Feeling Left Out Again...

At the end of February of last year I got a phone call from my sister informing me that our mother (then aged 84) had suffered a major stroke and had been admitted to Addenbrooke's stroke ward, in Cambridge.

As I've already discussed, I felt immense sorrow and regret over not seeing my father before he died. So when my sister offered to pay for my ticket over to the UK to see our mother I jumped at the chance.

I put my life on hold for the next eight weeks and looked after my mother's every whim and need. It was a very stressful time in my life, without even taking into account things that were happening back in Belgium! That is a story for another day...

Then in November of last year my mother rang me up and announced that my son would be staying at University to study over the Christmas period. This bombshell left me feeling lower than low at a time in my life when I was already down in the dumps.

Eventually, I rang up my son only to find out that my mother wanted him to come and pick her up at home, take her over to Italy - where my sister and her family live - then return to Italy and take her back over to the UK. Now this vital piece of information, for what ever reason, my mother had withheld!

So we both agreed that he (my son) would come over to Brussels and spend the Christmas holidays with me, his godmother and our friends. Anyway, after talking to my sister it was agreed that we would all spend Christmas in Italy with her and her family... From my point of view we all had a good time but obviously something about this arrangement didn't sit well with my mother!

Now fast forward to last week, and yet another phone call from my mother letting me know that she was off to Italy, and yes you guessed it, once again she wanted my son to come and pick her up and take her over. Only this time my son would be spending a week in Italy before starting his summer job in London.

When I pointed out that had I have known I would have booked myself a ticket to Italy so that I could spend some time with my son she responded that she thought I was saving up to go to Sierra Leon (Africa) later this year. In that moment I felt like someone had stabbed me in the heart, so I hung up on her.

I can't help but feeling that she orchestrated the whole thing so that I would not be able to come over. Why do I think this? This time around she dropped her bombshell two days before their departure, knowing full well that I would never find a cheap ticket or for that matter someone to come and look after my cats...

When it comes to my mother I perpetually feel like I'm all dressed up for the party, but never get the invitation. Furthermore, I hate the fact that the woman can still reduce me to tears!

...And Then There Was Me...

There is something to be said about the bond between a daughter and her father...

As a little girl I wanted nothing more than to grow up and marry mine. In fact, the sentiment I was trying to portray was to find a man like my father... with the same morals, sense of adventure and humour, with an ability to see the good and funny in most things in life. A perpetual optimist who enjoyed each day as if it where his first.

 

My father was truly a great man, with all of the aforementioned qualities, and while he was alive everything in the world seemed right... with his passing my world dimmed. I lost my footing for a while as it seemed, to me at least, that my father - the eternal believer in my abilities - had taken his faith with him, and that is when the negative, dark thoughts started to filter into my mind.

Perhaps it was because I felt a great deal of sorrow and regret for not getting the chance to say goodbye to this wonderful man I was lucky enough to call Daddy, and that feeling lingered and festered into an unhealthy dose of guilt. Add to that the repeated hiccups that every day life brings, and the stress starts to build with nowhere to go.

Now don't get me wrong I love my mother but she has the unique ability to rub me up the wrong way. Where my father saw only the good in me, my mother has always tended to see the bad and okay as a teenager I was rebellious to a fault. Having said that I'm now in my forties and have come a long way from the rebel I was. Yet still my mother finds fault, and unfortunately from where I'm sitting, will never fully approve of me or the life I chose...

The ABC Of Mental Health Project

The other day I wrote about a virtual community currently housed on Google Plus - Dopamine Stream - that offers support to Mental Health sufferers by way of an allocated sponsor...

 

As part of this community I'm setting up a blog aptly called The ABC Of Mental Health. A place for Mental Health sufferers and caregivers to share their stories, experiences and tips. If you would like to share your Mental Health Journey, let me know!

Furthermore, I want to create a series of fact sheets highlighting the ABC of Mental Health disorders. An easy to follow info sheet of each disorder's symptoms, pertinent websites, and other relevant information. So, if you're a medical professional - specifically working in the Mental Health field - and would like to share your valuable insights and expertise please contact me.

I would love to hear all your ideas, suggestions and thoughts on the matter, the more the merrier! If, like me, you want to see the stigma attached to Mental Health eradicated and believe that the only way to do so is by informing others, one person at a time. If you're interested and would like to be part of this fledgling project drop me a line, be it as a Mental Health sufferer, Mental Health caregiver or Medical professional working in the field...

DS Is For A Virtual Community...

I believe that a group of people or community can create an environment for change... The more we Stand Up for what we believe in, the more chances we have of being noticed as a Community, especially when it comes to Mental Health issues. The more we are noticed as a Community, the more chances we have of being heard as One Voice. The more we are heard as One Voice, the more chances we have of stopping the stigma unjustly attached to Mental Health...

So to that end I'm going to write about an online community that I am both a member of and a Sponsor. Dopamine Stream is a safe virtual community - set up for Mental Health sufferers by Mental Health sufferers - where you can be heard without judgement. We are an open-minded mixing pot of Mental Health sufferers and some Mental Health professionals, all with a common goal to see the system change when it comes to Mental Health and any issues associated with it.

We understand just how hard it can be sometimes to open up to the people closest to you. This, unfortunately, holds especially true when it come to our Mental Health. As a group of people, we are uniquely placed to understand where you are coming from and what you are going through, as we have been there ourselves. Sometimes it is easy to be honest and frank with a stranger then someone you know, and that is what your allocated sponsor it there for!

All our sponsors are volunteers and either suffer from - and have found a balance - or have suffered from Mental Health issues. We are always on the look out for volunteers to join us, so if you're a medical professional or a survivor of Mental Health issues and would like to give back by joining our ranks of sponsors we would love to hear from you. Even if you only have a couple of hours a week of your time to volunteer, every little bit counts...

So Come & Join Us @ Dopamine Stream..

It All Started... Part Two

Previously...

Back in 1951, the pubs in New Zealand closed at 6pm, while hotel bars stayed open for their guests until 11pm. Now, Rae had ever been in a pub but it seemed like the most natural thing to go for a drink before dinner. Earlier, as she had climbed into her car, her mother had warned, ‘Don't go up to his room and stick to ginger ale.’ Now feeling slightly rebellious, Rae let Ted order her a gin and tonic. As she sat on her bar stool sipping her drink, she felt that she had finally arrived.

 

Dinner at the hotel restaurant was a relaxed and leisurely affair. It was generally assumed by the staff that men ate more than women did, and accordingly, they were always served bigger portions along with seconds if they wanted them. Their buxom waitress, Nancy, was all over Ted, keeping his plate full while giving Rae the cold shoulder. Although Rae was very petite, she was more than capable of eating huge quantities when the food was good. But if she was slighted by the waitress, she hardly noticed, because Ted only had eyes for her.

After dinner, they took a long walk around Oriental Bay. Wellington had never looked as beautiful to Rae as it did that evening. Back at the hotel, Ted invited her up to his room for a pot of Earl Grey tea. She was rapidly falling for this stranger whose voice sent shivers down her spine. They drank their tea and continued chatting until Ted dozed off on his single bed. Feeling tired, Rae curled up next to him and fell asleep, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

At midnight, the ringing of the phone woke them abruptly. Ted instinctively went to answer it but stopped short when Rae screamed. ‘Don’t answer that, it’s my mother!’

She ran around in a panic, gathering her purse and shoes. Ted accompanied her to the car, then leaned in the car window and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. ‘Good night and sweet dreams, Rae.’

When Rae got home, her mother was waiting in the kitchen, a pot of tea brewing, and an expectant look on her face. Obviously, her mother was full of questions but she remained smugly uncommitted throughout the inquisition.

Three weeks later, Ted was back on business and he rang again. Her mother answered the phone, while Rae signalled to her that she was not in. Accordingly, Win informed Ted that Rae was off on a weekend trip to the Marlborough Sounds, and then promptly agreed to have dinner that evening.

That is how it came to be that Rae was home alone on a Saturday night, while her mother was out having dinner with her date. At 4am when her mother got home Rae was livid but she suppressed all interest in what she had to say about the evening. Even so, she was wounded by another snide remark, this time that Ted, fifteen years Rae’s senior, was too old for her. Somehow, Rae bit back that if Ted was too old for her, then he was equally too young for Win, being fifteen years her junior.

Still, Rae learnt something about herself that morning; she was willing to fight for her man. Next time Ted called, Rae almost tripped over the carpet in her rush to answer the phone. On their second date, they had dinner again and went dancing afterwards. Only this time as they were saying good night, Ted leant his head in the car window and kissed her gently on the lips.

 

Rae Baker and Ted Wood, my parents, were married at the Wesley church on 19^th February 1954. In 1955, my father invented the first automated starting stalls for racehorses. Together, my parents travelled the world, visiting one exotic location after another, while he installed his invention. My mother has often said that her life truly began the moment she met my father. By anyone’s standards, my parents had an incredible life together right up until my father’s death on 26^th February 2001. Had he lived, my parents would have celebrated their 59^th wedding anniversary this year.

It All Started... Part One

Rae had been restless all day. Whatever she did, her thoughts kept returning to Douglas and their two-year-old engagement. Most of her friends dreamt of getting married, but not Rae. She felt sure she had a lot of living to do before making that sort of commitment. She had met Douglas at a dance, and though he was a good dancer and a nice person there were no sparks. Still all their friends thought they were a perfect match.

Normally this would not have swayed Rae, but her mother learned that Douglas worked for the Post Office. Her snide remark (‘So, he’s a stamp licker.’) made Rae view her suitor in a more favourable light. Who do you think you are, she thought, but stopped short of saying anything.

When the phone rang, Rae considered not answering it for a second in case it was Douglas.

‘Hello?’ Hearing a resonant male voice respond, she relaxed immediately.

‘Good afternoon, Ted Wood here, may I speak to Win Baker please.’

Feeling slight flustered Rae had to sit down, ‘I’m sorry but Win isn’t at home right now.’

‘Are you Laurie’s daughter by any chance?’

‘No, Laurie is my uncle. I’m Rae, Win’s daughter.’

‘But Win doesn’t have a daughter, her brother Laurie does though.’

Then it clicked, Ted Wood probably wanted to talk to the previous tenant, who by a strange coincidence was also named Win Baker. She felt inexplicably disappointed; however, he did not seem at all bothered that they did not know each other. ‘So tell me a little bit about yourself Rae.’

Over the next hour, they chatted easily about everything from current events to what they did for a living. Ted smoothly rounded off the conversation by asking Rae out to dinner. This made her blush with pleasure, but she declined gracefully, cursing her engagement to Douglas once more.

Rae had intended to call off the engagement from the moment she’d accepted, but had never found the courage. As luck would have it, Douglas turned up on her doorstep a couple of days later with an ultimatum that propelled her into action.

‘Our engagement has gone on long enough. I’m giving you two months, Rae. Set a date for the wedding or I’ll call it off.’ He stood there awkwardly waiting to see what her reaction would be.

Rae was shocked, but more so to hear herself saying, ‘I really don’t feel confident enough to take such a step Doug. I think it would be best for everyone concerned if we call it off now.’

There, it was out. She had finally told Douglas how she really felt and it was a relief. With those words, a weight lifted from her shoulders and her life was filled with possibilities again.

As the months passed, Rae sometimes thought back to the conversation she’d had with Ted. After what seemed to her like an eternity, he was back in Wellington on business and rang up to invite her to dinner. Even though she’d been enjoying her freedom, a little voice told her to go for it. She agreed to meet him the following evening at his hotel, the Royal Oak, one of the most prestigious hotels in the city.

 

Rae felt apprehensive as she drove her blue Humber 6 to Manners Street, realising for the first time that she had never seen the man she was about to meet. The manager was manning the reception desk when Rae entered the hotel foyer, and inquired if he could help her. Subduing the urge to bolt from the lobby as fast as her stilettos would allow, Rae smiled nervously and announced that she had come to meet Mr Ted Wood. Picking up the desk phone, the manager directed her to wait in the lounge. Sitting there opposite the door, the apprehension came back and the desire to bolt returned. Thankfully, before she could act on her impulse a tall well-dressed man walked over to her, hand outstretched.

‘Hello, Rae, sorry I’m late. I’ve just come back from calibrating a ship. Would you care to join me in my room while I freshen up?’

Paying no heed to her mother’s teachings, she accepted. Ted exuded confidence, he was relaxed and charming, which put Rae instantly at ease. As he shaved, he chatted amiably to her reflection in the mirror. The click, clack of his rocker razor was unique, just like the man standing in front of her.

To be continued...

Working & Playing To Our Strengths...

"Using what you've got..." does not mean flaunt all your bodily attributes, just your innate talents. At first glance, you might be fooled into thinking that this is a limited edition, but these talents are tucked away in what we like to do, and in most cases do well. So why make life any harder than it should be? Good Question...

It would seem that a lot of us have the tendency to channel our energies into the things we may not like or even be good at, but instead we should hone our strengths and reach our optimum. Consider me this... How many hours a week do you spend working either at the office or at home? In all likelihood, it totals more hours than you spend on other activities. So now let me ask you this, how many of those working hours, do you actually enjoy and get a sense of accomplishment out of?

Not all that it could be, with room for improvement. Perhaps you are spending too much time and energy on your weaknesses i.e. things you don't enjoy doing and struggle to do when you have to. Would your time not be better spent, and even more productive, if you could simply focus on your area of talents and hone your skills to perfection.

 

I have the "Maximiser" and "Developer" talents - both have the common theme of growth - on the one hand, I maximise on people's strengths while with the other I will develop their potential over time - how much time depends on the individual. Now for this to happen I must gleam a spark of interest along with a potential to grow in the other person, needless to say this doesn't always happen! This is why I am selective with my friends; first, I must find their strengths and potential, before granting them the friend status.

I also have the "Empathy" talent, which gives me the ability to put myself in other people's shoes, but do not mistake my empathy for sympathy. My "Empathy" talent works well with my "Activator" talent, the side of me that can make the tough decisions even when some people's feelings might get hurt. That "Empathy" talent really doesn't like hurting people's feelings. The impatient "Activator" talent works well with the "Strategic" best way forward talent that I also have.

To sum it all up, I have the "Maximiser", "Developer", "Empathy", "Strategic" and "Activator" strengths - themes. So what is my ideal job? This is a question I have been asking myself recently, now that I'm on the first steps of the road to recovery!

A Is For A Mid-Life Adventure!

When I think back on it, I’ve always been susceptible to stress... The difference being that in my twenties, most things were new and unknown. In those days, back when everything ran at a slower pace, I bounced back from obstacles with ease. Like I said all those little set backs were okay the first time around.

However, by the second and third time around, the stress levels started to mount. Along with an ever-growing workload to be finished almost the second you’ve been handed it. Okay that is an exaggeration but you get my point. By the time I got to my thirties, these little and not so little unpleasant events were getting old. If I’d known then what I know now, I probably would have started practising Yoga in my twenties, but I digress...

Back in 2001, a good friend invited me to spend two weeks at her ex in-laws’, in a small picturesque village, Ostuni, in the south of Italy. Things went south, figuratively speaking, when a Third Wheel invited herself on our Italian get away. How did she manage that I hear you ask. Well, she told each of us that the other one had invited her, and so it was that our little duo became a trio.

Right from the get go the Third Wheel tried to impose her will on our actions. It started with a simple request, she wanted to spend a day visiting Rome, as she never been there before. So we accommodated, but originally my friend and I had planned to catch the night train to Ostuni the same evening as we arrived. Now please bear in mind that we both thought that the other one had invited the Third Wheel, so in the beginning we, somewhat, let things slide. Unfortunately, this started an avalanche effect of ridiculous demands from her.

This was the drop of water for me that made the glass overflow, and once the doors to the dam had been opened, there was no stopping the torrent. The Third Wheel’s antics got very old very fast, and my already short fuse blew. However, the woman just couldn’t or wouldn’t – that’s still up for debate – take a hint no matter how straight to the point or obvious it was. Our first, and only evening, in Rome and I’d had more than I could stomach of the Third Wheel, and we hadn't even started our holiday.

It had begun the morning of our departure, with a phone call at 7:30am, asking me to go and do her last-minute shopping. Barely awake I was in no mood, so after a curt response I hung up on her. There’s just no dissuading some people... She called back an hour later to inform me that there was a Strike, accompanied by protesters, at the airport. Then she dropped the lovely tip bit, that she would be coming to pick me up in 45 minutes. I hadn’t even had my first cup of coffee, and I don’t like being rushed in the morning.

Finally, at the airport without a solitary protester in sight, she tried – unsuccessfully I might add – to take my window seat on the plane. She wanted to sit next to me, as if I really cared at that point. As it transpired she sat – much to my chagrin – right behind me in her very own window seat - imagine that another seat next to a window in a plane!

I will not enumerate the countless other occasions that she tried to manipulate us into bending to her will, each time more ridiculous than the last... Like the time she asked my friend if she could borrow her trainers, while my friend was wearing them. I did my utmost not to let her spoil my Holiday, but the Third Wheel had such an adverse effect on me that she made me physically ill. I must be one of the only women to go to sunny, southern Italy and lose 10 kilograms, in as many days.

 

At our wits end and out of options, we waited for the Third Wheel to fall asleep - one morning following a long night of partying – before sneaking back out to the Travel Agency and changing my return flight. This meant that the original duo had five days to catch up on the fun, and catch up we did. I would like to add that once the Third Wheel had left I was no longer sick!

The moral to this story is never invite – or in our case are duped into inviting – a Third Wheel on holiday when you already have a perfectly good bicycle. We had left for our holiday as good friends and returned from it best friends. Our dynamic duo has endured and grown over the years...

Nomination & Nominees for ‘The Sunshine Award’

I’ve been nominated for the Sunshine Award and this time I've been nominated by two talented bloggers Carrie Lange and Anna . This took me completely by surprise and totally made my day twice over, so a Big Thank You to you for nominating me Carrie and Anna! Doing my little happy jig...

Here are the Sunshine Award’s simple rules:

• Post the Sunshine Award logo
• Then nominate 10 fellow bloggers you feel are worthy of this award
• Announce their nomination on their blog
• Plus, link a ping-back to the nominator’s blog

Questions for all nominees:

• Favourite colour? Purple
• Favourite animal? My two cats, Tigger & Mr. Tibbs
• Favourite number? 9
• Favourite non-alcoholic drink? Fizzy Water
• Favourite alcoholic drink? Mojito
• Facebook or Twitter? Never Twitted a day in my life, I do have a Facebook page but I only accept people I've met in real life - I'm old school like that.
• My Passions? Cooking, reading, writing, travelling, my fantastic son and my friends, not necessarily in that order!
• Giving or Receiving Gifts? Both are rewarding!

…And my 10 nominees are…

1. Zachary Philips Freeman http://freemanologist.com/
2. Voices of Glass http://voicesofglass.com/
3. Tink http://tinksdoterraoils.wordpress.com/
4. Infinite Sadness or Hope http://infinitesadnessorhope.wordpress.com/
5. Alienora Taylor http://glipho.com/alienorajt
6. David Farland http://glipho.com/davidfarland
7. Ruby Tuesday http://mywonderfulabnormalmind.com/ 
8.  Tallulah "Lulu" Stark http://sunnywithachanceofarmageddon.wordpress.com/
9. Manic Monday http://manicmonday123.wordpress.com
10. Alice@Wonderland http://aliceatwonderland.wordpress.com

…Go check out their fantastic blogs…

Thank you again ladies for nominating me and my little blog, this really means a lot to me!

Stop The Stigma, Spread The Word!

Like me, if you feel strongly about stopping the stigma attached to Mental Illness, and the way many of us are treated in society, here are some things that you can do...

1. Enlighten others on the subject;
2. Start a blog if you don't already have one;
3. To gather momentum and followers try some or all of the following:
   1. Join the Ultimate Blog Challenge, starting 1st July, to encourage you to write everyday;
   2. Join the Stand Up For Mental Health Campaign and display their button on your blog or website. You can also download their banners for Facebook, google Plus and a whole host of others, and display them on your Social Networking sites;
   3. Join the Blog for Mental Health Campaign and get on The Canvas of the Minds Blogroll;
   4. Join the Mental Health Writers' Guild and display their button on your blog.

After all it is said that Sanity is just Insanity put to good use!

U Is For The Ultimate Blog Challenge

Just over a month ago, I came across this banner on a blog I was reading and thought that I should try it. Now what was I going to write about? That was the big question, and like most people who enjoy writing I'd heard the adage about writing what you know, but what if what you know best is depression?

After all, I'd spent 10 years of my adult life battling this debilitating illness, crying for no apparent reason and willing myself, unsuccessfully I might add, out of the safety of my bed. I'd been evicted from my home, let the bills pile up unopened, had the bailiffs knocking on my door all because I simply couldn't face the world and the challenges it was throwing at me.

I had a lot to say on depression and what it had done to me, but was that enough? It was a good thing that since the beginning of the year I'd noticed a distinct improvement to my once gloomy disposition. With the help of a great doctor, who had finally found the right combination of anti-depressants for me, things were looking up.

On top of knowing the subject matter inside out - so to speak - I could also offer hope to the countless others out there going through what I'd been through, and I felt that that was important. If I could help people avoid the mistakes I'd made, perhaps even make a difference in just one person’s life that would be enough.

I set about getting a blog and writing my very first post. In the back of my mind I kept thinking if this doesn’t go well I can always stop, but the feedback I started to get, from people all over the world, was incredible. A real boost to my damaged self-confidence and this only encouraged me to keep writing. I’m so glad that I took up the challenge and started this blog, as the experience has been great!

J Is For The Journey Of Life

As the late, great John Lennon once sang 'life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans'. We can't control every little thing no matter how hard we try but part of the thrill of life is those unexpected twists and turns. You start on one course and end up on a very different one...

I know my life hasn't always gone as planned, but that journey has taken me to places I may never have visited of my own free volition. I never planned to succumb to depression - well let’s face it no one would - but that journey lead me to discover so much about myself. It is now very much a part of what makes me, me!

In all likelihood, I would have never started this blog or met some of the incredible people who have inspired me to keep writing. Looking back on my journey to date, some of the most memorable times in my life were the unplanned ones, the ones that just came about.

So for today, I'm happy to be me and to have friends who accept me for who I am. I now look forward to tomorrow and all that it may bring, like a blank page in a notebook waiting to be filled...

G Is For The Grass Isn’t Always Greener!

If you are sitting in the comfort of your living room, office or bedroom, reading this that probably means that you are lucky enough to have a roof over your head. Even if the end of each month is a perpetual financial juggle, there are people in the world who would give their right arm - metaphorically speaking - to have a place they could call home.

One thing that has always kept things in perspective for me, no matter how bad things got, was that at any given time, there is always someone worse off than I am. So today, I'd like to cast a thought for the people of Sri Lanka who has lived through 25 years of Civil War.

A war that has bought significant hardships to its people, with an estimated 80,000 to 100,000 people killed during its course. If that wasn't bad enough, in 2004 the Asian Tsunami killed over 35,000 people. Many of these people have lost their land, homes and loved ones, and for them every day is a struggle simply to survive.

So next time you're feeling down because your life hasn't turned out quite as you had planned remember that you would be considered lucky in another part of the world. Sadly there will always be people living through worse than you, just be grateful for what you do have and strive everyday to change the things that you can!

R Is For The Road To Recovery...

These last ten years have been very intense for me...

There were times when it felt like I'd moved forward two-steps only to jump back 15, but the one important thing to remember, for anyone out there going through a tough time, is I never gave up. There were times when everything seemed insurmountable, almost impossible, but with perseverance and patience, a way forward did become clear.

These days, I try not to spread myself too thin and only tackle one problem at a time, easier said than done sometimes. It is easy to slip back into old ways, but that is what led me down the dark and twisty road of depression in the first place. I now know that stress is my mortal enemy, and I avoid it like a hole in the head.

Five months ago, I took up Ashtanga yoga, which has helped me no end and I would recommend it to anyone dealing with enormous amounts of stress in their day-to-day lives. Furthermore, I use to have to visit my osteopath at least twice a year to get rid of all the knots and kinks in my back. Since starting yoga all my back problems have disappeared and I've regained the suppleness, I had in my twenties.

On a very different note, this weekend is the Jazz Marathon in Brussels. Two of my dearest friends will be doing their thing and I’m really looking forward to cheering them on. They have both been such a huge part of my life, and their encouragement and support throughout my ordeal have kept me relatively sane. Well, as I’ve said before I was never 100% sane to begin with and that’s okay!

W Is For Wake Up & Smell The Roses!

None of which was constructive...

Fast forward seven years and things weren't really any better. I'd just become very adept at brushing almost everything I couldn't cope with under the carpet. That was until the day came when I tripped over the aforementioned carpet, landed flat on my face, and everything came crashing down again. Only this time it was worse and I simply couldn't deny the facts any more.

I did try to go to work the next day, but that didn't work out quite how I had planned. So out of options I went to see my doctor - a different one from the last time. At least I had learnt from that experience. This time the doctor took the time to listen to what was actually going on in my life. He could see many of my symptoms were as a sat there opposite him crying uncontrollably, determinedly mutilating the damp tissue in my shaking hands.

Eight years down the line and I had just started to accept the fact that I was chronically depressed and contrary to by belief this was not a sign of weakness - quite the opposite in fact - not that it made me feel any better at the time.

Over the course of the next two years, spattered with the occasional up and lots of downs, I learnt to be patient with myself. Something rather novel for me as I'd never been very patient to begin with. There was some trial and error involved in finding the right combination of anti-depressants for me, but eventually the ups were more frequent and the down less debilitating. I was finally on the right track…

S Is For Sanity, Now Where Did I Put Mine?

I never really thought of myself as 100% sane, after all, I come with a nice little list of quirks. Don't we all? It wasn't until the end of 2002 that I started seriously questioning my sanity. Had I gone off the deep end or had my perception of the world changed? In all fairness to myself, it was a bit of both!

I had gone off the deep end, not that I fully realised it at the time. I'd become chronically depressed and due to my illness my perception of the world had changed. This wasn't something that happened overnight, it was a slow-growing parasite that only fully took hold at the beginning of 2003.

Now because I didn't know the first thing about depression and its debilitating effects, I honestly thought that I was going crazy. I no longer recognised the woman staring back at me in the mirror. I didn't recognise her way of thinking, her instabilities or her insecurities. These things were all new to me.

I did however know one thing for sure, that there was something definitely wrong with me. I just didn't know what it was, and that was the scariest thing of all. When a doctor told me that I was depressed my first instinct was to shake my head in disbelief. I'm a strong person who has surmounted every obstacle thrown my way. Surely, I can't be depressed!

That one little word kept coming back to haunt me until I eventually looked it up online and was amazed to discovered that actually I was, in no uncertain terms, depressed. This was not a turning point for me, which it should have been, but somewhere deep inside me I simply refused to believe what was right there in front of me.

I spent a long time raging against this new person I hardly knew and even more time trying to find the person I'd lost. None of which was constructive...

E Is For Cause & Effect

The release of the fifth version of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual (DSM) has created quiet a stir among psychiatrists and in the Media. I’m not a medical professional but I do have a vested interest in the way people suffering from a Mental Illness are treated, having suffered from chronic depression myself...

Just over 10 years ago, aged 32, my life fell apart. I went to see my, then, doctor who asked me a series of questions relating to my symptoms and quickly concluded that I was suffering from depression. I left his office with a prescription for Effexor (an antidepressant) and Xanax (an anti-anxiety) and was sent on my not so merry way. No follow-up appointment, no helpful tips or advice on how to deal with my illness, just a slip of paper.

Two weeks later, I work up, covered in bruises with absolutely no recollection of what had happened to me. It was beyond scary; I have always prided myself of being in control, one of the reasons I rarely drink and never to excess. Yet there I was on my 33^rd Birthday with a 3-day hole in my memory!

I got rid of all my medication, thought to hell with doctors and waited for the worse to pass. I spent many a dark day sitting on the edge of my bed trying to find the energy and motivation simply to get up. Now fast-forward 7 years, I’m back in that morbid dark place having suffered a rather public breakdown at work.

This time around, I was far luckier. I had a different doctor who actually took the time to ask me about my personal and professional life before even broaching the subject of symptoms. He discussed with me the different treatment options and chose one that suited me. He signed me off work and suggested things that I should change in my life. This doctor didn’t just treat my symptoms he went out of his way to discover the causes behind them, and that made all the difference!

Blog For Mental Health 2013

In order to raise awareness and stop the stigmas attached to Mental Health join me and... 

1.   Take the pledge by copying and pasting the following into a post featuring “Blog for Mental Health 2013″.

I pledge my commitment to the Blog For Mental Health 2013 Project. I will blog about mental health topics not only for myself, but for others. By displaying this badge, I show my pride, dedication, and acceptance for mental health. I use this to promote mental health education in the struggle to erase stigma.

2.   Link back to the person who pledged you.

A Canvas Of The Minds - a great blog so please check it out

3.   Write a short biography of your mental health, and what this means to you.

I battled with depression, brought on by stress, for 10 years. During that time, I made many mistakes, due in no small part to the fact that I perceived my illness as a failing on my part. It took me a long time, coupled with hindsight, to realise that I hadn't failed in my life, but rather that the circumstance of my life had failed me. I started my blog to bring hope to those currently suffering from the debilitating effects of depression that there is light at the end of what may seem like an unending tunnel. It has been quiet a ride, which has brought me here today!

4.   Pledge five others, and be sure to let them know!

• Nelly Neurotic 
• Jennifer Clark
• Gerald Bouthner
• Kay Woodcock
• Disraeli Davis

5.   Leave a comment on "A Canvas Of The Minds" Blog For Mental Health 2013 post and be added to their official blogroll

… And remember, 'Sanity is only Insanity put to good use!'

K Is For Kindness Towards Yourself!

Random Acts of Kindness Barnstar

There was a time when I loved myself unconditionally, and although I never claimed to be perfect I was happy with who I was. All that changed when I became depressed, for the first time I hated myself. Hated the fact that most days I couldn't get out of bed, hated myself for being, as I perceived it, pathetic.

It took me a long time to get over that hatred and learn to love myself again just the way I was. One of the reasons was because I could clearly remember who I once was, and I missed that person with every inch of my being. All I wanted was to get back to my old self, reclaim my life and carry on. Like that had worked so well for me!

Then one day I realised that the old me, the twenty-year-old me, the impatient me, the charge ahead regardless me, was gone forever. Not because of my illness but because I was no longer twenty. From that moment, I started the journey of discovering who the forty-year-old me was like.

I learnt to accept that change was just that and more often than not was for the best. Once I'd grieved for the twenty-year-old me and accepted that the thirty-year-old me had battled with the dark side, I set about loving the forty-year-old me. After all she wasn't so bad, she was wiser, more patient and far more in tune with herself.

So please be kind and gentler with yourself. There is only one you, and you can't really expect others to love you if you don't love yourself!

O Is For Ostrich Syndrome...

During the decade I battled with depression, I spent a number of years with my head in the sand. At the time, I had little money, even less energy, and was very ill-equipped for any kind of battle other than the one going on in my mind. So, I started to ignore certain aspects of my daily life.

One of my biggest dreads, at that time, was the mail. Gone were the days of receiving letters from friends who live on the other side of the world, or the picturesque postcard from those on holiday. Now days it's all ominous brown envelopes containing bills, bills and more bills.

My depressed addled brain reasoned that as I didn't have the money to pay the bills why put myself through the stress and worry. So I simply stopped opening those nasty brown envelops. As I'm sure you can imagine this didn't stop the bills from coming, oh no. Now I had a large shoebox full of those nasty brown envelopes.

I would kid myself that if I ever ran out of toilet paper those nasty brown envelopes would come in very handy. Of course, I never did run out of toilet paper and over the years, one large shoebox became two and then three. Unfortunately, bills like chewing gum on the bottom of your trainers have a tendency of sticking, sometime long after you've forgotten about them.

Now let me tell you that by the time I did get around to opening my mounting collection of brown envelopes, not only did I have debt collectors pestering me, but half the time I couldn't even remember which bill they were pestering me about. So, if you are living through a similar situation, don't do what I did. Ask a trusted friend or family member to take over the dreaded brown envelope duty until such a time when you are better able to cope.

'One Lovely Blog Award' Nomination & Nominees!

I’ve been nominated by the talented Alienora Taylor - check out her blog - for the One Lovely Blog Award. Like many great things in life this took me completely by surprise and totally made my day, so a Big Thank You to you for nominating me Alienora!

The rules of the ‘One Lovely Blog Award’:

• Add the “One Lovely Blog Award” image to your post
• Share seven things about you
• Pass the award on to seven nominees
• Thank the person who nominated you
• Inform the nominees by posting on their blogs

Seven things about me:

1. I have an absolutely brilliant Son who makes me proud to be a Mother.
2. I’m originally from New Zealand but was born in Belgium.
3. I’m bilingual English/French.
4. I love strong black Italian coffee.
5. I always take my pillow with me when I stay in hotels, I would take my duvet with me but it doesn’t fit in my suitcase.
6. I practice Yoga everyday.
7. I’ve been a vegetarian since my early teens.

…And my seven nominees are…

1. Ray http://themusicalpoet.wordpress.com/
2. One Starving Activist http://starvingactivist.wordpress.com/
3. Suzie81 http://suzie81.wordpress.com
4. Jennifer Clark http://jennlclark.blogspot.com/
5. Rayona Tuneelo http://anonymouspreach.blogspot.com/
6. A Long http://ajwrites57.blogspot.com/
7. Suzie Jones http://agirlabused.blogspot.com/

…Go check out their fantastic blog…

Words Too Many To Count...

Words, words and more words... Just 19 days ago, I started this blog about 'Mental Illness'. More specifically depression, something that I battled with for 10 years. Now let me tell you, it was one hell of a journey - emphasis on hell - filled with many twists and turns. I made mistakes, learnt from them and moved on.

At the time I started writing, I didn't even realise that May is 'Mental Health Awareness Month' that knowledge came about later. Like with many things in life you start with one idea which then evolves and takes on a life of its own, and that is what happened to this blog...

Over the course of the last 19 days, I've encountered many amazing people, who are battling with some form of 'Mental Illness' on a daily basis. Through their comments and observations, I was inspired to blog about things to avoid and things that could potentially help, but most of all I was inspired by these people's plight against the stigma attached to the word 'Mental'.

No one likes to be ill but stick the word 'Mental' into the mix, and suddenly you're to be avoided. I was lucky, but sadly an exception to the rule, that I never felt stigmatised by my illness. Throughout my journey, I was surrounded by open-minded, loving, caring people and that made all the difference.

So if you know someone who is suffering from a 'Mental Illness' and chances are you do, reach out to them and let them know that even though you may not understand what they are going through perhaps you can lighten their load. After all 'Mental Illness' is not elitist and does not discriminate, and although I would not wish it on anyone, it could happen to you!

F Is For True Friends...

... The kind of friends who stick with you through thick and thin. The kind of friends who don't give up on you, even when you might have given up on yourself. The kind of friends who love you unconditionally, without hidden agendas or judgement. These kinds of friends are rare, and hard to come by, but without whom you may not have made it through the really difficult times in your life.

I consider myself exceedingly lucky to have a small group of tight-knit friends who have done just that, no matter how crazy and irrational I became during my 10-year battle with depression. These are the people I would do anything for even if they never ask, I would still be there to help out anyway I could. Just like they were for me...

Since starting this blog I've had many people comment that they are afraid to admit their 'Mental Illness' to those nearest and dearest to them, for fear of losing them... This has not been my experience, and for that I'll be eternally grateful. If, however, this is your experience, I have one thing to say, that person/people were not your true friend(s) to begin with. This is not a reflection on you, but rather a reflection on them!

"A true friend is someone who thinks that you are a good egg
even though he knows that you are slightly cracked."
[Bernard Meltzer]

T Is For Therapist

My 10-year battle with depression led me to seek out a therapist’s help. As a sufferer of depression, you cannot unload everything of those nearest and dearest to you, and this is where a therapist comes into play.

One important piece of advice I can give you when looking for a therapist; find someone who has more life experience than you do. Someone who puts you directly at ease and in whose advice you trust.

 

This was not the case for me… The therapist I went to see was a good 15 years my junior, fresh out of University and had very little life experience of her own. She also had the annoying habit of pointing out the blatantly obvious, without ever taking into consideration the actual ramifications of her futile statements.

Things came to a head one day when she told me, not even suggested, that I had to move out of my lovely apartment and find somewhere cheaper to live. Like the thought had never crossed my mind, considering our previous long discussion about my then financial situation. I was frustrated and angry all at the same time. Angry with her for once again stating the obvious and frustrated with myself for letting my life get so out of hand.

That session did not end well; I got up from my chair and let her know, in no uncertain terms, that she had over stepped the mark before leaving her office and never returning!

Articles & Post you may find interesting:

• How to choose a therapist (dirtydepression.wordpress.com)
• How can I benefit from a therapist who doesn't seem very smart? (ask.metafilter.com)
• Psychiatrists under fire in Mental Health battle (guardian.co.uk)

The Sunshine Award Nomination!

I'm still gob-smacked, as I don't recall ever being nominated for anything, but a very talented young woman Rayona Tunelo has nominated me for the Sunshine Award and I'm over the moon!

Please find below the Sunshine Award’s simple rules:

• Post the Sunshine Award logo
• Then nominate 10 fellow bloggers you feel are worthy of this award
• Announce their nomination on their blog
• -back to the nominator’s blog

Questions for all nominees:

Favourite colour? Purple

Favourite animal? My two cats, Tigger & Mr. Tibbs

Favourite number? 9

Favourite non-alcoholic drink? Fizzy Water

Favourite alcoholic drink? Mojito

Facebook or Twitter? Never Twitted a day in my life, I do have a Facebook page but I only accept people I've met in real life - I'm old school like that.

My Passions? Cooking, reading, writing, travelling, my fantastic son and my friends, not necessarily in that order!

Giving or Receiving Gifts? Both are rewarding!

My 10 nominees along with their fantastic blogs, which you should check out, are:

1. Nelly Neurotic
2. Janine Mullenger
3. Vashti Quiroz-Vega
4. Martin Stephenson
5. Jessica Clauss Valentine
6. Megan Has OCD
7. Dizzy Lizzie
8. Michelle Stodden
9. Broken Halo
10. Emma Henly

Once again a Big Thank You to Rayona Tunelo for nominating me and don't forget to check out her blog...

C Is For A Cautionary Tale

Three years ago day-for-day I had a very public breakdown at work, in front of all and sundry. Not really my finest hour! This was not my first time in the dark corridors of depression, but I promised myself there and then that it would be my last.

When I went to see my doctor I honestly believed that I would take a couple of weeks off work and come back rested and relaxed. Well that was three years ago and I still haven’t gone back to work. Even though I’m doing a lot better I’m in no rush to go back into the stressful work environment that led me to my depressive breakdown in the first place.

 The only way to learn is by making mistakes, falling flat on your face, picking yourself up, brushing yourself off and trying something different. No one can get everything right the first time around; a certain amount of trial and error is required.

I can now look back over those three years with a sense of peace and achievement. I know myself better than I ever have before; I know my triggers, my boundaries and my limitations. I am at a point in my life where I’ve made enough mistakes to know what doesn’t work for me, and even though I still don’t have all the answer I do know the things I should avoid.

Interesting Articles:

• Fighting Depression - 4 Little Steps Go A Long Way (blogs.psychcentral.com)
• Hyperbole and a Half's Wrenching, True 'Adventures in Depression' (blogher.com)

P Is For Phobia (It's okay to laugh...)

We are all familiar with the children’s nursery rhyme ‘Little Miss Muffet’, first published in 1805. I can relate to Miss Muffet, although I would have screamed while running away. In case it’s not obvious, I’m spider phobic, no matter how big or small the eight legged beasties, fear takes over and common sense walks out the door in disgust.

In most cases, I consider myself a rational woman, with a three digit IQ and a logical mind to boot. Firstly, a spider is much smaller than I am, secondly, they capture insects in their webs and lastly they have ecological value, all-in-all useful little buggers. There is really no explaining it, but they scare the living daylight’s out of me.

The "Little Miss Muffet"
scenario explained by Denslow
(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In my humble opinion, my spider encounter was far more traumatic than Miss Muffet’s. I remember that it was a cold, sunny day. My alarm woke me at 7 O’clock and like every weekday, I begrudgingly headed for the bathroom and my wake up shower. After a good half-hour under the hot jets of water, I padded back to my bedroom, wrapped in my newly acquired soft bath-towel. That was as far as the comfort and luxury went in this house. For the first time since my student days, I was living in shared accommodation in north London. The tatty floral wallpaper and worn clashing carpeting screamed of the 50’s along with most of the furniture in the house.

As I entered my bedroom, I spotted what looked like a blotch of blood on my recently acquired pillow and pillowcase. Now as a child, I had suffered from nosebleeds but had eventually grown out of them. I drew closer to see exactly what it was and quickly retreated to the safety of the door. Unfortunately, it was not a nosebleed, but a big hairy spider that must have curled up beside me on my pillow. Then I can only assume that I must have rolled over in my sleep and squished my uninvited bed guest with my head. Even though the spider was as flat as a pancake and very dead, I screamed and then ran all the way back to the bathroom where I spent the next several hours washing my hair and scrubbing my scalp raw. Every time a strand of my hair brushed against my face, I’d scream.

I turned up to work a good four hours late, resembling a less than happy dried prune. It must have been a scary sight, as no one in the office approached my workspace to ask me why I was so late; then again, I gave no explanation. Usually a chatty person, I spent the rest of my workday in silence. Every now and again, I would jump in my chair, as my hair would tickle my face.

As I was getting ready to leave work, a brave colleague approached me and asked what had happened. Apart from the occasional twitch, I had started to see the funny side to the whole situation – except perhaps for the spider. So, I recounted my traumatic spider morning and my colleague found nothing better to do then joke that I’d probably squished the papa spider and now a jealous, vengeful mama spider was waiting for me at home. I laughed half-heartedly, but all the way home, I couldn’t quite shake the image of mama spider waiting for me.

I have a vivid imagination and by the time I arrived home, mama spider was the size of a large boulder with glowing red eyes and sharp fangs, just waiting to strike. As previously stated when fear takes over, common sense walks out the door. Speaking of which I was now standing in front of my bedroom door, heart pounding so loudly it resonated in my ears. I took a deep breath that came out as a nervous laugh, before opening the door.

I turned on the overhead light and let out the scream of all screams, while simultaneously removing my left shoe and repeatedly hitting the wall next to the light switch I’d just turned on. Where, believe it or not, mama spider was in fact waiting for me. I’m not a violent person by nature, I do have a temper, but it is always verbal, however verbally abusing a spider is not that effective, especially while screaming full throttle. Over the years, I’ve discovered that a good shoe is the best weapon against the eight-legged beasties. By the time I’d stopped hitting the wall, there wasn’t much left of mama. That was when the thought hit me… Mama spider and papa spider equals baby spiders, lots and lots of eight legged beasties.

I spent the next three hours lugging and pushing all the furniture that could pass through the doorframe into the hall. Then I hoovered every inch of my room and once I’d finished I hoovered it all over again, before pushing and lugging all the furniture back into my room.

Even though I was physically and mentally exhausted, I barely slept that night or the nights after. Every time I turned over the sheet would brush against me, sending me into a frenzy of action. First, I’d turn on my bedside lamp, second, I’d check under my duvet and sheet for vengeful orphaned baby spiders. Before, turning off the light and attempting to get some sleep. I must have repeated the process ten times, or more during the night, not to mention the following nights for the next couple of weeks!

L Is For Momentary Lapse

Yesterday started out great, I was upbeat and optimistic even though the weather was grey and drizzly. Then I received an email from someone I don't really know at all...

It is not always true that those who know us best can hurt us the most. After reading one short sentence I found myself, inexplicably crying, and not because what was written was sad. Rather, I felt that I'd been chastised by a child, and even though I put myself in the other person's shoes, it still left an all too familiar sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

This sudden burst of emotion took me by surprise, it had been a while since this had happened to me, damn those over active tear ducts. My first instinct was to reprimand that insolent child but at the same time I knew that what had been written wasn't meant to hurt, after all we didn't know each other. Yet somehow, that was exactly what that short sentence had done.

I took a long, hot shower, in the hope that it would wash away the negativity that had descended on me. I turned on my essential oil diffuser in an attempt to cleanse my mood. Finally, I curled up on my bed and went to sleep in the middle of the afternoon. Something else I haven't done in a while, consequently I was up until the wee hours of the morning.

Thankfully, when I woke up today the sun was shining not just outside but in me as well. It was all but a momentary lapse and not a step back into that dark place I’d resided in for so long!

Reality Is An Illusion, Albeit A Pretty Persistent One….

So said Albert Einstein and this is a point worth making, especially if you start feeling that things are getting on top of you. Take a deep breath and consider for a moment how you, and you alone, can change your reality, how you perceive your reality and hence how you live your reality.

It was this article that reminded me of this universal truth, I like the way she relates this back to a trapped bird, that way we have, particularly in times of stress, of - well - banging away at the problem rather than stepping back and considering it, looking for the opportunities, changing our ‘experience’ perspective.

Anyway, this is easier said than done when you are indeed ‘stuck’ in a bad place. Knowing this is in your head does not always help - so resorting to a few helpful little tricks to re-gain clarity is what is needed.

I always find dipping into a good transformational book helpful, and I mean dip, pick it up and open at random and see what insightful message is there for you.

Fresh air... go out, walk, run, cycle, shuffle, whatever it takes to fill your lungs with new air. And don’t let the weather become an excuse, too hot, too wet, too icy.... never mind... sometimes taking a stomp in the worst conditions is enough to get the blood coursing and that sense of gratitude you get when returning to your cosy home is priceless.

Of course lifting your mood would not be complete if I did not suggest some good quality essential oils to re-energise your space. Sprinkle pure lemon oil around the house before going out and banging the door. When you come back you will experience the lift only lemon oil can give - a real zing. I go for earthy tones if walking in the forest - frankincense is deep and powerful like walking through a cathedral, sandalwood also has that woody, supporting quality, and both are excellent aids for mediation. Blended essential oils are extremely powerful too, to help sleep, to restore, to help focus, to release pent-up frustration....

Back to the topic of meditation, a good walk helps to clear the head when just sitting in one spot trying to clear the clutter is not doing it for you...

If you would like to know my current favourite inspirational, transformational reading list ping me an email ….

By Janine Mullenger @ Special Little People

I Is For Individuality!

Why follow the pack, when you should be remembered for your individuality. Be proud of who you are, and what you have achieved thus far in life. Strive to do better everyday that is all anyone can ask of you, yourself included.

Remember, no one is perfect, and anyone who claims differently, in my opinion, is slightly deluded. Accept the good with the bad and the proverbial ugly, after all these things make up whom you are today. You can never be to everyone's liking, and if you were, imagine just how much of your true nature you would have to sacrifice.

People who have this innate need to berate and belittle often have deep-seated, unresolved, issues of their own. This is their problem, not yours. So next time someone criticises you or lets you know that they don't like you for one reason or another, thank them for the compliment. Inform them, with a smile, that it would be highly insulting if they did like you, as that would mean you were like them. Then walk away with you head held high, while they walk away with their tail between their legs.

Forget the pack and be true to yourself, be an individual worth remembering!

H Is For Herbal

Yesterday was such a lovely sunny day that I spent it sitting on a friend’s terrace, sipping a cool cocktail, or two, while catching up. It was the perfect end to a great week!

I have already discussed the more traditional methods used to treat depression, but there are some very good herbal remedies and essential oil blends to help us deal with stress, as well as improve our emotional well-being.

St. John's Wort is used to treat mild depression and anxiety, while Valerian is great for anxiety and insomnia. There are some wonderful Bach Flower Remedies for depression, anxiety and insomnia, namely Rescue Remedy and Rescue Sleep.

I've always enjoyed certain essential oil blends, either in a diffuser to infuse the house with their soothing smells, or a couple of drops in a nice hot bath to relax and revitalise. My two all time favourites are Tears and Stars. They are blended specifically for children but work equally well on us grown ups.

There are some essential oil blends in roll on format, which I always have with me in my handbag, for when you're on the go. In addition, try breathing through your nose, a practice called pranayama, equal breath, used in yoga.

Hope you all have a pleasant, stress free week!

N Is For NHS

I live in Brussels (Belgium) and the health care here, in my opinion, is wonderful. You pay a little every month, get to choose your doctor and 75% of all your medical costs are reimbursed. At the beginning of my depression, I would go and see my doctor once a week. He would always ask me how things were going, which more often than not, would ensue a deluge of tears from me. He would patiently listen to everything I had to say, no matter how ridiculous, and took copious notes. All this took time, but I never felt rushed, and he would never check his watch to see how long I'd been there.

As things progressed, I would visit him once every two weeks and finally once a month. If I didn't have the money to pay him straight away, he would give me my receipt, that I would hand it in to my Mutuelle (the Belgium equivalent of the NHS) so that I could be reimbursed first and then pay him. Whenever he had a box of my medication, he would give it to me for free. Now that's what I call a great service.

Last year, my mother who lives in the England, suffered a stroke and was paralysed down the left side of her body. As a consequence, I went over to be with her and help out any way I could. I came armed with a month’s supply of my medication, which eventually ran out. So, I went to see the local GP in the area and was shocked to discover than one appointment is 10 minutes. You can book a double appointment. However, these are in high demand and therefore hard to come by. To make matters worse my anti-anxiety medication, wasn't available in England so the GP gave me the next best thing.

As it transpired, the next best thing didn't work for me and was in fact Valium disguised as Diazepam, which is highly addictive. I was not best pleased, and neither was my doctor back in Belgium. During my eight-week stay in England, I really missed by regular doctor and at a time when I could have really used a friendly ear was on my own. My one saving grace were my nightly phone calls to my sister who lives in Italy, without those calls, when I would rant and rave, I would have gone totally around the bend. I still can't believe that those on high have the audacity to call it the National Health Service, when there is no service involved!

Interesting articles:

• Fears patients may have suffered harm or died due to NHS helpline failings (guardian.co.uk)
• Tough warnings for NHS 111 services (bbc.co.uk)
• Probe into new NHS 111 advice line (standard.co.uk)
• Three deaths investigated in relation to NHS 111 (telegraph.co.uk)
• Three deaths investigated involving NHS non-emergency 111 hotline (independent.co.uk)