A face of hope

I'm trying not to feel silly as I write this. I suppose every post I write about mental health I have to make sure I don't feel silly. I'm going to write through the heartbreak and the voice which convinces me that no-one is going to listen.

One voice I'd like to have more of is that little voice inside my head encouraging me to make a mess on the page. It's the one which, out of no-where, urges me to write thousands of words down amongst the millions of thoughts which pitter patter in my mind. I need to be a face.

Most of the time I'm frozen to the spot by my thoughts, lately they've been of excitement and happiness. I'm also frozen by fear, hopelessness and overwhelment. However, my intentions and what I intend to achieve are never going to be real If I continue to trap myself in a mind circle. I quite easily convince myself that this box is right- it's only when I step out of it I realise I was so so wrong. I repeat this same mistake over and over again.

I must put more ideas down, I must speak up. I think deep down I'd like to become a face, a sign of hope, a voice, a representative. I want to do more in the name of mental health and If I don't stand up for this 'taboo', who will?!

There are several tips and methods I try to follow when there are good days and when there are bad. The ways I try to follow to put less pressure on myself. Instincts. Lesser the mind battles. Something I've been doing for quite some time is capturing, what some could accuse as looking for attention... Though, for me taking pictures of myself on the good days really help. I'm not looking for comments and most of the time I store them away for no-one else to see. Sometimes I take pictures on the bad days-these happen less often because if you are dealing with depression or other mental health conditions, it's rare you want to see yourself looking sad. Most of the time you feel too ugly anyway. I've got a picture I found today which I took of me on my 23rd birthday. I've also got a picture I took on the year anniversary my mum died. I glance back at the physical changes, whether weight has fluctuated (comfort eater number 1!) and if I can see signs of stress in other physical areas too.

On my birthday I said to myself 'I am capturing this!'. There was no-way I could leave this happy day behind. It was odd as it was the first birthday without my mum alive, but the love and amazing messages I received from the people I know really made a difference. It was an unforgettable day, a day when I thought 'finally this is what life is when it's good and when it seems less scary'.

I avoided pictures so much when I was a teen. I hated myself. I hated my face. You just want to scribble yourself out, never feeling good enough for anyone, anything. It's like an endless feeling you're too scared to end, but at the same time you don't want to accept either. It sounds vain, but capturing a picture when I am happy at least gives me something to look back on so I can say, 'oh I was happy there, that's me, I can do it, it's achievable, I'm allowed to feel good'.

So, here's a pic I took of myself this year on my 23rd birthday. I had a chilled morning eating posh raspberry jam on toast (a lovely present from my housemate), I tried on dresses which I don't go anywhere to wear, and never used to feel good in (I put on two stone and now have lost it), and taking snaps of my beaming face. Here I am naturally happy.

OK so it's a slightly bashful pic (but I'm well chuffed with my hair in this one!) and that day led to a lovely welcome in work, my life long friend (pretty much a sister) coming to London just for me (and she bought me breakfast!) and dinner in the evening with a new group of friends...

Things have changed a lot since then, but I'm still here. I'm still trying. I might not want to take a picture of myself today, but at least I know that there are days in the future I will want to take a picture of myself. I know this because there's been days like the above in the past, I've made myself happy, I can do it and I will.

Saturday morning

It means one thing. BREAKFAST!

Kettle on, I whiff the new bag of origin coffee that arrived in the post this week. I'm feeling something cheeky, the last rock cake stares at me from the cupboard.

I always wake up on a Saturday morning thinking, 'oh my god what day is it, what time is it, am I late?!'. I work shifts and if on the early one, there are publishing deadlines where a late bus commute could not be forgiven. Thankfully I check the time and it's 7:50am, quite an achievement to wake up this time on Saturday. Usually, if during the week I've been waking up at 5am, I wake up at 6am on the first day off.

Excited about the opportunities that will come from this day, my coffee is brewing nicely, I'm wrapped up in my usual morning style of sweats tucked into fleecy socks and hair tied high on my head into a pineapple. The sofa is calling and I crawl under the velvet throw. Finishing of the documentary I started last night (and began to 'watch' with my eyes closed-post 10k run tired!) already I've learned how cornflakes were made and discovered, and have squealed in delight that 'if we spend 3 hours over dinner, why not spend 3 hours over breakfast'. I believe that HAS to be the perfect quote of the day :)

What have you had for breakfast?

Enjoy Saturday!

Awesome awesome awesome weekend

Homemade curry and chapatis
Brixton Village, Federation coffee and granola breakfast
Street Dance Class
Baking flapjacks and rock cakes
Drinks at the flat - new and old friends :)
Fun singalong dance times at the White Horse
and easy Sundays, lounging in bed, binge eating on cakes and falling in love with Alt J.

Monday has already started well with my amazing plum maple pecan porridge! Our department has also been treated to coffee by one of the analysts :D Americano yes please :)

Brain food!

Breakfast time 27.10.12

I feel happy and it's weird and I don't know what to do with it and now I'm stuck to the sofa.

I don't think it's an indifference. I mean I feel excited, I feel ready, I feel energised. I feel like I can make a choice. My brain feels like a circular train track going round and around and around. Perhaps throwing a dart in the centre will balance it all out. I could sit here all day, in a box, a mental box. I can twiddle with my thumbs and lie still because I feel safe and nice and I'm being held in place. The mania will kick in soon. The manic nice moods where I can jump up and down like a pogo. Last night was wonderful. I ate, I managed to eat! I ate more than I could usually and had no consequence. Mentally it was fine. Mentally I allowed it. I jumped like a pogo and we danced on the fluffy rug, we didn't care about neighbors.

Outside it looks beautiful. Blue skies, orange leaves and fresh air waiting to be exhaled. I have to capture the moment. I have to write it down, I'm already scared it's going to go away. Time will disappear. I might not feel this good anymore. I might not have this time to myself. I feel quite lucky.

I woke up feeling like it was Christmas. Tucked up in bed, radiator ticking, expanding with the heat. With my eyes closed I imagined what I would discover, kitchen sounds rattling, dressing gowns and warm lighting. I wake up looking like Mowgli, birds nest on my head and panda eyes. If I had it my way, I'd walk downstairs to find her in the kitchen. Sky blue dressing gown and a curly mess, hair sticking out on top in snakes and wires, glasses on and BBC radio 2 settling in the corner. She liked putting the cupboard up-lighters on to make an atmosphere, even though it was light outside we wasted the electricity, it reflected nicely on the counter. I hear slippers scuff on tiles and the toaster pops. Smells of white toast crunching under the butter knife, golden blankets spread. My big square lounge and over sized red sofas, I curl up in the corner. I always liked to look out at the trees. I really love trees. Mum would join me, sitting in her usual spot. We drank tea from Denby mugs and ravished in our moment of peace. The morning. Breakfast. Our time together.

Calm before the storm-ish

Something from this morning.

I've had my breakfast and a great cup of Origin coffee, I've read some of my favourite blogs and have noticed it's stopped raining outside. To most this would feel like an amazing start to the day.

I'd say the morning is my moment of bliss. It's usually my calm before the storm. At times, once my alarm has set off, my stomach drops, not because I'm going to work but because I'm still alive. The morning is the time of the day where I have 'space' to myself, where I am me, on my own. It's where I usually... feel my best. If the shift pattern permits I dance around the flat, prep my lunch, prep myself and put some music on to motivate me. Soon my hands are turning into fists. I keep biting my bottom lip. My legs are shaking, restless. Whilst looking out of the window I imagine walking to the tube, I realise I've been holding my breath the whole time.

It seems madness I know, I mean how can something so simple trigger a mountain of overwhelment. In a situation like this I have to focus on the facts- nothing is wrong. So why all the anxiety?

Truth is, once I'm out and I get to work I suppose I'm a little relieved once I've reached my destination. Anxiety thrives from routine. It thrives from keeping to what you know. There's a place I need to get to, boom and I'll head that way. However this routine for me is more time spent on my own. It's more time alone by myself and my thoughts - yet in public. Things that help are listening to music and a new one I've discovered, reading a book. Practicality. The side effects of anxiety: torn thumbs, headaches, breathlessness, shaky legs, restlessness, sickness, mood swings, hunched shoulders and however many more I could list.

I suppose this is why mental health is so hard to understand. It's like having a constant cold but no-one else can really see it. Sure the side effects are physical, sometimes they can be quite easy to hide.

You know what you're talking about girl

Buns. Simple. You make them big and doughy, icing with a cherry on top. None of this glazed sweet sugar syrup crap from greggs.

I double dare you to find something this 'home grown' in London. When you find it, please bloody tell me!

Rock your spurtle for World porridge day

It's breakfast time, whilst sticking to my passion I thought I'd give you a little heads up, on the 10th of October it's World Porridge Day!

Enjoy your porridge and also help those at Mary's Meals:

'World Porridge Day aims to raise awareness of the role that porridge plays at Mary’s Meals projects in Malawi, where a daily mug of maize-based ‘likuni phala’ is an incentive for children to go to school.'

Sometime I have mine with brown sugar, sometimes I have it with maple. Sometimes I have it with banana and cinnamon and sometimes I have it with a load of berries and nuts like a birdie.

How do you have yours?


Porridge!!!

Breakfast in pictures

I'm very please to share the BBC's pictures to represent breakfast time.


You know you want to sing the song...

Our breakfast room

If only.

Nana and Hollie heaven.

 

 

 

Four days

I've had such an amazing four days of family time and exploring. The Dorset coast is so beautiful and it's so nice waking up in green instead of concrete jungle London!

There have been mornings of breakfast perfection along with endless cups of tea and coffee. I even had a strawberry and white chocolate muffin left for me on my bed (must be the new chocolate kiss pillow trick). Now my next 7 day adventure starts with my Granparents, which I'm extremely excited about. They are so on top of things they ask what I would like for breakfast before I go to bed...

I love them :)

From Dorset knobs to stories from the knobblies... (I don't think they'd appreciate that twist on 'wrinkly')

I won't tell if you don't!

  Lyme Regis

The Tickled Pig breakfast

(life gets better when you see ducks!)

Sandacres

Duck eggs

Today's breakfast, Eggs royale with duck eggs and a side of bacon. Black coffee. Boom.

Yum yum yum.

(no pictures, I didn't want to waste time staring at these bad boys...)

Back home

I've surprised myself and for the first time in a very long time, this place in South West Wales really does feel like a home.

Also, it's great waking up to a full fridge containing exactly what I need, especially when it's nutritionally spot on. Food just appears because... someone else is bringing it home! It's like being looked after without too much thought.

Today, I woke up to this (post request) 1KG tub of pro biotic natural yogurt. Cheers Step Dadda.

I'm sure all of my photography friends are shuddering at the quality of my pictures!

Enjoy the day and your breakfast.

Start your day with a large hot sausage

I see this everyday and it always makes me laugh, even at stupid o'clock in the morning...7am (after waking at 5am...).

The joys of publishing.