieved at the end of the week.
Slowly hour by hour i make it through another day and for that i am proud x
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