by Fiona likes to blog | Nov 22, 2016 | DEPRESSION
Depression and guilt go hand in hand for many people. Let’s get one thing straight; you’re not to blame for your mental illness! Just like you wouldn’t be to blame if you contracted pneumonia or developed arthritis. The mind and body are open to injury and it’s nothing to feel guilty about, but I know from experience it’s not that easy. Here are some things you definitely need to think about…
Receiving gifts
I was thinking recently about how painful it was for me to receive birthday and Christmas gifts just after I was diagnosed with depression. Being unable to work meant I couldn’t really afford to buy for others, and I felt like I hadn’t earned the right to be given gifts or celebrate at all. My friends and family wanted to do anything to make me feel better, and giving me presents was their way of showing that. I know it’s really hard but try and accept any gifts you are given and see it as a symbol of support from those who care. If you’re someone who is struggling to buy gifts for someone check out my recent gift guide.
Taking time off
One of the main reasons I took almost 4 years to recover from mental health problems is that I struggled on at work for months without taking any time off. I didn’t realise just how serious my condition was – or that it existed at all – and so I continued to put myself under immense stress during a time when I should have been resting and allowing my mind to recover. It wasn’t until I finally did get signed off work that I realised how bad my symptoms were and that I would need months to recover. It’s natural to feel incredibly guilty about this but unfortunately it’s the only way for many people to recover.
Being seen ‘out’ when you’re unable to work
I was talking to a friend recently who has been signed off work with anxiety, and she was expressing concern about visiting the hairdresser whilst on sick leave. Essentially she was worried that she didn’t have the right to be out doing things in case it got back to her employers. Remember this; the reason you’re off sick is because you are unable to work. This doesn’t necessarily mean that you’re unable to get on a bus, go to the supermarket or go to the hairdressers. For me, work was actually contributing to my illness so it was essential that I stop doing it immediately. Going to the gym on the other hand, was easing some of the symptoms, lifted my mood and helped me get to sleep at night. Going out and doing the things you’re comfortable with is so extremely important to your recovery and should not be avoided for fear of ‘being spotted’.
Forgetting important dates
Did you know that depression is linked to short term memory loss? Don’t feel bad if you forget that you made plans with someone yesterday or you can’t remember what time your doctors appointment is. Before I was diagnosed with depression I was finding it really hard to remember what I’d done from one day to the next, especially at work. I ended up relying on a stupid amount of ‘to-do’ lists which were synced up to my calender and my phone and it all got very overwhelming. It’s totally normal to forget things and it doesn’t make you a bad person.
Eating convenience foods
Whilst living on Pringles and Pop Tarts isn’t the best advice I can offer you, there’s certainly a bit of wiggle room when it comes to eating the perfect diet when you suffer from depression. If like me, you’ve struggled mentally with dieting for most of your life then the will power to resist eating processed foods whilst fighting a depressive episode will be non-existent. There is a lot of great information out there on what foods are helpful in terms of brain chemicals and blood sugars, but don’t put too much pressure on yourself to eat well all of the time. That just comes with a whole other bag of problems that you don’t need, so eat as often as you need to satisfy your hunger and try to incorporate fresh fruit, vegetables, whole grains and healthy fats as much as possible.
Not convinced? Check out this helpful post I found called 5 ways to overcome guilt in depression.
by Fiona likes to blog | Nov 10, 2016 | ANXIETY, DEPRESSION
I’ve just returned from a busy weekend in Scotland. It was our first visit back home since we moved to Birmingham and I was really excited to see my friends and family for the first time in 4 months. Unfortunately for an introvert like me, being constantly on the go for 72 hours turned out to be kind of a drag. I knew my time was limited with everyone, but after the first day my mind was so exhausted that I could barely hold a conversation or stay awake.
Combine my solitary nature with mental health issues and you’ve got someone who appears to be extremely moody and rude for a lot of the time. I’ve said I’m sorry again and again. I feel like it’s out of my control. When I feel a low mood creeping in, it climbs onto my back and digs its claws in. It doesn’t let go and then I feel anxious about how I appear to other people.
I know there are people who can’t understand this at all. But I also know there are people out there who know exactly how it feels. Here’s what’s going on in my head most of the time:
I don’t have the strength to talk
Holding a conversations when I’m drained, depressed and on edge with anxiety is near impossible. I’m caught in that horrible contradiction of being fatigued but my body is often producing a lot of nervous energy. Sometimes making small talk is just too hard.
I have nothing nice to say
When my depression sets in I feel like the world is a bad place. I suddenly think I can see everyone for who they really are; they’re all pretending to be happy, nothing is worth the effort and we should all just give up immediately. If I’m in this frame of mind and you ask me what shade of lipstick looks best then I won’t have anything helpful to add to the discussion so I try to just keep my mouth shut.
I’m concentrating on not freaking out
It might look like I’m just grumpy and quiet but secretly I’m scanning the room for potential anxiety inducing situations. Where are the toilets? Are those drunk people going to talk to us? How are we going to split the bill and do I have enough money? Are you going to ask me something I can’t answer? Am I going to look stupid?
I feel like I’m not enough
If this scenario continues on for more than a few hours and I feel like it’s obvious to other people then I tend to feel like a bit of a failure. Why can’t I just fake being polite for one day? Why can’t I think of one single thing to talk about? Why do my friends and family even want me around? I don’t deserve them. I’m such a waste of space.
I’m feeling guilty
When I start to feel like I’m cramping everyone’s style I am plagued with guilt. I feel like I’ve ruined the day, wasted everyone’s time and been a crappy friend/daughter/sister. Even when people tell me it’s not my fault I find a way to convince myself that I should be able to control my moods better or get better at pretending to be OK.
If I come across as rude to you, I’m so sorry. I’m working on it.
by Fiona likes to blog | Oct 31, 2016 | DEPRESSION
I told some of my friends that I had depression as soon as I got diagnosed. The reason being; I knew I couldn’t hide it from them any more. My mood was unpredictable, my actions out of character and I was unfit for work. As far as my Facebook friends were concerned however, I was fine and dandy! I didn’t want to tell the whole world about my problems back then, but I knew my best mates had to be kept in the loop. It was hard. I felt embarrassed. Like I’d failed as a human and that I was somehow now using an illness as an excuse for not being able to cope with life. I know now that my inability to cope was merely a horrible symptom, and admitting I needed support was my first step on a long and winding road to getting my happiness back again. From my own personal experience, here’s my advice….
Be prepared for varied responses
A lot of people think that their inner turmoil is clearly visible to people on the outside. The telltale sighs of depression like being reclusive, feeling agitated, loss of appetite and inability to concentrate may feel acute and painfully obvious to you but don’t be surprised if none of your friends have been concerned about your well being.
It’s not that they don’t care, but simply that your symptoms haven’t been brought to their attention. They may think you’ve seemed different, but we all go through bad spells that aren’t necessarily linked to mental health concerns. So be prepared for your friends to be kind of surprised that you have some problems of that nature.
On the other hand, some friends might be overbearing; they might ask really in-depth questions about your health, thoughts, feelings, medical advice and medication. Some friends want to help ‘cure’ you and will offer you advice that might seem patronising, such as “maybe you just need to let your hair down” and “you should go on holiday”.
Try and be appreciative. I know it’s hard. Even if they don’t understand fully what you’re going though it’s good that they want to help. They might find this post helpful.
Give them time to process what you’re saying
If your friends have never dealt with someone who has been diagnosed with depression then they might be really uncomfortable when you start talking about your problems. Try not to be offended if they seem standoffish or act like it’s not a big deal. You know it’s a big deal and you’re trying to get better so that’s all that matters.
Give them time to listen to what you have to say. Let them go home and talk to their partner or family about the subject (they don’t necessarily have to mention your name) so that they can make sense of what you’re going through and consider their own actions.
Being friends with someone with mental health issues can be kind of scary. They might not know what to say or how to act around you because they are worried about upsetting you or making your condition worse. This is nothing to feel guilty about, just believe that if they are a real friend they’ll do what they can to help comfort you.
Think of one way they can help you
Before you bring up the subject have a think to yourself about what you want from them. Their instinct will likely be to utter that dreaded phrase, “Let me know if there is anything I can do”. I mean seriously, has anyone ever responded to that comment by actually asking for help? It’s one of those awkward “I want to help” moments where no one quite knows what to say.
As you know, depression feels like a tonne of bricks has been laid to rest on top of you, so small tasks might pile up whilst you take time to recover. Try and pinpoint a few things that are looming over you and ask if they would mind helping out.
I remember my mum offered to help me clean my house and I was really offended, when really my life would have been a little more comfortable had I just let her help. Looking back, I’m certain it would have given her some purpose too during a difficult period in our relationship.
Explain that you might act differently
This can be really hard, because maybe you’ve just been diagnosed in which case your symptoms will likely become different over the coming months. You don’t need to go into the specifics about how you’re feeling, but it would be good to explain the things your are finding particularly difficult. It might be shopping for groceries, driving to a doctors appointment or dealing with some unpaid bills. My problem for a long time was being out with big groups of people who weren’t my very close friends and family.
I became very reclusive and lost all self-confidence so social gatherings were my number one fear. Over time I managed to express this to my friends and they still accommodate me to this day. If I don’t want to go clubbing, drinking or into a crowded venue they don’t expect me to. They know drinking alcohol makes my condition worse so they don’t pressure me to have a drink when they are having one.
Knowing that these things weren’t expected of me took a huge weight off my shoulders, and when I was at my worst all of my best friends made an effort to see me in an environment where I was at ease.
Have these tips given you the confidence to talk openly to your friends about depression?
by Fiona likes to blog | Oct 27, 2016 | DEPRESSION
I wanted to pop on quickly and let you know that one of my most popular blogposts was spotted and picked up by a UK mental health charity this week. The lovely people at Heads Together asked me to expand on my experience and write a more detailed post which I was over the moon about! I’ve been overwhelmed with my friends who have shared it on Facebook and would love it if you would go take a look.
It’s perfect for anyone who is struggling to communicate with someone they know who has depression. It offers a few simple phrases and an explanation as to why these things seem to help. I really hope you enjoy reading it, and if you do please share it with others.
You can read the full article here.
by Fiona likes to blog | Sep 27, 2016 | DEPRESSION, LIFE
“Do you want a sick line?” the doctor asked me, and as she did so I breathed a sigh of relief.
I had been considering speaking to a doctor for weeks at this point; repeatedly lifting the phone to my ear, dialling the number and then slamming it down in protest, adamant that I’d be laughed out of the doctor’s office and told to stop being so dramatic.
I can’t remember exactly what tipped me over the edge and forced me to make the appointment, as a lot of it went by in a blur. I vaguely remember hiding in toilets at work, losing my temper with a team member over something incredibly insignificant and crying uncontrollably on the bus home every night.
Not exactly the behaviour you’d expect from a manager who is overseeing 4 supervisors, 20 team members and running several retail outlets and 2 departments simultaneously.
I knew I was stressed. My workload had increased dramatically over the 6 months leading up to this and I was feeling troubled following the death of a grandparent. I knew I wasn’t
coping very well. I remember looking at my ‘to-do’ list and thinking that it was too overwhelming.
My brain couldn’t process the list into actions, and it was like I was trying to read hieroglyphics. There seemed like no good place to start. I didn’t want to start. I needed a break, but asking for it felt like a sign of weakness. I’d always got promoted on the basis of saying yes to more work and more responsibility. For a proud career woman like me, saying I couldn’t handle it felt shameful.
When the doctor heard my symptoms she very kindly suggested I take a few weeks off to recuperate and prescribed be some beta blockers as she thought I was having some anxiety issues. Being given that ‘permission’ by an authority figure was just what I had been looking for. I felt reassured.
There was certainly no talk of depression.
I left that day happy in the knowledge that I just needed some time to relax, gather my thoughts and was certain I’d get back to my career in no time at all with the support of my boss to help ease the workload. Just a short break.
After a week, having given my mind and body the rest it had been silently screaming for I was suddenly overcome with the feeling of hopelessness. Darkness. The kind that feels like a dense, damp storm cloud enveloping your whole body to the point of suffocation.
From the doctor’s waiting room I stared out at the beautiful summer sky but all I could see was my desolate, pointless existence. Nothing mattered any more. The beta blockers were quickly swapped out for something new and a fresh sick line was scribbled, revealing the worst.
Patient is suffering from depression.
After 3 months off work I had exhausted the generous amount of sick pay allocated to me and I had to make a decision. I had tried going back to work a day here and there; the HR department were very accommodating and let me try a ‘phased return’ but doing my job seemed incomprehensible. How was I supposed to lead a team?
How could I adhere to health and safety standards, deliver award-winning customer service, and control a department budget when I could barely find the energy to take a shower everyday? How could I sit in meetings and listen to company objectives when in my head I was contemplating the very worst, every moment of every day? How could I performance manage staff when I couldn’t see the point in doing my own job?
I felt backed into a corner – not by my employer – but by my illness. My job required a certain level of attention that I physically was not capable of offering. So, I quit. I had spent 5 years in the industry; on my feet for 50+ hours a week, doing all the shitty jobs, late nights, early mornings, working for pennies, and finally I had landed the highest earning job of my career. I was in a desk job with sociable hours, stability and lifelong prospects. Then I lost it all. 
Through no fault of my own, all of a sudden had no ability to do the job I had worked so hard to secure. Even now – 4 years later – I feel totally incapable when it comes to the tasks I used to complete with ease. There is an entire skill set on my CV that I may as well just delete. I have the experience, but I believe I’ve lost the capacity.
I’m not trying to encourage people to quit their jobs as soon as they’re diagnosed with depression. Not everyone will be affected the same way that I was. A lot of people find their job is the one constant in their lives during a depressive period, and it gives them comfort to focus on something other than their own mind. I just want to be completely honest about my experience and what I personally had to do to get better.
I feel angry that I had to lose my career to save my mental health. I feel like I had this enormous setback in life where all my hard work had been for nothing. This stupid illness came along and it took over my life. The honest truth is that it still does. I’m almost certain it’ll control me for the rest of my life. Is this the way it should be? Should we feel forced to be unemployed, unable to contribute to society because of our brain chemicals? Absolutely not, but it’s the situation many of us find ourselves in. Feeling overwhelmed? Take a look at my self-care tips for when you’re feeling depressed.
Today, I have no confidence in my ability as a manager. I’ve worked in middle management roles during my recovery (which is ongoing, by the way) and although I can do it, I seem to have a finite amount of energy for jobs involving leadership. It eventually takes its toll on me and I either have to quit, reduce my hours or hand over some responsibility to others. So unfortunately at the moment, I only feel capable of doing a job which as no responsibility and pays minimum wage. Some people would find this humiliating, and I did too at first. The alternative is to earn more money and compromise my future and I’m just not willing to go down that road again. Its simply not an option.
There’s a certain freedom that comes with working in a less pressured work environment. My job no longer defines who I am, but that’s a good thing. I’ve learned that it’s OK not to have the career I thought I once deserved. What I actually deserve is a healthy, happy, fulfilled existence.
My career did give me that for a while, but I couldn’t continue. Now I’m on the road to discover what else I can do, what else I can create, experience and give to others in order to get some sort of satisfaction whilst maintaining a balanced head. Having a less stressful job has given me the energy to explore the creative talents that I always thought I would pursue after university, but never did.
Creating content for my blog is one thing that I really look forward to doing. This thing came to exist because of me. Does it pay the bills? No. But I’ve learned stimulating my brain is incredibly important to my own well being; so if waitressing everyday allows me the opportunity to share my thoughts on here the rest of the time, then I think their are worse things I could be doing, don’t you?
