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White Flag
Let me explain. This post isn’t something I’ve been looking forward to writing down for all to see. It feels more than a little awkward. I know that some people (who I really rather wouldn’t) will potentially read this and I am more than aware (less so prepared) for some silent judgement coming my way. Equally, I could just keep this to myself. But it feels a bit ridiculous to have started a blog as a cathartic way of helping me process my
A wise lady once said, “Anxiety. She’s a funny ol’ gal…” and she was right. Another told me “OCD is a bitch” and she was pretty much spot-on too.
Both anxiety and OCD have been present in my life for a very long, unwelcome time. In fact, it had got to a point where anxiety was such a familiar foe of mine, that who I was, and how I felt and acted on a daily basis, had become the norm.
The tricky thing is, when you believe that something is normal, and ‘just the way you
And that’s dandy for a while. You can leave anxiety and OCD simmering softly in the background, but ultimately, at some point they’re likely to boil over. And boil over they did.
Three days after returning to work from my second maternity leave I had what you might like to call, a modest breakdown. I refer to it as a modest breakdown because very few people
My return to work, coinciding with settling my eldest into a new preschool & my youngest with a new childminder had all intensified symptoms of my existing OCD and anxiety. I was on edge, paranoid, frightened, angry and exhausted.
I felt shitty. Properly
Due to the stigma that still surrounds mental health, asking for help (namely from my GP) still doesn’t sit comfortably with me. That might sound ridiculous, however for me, and for so many who I have spoken to since, I was not alone in thinking I was a bit of failure for seeking support.
Mental health is awkward to talk about. But I’ve had to talk about it, process it and indulge myself
Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m a crier. I’m a moaner. I’m not discreet in my emotions – happy to howl, cry and shout in public me
You would think anxiety is quite difficult to conceal, it’s not – least not in my experience. My anxiety does not manifest itself in nervousness, isolation or fear of leaving the house. My OCD does an awesome job of shrouding itself behind the impression that I like to live in a perfect show home, so – to those around me I’m just the same old Lorn! Historically I’ve found it’s easier to make light of my mental health worries; I’m all for
What is mildly amusing though is that after I sought help and made a plan (there always has to be a plan my friends, that’d be the OCD creeping in) I felt such a strange sense of empowerment. Despite originally feeling pretty disappointed in myself for having to surrender to the shitters that are anxiety &
”You keep it on the inside, because that’s the safest place to hide.”
In the UK, anxiety effects 4.7 in 100 people and women are almost twice as likely to be diagnosed in comparison to men; and yet, there is still so much notoriety surrounding mental health, and in turn taking medication. Why oh why my friends? I’m a little reluctant to admit that years ago I might have envisioned
For some, I know the process is so much harder – a lengthy road to recovery – but if you do decide that medication is right for you, why would you not snatch the prescription out of the GPs hand, leg it to the nearest pharmacy and cash that bad boy in? I think it’s shame. Stigma and shame. Anyone would think it was on a par with shooting up of a morning before sitting down to your latte. I have lost count the amount of times I have heard ”But if you had diabetes you would take tablets for that, it’s the same thing” – and
I also know that for many, medication
A crucial synopsis to this post (I’m still hiding, and sweating behind the cushion by the way) is that you’re not alone. Although I was lucky enough to have wonderful support from a network of friends and family, I still felt isolated. I don’t anymore.
And finally (if
This has been and still is mine, and it’s certainly a process – but another wise lady once said (And I know a few) – “Forward is forward” and I’ll take that.