08 Aug

Posted at 17:55h in Mental health
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Yesterday as I was chopping a pepper for tea, I cut my finger. A small but deep incision in the tip of the third finger on my left hand. I put a plaster over it but it wouldn't stop bleeding. I tried to continue with the food prep but was soon stopped by the throbbing and the blood seeping out either side of the bandage. Thankfully I had someone who could take over, and a friend nearby with the know-how to re-bandage my cut. Beth took off my hastily applied band-aid and searched through the three half-empty first-aid kits in the drawer. She took...

27 Jul

Posted at 09:05h in Mental health
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What do you say to someone suffering from anxiety? It can be hard to know. You don't want to put your foot in it, or say the wrong thing. You don't want to make matters worse. Let me reassure you - there is no perfect thing to say, mostly your friend just wants to know they are not alone. A couple of weeks ago I was anxious again. (I shared about it on facebook - here is the photo of me on that day.) After a long period when I have not had to deal with the symptoms and affects of my anxiety - the pounding heart,...

26 Jun

Posted at 15:47h in Mental health
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Being too busy is, for me, often the first step on the path to deteriorating mental health. I have made many changes to build a life where I am mentally healthy. One of the most important disciplines I have started to build is the practice of less. Less I always associated the idea of less with things being worse: less money, less time, less opportunity. This is not surprising, the world continually tells us we need more. We are shown and told in every media outlet how to get more: 8 ways to get more out of your day, 5 days to maximise productivity,...

14 Jun

Posted at 18:59h in Family, Mental health
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We have been in Anglesey for about 8 weeks now. It has been fantastic. As I write this I am outside sat at the table under the parasol. If I look up I can see the mountains of Snowdonia in the distance and the patchwork of fields, with the occasional house or farm dotted in between. The swallows that have nested in the outhouse where we keep the broken garden furniture and an impressive collection of cobwebs swoop in and out, dancing above me. All I can hear is birdsong, my fingers tapping on the the keys and a distant radio...

03 May

Posted at 19:45h in Mental health
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I had my first panic attack at 22. Except I didn't know that was what it was called, or that it was symptomatic of the fact I was suffering with a mental illness. Mental health was not on my radar. At all. I didn't think of my brain as being healthy or unhealthy. I didn't think about it having moving or corruptible parts. It just was. It existed and enabled me to get on with life. When I did allow myself to think about these panic attacks (mostly I liked to pretend I had imagined the whole thing) I believed these aberrations were caused by...

06 Apr

Posted at 13:51h in Mental health
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Maybe being broken is not the end of things, but the beginning When my son is at school I go into his bedroom to quietly throw some things away. Like my husband, my seven year old son is a hoarder. It doesnt occur to him to throw out the things that are broken or no longer fit for purpose. Why put them in the bin when you can keep them scattered across the floor? At least once a week I sneak in and gather a collection to be disposed of. These are not highly valued toys, but what I would refer to as 'junk'....

31 Mar

Posted at 14:57h in Mental health
11 Likes

Anxiety is a beast and it has no manners. It never waited for me to get dressed or have my breakfast before it pounced. It sat on the end of my bed waiting for me to open my eyes, dictating to me how the day would start. As I lay in bed, adrenalin surged and I was instantly catapulted from peaceful sleep straight to panic-central. I awoke, heart-racing in terror. Before I had even begun, the day had slid out of control. This was my reality for a number of years. This fight defined most mornings. I was slowly changing my life from the inside out. I was putting in...

22 Mar

Posted at 11:30h in Mental health
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The storm that hit Liverpool a few weeks ago has left its mark. The tree that fell across our road has been removed, but as I walk around my front garden today I see the lawn strewn with debris. In the flower beds small plants have been crushed or entangled in the mess. In life when a storm hits our first priority is dealing with the crisis: the child in the sick bed, the diagnosis, or depression or divorce. Our attention is on the centre of the storm, the pivot in the middle on which the whole thing turns. As the weather settles and we...

01 Mar

Posted at 14:15h in Faith
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Today is Ash Wednesday. In churches all over the country people are gathering to repent of their sins. They are kneeling while the vicar or celebrant draws a cross of ashes on their forehead as they prepare for Lent, and after that, Easter. I like this. A stopping point, a place to be reminded. It is only recently I have understood what repentance is really about. Maybe you never mis-used or misunderstood repentance, but for a long time I did. Repentance was part of the conversation about how I was messing it up and was not able to get my shit together. It was another way to...

24 Feb

Posted at 11:47h in Mental health
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On either side of my driveway crocuses and snowdrops have started to appear. They have forced their way through the decomposing leaves. Bursts of colour against the damp brown matting. I take a rake and gently pull it across the flowerbed, easing my way through the flowers carefully, trying not to knock off the delicate blooms. The flowers I expose are top heavy, their stems are white, translucent, anaemic. Many of them flop forward, unable to support their own weight. I fear my zeal might have shortened their already brief life. I recognise myself here. I have been re-learning how to live in a...