Practical ways I tell my anxiety to keep away!


Anxiety sucks.

 

It can turn your average day into an overthought , catastrophizing nightmare.

 

I don’t have the cure I’m afraid .

 

I’ve read all the info , I know exercise , good nights sleep , healthy food and not drinking wine or overdosing on chocolate are what I’m meant to be doing to keep anxiety at bay. Not much fun though are they?

 

I can’t run when I’ve convinced myself I’m going to faint at any minute …and probably on the road…then I’ll get run over and killed… and then what will the kids do….Yes that’s my actual thought process during an anxious moment. Total pain in the arse.

 

I’ve never managed to stop that horrific pain through my stomach and my face going numb by eating kale.

 

How the hell am I meant to get a good nights sleep when I can barely breathe with the panic?

 

 

I know these tips are the sensible ones. Sometimes a run does blast away the panic , sometimes a long sleep stops the overthinking.

 

 

Over the years though  , I’ve gotten to grips with my anxiety to an extent. It’s personal to me and I know how to nip an episode in the bud quite often , I know how to calm myself . They may sound a bit odd but anxiety is a personal thing , there’s no one size fits all solution. Maybe some of mine may work for you . Here’s how I tell anxiety to just p**s off!!!

 

 

Phone calls to my sister.

If I’m feeling a bit wobbly , or I feel unsettled this is my go to activity. Chat , especially idle gossip and thoughtless chat is a distraction. Add to that my sisters familiar voice and calms me down.

I’m not suggesting you all ring my sister when you’re panicky , though as I always say if I could clone her I’d give you all a copy – she’s ace!!

Maybe if you have someone with whom you can partake in chit chat as a distraction though , a familiar voice , a calming influence though this could work for you .

 

Monday vlog indulgence

Could be a bit niche this one …stay with me.

Monday’s are always a pain in the bum aren’t they? A good start to a week though can do wonders for my head. I also love a vlog , I’m a blogger , I’m nosy why wouldn’t I?

Starting the week by watching Marian Keyes weekly vlog sets me up nicely for the week . She’s funny , she’s engaging, she’s pretty , she’s smiley ( I’m pretty sure the accent helps too) I am a big fan of her books and she’s a bit of a Twitter crush of mine if truth be told. Being told stories is another on the anxiety cheat sheet and well ,  Marian is as fab at telling stories verbally as she is writing them down. The vlogs start my Monday with a smile. In fact I recommend them (  link here : https://www.youtube.com/user/himselfkeyes) to all of you , even if you’re not quite as nutty as me!)

 

 

Joining in with small girl

My 8 year old does everything with zeal. There is no half hearted with her. On a wobbly day , taking a leaf out of her book and just joining in with her is as therapeutic as anything I know.

If it’s feeding the ducks we’re throwing the food as far as we can , if it’s drawing or colouring it takes every bit of focus we have. If it’s dancing it’s with every bit of our body.

It seems when I put my absolute all into any activity it’s really hard for my anxiety to take a grip on my mind.

 

 

Watching stand up

An obvious one really.

From the school of fake it ’till you make it!! If I’m laughing anxiety does not stand a chance.

 

 

Writing

Could be a blog post , could be a letter (yes I still write those – how quaint am I?)

More likely though it’s just a total mind dump into a notebook.

When I am anxious I overthink.

This never ends well for me , especially when it all just swirls around m mind like some kind of brain bothering hurricane. The reason I ever started this blog was because I’ve always found that writing down what bothers me helps . Having a million thoughts whizzing around this head each one causing another hundred in a anxious chain reaction means I’m not going to feel great. Picking up a pen , writing them down uncensored gets the thoughts out of the nutty mind and into a notebook where they become much less powerful. I can see how ridiculous they are written there in black in white.Then I can shut the notebook and walk away. It helps.

 

 

They’re little things , but sometimes little things help.

 

Do you have any little tricks that keep your anxiety in it’s place or that can calm you ?

 

I’d love to hear them.

xxx
 



My Facebook blog page is here 

 

 

 

 

 

She’s off on her soapbox again…

I am too.
I’m just so sickened and furious I can’t possibly not climb onto my soapbox. So forgive this long, rant post.
We currently live in a society where Tax Credits will only be paid for the first two children. I have thoughts on how we can meander into effectively being a 2 child state but they’re for another blog. I am aware that the welfare state is under excruciating pressure and that cuts have to come, again I’ve thoughts on why the cuts have to come from the poorest rather than the richest but again whole other blog post.
The one exemption to the 2 child law that is in place is if a third or subsequent child is “conceived as a result of rape or an otherwise coercive relationship”

All you have to do is fill in form NCC1 4/17 (an 8 page long document) to be assessed as to whether your rape counts or not.

Simple eh?

Nothing for you ladies to get your knickers in a twist about. The government are merely making sure they put a end to all those hoards of women getting themselves pregnant for benefits and one of those massive mansions some channel 5 documentary shows us they all live in.

I find this law abhorrent enough as it is. I can imagine many women having to struggle financially rather than go through the humiliation and reliving of a hugely traumatic event filling in the rape form then having to discuss it again with a third party.

The law itself isn’t what has me seething though (well it does but it seems I can get to a higher seething level). My issue here is that whoever dreamt up this Victorian, barbaric law and every person who signed it off along the way know nothing about domestic abuse and less than nothing about coercive control.

The thing that jumped out at me was that women still living with the father of children born through rape or in a coercive relationship are not allowed to claim this support.

So here we are at the first ridiculous notion. That if you are in an abusive relationship which, as they often do, include sexual abuse you are able to just pack up and leave. Now  even without taking into account the slashing of funding for women’s refuges, making it harder for those who are able to leave, there’s the simple fact that many women in abusive relationships can’t just leave. Here’s why I couldn’t.

Then we get to rape in relationships. The people who dreamt up this law are obviously those who are experts in how rape happens. They clearly think it’s exclusively something that only happens in dark alleys, by big scary monsters of men who attack strangers.

Rape doesn’t always happen in badly lit streets after dark. Sometimes it happens in a comfy bed, in her own home, by the man she loves.

Keep in mind too that a tactic abusive men use too is to keep a woman pregnant. Ensure she’s stuck in the house. Often she’s denied access to contraception as she’s not allowed solo doctors visits.

So the people at the top who make these laws. Well you’re doing the work of the abusive man for him here. You’re telling these women that you can’t be raped if you live with someone (he’s probably been telling her that for years) Then when he does impregnate her without her consent she’s going to struggle financially, trapping her further. Well done decision makers. Research a project called The Freedom Programme they’ve helped many a woman like me get to grips with their own abuse. I’m sure a little read could educate even the most ignorant.

The rape clause also tells us that children conceived as a result of a coercive relationship are also exempt from the 2 child policy.
Except again this women have to have left to count.

Sigh. .. .
Coercive control in its nature begins  so subtly you often don’t realise it’s even happening until it’s too late. You no longer question why you shouldn’t wear make up you just stop. You know you can no longer go out with your friends but are unsure how it got to that.
I can envisage many a scenario where coercive control in a relationship would result in pregnancy.
It’s the man telling his partner if she truly loved him she’d have a baby despite her not wanting one , after all doesn’t he live with the kids she already has by some other guy?
It’s the woman accused of having an affair because she doesn’t want to have sex. She knows from past history that line of questioning will likely end in violence so she lays and doesn’t protest whilst he has sex with her.
It’s the exhausted brand new mum, newborn by her bed whose partner is so jealous of all the attention she’s giving her baby. She’s sore, she’s exhausted, she certainly doesn’t want to participate but she’s told to just lay still and quiet so as not to wake the baby.

I could go on, but I’ve probably gone on enough. I just can’t understand the mentality behind this law in a country that considers itself forward thinking and free and fair.
I’m at a loss as to what I can do as a woman living in a country where the government shows such disdain for women’s rights and such a misunderstanding (or maybe a choice not to understand) how abuse works.
I feel for these women, abused by the person they live with then to have their experiences gaslighted by the government too.
I fear what comes next.

There’s a petition here against the cuts if you feel like I do. 100,000 signatures means this must be debated in parliament

My Facebook page is here

 

Shameless plug : If you like my nonsense and fancy nominating me in the #BiBs2017 you can do so just here http://www.britmums.com/nominate-for-the-bibs2017/

 

 

          The Tale of Mummyhood

A guest post from my First born

This is a guest post from my fab first born. I’ve been nagging  the kids to write for me for ages …. Parenting lesson there : nagging works.

 I’ve left it totally untouched despite itching to edit. .. Oh so I’m a pushy mother – old news! 




 
Whilst walking down the street, people cross the road in order to avoid me. They give me dodgy looks, tell their young children to avoid groups of us, we are of course, after all, extremely dangerous, each and every one of us. But which group of people am I being stereotyped and discriminated against for being a part of? I’m the worst of them all, I’m a dreaded TEENAGE

Hoodies up, we aren’t allowed to be warm you see, looking at our phones, heaven forbid the possibility that we’re keeping in contact with people, haven’t seen our parents in weeks, probably slipping each other drugs on the sly, we are really very intimidating.




I bet every single one of you has done it at one point, maybe it’s dark, you’re in an unfamiliar place, maybe walking home from a party and you see one of us, or maybe even worse, maybe we’re travelling in packs at this point, stalking the streets for pray and stabbing them with dirty needles.




What do you do? You turn the corner, you cross the road, anything to avoid having to have a confrontation with the rabble heading towards you.




How would you feel if someone close to you acted like that towards a black person? Surely you would be rightfully horrified, for all sensible people know you can’t judge someone by their appearance.




Maybe you don’t think I’m telling the truth, maybe I’m just being overdramatic, but is it a coincidence that security guards watch us like hawks, especially if we have one of those cursed hoodies on, possibly worse, if you’re really unlucky we might have had the cheek to put our hood up! (the horror!) There is no coincidence in the fact that mothers tell younger children to “come home if there are teenagers around” on their local park, I was told the same myself.




But when did it become acceptable to openly discriminate against a group of people in this manner? Even worse since when did such discrimination go unnoticed? Why should I feel pressured to not wear my hood up, to stay off my phone and not walk in groups, just to be seen as an ordinary human being and avoid such discrimination. When you talk to us you may be surprised to find out that we’re actually just people like you. Maybe we dress differently, maybe talk differently to you, but when did such minor barriers hold a cause for such a divide in society?




You know some of us have jobs, some of us play for sports teams, a couple of us even manage all of this, along with the stress and pressure of college, and the work load of that, I could go for pages and pages about the struggle of teenagers in this society we’ve built ourselves, but I’ll save you of that for now.




The one thing I hope you take away from this is to know that we notice. We notice your dodgy looks, your odd comments here and there. And as shocking as you may find this, it doesn’t make us feel too great about the older generations. It doesn’t make us feel particularly respected in the world we will soon be taking over. We were all teenagers once, so next time you send your young children to the park, don’t send them scared of the people they will one day become.

Date me! : I’m a chronic overthinker … 

Really, you’d have to be as nuts as I am to date me. My anxiety disorder often manifests itself in over thinking . I can work myself up into a frenzy about situations that are never going to happen. I can decide what OTHER people are thinking about me and make that fact in my mind. I grab hold of one comment someone has made and obsess over it relentlessly, make the highest  mountain of the tiniest molehill and it always ends with me being in a panic.

So I can either drive myself even more nuts worrying about it or I can laugh at how ridiculous I am at times.

I choose the latter.

It has become apparent that dating is the ideal place for my anxious  over thinking to thrive. Let’s face it, in this kind of scenario EVERYONE is trying to put the best version of themselves forward. You want to be liked. That’s how it works.

Poor unfortunate souls who date me though? They’re already fighting an uphill battle.

What he’ll say : You look amazing tonight

What I’ll take from that : aaaaw he fancies me! I’m rocking this dress!. ..errrrm hang on a minute. I look amazing TONIGHT? Has he been thinking I look rubbish every other time he’s seen me? Oh my! What on earth was I wearing last time? I must burn that outfit immediately.

What he’ll say : You can choose where we eat. I’ll eat anything.

What I’ll take from that: Ah how considerate, he knows I’ve odd little food ‘quirks’ … Oh wait, he obviously thinks I’m really high maintenance. He said he’ll eat anything – the undertone being that I’m a problem, my food dislikes are the barrier to us eating somewhere nice. He’s going to think I’m too much hard work and dump me!

What he’ll say : I’ve found us a new cocktail bar to try, you’ll love it.

What I’ll take from that : He’s so cute thinking of me when I’m not there.. .. although ‘us’? ? ? Did he just use’ us’? Bloody hell stop pressurising me, stop trying to encroach on my space you’ll be trying to move in next! While we’re at it-I’ll love it? ! Sure we’ve done cocktails often. Sure I’ve always raved about how much I’ve enjoyed it. Sure he’s been lovely enough to take time to get to know my likes and dislikes. Thinking he knows what I’ll love though? Cheek of it! Slow down Mr Telepathic!

What he’ll say : You’re fantastic to be around, I’m so relaxed around you.

What I’ll take from that : Yay! Yay! Hot guy thinks I’m great… Relaxed though? Relaxed? Is he saying I’m boring? Like he’s so ‘relaxed’ he’s borderline comatose because my company is so dull?

What he’ll say : I’ve got you a surprise!

What I’ll take from that : Ooo he’s so into me he’s getting me gifts! Eeeek this is awesome! Surprise though, WHY FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DOES IT HAVE TO BE A SURPRISE? It could be anything, what if it’s something I don’t like and I’ve gotten this whole scenario wrong thinking he really gets me to discover he really doesn’t? He knows about my anxiety, why is the word surprise even in his vocabulary?

– upon receiving lovely, thoughtful gift. .

Yes but what does it MEAN though?

*brain explodes*

I mean, I think I do quite well and manage to control the over thinking most of the time and I can certainly cover up the underlying rabidness but I’ve also come to accept this is just part of what makes me, me.
The right guy will find it endearing I’m sure.. Or learn to live with it at least. I have to! !


My Facebook page is here

 

Shameless plug : If you like my nonsense and fancy nominating me in the #BiBs2017 you can do so just here http://www.britmums.com/nominate-for-the-bibs2017/

 

Who am I? 

*Did you just sing the Les Mis song there in your head when you read the title? I have been! *

ANYWAY… Before I even begin this blog post I really want to emphasise that I love my children with all I have. I am even loving motherhood right now, I haven’t always and I can admit that. Currently though I’m really enjoying this part of our parenting journey. 
Being a mum does define me and so it should. My eldest is almost 17.  I’ve been mum a long time. Being a mum has certainly shaped me in a whole different way than I would have been had I not had children. In fact I think being a mum has made me a better person than I would have been. 

So we’re clear on that yes? 

I’d never dismiss motherhood. 

I’m certainly in no way complaining at my life as a mum. 

I am incredibly grateful and so very lucky to have the family that I have. 

The thing is this. Behind the mum-who on earth am I as a woman? 

Before I had children I was only 19. I’d had grand plans to change the world. Nowhere in these plans was any ideas of getting married and having babies. In fact the one steadfast plan I did have was never wanting children. 

I’m so glad plans don’t always work out. Having children allowed me to discover parts of myself I never even knew existed. 

My children are getting older now. The elder 3 are teenagers, the little one is almost 9.

Well meaning people keep commenting how how now is MY time. Time to take back my life, that the children don’t need me as they once did. 

I have a few problems with this mindset. Mainly the children do need me still. Not with the intensity of younger years admittedly. Parenting teenagers is tricky though, you have to pick up on cues that mean ‘I’m sad, I’m angry, I’m worried’ because they can’t always articulate it. Much like newborns  and  their differing cries that usually only their parents can decipher. Call me needy but I’m not redundant just yet. 

The other bits though? Taking back my life? Well that’s a weird one, the little people are my life. 

It is true though that I do have more spare time these days. This first week of the Easter hols has highlighted the two sides of the coin on this. I had 5 whole child free days! I had a weekend away. I had the most glorious time just wandering about, sitting in pubs chatting undisturbed. Relaxed- none of the rushing around my everyday life has, lazy lie ins. I couldn’t have enjoyed myself more. 

When I got home to a empty house though I was at a bit of a loss. Did the house jobs I’d been putting off, cleaned, cooked. Then what? 

What do I do to make me happy and content? 

What is it I actually like to do? 

Who even am I when the children aren’t around? 

I have a bolognaise scenario that sums it up perfectly (keep with me not as nutty as it sounds) 

One thing I do like to do is take a book and go for dinner on my own. If ever I go to an Italian restaurant my initial feeling is to order bolognaise, because I love it. 

UNTRUE 

The kids love it, it bores me to tears. The kids love it so I cook it, I eat it and somehow I’ve become indoctrinated into believing I love it. 

I wonder how many other things fit the bolognaise mould. What other things do I think I like that is really no more than mum habit. 

I want to discover who I am as well as the woman with the overactive womb. I want to find out and nurture a bit the woman behind the mum. (bit tosspotty I know, I’m sorry) 
I’m quite excited by the prospect too. 
Needless to say I’ll bore you guys to death with my little adventure of self discovery.. . after all it’s highly likely when I discover this woman, she’ll be a bit of a knob! ! 


Here’s my Facebook page 

Bringing up Georgia

<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
<a href=”http://www.motherofteenagers.com/&#8221; target=”_blank”><img src=”http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e14/Motherofteenagers/teen%20logo%20launch_zpsf7wwiqa5.jpg&#8221; alt=”Mother of Teenagers” /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />

My BFF boys…

There’s just 18 months between my 2 sons. They’re the eldest of the four children and have been one another’s playmates from the off. 

The minute my eldest met his baby brother he was besotted. Brother became his new favourite and most used word. He couldn’t quite manage to pronounce Luke so Guke he became – unfortunately for  Luke this has stuck and we do all still call him Guke from time to time. 

Now at 15 and 16 they’re proper friends. They really do get along and enjoy one another’s company. I can’t tell you how giddily happy this makes me. 

What was once playing with the wooden train set together has become playing X-box together. 
What was once playing in the garden as toddlers is now going off to play tennis or a kick about in the park! 
What was once sat on the sofa with snacks watching Cars… Well actually that’s still the same they bloody love that movie!! 

When they were pre schoolers playing together in their room I’d sometimes listen in from behind the door, so curious was I to know what kind of conversations they had(I know!  I know!  needy mum much?!!)  

Now when I’m pottering about I’ll pick up snippets of conversation they’re having. 

Chatting about football or mutual friends they share.  

I’ll hear eldest giving his brother advice about his GCSE options or helping him with homework. 

I’ll hear plans being made for cinema trips or a Star Wars marathon in their room. 

They both go to the football for home matches of the local team. They don’t go together but the eldest decided he was going to go to an away match. When I asked who with his answer was “I’m going to see if Luke fancies it” 

My initial thought was aaaww that’s the loveliest… It was speedily followed up with nooooo you guys can’t catch the train to a whole other city alone. They’ll get lost and end up stranded and.. .breathe .. How nice they want to do it together. 

 I’m just so full of joy that these boys brought together by genes and circumstance get on so well. 

As someone whose sister is my best friend and favourite human in the universe I just hope their lovely friendship continues.Having a sibling as a best friend is a special thing. On top of really enjoying one another’s company there’s so much shared history. There’s someone in your life who you can rely on wholeheartedly, who has your back, who genuinely wants the best for you. I feel lucky that my relationship with sister survived teenage years when we didn’t much like one another because now I have the best friend ever. 

I’d love to think in years to come my boys will feel that in their brother they will always have a friend, a refuge, an open ear and a positive influence. 

Of course the boys argue as siblings do. The ‘Stupid Football Game’ seems to be at the root of most of their quarrels. There’s a whole etiquette regarding when you can and can’t save games that goes way over my head. 

All in all though, these young men I’m lucky enough to be raising are a close little duo. 
I think that’s just the most special thing. 



My Facebook page is here

          Mummy Times Two

Naptime Natter

Mothers day hints for single mums

I’m not a fan of Mother’s day. It’s up there with Valentines day for making you feel a bit crap.
I don’t have a mum, I haven’t had for almost 18 years now and the whole Mothers day thing being shoved in my face does sting a bit. Being a single mum also means there’s going to be no day of being spoilt so really I could do without it.

HOWEVER the kids? They bloody love it!  They love making a fuss and so for them really we have to just smile through it.

I’ve been a single mum for getting on for a decade now and I have picked up some hints along the way to share with you.

1) Buy yourself a gift

There’s only one rule here. It doesn’t matter what the gift is but it has to be something you want not that you need! (I see you there thinking about treating yourself to a new iron – No. Not allowed.)

Can be something as simple as a box of chocolates or a trashy magazine. Just have a treat. I’ve tickets to see Wicked (yes again) this year. If you’ve older kids let them wrap it, they love that, it just might take all day day to get through the whole roll of sellotape that’s been used!

Extra handy hint:If you  do go down the chocolate route buy two boxes, you’ll have to share the first one with the little people, have a box B for when they’re in bed!

2) Breakfast in Bed

The kids love the idea of breakfast in bed. Obviously as a single mum this is not going to be a full English brought on a pretty tray after a lazy lie in until 10am. That’s OK, we are adaptable.

Buy croissants and orange juice. After you’ve gotten up at ridiculous o clock and seen to the kids, put on the laundry and more than likely watched more cbeebies than is mentally healthy you can make a big deal out of going back to bed and let the small people fetch pastries and juice. If you’ve older ones you can push the boat out to tea and toast, though you’ll probably have to remake the tea when you ‘get up’ as tea made by children is rarely good. In saying that I’m a bit picky with tea as it is and there’s probably only a handful of adults I’d trust with that job!

3) Take 10 minutes

I know this is way easier said than done but it’s Mother’s day, we’ve got to try and make ten mins peace happen. Let the kids have a bit of extra screen time (do not feel guilty  about it)  take the Sunday papers and a coffee and just sit for a little while. If you’ve a whole tribe of kids like me you can suggest to elder ones that doing a jigsaw with their sibling while you flick through a magazine would be a huge mother’s day treat and sneak a cup of (well made) uninterrupted tea.

4) Speak to a non single mum.

This may sound mean but make it one with a partner who’s not great. Don’t talk to the woman whose perfect husband let her lie in until lunch before waking her with their children clean and dressed before having a great family day. That woman is really lucky and we’re happy for her but being a single mum on mother’s day can feel a bit flat. You see happy families everywhere you turn, letting a mum who does have a partner but the only mention of Mother’s day she’s heard is him asking her what she’s got HIS mum rant will make you realise you’re not alone in your Mother’s day misery.

5) Take social media with a pinch of salt

For every #soblessed perfect family picture there’s rows and bickering children and too much washing and not enough hours in the day.

As single parents we may not have someone to to share the chores or help with parenting duties or even ask how our day’s been and that can be really tough and lonely. Really though all us mums, single or not, are just trying to do our best and not mess up too badly. Don’t let social media be a stick to beat yourself with.

Have a lovely Mother’s Day
You’re doing an amazing job.
You are enough.
You are irreplaceable.
You are entitled to a hot drink and a solo loo trip today!



Here’s my Facebook page

 

 

Mummy Times Two

 

I’m Going To The Blog On Mosi Conference Icebreaker…. 

​Hi everyone I’m Kelly. 

I blog at daydreams of a mum. 

I’m @daydreamer_mum on Twitter 

Blog on msi is my very first blogging conference. I’m still not sure I’ll dare actually go to be honest – images of being turfed out for not being a ‘proper’ blogger keep flitting through my mind! So this Icebreaker idea I thought was great!! 

Share a recent picture of you (if you are an anonymous blog, a drawing is fine)

Describe yourself in three words

Ridiculously absent minded

How long have you been blogging and what made you start?

4 years. I started as a therapeutic way to document my new life after domestic abuse. Only in the past year though have I been really trying at it as though people may actually read and joining in with the (brilliant) social side! 

What was the inspiration behind your blog name?

I’m legendary for my, they say dozy and gormless, I say daydreamy ways! Daydreams of a mum was born. 

(though I am also stuck with the Kelly and the kids name on wordpress as it looks a total faff to change.. .) 

What is the best thing to come from your blog so far?

Messages from other women who have been through abuse saying that reading my blog makes them realises it’s not just them who feel this way. 

Your most remembered thing from your childhood

Holidays at Butlins with my parents and sister 

Something interesting you might not know about me is . . .

I have a fish phobia-dead or alive they turn my stomach. I’ve never eaten fish in my life. 

Which social media platform best describes your personality and why?Probably Facebook as it combines my blog and writing about things that are really important to me AND bickering with my family! 

What is your happy song?

Flashdance!! 

What is your favourite alcoholic drink

Gin and tonic 

What is your favourite cake?

Aaargh not a huge cake fan! I know I know that’s weird, takes an exceptional one to get my attention 

What is your favourite takeaway dish?

Chicken jalfrezi , rice AND chips and aand chapatti. No I don’t know why my size 10 jeans no longer fit me either. 

Where is your dream holiday destination and why?

Private island in the sunshine! 

If you had a magical power, would you want to have and why?

Teleporting – because EVERY day on the  school run, small girl laments my lack of one and therefore making her legs ache! 

What one weapon would help you survive a zombie apocalypse?

Oh I’d be easy prey, I’m a huge coward! 

What would you have on your gravestone?

She was a bit daft but she did try to be nice

You make headline news around the world in 2 years time… but for what reason?

Oh I’m so clumsy, prob some viral vid of my trousers splitting or walking down main road skirt tucked in knickers or getting my hair trapped round a tree branch (all true stories) 

If an EMP wiped out all mechanical forms of transport, how would you get to BlogOn?

I’m lucky enough to be close enough to walk. .. It’d take a while but worth it I am sure! 

Can’t wait to read everyone else’s. I am the noisiest! 




Here’s my Facebook page 

A little relapse, a stumble backwards doesn’t mean back to square one 

I’ve had a weird couple of weeks

.

Nothing huge has happened, no trauma, no incidents of note.

I’ve just not felt ‘right’. I’ve not had a real anxiety attack for a while and none of the usual triggers were present. I could just feel it creeping up on me. That sinking feeling walking around ASDA, you know the kind you get  when you’ve messed up in a big way or forgotten something really important? You feel panic and nausea and dread. Well that feeling has been present intermittently for no reason at all.
The reassuring thing about my personal anxiety disorder is that it’s usually fairly predictable, but this was new. So I’ve spent  a couple of weeks permanently looking over my shoulder waiting for the prod that my anxiety was giving me to turn into the huge shake that usually follows.

Only it didn’t.

So of course this made me anxious. I was anxious that my anxiety disorder wasn’t presenting as I expected. Well played anxiety.

This escalated over the last few days into another classic of mine but one I really thought I’d seen the back of. The waking up in a morning, not even opening my eyes but already feeling my breathing pattern wasn’t right, feeling  dread and panic. It’s been a real nuisance and left me shaken a bit and unsettled.

Shaken and unsettled, in my case then trigger the big guns of my anxiety. Ridiculous thought patterns culminating in horrible self loathing and self doubt and all round a lot of thoughts about how rubbish I am.

Last weekend this little blog of mine had been read lots and I’d had the most lovely, flattering comments about it. Such positive words that ordinarily I’d have been proud as punch about. Now when this happened whilst anxious brain was in charge of things my thinking went more like this “Oh no people are saying nice things about my writing because they feel so sorry for me about how shockingly shit it is. That’s it I’m deleting the whole thing – who did you think you were anyway putting your nonsense out there? ? Why on earth would anyone want to listen to you? ”
I suppose one good part of knowing your own mind can go rogue on you from time to time is that I can acknowledge I’m anxious and never to make any decisions at that time!

 

I mean, I was feeling rubbish and hating on myself a bit so reached for the tortilla chips and salsa for comfort. Between the salsa jar and my mouth the salsa dropped  off down my pj’s. Now ordinarily I’d roll my eyes at my clumsiness and carry on. Not when anxiety brain is in the house though. Thought process then was “Oh for goodness sakes  you can’t even EAT now? Is there anything you can do you useless arse”  At this one I’ve got to admit once the feeling had eased I even managed to giggle at my own craziness! Tortilla related trauma, that’s a new one.

I talk often recently on this blog about how healed I am after the abusive relationship, how I’ve never been stronger mentally. This is true, really it is.

So then if I don’t document the slips, if I gloss over the hard times I feel like a bit of a fraud.

The thing I’m taking from this bout of crapness though is this-it’s a not a big disaster, not really.

A couple of hard, horrid weeks doesn’t mean I’m back to the beginning again. It doesn’t mean anxiety wins. It doesn’t mean all huge steps forward and the achievements I’ve made are wiped out.

I’m still here looking forwards, I’m still lucky enough that an anxious period is the rare thing not the 24 hour nagging noise that it once was.

I know it will pass
I’ve  stumbled.
I tripped, but I’m back on my feet now and surely it’s the continuing to get back up and try again that counts, it’s talking about the highs AND lows that helps.
So let’s keep trying.


Here’s my Facebook page 

 

Shameless plug : If you like my nonsense and fancy nominating me in the #BiBs2017 you can do so just here http://www.britmums.com/nominate-for-the-bibs2017/

 

A Thank You to the women who shaped me on International Women’s Day. …  

I’m so very lucky to have known many amazing women in my life. Ordinary women whose everyday life may not seem that extraordinary. Who may go through their lives not realising that they’ve impacted on another person. I dislike the thought of that. People have made a difference to me. I want them to know that, today more than any other surely has to be the time to say. 

It started as a kid. Surrounded by strong women who made being a mum and keeping an organised house and working look effortless. 

My mum, my grandma, aunties. Older cousins, my mum’s friends, my friends mums. Just these capable women who made life look easy. It’s only now as a mum and so called grown up that I can appreciate how much hard work and stress must have been going on behind the scenes to keep juggling all those balls. 

You made us all believe it was possible for us too, I’m grateful for that. 

To my teenage friends, the girls I grew up with. Some of those girls I don’t even know now but their influence has still shaped me somewhat.  

My teenage friends are the girls almost solely responsible for the fact that as a teenager I did have a healthy amount of self esteem and confidence in myself. I got such positivity from those girls and as we found our way around boys and exams and nights out (there were some brilliant nights out and thanks Al for keeping the unsuitable boys away) 
My dad died when I was just 15.You all called up and checked on me. I have a 15 and 16 year old myself now and that you girls had it in you to be so supportive so young is something again I can appreciate even more now than I did then. We were only young-bloody hell life had barely even begun to throw the kind of crap at us that the next couple decades would but your empathy was amazing. 

Years later when my mum died, you were all there again. I felt looked after and cared about and loved and at that time that was exactly what I needed. You took my sister under your wings like she was your own. I’ve probably never really told you all how you made the most shitty of times less so with your friendship. 

Thank you

I’m the worst at keeping in touch and I am sorry. I’ve got to be able to rectify that now the kids are getting older and I have that weird thing of spare time back! 

Let’s crack open the taboo and lemonade, grab a bottle of Metz (how nice was that stuff?) and relive our youth! 

To the friends I made when I ran from the abusive relationship. The one woman in particular who took me and made me feel less alone, who introduced me to her own friends knowing I didn’t know a soul. That kind of compassion has never been forgotten and I honestly think without your kindness and friendship there were times I’d have been tempted to run straight back. Again I’m so bad at keeping in touch and I’ve no excuse. Just know you kept a fragile woman semi sane. Thank you Janette you made such a difference. 

To the bloggers who inspire and amaze me daily, thank you for sharing your stories. In this crazy whirlwind that is life to feel like there are other women going through the same old crap as you is a powerful thing. 

To my mum friends – the Playground crew, the schoolyard mafia. 

You rock. 

You’ve all so much going on in your own lives and it’s kinda inspirational how you keep going day after day with a shed load of shit going on at the same time. I’ve never had school mum friends before, in all these years, what with my social anxiety and the fact I’m generally just not keen on many people when it comes down to it. In you guys though I feel like I’ve found my tribe (and my PA’s – organised Kelly is on her way-you just wait! ) 

Obviously then there’s my main woman. My best friend, fave adult human and sister who enhances my life immeasurably just by being around. You’re funny and kind and brave and I hope to be a little more like you when I grow up! 

Women. You’re the best! 
Thank you for being in my life and I will work harder on keeping in touch. 
All your amazing woman-ness (Yeah made up word I know) has played a part in shaping me into the  woman I am today.. . Yes. It’s all your faults!!! 
Xxxxxx