Finding Hope2017 in Review
Posted on December 31, 2017
It’s become a bit of a tradition for me to summarise the year on Instagram with a collage of photos and a sappy caption but since I have the blog this year, I thought I’d write something a bit more in depth (although I will still do my Instagram, fear not). I want to collect my thoughts and take a look at what I loved and lost and learned.
This has been a hard year, mainly because of my mental health. I struggled with my medication for a long time before having the worst meltdown I’ve ever had and that was the trigger for a really bad bout of depression that I still haven’t really recovered from. It’s not as bad as it was but it’s been really hard. Because of that, I decided to change medications and that process has swallowed up most of the year. Honestly, that’s been awful. I’ve been in a really bad mental place, it’s made me physically unwell, and probably the worst part is that it’s affected my cognitive functioning, making me unable to write. That has been unbearable. But it hasn’t been all bad, mental health wise. I confronted someone who really hurt me, I got involved with research studies into Autism, I applied to ‘Behind The Scars’ and talked openly about my experiences with self harm. I somehow got over my paralyzing anxiety about moving house and I’ve started communicating more with my family. So while it’s been a really difficult time, I can see that I have made some significant strides this year.
Another big thing was graduating university. I had always wanted to graduate with First Class Honours and while I expected it of myself, I still can’t quite believe that I managed it. I want to write something much more in depth about my experience at uni because there were a lot of ups and downs but ultimately, it was a great experience and I’m really proud of everything I achieved there. I also made some amazing friends who I will hopefully have in my life forever. The UEL graduation was stressful and exhausting but the ICMP graduation was satisfying and fun. And going out afterwards was a bizarre experience but I was proud of myself for defying my anxiety. My only regret about finishing uni and then graduating is that my depression overwhelmed them: when I found out I’d got a First, I didn’t feel anything. I wanted to be ecstatic but I couldn’t feel it. And yet, I would’ve been devastated had I not got a First. I’m trying to accept that situation for all it was though; I can’t change it now.
And then, of course, there is the music. This was obviously massively affected by my mental health but there were still some great moments this year. I wrote my most important song so far and I’ve been working on its release ever since (fingers crossed for early 2018) and that is so amazing to me. I’m so excited for it. I’ve also had some really fun recording sessions and I’ve had some awesome performing experiences: I got to play a songwriters’ circle with Lauren Aquilina, I hosted another songwriters’ circle at my friend’s charity benefit for TWLOHA, I played a showcase for a record label, and I got to play for my local Autism charity, Amaze. I mean, how cool is that? I also had another really special trip to Nashville. And last but certainly not least, I’ve been to some incredible concerts this year, including: The Shires, Sasha, East of Eli and Chyler Leigh, Country2Country, Tin Pan South Festival, Willemijn Verkaik, Kelsea Ballerini, Lady Antebellum, NADINE, and Maren Morris. Concerts are so, so important to me. Those are the moments where I really feel alive and so I always keep money aside for when they come around. They’re the only thing that I really spend money on.
I’m not sure whether it’s even possible to classify this year as a good one or a bad one. It would be easy to file it away as a bad year because of the difficult mental health stuff but there have been a lot of amazing moments. I went back to my two favourite places in the world, I listened to great music and saw some incredible art pieces, I saw my kittens all grown up, and I had some amazing experiences with the lovely people I’m so lucky to call my friends. I even started drinking alcohol for the first time; that’s been an experience! Thus far, I don’t really like it but I’m really, really, REALLY enjoying not feeling controlled by my anxiety, at least not in that area of my life.
Overall, this year has been a year of waiting. It really has: waiting for the medication to work, waiting to feel better, waiting to release my first single, waiting to move, waiting to graduate… Even when I was still at uni, I was counting down the days until we finished (because I didn’t want to leave and I was stressed about getting everything done in time). Always, always waiting. This year has been measured in seconds, minutes, hours, days, rather than experiences, far more than any other year. So that’s my hope for the new year: to wait less and do more. I know that many of these things were out of my control and when there were things I could influence, I did my best to do so. And I did some pretty cool stuff while I was waiting for other things. But I really want next year to feel different. I can’t remove waiting from my life but I’d like to not feel so stuck when I do have to wait.
“2017 was the year of waiting: waiting to release music, waiting to move house, waiting for medication to start working, waiting to feel better. It’s been slow and painful so I’m grateful to be moving on. But there have been some great moments this year too. I wrote some songs I’m really proud of, saw some amazing concerts, and went back to Nashville. I tried to see my friends as much as possible and worked hard on my mental health. Hopefully I’ll start to see some of that work pay off in 2018.” (x)
100 Days of Venlafaxine
Posted on December 29, 2017
I meant to post this yesterday, which actually was the 100th day, but then I managed to break my memory stick, where the file was saved. So that threw a spanner in the works. But here we are. The files were recovered. No harm done.
I’ve been taking Venlafaxine for 100 days now so I thought it was time I compiled my notes and summed up the whole thing. I know that when I started taking it, it would’ve been really helpful to know about someone’s experience. My psychiatrist gave me all the medical information but that didn’t really prepare me for what it felt like. So if you’re about to start taking Venlafaxine or are thinking about it, maybe this will help you. And if not, maybe this will give you a little insight into one experience of taking medication for a mental illness.
Week 1 (Dose: 37.5mg)
The nausea was so strong that all I could think about was not throwing up. I was very dizzy and tired all the time. But it was much easier to wake up in the mornings, quickly rather than having to drag myself into consciousness.
Week 2
The nausea faded a bit. I had headaches and was exhausted all the time. I continued to wake up early.
Week 3 (Dose: 75mg)
I was so tired that I fell asleep at random but I was still waking up early. I felt very faint and was too shaky to do anything but I had no concentration so I couldn’t do much anyway.
Week 4
The week was overshadowed by severe, unexplained leg pain. I had several doctors’ appointments to rule out the medication and DVT, the next most likely explanation, but eventually it faded by itself. Aside from that, I felt a bit lighter emotionally.
Week 5
I had some leg pain but it faded much more quickly. I was exhausted and very sleepy, regardless of how much sleep I got.
Week 6
I was so very, very tired, so tired that I could barely do anything. But I was still waking up very early.
Week 7
Again, still very, very tired but I was also feeling very anxious and depressed. I also noticed lots of bruising, especially on my legs that didn’t seem to have a cause. All I had to do was lean on something hard, like the edge of a table, and I’d have a bruise.
Week 8 (Dose: 150mg)
A bad week. I felt very disconnected and depressed. I was also exhausted so I didn’t have the energy to do any of the things that can help. I was also pretty unwell for a couple of days but I don’t know if that was related or just a coincidence.
Week 9
I started struggling desperately to wake up. It was like being trapped between being awake and asleep. It took all my concentration to wake up but all I had to do was blink and all that effort is wasted and I have to start all over again. I was exhausted and sleepy all the time.
Week 10
I was struggling desperately to wake up and still exhausted and sleepy all day.
Week 11
I reduced the Quetiapine from 125mg to 100mg (which I was prescribed while taking Phenelzine to help me sleep – I’d wanted to come off it straight away but was advised to wait so that I wasn’t dealing with reactions from both medications), which made waking up easier but I was still exhausted, depressed, and without any motivation.
Week 12
The sleepiness started to creep back in and I was still exhausted and without motivation.
Week 13
Again, I was really struggling to wake up; I couldn’t stay awake but I also couldn’t get back to sleep either. I managed to get the Quetiapine down to 50mg but I wasn’t sure if it was helping or not. I still had very little concentration and motivation which was really difficult and upsetting.
Week 14 (Dose: 225mg)
To combat the sleepiness, I reduced the Quetiapine to 25mg so my sleep was very all over the place. I was waking up really early and not getting more than about six hours. But I did feel more awake and alert which was a relief. I had several really productive days and wrote two songs after not being able to write for more than six months. That gave me an evening of complete joy, something I can’t remember feeling. Unfortunately that only lasted one night and my mood dipped afterwards because I missed it so much.
Week 15
My mood was fairly stable, no major ups or downs. I wasn’t depressed but I wasn’t feeling that positive either. I was tired and sleepy and feeling a bit lost.
I just wanted to draw particular attention to how long this process can take. When I started my last medication, I felt better very quickly but it’s been a very different story this time. It’s not as simple as taking the pills and feeling better. There’s the time it takes to decide or justify that you need a new medication (or a first medication), the time it takes to come off the old one, the time it takes to build up and adjust to the new one… I started this process in May and it’s now December. Seven months and I still don’t feel that much better. I’m hanging on to hope that things will start to get better – I’m holding on to that one really good day – but it’s hard.
I think there is a lack of understanding when it comes to this stuff. From the outside, it can seem like you’re not doing anything to get better and there’s a lot of guilt attached that, from other people and from yourself. But on top of whatever mental health problem you’re dealing with, there’s adjusting to the medication and whatever side effects come with it. That’s a lot. It’s exhausting physically, mentally, and emotionally and you shouldn’t feel pressured to do things you feel unable to or feel guilty about whatever you need to do to get through it. I’m still trying to learn this. I constantly feel like I’m not trying hard enough, even when I’m so exhausted that I don’t think I can get out of bed. But that’s a topic for another day.
I hope you all had a lovely Christmas and I’ll see you in the next post.
Backwards Binoculars
Posted on December 5, 2017
Over the years, I’ve had periods of feeling really far away. It often overlaps with my bouts of depression but sometimes it creeps in out of nowhere and I feel completely lost, untethered from everything around me. It fades in and out like a fog, sometimes with no warning and often there’s nothing I can do to dissipate it or avoid it. It can be really scary, especially when it first started to happen, but at the same time, it’s like I can’t really feel that fear or any of my emotions. I’ve described it in different ways but they all describe the same feeling: feeling completely disconnected from myself. But I thought I’d include a few of those descriptions because they give more of a sense of how it feels:
- It’s like looking backwards through binoculars so everything seems really far away when it’s actually close. Sometimes I can almost see the black tunnels that would be the inside of the binoculars. This is the way I usually describe it; I think it fits the best.
- I feel like I’m five miles back inside my head. I can’t reach anything or anyone and it feels like no one can hear me, the real me.
- It’s like watching everything happen and feeling like it would continue as normal if I wasn’t there, almost like people wouldn’t notice if I disappeared. They’ll keep talking, leaving spaces for me and responding to what I would’ve said if I was there.
- Similarly, it can feel like I’m invisible, like people will look right through me.
- It feels like I’m stuck behind glass, like there’s glass between me and everybody else. I am physically separated from everyone. This is another one of my ‘favourite’ ways to describe it.
- A variation of that is feeling like I’m wrapped in cling film: separated from everyone but also trapped. It makes me feel like I can’t breathe.
- I feel disconnected from my life, my body, like I’m in control but it’s not mine. I’m moving my limbs but they feel oddly numb, thick and heavy and clumsy.
- One of my earliest memories of this feeling is feeling like I was out of sync with everyone else. That’s a very lonely and uncomfortable feeling.
- Sometimes it feels like I’m underwater. It’s like I’m surrounded by something other than air and there’s more resistance when I try to move.
- The most recent description is that I feel like I’m sleepwalking and can’t wake up. This one overlaps with how I feel when I’m really depressed so it’s not the most reliable analogy, if that makes sense. It fits both.
To be completely honest, I’m not sure what causes it, given the overlap of the different mental health problems I struggle with. This is something I have a lot of anxiety about, not being able to pinpoint where individual problems come from. Everything’s connected to everything else. Everything influences everything. But from my own reading, it seems to be common in depression and in Borderline Personality Disorder. It’s often a coping mechanism for stress or overwhelming emotions. The Mind website has a great page about this. My experiences line up best with the description of ‘Depersonalisation’.
I still haven’t found anything that does much to help it but there are a few things that give me a few seconds of relief, of connection. Usually, it’s about tapping into my senses. That seems to bring me back to the world a little bit. So things like opening windows, sitting in the sun, touching leaves or flowers, stroking a pet, having a cold shower or holding something cold… they don’t fix it but they do have a positive effect. Even if it’s tiny, they do create small positive spikes in my mood. They’re like stars in a suffocatingly dark sky. With this, it’s more about getting through it than trying to fix it. It’s about creating one moment after another to carry you through to the other side.
I want to add that I’ve also used self harm to ‘wake myself up’ from this. I’m not advocating it; it’s dangerous and damaging and really difficult to get free of. But if nothing else, I’m honest and it has helped. When I’m in a really bad place, I don’t want to hear that I shouldn’t do it because it feels like the only thing that helps but when it’s not quite so bad, I try really hard to find other ways to cope. I try the things I’ve listed or I try to distract myself. I don’t want to get too far from the point of the post so I’ll come back to this in another post but I felt like I had to include it here.
Friends and family have asked me what they can do to help and if I’m honest, I don’t really know. It can be hard to think about that when I’m just trying to get through it. But I do want to help them help me. At some point, I will write more about this, but I do find it really helpful when the people around me let me set the pace and decide what I can and can’t manage. Sometimes a push is helpful but in this situation, it isn’t. A sense of control grounds me a little bit. Plus, there are some things that are just really hard to manage when you feel like you can’t connect to your emotions. For example, I find it really hard to write songs and be creative when I feel so disconnected from everything. So being able to (and feeling safe to) adapt my activities does help. And talking. Talking it through, figuring out solutions, letting off steam. That really helps.
Finding Hope 