Category: Mental Health Problems

Checking in

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It’s been a tough old week, friends. I know it’s been a while since I published on here, but I’m still rambling wherever I can. I have been popping links to publications in external articles under the ‘roles, awards and publications’ page, so if you want to see what I’m up to/currently angry about, feel free.

Whilst we’re on the subject of checking in, I hope you’re okay, and checking in with yourselves. The past week has proven that I am not checking in with myself, or adequately looking after my mental health – I suppose life just…happens – but I obviously have been neglecting myself. It’s funny: living with cPTSD (complex PTSD ) has taught me that no day is the same. And yet, whenever I notice my mental health slipping, it always feels like a surprise. I must get better at recognising the signs.

Anyway, stay safe and well: I will write something of more substance soon. In the meantime, if you want to see what I’ve been doing, Twitter is your best bet (@nosuperheroblog ). Til next time, friends…

Heather x

Unearthing silver-linings

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Who’d have thought we’d be in this position? We’ve been locked-down since the middle of March and life as we knew it has been turned upside-down.

The covid-19 pandemic has been a real roller-coaster of emotions for many. There have been unimaginable losses, a myriad of changes and acknowledgement that life may never be quite the same ever again.

Like many, I have been working from home for the past two months, and staying at home where possible. Although it has obviously been a real change to my daily life, there have been some unexpected positives that have come from all of this. I’m fortunate enough to be able to access therapy over video-calls, and being locked-down is reducing any outside stresses, allowing me to really focus on getting the most out of my sessions. It’s been one of the little silver linings I’ve seen peeking through, and I am going to grab this opportunity to reflect, heal, and learn with both hands.

My mental health story is something I have shared on no superhero before, but last year was a really pivotal time for me. I was diagnosed with complex PTSD (cPTSD, CPTSD, C-PTSD). Obtaining this diagnosis was key for me, as it helped me to start the long process of unravelling the mechanisms behind my mental health, my beliefs and my behaviours. 12 months on, I am acutely aware that this process will not be an easy one, nor a quick fix. It’s going to take a lot of time and effort. One day I’ll share a little bit more about cPTSD and my experiences, symptoms and story. But for now, as I sit in my flat surrounded by the things that spark happiness, warmth and love, I am feeling like I’m at a Good Point in my journey. It is possible to find some light amongst the dark. It is possible to unearth those silver linings. And I am going to make the most of them showing through.

Happiness is…

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…soft lamp light, an abundance of throws, tea sipped at just the right temperature, scribbling on a crisp, clean page, crossing off items on my to-do list, the crinkle of a packet followed by a duet of wheeks, the light glinting off a freshly-polished table, sunlight streaming through the window in the early hours

‘The Girl Who Took a Rocket to the Moon & Other Stories’*

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Mental health.

It’s something we all have. Yet none of us seem to want to talk about it.

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‘The Girl Who Took a Rocket to the Moon & Other Stories’ is a book, aimed at adults and children alike, that attempts to break down the stigma surrounding mental health, creating a conversation within which individuals can discuss their own issues with others.

Jenny Eckloff, who wrote the book after seeing a loved one struggle with their own mental health, has written seven short stories that encompass all aspects of mental health. From tackling anxiety, to depression, to panic attacks, Jenny’s book – illustrated by the talented Sammie Ripley – showcases stories that are relatable, yet often poignant.

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Though it capture the multi-faceted nature of the human emotional experience, the book is very accessible. The stories are short enough to be read easily, and would make a great bedtime story for little ones. They address panic attacks, depression and anxiety in an open, non-judgemental way, allowing the characters to overcome their difficulties and with the understanding that it is okay to talk.

A particular favourite of mine – ‘The Fallen Star’ – addresses the difficulties individuals have in seeking help, and encourages others to be there when individuals do reach out:

‘…maybe sometimes, stars need to fall and even though he couldn’t fix it, he just needed to be for it when it did…it takes great strength to ask for help…and it takes equal amounts to fix yourself.’

As someone who made that very first step in addressing my own mental health, these words were particularly resonating. It is hard to seek help, and even harder to actually help yourself. The glossary at the back of the book is a wonderful, concise resource that can be used explaining anxiety, panic attacks, depression and more whilst reading the stories.

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Reading Jenny’s book – alongside Sammie’s whimsical illustrations – is a really lovely, affirming experience, and would make a wonderful gift to those struggling with their own mental health, or the mental health of their loved ones.

Thanks so much to Jenny for letting me review your book: it truly is wonderful, and I hope you continue to break the stigma and taboo of mental health one story at a time.

You can follow Jenny on twitter @Reckless_Winter, see her website at http://www.jennyeckloff.com .

You can also look at more of Sammie’s wonderful illustrations over at: https://www.instagram.com/samsillustration/

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Happiness is…

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…snuggling up in front of the fire, guinea pigs splashing around in a bubble bath, hot steamy showers, the wave of pain relief washing over me, making plans and chasing dreams, wrapping up in a toasty blanket, rain running down the window pane, sleepy smiles, cloudy winter mornings 

Disappointments, Direction and Decisions: Visiting the Musculoskeletal Clinic

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Yesterday felt like a big, anxiety-inducing, sad-making day.

I woke up early knowing I had to attend my MSK Clinic appointment with butterflies in my tummy and a raspy dry throat. Perhaps it seems a little over dramatic to feel this way, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t anxious.

Truth is, I had been waiting for this appointment for months, having had to be re-referred to a different service in a different part of the country since moving back after my university studies. This appointment would determine what kind of support I’d be entitled to back in my hometown, and having got used to the routine and effectiveness of treatment back in my university town, I was extremely anxious at the prospect of having no support at all, which seems like an exaggeration, I know.

You see, it is very much a postcode lottery when accessing healthcare.

As much as I love the NHS, I must say there really is a huge difference with regards to provisions and accessibility depending on where you are in the country. It’s all a bit touch and go with certain services, as each have different approaches. Back in East Yorkshire I’d been lucky enough to receive frequent acupuncture treatment, excellent mental health treatment through several talking therapies, and access to a neuro consultant, occupational therapy and physio. Though I’d seen a physio and neurologist a long time ago back home, I hadn’t ever seen an occupational therapist despite having cerebral palsy. I also hadn’t had frequent acupuncture, or had monitoring of my curvature since the age of sixteen. It made me anxious to think all the fantastic progress I had made in Hull could possibly be stripped away just because the services and provisions aren’t available here.

All of this explained the butterflies and raspy throat, I guess.

As I suspected, things have changed. Much to my disappointment, they don’t offer acupuncture here. This was a little hard to swallow (and accounts for my exclamation of ‘oh no!’ in the consulting room) and though I was offered facet joint injections back in East Yorkshire, I was told I probably won’t be able to have them over here for a few years owing to my age. I might also have to consider a spinal fusion in the future (eek!) so they’d want to reduce steroid exposure to a minimum.

Again, fairly disappointing.

It’s not all bad, though. I will be discussed at their monthly review -‘they’ being made up of doctors, spinal consultants, neurologists, nurses and pain management specialists – and it is likely I’ll be able to access support to help with the mental struggles of the cerebral palsy and scheuermann’s, which is really quite exciting considering this aspect has never been discussed. I’ll also have specialist physio, with therapists who know the condition, and will be able to advise me accordingly, a change from the ‘I’ve never actually seen scheuermann’s in a person before!’ physio I’ve had previously. So, I’m feeling a bit mixed-up about this one. I am seriously gutted I can’t have acupuncture, and will be looking into private treatment options.

However, I am feeling a glimmer of hope, and really feel that the mental health focus will help. It is also lovely to know I am not alone, so a big thank you to Ben for coming with me to my appointment. This is a start, and I have at least some direction, and I’ll just have to hang tight and see what’s in store.

I’ll get there, I’m sure.

Sending warm bear hugs on this chilly day…

Heather x

Happiness is…

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…the squeak of a guinea pig, the sparkle of an icy road, warm hugs on chilly nights, the crunch of an apple, cold rosy cheeks, the putting on of a woolen hat over red ears, drying tears, a sigh of relief when the worst is over.  

Therapy: Letting Go

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It’s been a while since I started CBT, and I recently had my final session. CBT, though essentially great, brings up some conflicted feelings. I suppose that’s inevitably the case with  any talking therapy, but as my CBT went on for almost three months, I feel like I really invested a lot into each session.

Therapy for mental health conditions can be really helpful, but – and as with any treatment – you can’t expect a quick fix. Admittedly, though I’ve had counselling before, when I first started CBT I didn’t account for just how hard I’d have to work and how emotionally draining I’d find it. Walking out of the first session I felt simultaneously overwhelmed and absolutely empty, and I remember walking around the nearest supermarket aimlessly and directionless, with what felt like a flick-book of every emotion I’ve ever felt whirring through my head. It did, of course, get easier over time, but I always found it difficult to snap back after each session. 

Each of my sessions were tailored to me each week, depending on the situations I found difficult, and the topics I really needed to address. I loved this part of the session, as we’d draw up an agenda and tackle the issues most important to me. Essentially, though, what each of my sessions boiled down to was working through my low self esteem and trying to recognise and acknowledge the good things I have done. Thing is, I get so blinded by feelings of anxiety, hopelessness and inadequacy that I completely ignore the good and positive things I have achieved throughout my life.

I also spent a considerable proportion of my sessions working through hypothetical situations that I often worried about, with the aim of learning to accept  that I cannot control everything in my life, and I cannot solve everyone else’s issues. This was a particularly challenging topic to address, but I feel like I made some really positive progress in learning to accept and work through these issues.

CBT also addressed what felt like a dirty little secret for far too long. Thing is, I always suspected i had OCD-esque traits, but I’d never actually been diagnosed. Along with the assessor prior to my CBT, we agree that I do have OCD that fluctuates from day to day. I have always been a stickler for routine, but I knew things were a bit unusual when I found myself checking clothes, and jewellery, and other things that really didn’t require constant checking, like whether my alarm was set or that my door was locked, even though I could see that the latch was on. It’s frustrating, because no matter how much I know that these things don’t need checking, I cannot resist. And if I try to resist, I feel an unstoppable anxiety bubbling up which can only be ‘quelled’ by checking. Of course this only reinforces the behaviour, which makes it a really hard cycle to break. I have worked on techniques to help, and I am noticing that I’m getting better, even if this progress is only slow. 

CBT provided some great coping mechanisms to work towards in order to reduce the symptoms of anxiety and depression. These include keeping logs of activities that I’m particularly apprehensive about, or recalling situations that I found difficult and then examining mine – and other people’s – responses. Crucially this made me acknowledge that situations aren’t as bad as I expect them to be, and that working on evidence – and not speculation – is key to working towards a happier, less anxious life. 

Now that my CBT has come to an end, I’m facing the everyday struggles with a mixture of apprehension and pride. I’m proud because I’ve really improved, but apprehensive because I suddenly feel all alone. The relationship with your therapist becomes a really important one; they’re there on a professional level, to help you through what can sometimes be the most challenging times of your life, but they somehow become more than just a confidant as you build up a relationship with them. You open yourself up completely to them, and they are privy to some of your greatest fears, deepest emotions and darkest secrets. They become integral to working through your mental health issues, and  invest a great deal of time and effort in helping you. I feel a little bit lost facing the big, bad world on my own, but I am so grateful that my therapist has equipped me with the skills to tackle this on my own. 

I suppose I’m finding it difficult to let go. I know that I’ve only just embarked on my ‘journey’ (and no, I’m not keen on that explanation, but it’ll have to do) but I know it’s going to be a long, hard slog. My mental health does fluctuate, and dealing with my physical disabilities brings another layer of complexity to proceedings, but I’m positive that I’ll get there; whenever ‘there’ may be. 

I am letting go, and I am learning that I can do this on my own. I just need to prove it to myself. 

Social Media, ‘Spoonies’ and Speaking Out

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Social media changed my life.

This is no exaggeration. There’s no other way to put it. Social media changed my life.

Most of us are well-acquainted with social media and all its forms. Many of us have a Facebook account, where according to the statistics provided by Facebook itself, there are 1.65 billion monthly users with an active Facebook profile (Facebook Newsroom, 2016). Twitter, though smaller, also has impressive user figures, with an average of 310 million active monthly users, and 1 billion unique visits monthly to sites with embedded Tweets (Twitter Company site, 2016). These figures pertaining to social media users are impressive, and are only set to grow as the number and variety of social media platforms increases. I know Facebook and Twitter often draw bad press with regards to ‘trolling’ or cyber-bullying incidents, but I want to share with you my positive experiences using social media, and why I think they really can be a force for good.

I got into Twitter when one of my friends set up my first ever twitter account. I was reluctant initially, but decided I had nothing to lose and so got stuck right in. Twitter seems to polarise its users: most people I know either love it or hate it, but after nearly six years of using that initial account, I can assure you I fall into the former camp, rather than the latter. Twitter – if you don’t already know – is described as a way to connect to others via ‘announcements’ of no more than 140 characters, called tweets, which can also include photos or short video clips. Registered users can create AND read tweets, whereas unregistered users can only read tweets and not create their own, or ‘like’, ‘retweet’ or send direct messages to others on the platform. Tweets are short, snappy and to the point, unlike Facebook statuses, which can be pretty long and lengthy in comparison. Facebook in comparison is great for reconnecting with long-lost friends and family members worldwide, and can be a fabulous place to store all your treasured photos. I also love using the Facebook messenger app, and I am part of several groups where we chat and connect over common interests. Both platforms provide a slightly different social media experience, and though some people have experienced the downside of social media, it has been such an incredible eye opener for me.

Social media is a great tool for connecting communities, and one I’ve become really involved with is the ‘spoonie’ community. ‘Spoonie’ is a term coined by Christine Miserando, based on the Spoon Theory, which you can read about here: http://www.butyoudontlooksick.com/articles/written-by-christine/the-spoon-theory/ . The spoon theory is a way to help explain the daily difficulties living with chronic illness, invisible illness and disabilities, and when I first stumbled upon this term everything started to fall into place. You see, I have cerebral palsy, but for a long time I didn’t want to admit to it. I didn’t understand it, and I felt ashamed and embarrassed of these differences. It was only through looking into the spoon theory and the community of ‘spoonies’ that connect as a result of this that I finally found the courage to come to terms with my diagnosis. I found like-minded people through the #spoonie hashtag, I got to learn more about my condition of spastic hemiparesis and its associated diagnoses, and after years of lack of education about my disabilities, things finally began to fall into place. My ‘spoonie’ experience culminated in meeting up with several of my wonderful twitter friends with hemiplegic cerebral palsy themselves, and I finally felt like I wasn’t alone. There were people who cared about my welfare. There were people who understood my frustration and felt my pain. And I just knew I’d made connections that would last my lifetime.

I feel that some people worry about speaking out and being honest on social media for fear of ridicule. I actually expected to receive a level of scrutiny when it comes to disclosing diagnoses and potentially sensitive information, and almost prepared myself for it. Though I was initially okay with sharing information about my physical disabilities – notably cerebral palsy and scheuermann’s kyphosis – I wasn’t always so sure about disclosing my mental health issues. But there came that ‘lightbulb moment’ when I found that sharing this information wasn’t so bad after all. There was a similar community here; where people with mental health conditions felt connected, understood and that they were being taken seriously by their peers. And then I thought ‘why should I be hiding this aspect of myself? Why should I feel ashamed about conditions I have no control over?’ and I decided to speak up. I decided to be honest; not only with others, but with myself. Being transparent about issues I’d sat on and ruminated over for year felt incredibly refreshing, and genuinely cathartic. I finally felt like I was coming to terms with all my diagnoses, and I’d be lying if I said social media wasn’t integral to that.

In an age where disabled people – and disabled women – are finding themselves under ever-increasing scrutiny, it is my firm belief that we must speak up. Though there have been advancements made with regards to liberatory and emancipatory movements during the twentieth and twenty first centuries, we have a long, long way to go. I myself have been the target of ‘ableist’ abuse, further perpetuated by damaging stereotypes seen splashed across tabloids and inflammatory articles online. We have not reached a stage where disabled people can feel comfortable despite their diversity. Many people are accused of fraudulently claiming benefits, or exaggerating the nature of their conditions for apparent personal gain. It is a constant uphill battle for disabled people to thrive in such restrictive environments, but portraying an authentic experience of what it is to be disabled in twenty-first century western society is one way to seriously combat these issues. I want to continue to grow older knowing that social perceptions are changing, and that I can feel comfortable in my own skin, with my own differences and my own talents and skills to bring to the table. The disabled minority is the biggest minority group globally, and yet we seem to fall so far behind in supporting this group. In a world where more people are exceeding life expectancy and where medical advances greatly improve our quality of life, we need to act now and shape a society where disabled people are unafraid to speak out. And I truly believe social media has a big part to play in all of this.

Social media changed my life. It might just change yours for the better, too.

PS: I have just started publishing posts on My Trending Stories found here, so why not check it out? Don’t worry, I’ll still be posting here, too. Hope you’re having a great day,
Heather x

Sources:

http://www.butyoudontlooksick.com/ (2016)

https://newsroom.fb.com/company-info/ (2016)

https://about.twitter.com/company (2016)