The awesome Wentworth Miller

This is Wentworth Miller.

He's an actor, most recognisable - or at least to me - for the 2005 show Prison Break. To be honest, that's the only thing I was really aware of him doing and I wasn't even a particular fan of that show about, you guessed it, a prison break. (Unless it's got romance in it, I'm not likely to be interested!)

Anyway, since Prison Break ended in 2009, I hadn't heard anything about him since. Until today that is.

Today I was made aware of a Facebook post a group called Lad Bible had placed on their page.

Now, I don't want to be as mean as I will soon tell you that the Lad Bible were, but I can't help but feel that nothing good can come of a site who states: "One of the largest communities for guys aged 16-30 in the world. Send us your funniest pictures and videos!" But anyway...

 Yesterday, this appeared on their Facebook page:

Yeah - hilarious, right? Can't wait to see the rest of their 'funny' content. *rolls eyes*

But did Wentworth get mad and stoop to the same level as Lad Bible? Oh no - he took the high road and what a bloody awesome high road he took.

How powerful. How inspiring. Yet how absolutely heartbreaking. If I can say anything positive about my own struggle, at least I don't have to do it with the eyes of the world watching me and just waiting for me to slip up or show weakness. And as he says, he dealt with that watching and waiting without anybody even knowing what he was going through.

Now, I do offer a teeny, tiny bit of kudos to Lad Bible for offering this apology.

 
...but, I do have to say that I can't help but feel that they're only offering this apology because Wentworth confessed to his mental health issues.

If, for example, he hadn't said anything, or if he'd mentioned he'd hurt his ankle, couldn't get to the gym and that was the 'reason' for his weight gain - would that have warranted an apology?

I somehow doubt it.

No, mental health is not a joke or a laughing matter. And no, causing pain or distress is not acceptable.

But it's not acceptable to cause pain or distress to ANYONE. To make fun of ANYONE. For ANY reason.

So, I think that there are two lessons to be learned from this:

1) You never know what anyone else is going through so measure your words - and your social media posts - carefully

and

2) Wentworth Miller is someone we can all look up to as an amazing human being.


If you need help with any mental health issues, please visit my FAQ page for links and telephone numbers.

The best laid plans…

Why do I suspect that this may not be the first time that I have used this title in a blog post? And possibly will not be the last?

So, as per my great and grand plans, I was breaking down my life into small, manageable chunks and tackling them one by one.

Great plan.

Simple and fabulous.

And while I still stand by that, life has a fun way of saying ‘ha-ha - think you’re in charge? Think again!’

I have been out of traditional employment since the beginning of the year. At first it was to get better after a flare and then it became more about re-prioritising my life, raising my new puppy and enjoying my simple life.

But as the money in my savings account started to dwindle away, stress-head Jo started to rear her ugly head and started to say things to make me panic. Things like ‘chocolate and books cost money’ and ‘I suppose you also need to eat more than just chocolate. Unfortunately’.

Reluctantly, I listened to her and started looking for jobs. Ever one to be just a little bit rebellious (but just enough rebellious that I still follow the rules - wouldn’t want to get in trouble after all!!) I decided to go hunting for a part-time position.

A couple of applications later and I had an interview. I was excited - mainly because I want money and a husband and both are more likely to be found out and about than in my house. Sadly enough. And I should know - I’ve looked. There are neither a six foot hunk nor a pile of lolly stashed under my bed.

The particular interview was set for 8.45am to 2.15pm. I know - right! I mean sheesh! Part of me wondered whether they didn’t have any staff at all and just made their interviewees undertake the work required. But anyway…

Then came the stress. Now, I don’t know about anyone else with Ulcerative Colitis but this is the bit that gets me; I could meditate until the cows came home but I just can’t control the fact that I get stressed and that the stress has really horrible consequences for my body. I don’t actually even realise it’s happening which makes it nigh on impossible to do anything about it. Even if I could.

It started a few days before my interview. The bleeding, the pain, the nausea, the decision to live in the toilet for a while, the worry and the fear. No matter how many times it happens, there’s a moment when you realise it’s happening once again and all you can do is sit there and let the tears come. As this is usually happening while on the, erm, privy, my forehead has become used to placing itself on the edge of the sink. It really is like slamming into a brick wall when you’ve been happily moving along the street, minding your own business.

Back to the interview - it went well enough. The task, the competency based interview and the role-playing exercise (ick - shouldn’t these kind of things be banned for introverts?) were fine even if I did pause mid interview to point out the canal boat that was sailing past the window behind the interviewers. Well - I thought it was important!!

Sadly, the job was not for me and despite my mature attitude now, I was sad and a little angry. Not that I didn’t get the job but that my body was ripping apart internally and I felt the pain of it with every movement - and it was not even worth it.

That’s when the depression reared it’s ugly head and dragged me down. I was too weak to fight it. I could barely eat and I felt like hell and I was ripe for the plucking of the evil depression.

And then I realised - why the hell do I put myself through this? I have always said that I’m not cut out for the corporate world. I’m the girl that notices the canal boat rather than the bottom line.

Why do I constantly try and mould myself into something I’m clearly not? My body knows it. My heart knows it. When will my mind catch up?

Now.

Now - I’m catching up.

I can’t take this anymore. I can’t do this anymore.

I have to do something.

So, buh-bye plans of a hot body (for the moment anyway). My first priority is to sort out how I am going to be able to maintain my life without selling my soul to the corporate world.

It’s not going to be easy but at least I’ll have my health.

Since all I want is to be happy - I think this is a damn fine first step.

That's Okay...

I’m not sure if it’s a symptom of depression or just my personality but I am constantly worrying about what people think of me.

I keep a personal journal and, no word of a lie, I worry about coming across as a moaner with the amount of times I pour out my heart to its pages. Coming across to whom? No-one reads my journal and no-one will ever be allowed to read my journal. So that means that I’m effectively worried what people who might read it long after I’m dead will think of me.

Seriously?

Am I living up to the stereotype of crazy or what?

I know that it sounds ridiculous but I seem to have this perpetual fear of what others may think of me.

The same is true of this blog. I initially started it as a way to escape my depression. Then, I realised that I couldn’t gloss over the fact that depression is a major part of my life and if I wanted to work through it, I couldn’t avoid talking about it.

The repercussions of that is that people reading my blog might also think I’m a moaner if I go on about depression and the mindless number of ‘setbacks’ and steps backward I seem to take.

Man, all this thinking is exhausting!

And do you know what? That’s okay.

The fact that I seem to have minor setbacks on a weekly basis is okay too.

I have depression.

So do 20% of all adults. So I’m not that unusual - hard as it may be to believe!

If I put myself out there people may think that I am endlessly moaning. But, there might be one person, just one person who reads what I have to say and thinks ‘thank God, someone else isn’t finding it as easy to climb out of depression’.

It’s not easy and that’s not just okay - that’s the truth.

This is a real blog and I have to be true to me and truthful with my battles. If people think badly of me, my blog or anything I have to say - do you know what? - that’s okay, too.

Going Loco...

I'm going to go on a moan here and say that I hate the fact that when my anxiety and depression acts up, my UC also begins to flare.

Perhaps it's the other way around.

Thinking about it - it is the other way around. Or it certainly feels like that.

The first sign of blood and, even if my brain is already on a downward spiral, it just plummets.

It totally sucks.

Then I read this in a Harvard Medical School publication (that sounds so much better than 'I found this on the internet'!)

"The brain has a direct effect on the stomach. For example, the very thought of eating can release the stomach’s juices before food gets there. This connection goes both ways. A troubled intestine can send signals to the brain, just as a troubled brain can send signals to the gut. Therefore, a person’s stomach or intestinal distress can be the cause or the product of anxiety, stress, or depression. That’s because the brain and the gastrointestinal (GI) system are intimately connected — so intimately that they should be viewed as one system."

 So basically either my depression is causing my UC symptoms. Or, my UC is causing my depression.

That's doesn't really help me but it's nice to know that when I get to the bottom of one of my diseases, the other one should stop causing me so much bother, too. Something to be positive about - that's a silver lining.

I also saw this really interesting post and it was just so true...

It sucks for me but I completely admit that it must suck hugely for my loved ones, too.

Hopefully I can bounce back and get back to 'normal' soon.

Damn the blips...

I had a little blip today, mentally speaking.

I've narrowed it down to a few things that are happening in my life, friends wise, that have upset me a little bit.

For various reasons, I've always pushed people away who try to get too close to me. I no longer speak to anyone from my school days, university and really only speak to other people that I've connected with through the years on Facebook - which I rarely look at.

I am a card carrying introvert who also has depression and anxiety, so that's not really unexpected - I just sometimes wish I could find people that I connect with who I will want to let into my quiet little world. I often think I've found a few of those precious friends but it always turns out that they don't like me quite as much as I like them. I remember birthdays, notice little things, ask and am interested in people but no-one seems to take that much care with me. Oh, I'm no saint, not perfect by any stretch of the imagination and a giant pain in the ass - but I often feel like I put other people first while I'm quite low down on their lists if I'm on their lists at all.

I saw this quote on Pinterest (where else?) and it really spoke to how I'm feeling today.

I just wish that I could find friends who will jump more than puddles for me.

Thank goodness for my family who always stick by me and understand that my depression isn't going to be cured overnight. They would cross oceans just as I would for them.

Numb

I'm beginning to wonder if the depression medication actually takes away the emotions or if it just suppresses them.

I am back at work today after a week off to use up my holidays before my contract ends at the end of the month. I wasn't looking forward to going back but it's nowhere near as bad as it used to be when I worked at the bakery. (I didn't really work at a bakery - I'm just just substituting so I don't break out in a panic at the mere mention of the real name of the company I used to work for. I would *love* to work in a bakery!!)

Despite this, there are things going on at work, plots afoot (afeet?) and mind games being played - the kind of office politics that go hand in hand with most office jobs.

It's exhausting.

I feel emotionally drained and have learnt today that I'm considered even more superfluous than I could possibly have imagined. There's an interesting saying by Eleanor Roosevelt: "No-one can make you feel inferior without your consent. As much as I like this quote, I don't completely agree. If people are mentally beating you on a regular basis, it's just not possible to think well of yourself when they constantly tell you you're worthless. Or worse, imply that you are. At least if someone straight out tells you to your face, you can refute it. If it's said behind your back...

So, onto my question...

... here I sit. I've driven home, made my tea and now I have no obligations until tomorrow at 9am.

I'm just sitting here.

I feel like I should be crying.

I feel like I should be crying like my heart is breaking.

Instead I feel a little detached. Numb.

To be honest, I'm not sure which is better.

I feel a little lost.

I can feel it happening...

It's hard to describe how I've been feeling of late. I suppose you never really realise how far you've come until you actually stop and take stock. Or, in my case, when you feel like the path you are travelling has suddenly turned into an escalator and you're walking up the down side.

I have this panic - I look back and see where I've been and I really don't want to go there again. It's so far down yet so close. But the escalator is speeding up and I need to walk twice as fast just to stay in the same place. But I'm getting exhausted and I don't have the energy to keep going. So I sit down and slip slowly back down the escalator until I have gathered up enough energy to walk again. Yet the tired moments are coming thick and fast and after each burst of walking I'm still finding myself a little bit further back than I started.

I don't want to be this person. I don't want to be depressed.

I don't want to be in constant fear of the swirling vortex of darkness that's at the bottom of the escalator.

The sad thing is that I thought I was getting better. I have been getting better. Compared to this time last year I am doing much better. But now I know what it's like to be mired in feelings of utter despair, the fear of returning is added into the mix of feelings I'm experiencing.

I'm depressed.

That doesn't mean I'm sad and it doesn't mean that I'm grumpy. If I could 'cheer up' I would - believe me. I wish I could 'cheer up'. I wish that I didn't keep coming back to this place. This lonely, all-consuming place that I hate.

As it is, I'm on that escalator and can't get off and can't stop.

J x

Erm, 87 day challenge?

It's been a busy and stressful old week. But...I have to admit to a certain amount of pride in myself because I did not break down. I felt like there were plenty of chances and I was teetering on the edge at points, but did I fall over? No I did not! Yay!

Ironically, at the end of the week I had a checkup with my doctor regarding my depression and the medication that I'm currently on. I was pushed up to the highest dose of said drugs a little over a month ago as I was beginning to worry that the drugs were starting to lose their potency. More pills didn't seem to make much of a difference but when I managed to get through this week - I was happy to tell the doctor that I felt so much better.

And then, like an annoying game of snakes and ladders, downward I went again. It's so frustrating and makes me so sad, not just for me but for those that I love and love me back. It's like someone teases me with happiness only to wrench it out from beneath my feet when I'm just starting to get my balance.

Sadly, I really think that I can pin all of this on one little thing - work. The big event is over and I survived but I suppose it's very naive of me to have expected some sort of thanks. Nope - not a bean of thanks was given. It's this kind of little thing that cements that the corporate world just isn't meant for me. Sadly, instead of an angel and devil on my shoulders - I've got my heart and health on one side and my responsibilities on the other.

Anyway, this minor set back is why I am now gearing up for my 87 day challenge rather than a 90 day one!

It's primarily a health challenge but it incorporates both physical fitness and mental fitness (the second being a term that I really enjoy saying for some reason!).

And why is this challenge limited to 87 days?

Because that's how long it is until CHRISTMAS!

I love, love, love Christmas but it also just happens to be a decent distance away to set myself a fitness goal.

So, in the 90 87 days until Christmas I want to achieve the following:

* Tone up so I'm comfortable in my own skin
* Own my curves
* Get a physical and mental fitness plan that I'm sticking to and loving

So that is where I'm aiming.

And going back to work, no - not one person thanked either myself or my team for our (even if I do say so myself) fantabulous event last week. However, upon hearing this, my sister gave me this:

A bunch of flowers to congratulate me. And, they mean so much more than anything else anyone at work could have given me.

A bump in the road...

The other day I had a little bump in my road. This isn't unusual but it's the first since my doctor upped my dose of fluoxetine (prozac) to 60mg a day.

I have a stressful job. I think part of the reason that it's so stressful is that I know that what I do is hardly the stuff of life and death. It's actually so monumentally unimportant that it can be laughable to see others in the organisation treat it as such. That fact certainly doesn't stop them from putting all holy pressure on me and my team, unfortunately.

I'll admit it - I cracked. Cracked up, that is.

If I'm honest with myself, it's my heart that's my problem with my job. It's just not there and sometimes it's a struggle to hide that from people - including myself.

My head and my heart are at war. I know I want to indulge my creative side as far as my career goes. I also know that I have bills to pay and my practical side (aka my head) will not let me walk away from a paying job to do something that doesn't have a steady wage.

I'm a practical dreamer. Doesn't that suck?

Anyway, my breakdown was intense but, thankfully, fairly short lived. Some junk food, some mum time and a puff inducing blubber was all that was needed to bring back some equilibrium.

Yet the feelings haven't left me completely and little niggles over the week have just made me think about the future more and more.

I'm hopefully going to take this weekend to come up with an action plan to get myself back on track. Back on the road. Stepping stones not stumbling blocks.

The next step...

I had another great day off, today.

My mum and I went shopping where she forced me to buy some bargains - and I do love a good bargain. Among others I got a pair of heels for only £3.50. That's only £1.75 a shoe!

After this, we headed to our local Chinese Buffet restaurant to partake in a deliciously sumptuous lunch. There's definitely something about this place that I really enjoy. You go in, sit down, order your drink and then you can immediately start loading your plate. My favourite has to be the chicken balls but I do love that I can try lots of different things without committing to a full meal of only one thing.

As usual, I ate too much but the food was delicious and the company even better.

It was then my turn to force mum to continue with the shopping and we went to a couple of shops up at the other end of town where there was a sale on! Yay!

A few pennies lighter, I came away with some lovely things including a lovely set of 'lounge wear'. I do love casual clothes and even more so when the weather is changing as it currently is with us. Despite the warm weather today, the nights are fair drawing in and you can definitely detect a slight nip that signals the coming autumn. With that change comes all the autumn and winter gear appearing in the shops. While I've yet to see any hats and gloves - I have seen plenty of cosy cardigans, fuzzy boots and big comfy socks.

I enjoyed the sun and the long nights but I do admit that I have a partiality for the chill of autumn and the crispness of winter. All the while being tucked up inside, ideally beside a roaring fire. But more on that another day.

My last task of the day was to take the next step of the new, daring me! I booked my first tattoo!

I've always wanted a tattoo but over the years I've managed to talk myself out of it by thinking too much. With the bravery of my piercings still trickling through me, I bit the bullet and booked myself in for Monday!

Rather than going for what I'd always assumed I would get (a small lion rampant or thistle on my hip), I fell in love with this little heart tattoo on the neck. I just couldn't decide what I wanted on my hip and, as my wise mum told me, if I didn't LOVE the tattoo, I shouldn't get it. So the heart tattoo will be my jumping off point. Starting small - I like that!

Tomorrow I'm attending a course that my psychologist booked me on about dealing with stress. It's not funny, but I'm quite anxious about going. I wonder if that's the first lesson - how not to get stressed when attending a stress course! Honestly!

To be fair, I really have seen an improvement in myself and I'm excited that I'm finally feeling like I might be on the right path. Long may it continue.

A Fresh Start...

It's Monday today and also the last day of my holiday.

I have also decided that it's the last day of my old life and that tomorrow begins a fresh start for me.

I'll admit that this is a vow that I've made on numerous occasions before but, never before in a public setting.

So, this new start has two elements that, as a whole, come back to one goal.

The first element is to be healthy, eat healthily, lose weight and tone up. However, the main thing behind this 'resolution' is to be comfortable in my own skin. I have purchased a bikini as a motivator. I want to be able to wear it (just in my garden but still...) and feel confident with how I look.

Spotty dreams

The second element is to get myself on track. On a personal level, I can't carry on feeling like I have been. I feel doubly bad for how my depression must be, or more accurately, is affecting my parents. I've come so far but I've still got a long way to go and I must keep going. On a professional level, I need to find my purpose in life and start a plan to go out and make it happen. It doesn't matter how fast or slow I go, I just want to know I'm on my way.

These two elements all come back to one thing - one goal: be happy.

Wish me luck.

B x

To write or not to write...

I started this blog with the very real intention of writing about all the things that make me happy. This was primarily as a result of my depression and ultimate need to focus of the positive and happy things in my life. It would keep my mind on the straight and narrow while giving me a sanctuary to come to should I feel the need of a boost.

But I promised I wouldn't talk about depression. And there lies my ultimate problem.

At this point in my life, depression doesn't define me but it really does touch everything to do with me, what I do and how I think. The fact of the matter is that depression is a massive part of my life.

That's not necessarily a good thing but I wouldn't be where I am today (or starting a blog about happy things) if I didn't have the need to get myself better. Basically, you can't appreciate the highs if you haven't experienced the lows.

Going back to the quote in my first post, if I put depression to the side and never discuss it then it's simply a stumbling block I'm moving to the side. Instead, I want to deal with it, understand how it affects me and learn to make this all a stepping stone.

For me, that means I need to talk about it.

I'm still hoping that this blog will be a place of happy and as time goes on, perhaps depression won't even feature in what I have to say. Until then, I have decided that this is my blog and I'm going to use it, too, as a stepping stone to being well.