*Taps microphone* "Is this thing on?"

TW: Suicide, suicidal thoughts, self harm.

Hiya - Thought I should probably write something in connection to Mental Health Awareness Week 2018.  And writing is so cathartic for me so here goes.

It's only me.  I realise I've been pretty quiet here lately.  A lot of stuff has happened in my life and subsequently, my mental health has taken a massive battering.

Firstly I quit my job, partially due to anxiety and depression and being unable to cope in that environment anymore. Subsequently, I also quit doing my radio show which has broken my heart completely but ultimately it's the right thing for me to do for me.

And my beloved auntie Marie died on 30 April.  It was expected but it didn't make it any less sad when she died.  You might remember her from some of my blog posts here (sorry, that was terribly Troy McLure, wasn't it?)  She was so well loved and will be missed by almost everyone who knew her.  She was buried on what would have been her 80th birthday.  

My recent mental health battering really affected me terribly, I self harmed and had contemplated suicide...I didn't want to die, just for everything to stop and for the anxiety and depressive thoughts to cease.  

Suicide has been talked about quite a bit recently, due to an incredibly moving and powerful storyline in Coronation Street which saw Aiden Connor to take his own life.  The reactions of the neighbourhood, his family and friends was so well observed - the denial, the cries of 'selfish' and 'coward' - and the acting has been absolutely outstanding, particularly Richard Hawley (not THAT one) who plays Johnny, Aiden's devastated father.

I was asked why I would put myself through watching, given the horrible few months I've had; I think some of it was to see how it was handled (they worked with CALM and The Samaritans to get it right), but I think the main part was to try to get myself out of that mind set - to see how those chara
cters reacted to Aiden taking his life, is that how my friends and family would react?  And I know how messed up that is but now I've written it down, it's out there and it's probably the main reason I watched it.  I was able to snap myself out of the suicidal thoughts and the thoughts of harm, but I'm still depressed and suffering with massive anxiety.  I was so down, I didn't even look forward to my birthday, and as a lot of you know, I LOVE having about a billion birthday parties.  I spent my birthday with my gorgeous parents wandering around Nuneaton, trying to buy shoes for my auntie's funeral.  Got an ice cream out of it though.

I'm not working now (I'm technically a House Wife) I'm alone more with my thoughts, and I'm trying my best to distract myself.  It's so easy to wallow and sink, but I need to swim up and keep going.  I am good enough, I will get another job, I have the love and support of my wonderful husband and family, and friends.

Basically, this is just a catch up of my life recently (it wasn't all doom and gloom, David and I had an absolutely incredible holiday in Croatia where we befriended about a billion cats).  I think I just wanted to let y'all know what's been going on and to remind you that it's okay to not be okay.  It's okay to be emotional, toxic masculinity is so prevalent in our society that men in particular feel they need to 'Man Up' (a dreadful phrase). Cry, scream, wail, talk to someone, please.  No-one else can play your part, you're a unique and beautiful being.  You absolutely deserve your place here on this planet.  Please never feel you don't.

Oh! I hugged Mini T!

Hooray for me!  I have been alive for 38 years.  It was my birthday yesterday, I indulged in pork pie and beer (because it was my birthday).  Hooray for me!

Its Mental Health Awareness Week this week, just a week or so after Piss Morgan (I am aware of that typo) complained that too many men are oversharing and should Man Up.  One twitter user replied saying that their brother tried to Man Up, failed and ended up killing himself due to anxiety and depression; he felt he couldn’t talk about it because it’s not manly to share your feelings.  This is the myth that Piss continues to perpetuate, in this day and age where the biggest killer of young men (under the age of 45).  He seems to think it’s not okay to talk about your feelings, because if you do it makes you less of a man.  He then posed the question "Is James Bond not a real man, then?" on Twitter and the internet laughed at him, because that’s all he’s good for.

Regular readers of this blog will have seen my documented struggles with anxiety, depression, incredibly low self-esteem and suicidal ideation.  These aren’t daily feelings (thankfully), and the suicide thing hasn’t reared its head in a long while.  But from time to time, it hits me.  Yesterday whilst out with David for my birthday, he took a photograph of me holding a pint (because it was my birthday).  This might not seem strange, in fact, it’s almost obligatory that he do this on my birthday.  But I hated the photograph.  I look enormous (which I am), like the size of a fully grown manatee.  He posted it to FB because that’s what he does, and soon the compliments flooded in as well as more birthday greetings.  And my dark half came out and she started her up her old game of telling me how shit I look:

‘They don’t really like you’. 

‘They’re just complimenting you because that’s what you do when someone posts a photo of themselves or their significant other on FB’ 

‘They really want to post up the truth, YOUR truth, Tara, and post ‘Sorry Dave, your wife looks like a manatee with a stupid smile where her top lip disappears so it shows all her stupid teeth’.   

Managed to get to the cinema without too much trouble and then finally enclosed my dark half back in her cupboard.  Then, as we left the cinema, (which is situated next to a gym), two blokes came out of the gym, one looked over at me then whispered something to his mate, then they both looked over and openly laughed at me.  And it was definitely not because I’d told them a hilarious joke (You know what I hate about Russian dolls?  They’re so full of themselves ).  So I was made to feel like utter dogshit on my birthday – fair dos, they didn’t know it was my birthday; they didn’t know I have such a low self-opinion but yeah, they made me feel like utter garbage.  David and James, bless them, tried to help by saying ‘forget about them, they’re idiots’ and ‘They don’t matter’ but that’s exactly how anxiety can get you. It’s true, why SHOULD I care that two blokes I don’t even know openly laughed at me?  Because I do.  Because anxiety and my dark half make me.  And I’m finding it difficult to cope at the moment.  Got another birthday night out planned with the gal pals for Saturday.  I hope my dark half fucks off by then.  

If you’re being affected by low mood, anxiety, depression, suicidal ideation or any other kind of worrying thoughts or feelings, please do share your thoughts and feelings with others, whether its friends family or MIND or Samaritans, or even contact me through this blog.  Just please don’t suffer alone.   And writing my feelings helps me out so much.  I find it cathartic, which is why there are so many posts on here about mental health.

FUCK Piss Morgan.

How are you?

It’s Time To Talk Day.

You might not know what that is.  It’s a campaign set up by Time To Change in 2014 for people to converse about mental health.  It falls on the first Thursday of February.

Readers of this blog (and possibly of David’s blog FoldsFive) may be aware that I have suffered on and off with my mental health for years, suffering severe depression leading to suicidal tendencies, extreme self-loathing, issues with my general appearance (and no, not that I’m just obese, general actual hatred of myself, my face etc.), feelings of low self-worth, feeling like a failure because I can’t conceive… I could go on. 

My point is this: today, I’m in a brilliant place, mentally.  I may occasionally get the odd wobble at times (but who doesn’t?), the odd dark day but I still manage to get up and out, put a brave face on it.  I’m still on medication, and to be honest, I can’t really see a point when I won’t be.  But I firmly believe that the reason I am now living, rather than just existing is because I shared my problems: I talked, I blogged, I had a CPN, I had a psychologist, I spoke with friends and family. 

It can difficult opening up, I know that; but try and take that first step, you don’t have to speak to someone you know, you could use Mind, Childline, Samaritans or Silverline.  You don’t have to go through it alone.  There will always be someone to listen.  Someone will always have time for you to talk.

Please, just talk.

I love you all.

Today I am sad

Copyright Chris (Simpsons artist xox)

Today I am sad.  Not in a ‘ahh saddo’ sort of a way, but a genuine feeling of cheerlessness.  Suicide has claimed another life, but this time it’s a big Hollywood star.  Robin Williams, known for Mork and Mindy, Good Morning Vietnam, One Hour Photo, Mrs Doubtfire, Good Will Hunting (I could go on) is dead of apparent suicide.  And it’s really very sad.

Williams had well known battles with drink and drugs, and had checked into rehab again as recently as July this year for ‘fine tuning’ of his sobriety.  His publicist stated he had been battling ‘severe depression’.  And now, the usual comments regarding celebrities who suffer depression start:

What did he have to be depressed about?  

I’d switch places with him, a little bit of depression but all that money!

Why didn’t he seek help, I mean he could afford the best psychiatric care.

How selfish.  What a selfish person, leaving his wife and kids like that.

I could go on.  These are statements that are trotted out whenever someone in the public eye takes their own life, and quite frankly they piss me right off.  Depression can strike anyone, whether you’re a big Hollywood star or a little ginger nobody from Coventry.  

My experiences of depression I have had people say:

 

‘What are you depressed about?  Look at all the killing and famine and war in the world, and then tell me you’re still depressed about your life’.

‘Snap out of it’ (a stone cold classic).

‘You’re just doing it for attention’.

‘I might tell my GP I’m depressed, I could do with some time off work’.

I could go on, but I won’t because it makes me angry and upset.

Followers of this blog will know that I have also contemplated suicide in the past.  ‘But that’s so selfish!’ I hear you shout.  It might seem it to you, the person not suffering with depression, but to me at that time, I was absolutely convinced it would be the best thing for everyone if I wasn’t here anymore.  David would move on, he and my family would mourn and not forget me but then I wouldn’t be there sapping any positivity from them, being a burden on them, the constant crying for no reason, not wanting to leave the house, not getting out of bed… have you ever lived with a chronically depressed/suicidal person?  It’s hard fucking work.  So I thought they’d be better off without me.  

And as for cowardly; not at all.  One of the hardest things to do, I would imagine, would be to actually take your own life.  Standing on the edge of a hill on the Isle of Skye, the thought of throwing myself off kept running through my mind – and I didn’t do it because I was frightened to; it was scary, so people who succeed are pretty brave in my opinion.

Now we will have to wade through the hundreds of press reports stating the method in which Robin decided to take his own life; the Samaritans Press Office have a statement for the press to read regarding how to report on suicide (e.g. don’t state the method) which is almost always routinely ignored.

Can we not just leave him be?  He had his reasons for killing himself and whilst it is actually a tragedy, if it opens dialogue about depression, addiction and suicide, then maybe that might be a blessing.

As for me, I’m still receiving treatment for depression but have recently cut down the dosage of my antidepressants from 40mg to 30mg.  Might not seem a great deal but it was something I had wanted to do, but was scared to.  I’m coping, though.  I’m still here, and for that I am thankful.

I hope you've found your peace now, Robin.

2013 - The Year of the Loser

So, it’s very nearly Christmas.  Here I am almost at the end of 2013 and I managed to survive.  Melodramatic, you might say, but well I suppose I’m nothing without my over the top melodramas.

We tend to enter a new year without really much idea of what’s ahead…unless you’re pregnant or getting married or something (but even then, unexpected things can happen in those most certain of events).  Last New Years Eve whilst dressed as a murderous cowboy at Tom and Fran’s house, little did I realise quite how bad a year 2013 was going to be for me.  The previous couple of months hadn’t been particularly great with the ongoing situation at work (being frozen out, talked about, moving offices, my maturity, work capabilities and professionalism being called into question by my peers) so I thought that 2013 had to be better than that.  Boy, was I wrong.

2013 saw my worst bout of depression, saw me actively contemplating suicide because I thought that the world would be a better place without me, that everyone would be better off without having to cope with this needy fat failure, this waste of space that I’d become. 

I sought help for my depression and thankfully (with a massive help of antidepressants and therapy) my head seems to be in a better place.  But those things alone didn’t just help, the support of my wonderful family, my brilliant husband David who has seen me at both my worst and my best (I’m sure better is to come too), my mam and dad who have helped me through with sheer unadulterated love (and some pretty off colour jokes about suicide from my da), my brothers and my incredibly intelligent and always hilarious niece who I love as though she were my own daughter; the sort of kid who sent me a text the other day telling me how much she loves me because she’d been reading this blog and had got upset that I’ve been so down.  She’s off to uni next year to study psychology – she could do a fascinating case study on the inner workings of her mental aunt.

I have such wonderful people surrounding me, fantastic friends who are always there for me, any time of the day or night – they’re the people who make me what I am; they’re who I aspire to be…and I really couldn’t have got through without everyone’s support: I’ve been overwhelmed with kind words from people I’ve known forever to people I barely know because we share the bond of depression.  I couldn’t have come so far without them.  I’m well aware this is becoming like an Oscar speech so I’m going to finish in a minute but before I do, I just want to say a couple more things:

My demons are not all gone.  They still exist, kind of like in a ghost trap from Ghostbusters.  I need to try and get them to the containment unit before they consume me so badly again (think Damian Karras at the end of The Exorcist – I don’t want that to happen to ME).  As The Smiths once sang, These Things Take Time and so I am still working hard on getting my head straight.

Because I’ve been busy concentrating on getting my head straight, I’ve let my body become ravaged (and ravished) by cakes and pies and Guinness and loads of other junk food.  I couldn’t do getting my mind and body right at the same time, so I shall be trying to get back into a shape that isn’t quite so round in the New Year.

And finally, just because, if at any point over the Christmas period you are feeling horrible and low and you can’t talk to anyone about it, please remember The Samaritans are there, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.  They’re an amazing organisation and can really help in times of crisis. 

Thank you all so much for reading my blog posts.  I know they’ve mostly been depressing but sadly that’s been most of my year.  I will work on 2014 being the International Year of Tara Court, and if it isn’t, then it’ll all be okay as long as I continue to get better.

Merry Christmas to you all. 

Much love,

Tara x