Feelings and aims

To anyone reading this ...just please understand that my mind isn't working properly at the moment, and my writing is suffering. My head feels battered all the time.

Believe it or not I've done multiple writing courses!

I had my first therapy session and I have another tomorrow. I will be posting about both tomorrow evening. As cliche as it sounds, one good thing about having SAD & a blog is the potential to help others with this horrible illness.
 
I've been neglecting my blog lately though, and I think it's because it's just so colourful and joyful and cheery and my life "outside of the blog world" is the opposite. Hence the change of layout. It just seemed fake.
 
I have severe paranoia and freaked out worry like I've never felt. All you bloggers seem to live such exciting lives, full of activity and fun and never ending love and energy. I'm in huge envious awe.

I completely understand that it's hard to be a new blogger and you should expect to be ignored in favor of popular bloggers. But with Social Anxiety Disorder - ANY commuication (or lack thereof -ie being ignored) is hard.

I freak out when people comment, I freak out when they don't. You can't win.

It's a complex illness.

I don't expect people to care. Do you blog and expect people to care? Because I do care about some of you. Some of your posts really affect me and I genuinely post responses that are honest and caring. I want to make you feel better.

I'm sitting there with my heart breaking for some of you. And I'm sitting there grinning like mad at some of your fun activities. I believe that I care.

But do you care that I care? I care too much that you care that I care. And I care that you care that I care that you care.

But I can't care about all these blogs if I'm not getting a little bit back. Otherwise it's just draining. Yeah I'd love to be a 100% giver and expect nothing in return, but who can honestly say they'd be happy never feeling cared about?

I'm so delicate about it all. I hate how it all sounds, like how pathetic it sounds, but it's me, and it's the me I'm stuck with, just like you've got you.

I don't think people understand just how different people can be MENTALLY. And how that affects them PHYSICALLY. Just how much harder it is to do simple things.

People will say "Oh I find it so hard to get up with my child in the night and play with them all day and deal with their tantrums and do all the housework, cook all the meals, and be pregnant at the same time, but I do it and I smile because I'm a mum and I love my kids"

Well I love my little boy too. Just as much. But you have to believe that I find that stuff 500x harder because there is so much missing from my life that you have in yours. The stuff that balances the bad times out.

I don't have a normal relationship with my partner for starters. I don't let him near me. I haven't let him near me for two years. Even holding hands is hard. He's also 100% of my support system. I have no other friends or family who support me. Nobody.

I've lived like this for too long. My life is wasting away. My best years.

Of course I try. And I need this to be believed. I try SO DAMN HARD to give Charlie adventure and fun. Every week I do different activities with him and take him somewhere new. Chris needs to be with me. But we do it. Every week. Nearly every day Charlie is doing something creative and educational. An eating food full of vitamins, protein, fiber, calcium and iron. Childhood is so special.

His will be special.

I know for a fact that other parents who aren't even affected mentally don't bother with their kids. So yeah, I take some pride in what I do with Charlie. But I'm not going to pretend that I'm happy and I'm this perfect mammy and I'm coping fine with Social Anxiety and depression. I'm not. I'm not coping.

I really feel like just one person cares. Should that be enough? He shouldn't have to be my carer. He needs care too. But then his life is jam packed with his friends and family calling him all the time. But still, he shouldn't need to be my carer.

I feel like I want a way out. All the time. I want to be fixed. How do I do it?

I'm lonely and I'm sad and I'm SO DAMN JEALOUS of EVERYONE who has friends and a social life. I don't even remember what it feels like to have a friend. I mean an actual real life friend who isn't just words on a screen from somebody sitting behind it miles away. Sometimes thousands of miles away.

I have 4 contacts in my phone; mum, dad, Chris and the doctors. Mum and dad call every month and the conversation is about Charlie and when they can see him.

I'm not saying that I don't love some of the people I've met online either. Some of you are amazing. I have seen some genuinely altruistic acts, and that's really rare.

I want to be like that. I so want to help others with SAD and I want to foster young children. Childhood is right up there as one of the best times of your life and it's over so quickly and every child deserves a magical one. All the problems and stresses of teenage hormones and adult responsibility come at you like a freakin wrecking ball before you know it.

A lovely blogger (I'm sorry I don't know who because there's so many lovely ones, and they're all similar) posted a list of things she'd love to do with her life.

I have SO MUCH I'd love to do as well and so I thought it'd be good to make my own list, but stick to the short term.

I'm going to leave off the obvious like "Be the best mammy/girlfriend/wife I can" Of course I want that! It's like saying "Love my baby", "Remember to breathe".

I'm not always going to be the best mam and the best girlfriend. It's healthy to understand that. At the moment I'm pretty bad at both.

So here goes. My hopes and goals for the next couple of years.

1. Have lots of therapy - be helped.
2. Tame the paranoia. (Even try beta blockers again).
3. Get Charlie into a decent nursery and school.
4. Visit castles.
5. Visit different coasts.
6. Visit Scotland (booked for Charlie's 2nd birthday)
7. Give Charlie magical Halloweens & Christmases
8. Visit animal sanctuary's.
9. Take Charlie to Buxton park. (Mine and Chris's 'special' place).
10. Get over my alcohol issues. (as in fear of drinking it and being around people who drink it)
11. Get engaged.
12. Plan where to get married.
13. Make some friends. A friend.
14. Have another baby.
15. Learn not to care about my weight.
16. Help Chris get the job he deserves.
17. Travel in a hot air balloon.
18. Visit Cornwall's Coombe Mill in Spring.
19. Cook more. Experiment with food.
20. Find ways to cope when times get really hard.
    

Horrific dental surgery, SAD & feelings & stuff update.

I haven't had the time or energy to blog much over the last few days. I've done tons of successful and non-successful activities with Charlie but my confidence has been really low. I've also had horrendous toothache (decay or something, something to do with the nerve - it flippin kills anyway) and then a couple of days ago I had a terrifying dentist experience where she wrenched out one of my top molars.

Seriously. I'd go through child birth before that again. Many times. It was horrific. I did lots of research beforehand on people saying that it's not that bad and you hardly feel it etc etc, and you do hardly feel it, I mean you feel it sliding out of your gum -forcefully - the sensation feels queasy and eugh - but that's not the worst part. It's the bleeding.

I had a loooong chat with the dentist as soon as I was in the chair, telling her all my concerns, how I had to be induced with Charlie and wasn't allowed an epidural due to my platelets and blood pressure dropping continuously. If I'd have had an epidural, the doctors were pretty sure my blood wouldn't clot once it was taken out. I think that was the gist of what they were saying, I was in shock at the time. I was also told that I may or may not need a C-section. For some reason. That didn't make sense. And I couldn't understand the South African doctor all that well... but the point was that there was something wrong with my blood.

I had (about 5) blood tests after Charlie's birth and he had to have one too (which was horrible to watch, he was a day old at the time, in fact I walked off because I was an emotional wreck) and the results all came back positive, that mine and Charlie's blood was fine.

The dentist seemed satisfied that she should go ahead and pull TWO teeth out of my mouth. And I had to let her, because the pain I'd been suffering from them had stopped me sleeping and made me even more of a hormonal roller-coaster wreck than usual.

I don't really want to go into detail, because I know if I was reading this it'd make me feel lightheaded if I explained everything exactly. Lets just say that the bleeding and the sensation of it in my mouth was waaaaaaay too much for me to handle and I was seconds off passing out. I was shaking violently and my dress was drenched with sweat. I managed to tell my dentist that I felt weird and she and the assistants stopped what they were doing and I was given a sugary drink and laid down, which helped. I also managed to tell her not to take the other one out - which she'd already decided on herself. If I'd had two pulled out I would have passed out. I don't even know how it's possible to have more than one pulled out and control the bleeding at the same time. HOW would that work?

Not being able to put pressure on your own bleeding 'wound' when every instinct in your body is telling you to feels like torture.Just laying there bleeding is just horrible. Especially to somebody as sensitive and squeamish and paranoid as me.

I had two stitches, which I was glad for, and which didn't hurt, but I just felt so spaced out, sick and scared. I just wanted to leave as soon as I could.

Then I was told to sit in the waiting room with a numbed up face to see if the bleeding was properly under control. I was shaking and trying to text Chris (luckily our house is about 20 feet away from the dentist, you can practically see it from the waiting room) who tried to text back words of comfort!

I was terrified my mouth would start pouring with blood. But it didn't, and after another check up the dentist let me go. I felt like I had to say "Thank You" but it was one of the worst experiences I've had. I then spent over two hours stuffing kitchen roll in my mouth trying to dry up the bloody saliva I couldn't bring myself to swallow, and the bleeding as it stopped and started.

It's stopped bleeding now and I've got a dull ache in my mouth, which is completely bearable compared to tooth decay pain.

But I've just been feeling 'blah' in general.

I read that having the contraceptive implant taken out made some women feel brand new, all new-found-confidence and energy and less paranoid, but not me. I feel the same, and I've been having nightmares. Great, eh?

I also had to cancel my first SAD therapy appointment due to dental stuff, so I've got a new one on Monday at 10.45. I'm obviously nervous about that too.

I feel fat.
I feel useless.
I feel like Charlie doesn't love me (maybe like me, a bit)
I feel like everything I try to cook goes wrong.
I feel like my blog is rubbish and everybody elses is great.
I feel ugly.
I feel like I don't do enough and I'm wasting my life.
I feel like the house is always a mess.
I feel sad that Chris (and everyone I have on Facebook) is going out all the time with friends.
I wish I had a friend.

I feel frustrated that the parent and toddler bloggers I've added on Instagram seem to be doing new activities with their toddler every day. I can't do that due to lack of energy, mental health problems, and lack of cash! Ingredients for messy and creative play aren't cheap, they're really not when you're wanting to do different things all the time. It's 5 quid for non-toxic childrens paint for Charlie's age and he wants to use all of it in one session.

Rice and pasta and food colouring and sand and water beads and paint and glowing vitamin water and slime and shape cutters and glitter and whatever else. It all adds up. But I feel like if I'm not getting all of this stuff and doing stuff with Charlie ALL THE TIME, then I'm failing him and I'm a bad mother and he's going to have developmental issues.

I honestly love him so much and I wish so much I was better and Chris was able to work full time and not stay here to look after us. But at the moment it's not possible. I need this therapy and I need to get better, and I need Chris to get the job he deserves and I need to feel like I'm doing something purposeful.

It's just hard at the moment.

SAD Therapy update

In the middle of sorting Charlie's room out to look less like a toddler squats there and more like a child's bedroom... I got a call saying they had a spare appointment for Monday. Monday at 1'oclock. Did I want it.

The woman on the phone made me feel nervous. She's probably lovely and was trying desperately hard to be sensitive because she doesn't know exactly what she's dealing with, but I don't know, it felt awkward and way too 'nicey nice' - peoples 'nicey nice polite voices' don't make me relax, they make me feel on edge.

I have to make my way to the South Shields Medical Centre ("the big building") and go to the reception desk and ask for the 'Floor for mental health' so yeah, that's comforting!

Sigh. This is what I wanted. It's taken me a long, long time to face up to the fact that I need some help again, and then when I had, I had to get over whatever stupid mental barrier that was stopping me making the first phone call.

So, from Monday the real journey starts. I apologise for being so dramatic, but this is obviously a huge step in my life, in what should be the right direction for a change!

Social Anxiety & emotional stuff update

A week ago I had a phone call questionnaire (all about deep feelings & personal stuff) to get myself a therapist. I've not had my phone call back with an appointment.

I'm a little bit concerned because Charlie took it upon himself to fling my mobile into a splodge of orange goo- and it didn't like it as much as he did.

Now it will allow people to call me, but not allow me to answer.  Arrgh!!

It's okay. I get a new mobile next week. Chris gets some upgrade thing on his contract where they apparently send him a brand new mobile for free, and he's giving me it. My first mobile with the internet on it! Haha, I sound 56 rather than 26.

Honestly, I never buy myself new gadget stuff because I'm just not bothered enough about it. I've never even had an I-pod. My last phone was £10 from Argos and that was just for emergencies & to keep in touch with the parents - and hence, it lost the attack of the orange slime. That sounds like an old Goosebumps book! I used to love them books when I was about 10. They were great books. I still love thriller books - I need to do a 'top books' blog when I have a spare hour!

So this new internet phone means I can instagram!! That's right, isn't it? so I'm pretty excited about being able to capture pictures & stick them straight on there before they disappear because I've accidentally formatted my phone or something.

I've also -huge cheer- had the flippin' contraceptive implanon taken out at last! I've had months & months of these miniscule hormone-devils rampaging about my body, turning me from a raging bull to a tearful, shaking jelly leaf. The removal process is far from fun, I can tell you that. It flippin well hurts. I am NOT good with anesthetic. I need about 3 shots of it before they can operate. But it's out. Hooray. I'm so glad it's out. I just want to feel like a normal human being and not like I'm being controlled by some synthetic hormonal substance!

I don't know if it's part of being a parent; a part of my SAD, or the implant or what, but I've been excessively paranoid too. Horribly, darkly paranoid. I think whatever transport I'm on will crash. I'll convince myself of it; my pulse will race and I'll sweat and it'll be hard for me to breathe. I think we'll be hit by a car. I think I'll food poison Charlie with QUORN. Yeah, it's really not been a barrel of laughs being Katie over the last few months... I don't want to be like this! I want to be like the other people sat there on the train on their i-whatevers forgetting they're even on a train!

But now that my arm is free of the rod of squirting deviljuice; I hope I'll start to feel a bit closer to "normal" again. My old normal self anyway. Have normal periods again - not that I'll be celebrating them - I've not been blessed there either. What's great though, is It also leaves me free to conceive again - at some point in the far future when I feel better in myself and me & Chris have this place straightened up. A lot. I cannot wait to give Charlie a brother or sister. I honestly think he'll love them more than anything else.

I need these therapy people to contact me.

One last thing - the thing that's making me feel good about life at the moment is blogging.

I'd recommend blogging to anybody with Social Anxiety. It's a different world, and yeah the whole 'putting your life out there for scrutiny' is scary - but you can find people like YOU. I've found some lovely, friendly people and they've made me feel so confident about myself already with just a couple of comments.

What with me not having any real-life friends, it's fascinating, exciting, liberating - so many things! to be able to enter into a part of other peoples lives & communicate and share pictures and stories. It really helps to fill the gap where my social life would be. I suppose that blogging is a type of therapy in itself :).

SAD - Day 1 The phone call.

It went really well.

I was hoping the woman would be really easy to talk to. I mean, I suppose to have a job where you're talking to people who are seriously depressed or seriously mentally ill, you'd have to have a sympathetic nature and telephone manner - and hers was perfect, not patronising or hurried or made me feel like I'd said anything shocking or stupid. She was very good at her job.

I found it easy to talk to her, and I found myself really enjoying suddenly having somebody interested (even if only for professional reasons) in my problems. It felt really nice. It must feel like that to have friends I suppose! I told her all about my history of SAD - getting diagnosed at 16. Feeling good for a bit after CBT and then relapsing after having Charlie and moving to Newcastle.

Talking about how this disorder affects Charlie did upset me, but made me feel even more determined to get myself sorted out. He deserves a happy, confident mammy. And I think I might deserve it for myself too.

I'll be contacted in a few days with my first new CBT appointment. I'll be having once-a-week treatment for six weeks.
My first aim is to be able to take Charlie out when Chris is at work and not be afraid of strangers talking to me.

It seems like a blurred,, distant fantasy now, but I'd love to be able to be pregnant by the end of this year.. I'd love to be able to give Charlie a brother or sister, so they can play together, support each other. I'm broody 24/7 at the moment!

Then I'd love to take a fostering course and give a loving care and comfortable home to children who desperately need it. But that's a long, long way off right now.

SAD Therapy Day 1.

History

Social Anxiety Disorder is an extreme fear of social situations. Friends, family and strangers all included. It's not shyness - it's fearing going into a shop and paying for something because of the (however minimal) human contact involved. You automatically think you look stupid, or you'll do or say something stupid. I was diagnosed with SAD when I was 16 and have had various treatments including counseling and Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. CBT is basically where they talk to you about your issues, try to stop the triggers and change the way you think about socialising. This helped a bit - this got me to college to do my A levels and then to uni where I eventually met Chris.

Now

After having Charlie I completely relapsed. I think it might be because of Charlie that I worry more and panic more about his safety and my own. I also put myself down a lot more and feel terrible when I see other mammy's socialising together, knowing that I could never have that.

I love being outside, and we're out whenever we can - but I could never do this by myself with Charlie (which makes me feel terrible) but I can't risk having a panic attack whilst caring for him. It always has to be the three of us. Then I feel perfectly safe, because I know Chris will always do the talking. And I don't have any friends or social contact outside of that.

This really isn't good. I can't have Charlie growing up watching me, copying the way I avoid talking to people. I can't help it, but that'll make him seem rude. - or make him grow up socially awkward, or worse, get the same condition.

So today is my new first step towards getting help, and this in itself is scary! I'm getting a phone call from the "Talking Therapy" center in South Shields.

I had to fill in a huge form (Which I just caught Charlie waving around saying "Daddy book!") and rate my feelings from 1-5 depending on how strong - like "How often do you feel bad about yourself" (5= all the time); "How quickly do you become bored/annoyed/tired". So, that was fun! I really hate the statistics of my feelings!

I hate phone calls. I really hate them. Sometimes even more than a face to face conversation. With phone calls there's a protective barrier up between you and the person, but I don't feel like it protects me - I feel like it allows the other person to speak to you how they like without worrying about getting slapped.

I worry that I'm not speaking loud or clear enough, and that the person is going to get annoyed more easily than if they could see my nervous, smiling politest-possible expression!