Me, my mental health and I…

May 11, 2017May 11, 2017 | blueskygirlie

Ostensibly this is a style blog – something to help you look and feel good, but in my experience neither is possible if you are not mentally healthy. This week is Mental Health week, an awareness week supporting people to open up about mental health, fight some of the stigmas associated with talking about mental health problems and to seek help if it is required. This years theme is to ask ourselves if we are ‘Surviving or Thriving?’ and seeing that a mental health problem will affect 1 in 5 of us in our lifetime, this week seemed a good week to share a personal essay about my own journey with my mental health…

I was always a happy child but an anxious one – I was the oldest and an overachiever from the minute I could talk. I think anxiety is born into you – maybe even an inherited trait, as I remember worrying about lots of things as a child and already having a sense of wanting to be perfect. Nowadays theres is lots of talk about safeguarding children’s mental health but in the 70’s and 80’s that kind of thing was practically non-existent, however there was also not as much pressure on kids at an early age like there is now. For some reason though I put pressure on myself. I remember getting ‘nerves’ and being ill when worried (about a big event or test for example), getting headaches, being sick or having stomach problems – all classic signs of an anxiety disorder. By the time I was a teenager and was at a high pressure girls-only grammar school, this anxiety was exhibiting almost every day. Did I get help? God no, I just hid it…I hid it really, really well and so began a pattern of behavior that I followed for most of the rest of my adult life.

Hiding a mental illness is not uncommon. Why do we do it? Well mainly its the stigma of saying you are ill, but not properly ill, just ill in the head. This is a totally ridiculous view of course but this is how you feel – people tell you to ‘pull yourself together’ or imply you’re making a fuss about nothing. Feelings of shame overwhelmed me and I became very good at hiding my issues. By the time I was 16 eating disorders were common at my all girls school and something that the girls there encouraged each other to have. Having already developed an unhealthy relationship with food I was overweight so opted for Bulimia – it really was that simple. I first foray into a proper mental illness – I crashed dieted then binged and purged… I lost weight and everyone praised me and told me how good I looked. It was a strange irony, I was ill on the inside but deemed as looking great on the outside. My periods stopped, the enamel started to come off my back teeth, I had a scar in my hand from making myself sick and when my parents at their wit’s end called out the doctor and I started to realise I couldn’t live like this – I was eating ice cream for breakfast and then not drinking a Diet Tango because it had 3kcals in it rather than Diet Cokes 1kcal. Ultimately as a form of self-preservation I came to my senses and stopped the purging…it really is the most awful, destructive, disgusting illness but my issues with not feeling good enough, being anxious and my warped self-image never really went away.

After I left school I started working as a window dresser in London in a creative whirlwind of fun, partying and no real responsibilities. It was the early 90’s and we were fuelled by alcohol, ecstasy and the energy of youth. Ironically even with all this hedonism they were some of the happiest and least anxious years of my life – but then earning decent money and living at home, real life hadn’t really begun for me yet…its like I was playing at being a grown-up, but we all know those days cannot last. And they didn’t – by the time I was 21 life suddenly got very dark.

When I had my first panic attack I honestly thought I was dying. I had experienced the sudden death of someone very close to me and was deep in the confusion of grief, loss and utter devastation. There was help around me – my worried parents paid for private counselling, my GP offered me Prozac and Valium and friends rallied round me but I just wasnt ready to help myself. As I limped out of this terrible experience my anxiety gripped hold of me as it did again 3 years later when my father died suddenly and I headed through my 20’s and then into my 30’s suffering from different types of anxiety disorders. My reliance on food as a comfort continued too and my weight ballooned leaving me morbidly obese by the time I was 30. My mental health was all over the place – I gained and lost the same 3 stone at least 3 times each time not being able to keep myself on a steady path. I also became better and better at hiding the cracks in my mental health – I was always bubbly and confident, well presented, I held down a good job, was in a long-term relationship and created a beautiful home but on the inside I was fighting myself…and my panic all the time.

At 33 I had my son. I desperately wanted a child and when he was born he was just perfect and I instantly fell in love. I was lucky, unlike many other mothers I didn’t suffer from post natal depression and recovered quickly from the birth. Having my son made me, probably for the first time in my life, put someone else first. He changed everything, because although I still worried (mainly about him) I couldn’t focus on myself all the time, over-thinking and obsessing, and slowly my anxiety started to dissipate. Back at work full-time with my husband staying home to look after our son I decided I wanted to start to take the control back in my life. Within a year or so, I had achieved everything I set out to do but something didn’t feel right and my old enemy, anxiety started to rear its ugly head again. Migraines, sudden sickness and panic attacks become a regular occurrence but you would never of known it. I knew in the back of my mind what was wrong but decided it was better to ignore it. It’s amazing how long you can ignore your own problems but ultimately in the end you realise it is killing you slowly and by the end of my thirties I realised I was wasting my life – I felt like a zombie. After much soul-searching, in quick succession I left my husband (it had been an unhappy and unhealthy relationship for some time), I took redundancy from my senior creative role and sold my house, downsizing my lifestyle considerably. I totally changed my life.

As I entered the most stressful stage of my life I had experienced so far, at the beginning panic gripped me everyday but I fought it and the mere fact I was creating positive change made it easier and easier to control. I removed toxic people from my life, simplified how I lived and I started exercising at the age of 40. Exercising has completely changed my mental health. Gone are the panic attacks, I still get anxious about things, sure, but exercising seems to quell my demons, helps me think and fills me with endorphins. After building up my fitness using the app C25K I now run 5k three times a week every week. I have a very loving, supportive new partner, a great work/life balance and finally the understanding that I must be proactive and responsible for my own mental health. No-one else can do this for me – I wanted to change my life so I did. It wasnt easy but it was worth it.

I now know the warning signs when things are getting too much and I speak freely to the people around me about how I am feeling. If I’m getting stressed I tell my loved ones and seek their support. I refuse to be ashamed anymore – my anxiety disorder is just as much part of me as my green eyes are, but I will not let it own me. I control my life, I control my health and I control my happiness. I have made a conscious choice to be happy and I can say I am happy in my life now – truly happy. However there is no real end to this story – I will live with my anxieties in some shape or form for the rest of my life but I will not be beaten by them.

Find more about Mental Health week here and find links to my other blogs on my mental health below, I hope you find some things in them that are useful –

My weight
My self esteem
Exercise
Being called ‘fat’

If you need help speak to someone – a friend, family member, your doctor or call one of the many helplines available. You are not alone.

The Strange Case of Self Doubt & the Confident Girl

January 13, 2017January 18, 2017 | blueskygirlie

Have you been watching the new series of Sherlock on the BBC? Well I’ve got a case for you to investigate mystery lovers…

This is me: at 43, I’ve studied hard, I have been travelling, I’ve worked at some of the best places in my profession; I have been married, I’ve been divorced, I’ve done it alone, I’ve created a blended family a fantastic new partner; I’ve forged a great career (although its now taking a backseat while I do the whole primary school thing), I’ve owned my own business; am a mother and step mother, bought and sold houses, chose to change my life and drop 6 dress sizes and generally aim to embrace life and all it offers. I travel, love having new experiences, care deeply for those I love and am always the life and soul of any party.

But I am still wracked with that pointless emotion…self doubt.

Maybe you suffer from it too? Its definition is this –

SELF DOUBT [self-dout] noun

lack of confidence in the reliability of one’s own motives, personality, thought, etc.

It is a strange thing to be seen as so confident and bubbly by everybody, as they seem to think you are never not confident as if you are a non-stop fun machine. I myself am a person of extremes – put me in front of a crowd and ask me to perform and I am in my element, but looking at a person on Facebook who has ignored my friend request will reduce me into a state over-thinking.

“They must hate me” I think.

“Maybe I’ve done something to upset them?” I ponder.

Is it because I’m too loud / odd / fat / fit / obsessive / dreamy / pretty / ugly / bullish / fussy / common / snobby / ethnic / funny / miserable ? etc etc – delete as necessary.
I have always been a worrier. I will worry about anything and everything and again those niggling little thoughts can creep in – the ‘what ifs’… Suffering from any form of anxiety can be crippling at times but I believe telling people about it is half the battle, particularly if you’re good at hiding it. In my 30’s I suffered quite badly with anxiety and panic but ultimately I had to acknowledge that the only thing holding me back from living the life I wanted was me. It was a watershed moment and I changed my life – big time…but thats for another blog. I still get anxious about things of course but I do not and will not let it control me. (as an aside I’ve found regular exercise key in making this change to my mental health)

Being a mum can make self doubt rear its ugly head far too often too. “Am I doing the best I can?” I ask myself as I rush from work, via the school run to after-school swimming then rewarding my son with dinner out as a reward as he passes into the next swim group. Of course I am, but its easy to look at people around me particularly via the rose-tinted glasses of social media and think – “Wow they’ve got it all under control…activities every night after school and perfect children, maybe we should start violin lessons and I should stop letting the kids go on the computer so much”. However once you start comparing your life to others lives you will never stop…and probably total madness would follow!!! My mantra is now “I am doing the best I can and I am good enough.”

Ah social media. As someone who works in marketing and uses it everyday in my role, I can see the good it can create but I also think social media is a particular issue our parents did not have to deal with; whether its the Facebook show offs, the people trying to tell you how to parent or the general taboo of admiting that sometimes life and motherhood is really bloody hard, I’m learning to take it all with a pinch of salt and remember… however much it is presented as reality it is not actually real life!

I was recently picked for a fabulous opportunity – to film an advert for Garnier Olia hair dye and be the face of their Intense Red shade 6.60 for 2017. All the attention, praise and compliments was really quite humbling and its really nice to see yourself through other peoples eyes…in fact it is quite amazing. Not only was I feeling good about how I looked, I was suddenly being told how well I had done, how proud I should be of myself, and you know what, the more they said it the easier it was to feel it.

I compliment people all the time but find it hard sometimes to accept a compliment or praise graciously, as if I am embarassed by the fuss. I wonder why that is, why it feels like showing off when it is, in fact, just being proud? It is one of my proudest moments so far and has definitely helped me stop telling myself “you can do better!” quite so much!

Being in a TV advert definitely helps you get used to really focusing on how you look which is usually the time when that self doubt can creep back in for me. When you photograph yourself all the time for your blog it seems strange to say you suffer from worrying about how you look, after all how I look is a big part of the blog. It is a ‘chicken and egg’ situation as one of the reasons I started blogging was to help my self esteem and it has been very good at helping that – generally people are very kind and supportive and I have not come across many trolls. But do I look in the mirror and love what I see? Well lets just say I am working on it…

So what has this bubbly, mainly extravert; worrying, sometimes introvert actually learnt? I have realised I am far too hard on myself and really need to give myself a break – we all do. We were the generation that was told we could ‘have it all’, but that is pretty much impossible. We must make our choices and pick our battles and celebrate each success however small. It is ok to not get everything right, in fact to learn and develop it is a very necessary thing. The key for me is to keep trying, to never give up and to try and be the best version of me I can be.

So I continue on my lifes journey trying as best I can to banish this pointless, undermining emotion and remember the amazing journey I have taken to get here – to this exact point, with all its ups and downs, its failures but also its many successes – it is this exact journey that has made me, me!

I’m realising I am the only me I’m gonna get and you know what, I’m pretty damned good at all this life stuff.

I’m still wondering my that person on hasn’t accepted my Facebook friend request though…

The F Word

November 19, 2016November 19, 2016 | blueskygirlie

*warning this post may have triggering effects linked to food or weight issues*

Hi, I’m Sarah and if you follow this blog you will know that I am a generally cheerful, confident, fun person. You will also probably know that I have lost a lot of weight (I was a size 20/22 at my largest) and have to work hard to stay a size 12 by trying to watch what I eat and running 5k three times a week. It is not easy.It has taken me quite a while to like myself again but my body image is still a constant struggle and this blog, in part, is a tool to embrace my flawed, curvy, 40plus figure as seen by my super critical eyes. I had a eating disorder as a teenager and still have a complicated relationship with food and my body – to try to help, I follow quite a few plus size bloggers, those who embrace their size, love their bodies and are part of the #effyourbeautystandards movement. I admire them and their confidence but I cannot feel like them sadly. Being morbidly obese was a prison sentence for me and although I seemed confident I suffered terribly from anxiety, was physically in a bad place with various aches and pains and I hated myself.

So why am I telling you all this?

Well last week during an arguement with a stranger (a man) I was called ‘fat’. I was also called a bitch, stupid, a ho and various other insults but ‘fat’ was the one that really hurt. It got under my skin and wounded me more then any other insult and it made me think – why do people still use it as a low blow insult? A word that is used to hurt and belittle, particularly towards women.

Forgetting the fact the man saying it looked like the back end of a bus (and was hardly an Olympian himself) once that word was said I felt awful, insecure, and yes, fat. I felt ugly. I felt weak. He had told me in his eyes I was…what? Unattractive to him? Not the perfect body shape? Imperfect? Erm – who cares! But sadly I did care.

At my sons school they are taught the word fat is a hate word, as abusive as a swear word or racial slur and if he hears me using it he tells me off. This gives me hope that using the word to attack and hurt and undermine will end with our generation.

Body confidence is hard – every time I go on a run I put myself out there. Dressed in skin tight lycra it is scary to exercise in front of the world. It not just the actual running that’s hard, its fear of being watched, insulted, maybe even hurt…I’d say pretty much every month I get catcalled by men in cars/lorries bleeping their horns etc – they seem to think thats a compliment. Doing it every other day, regardless of those fears takes guts.

So am I going to stop eating cake? Hell no! Not run in public? I’m fitter than I’ve ever been so, sorry, no. Starve myself for an ideal I can never reach, one that is perpetuated by photoshopped images anyway? My body has done amazing things – it carried a baby, it can run for miles, ticked amazing places and experiences off my bucket list, kept me fit and healthy and my boyfriend seems pretty keen on it too!

What I do need to do is make sure that my confidence in both my inner self and the body people can see (and judge) is greater than any throwaway line or joke. I need to hear the words when the people who care about me tell me I am beautiful and loved and perfect in their eyes. NO-ONE male or female has the right to make you feel bad about the way you look…and the key is knowing they are not just wrong, but that they are the weak ones, the insecure ones, the ones that truly hate themselves. I need to remind myself of this statement –

So another pathetic human being goes on their way thinking they’ve won because they have said some throw away insult which is not based on anything apart from wanting to hurt. But you know what? People like that will never break me – I am more than words, more than their twisted ideals, more than their insecurites – I AM ME…AND AM PRETTY DARN FABULOUS!!!Find my blogs on my fitness and running here, here and here.