Joy In The Breath

A healthy happy life requires balance, easier said than done, at least back in my 20’s and 30’s. Looking back I rarely took the easy route, was always toughest on myself and as a perfectionist, I had to do everything myself. Not necessarily, the best plan, especially if you’re a single mother working full-time. Without going into all the details, suffice to say ‘I lived in interesting time…’

In 2001, my life started to spiral out of control, but I’d always been good at brushing problems, I had no solution to, under the proverbial carpet – a bit too good! Instead, I lived in denial, ignored my mounting symptoms while desperately trying to plough on through. By the end of 2002, I could no longer ignore the dark thoughts, constant negative internal monologues, and incessant crying for no good reason. Somewhere along the way I had turned into someone, I no longer recognised or liked for that matter. I was desperate to return to my usual sarcastic, independent self, and at this point was willing to try almost anything…

I went to see a Doctor and he confirmed what I already suspected, I was suffering from stress-induced depression, commonly known as professional burnout. I went home with a prescription for Effexor (antidepressant) and Xanax (anti-anxiety), along with a dose of anger at myself for letting down the side and not being strong enough. Antidepressants are not a quick and easy fix, just the opposite in my experience, they can take anywhere between 6 to 8 weeks to take effect. Then there are the side effects, some of which are no joke, like ‘…you may suffer from suicidal thoughts…’ I mean seriously!

Anyway, when the antidepressants did kick in I felt numb and disconnected, a feeling I didn’t enjoy and considering I was depressed, that’s saying something. Then one morning I woke up and came to the slow, horrible realisation that I had no memory of the last 3 days, not even a glimmer and that scared me. I flushed all the pills down the toilet, against the Doctor’s advice, and for a while, I went back to brushing things under the carpet... Unfortunately, the problem with the carpet trick is a completely new set of self-made problems involving bailiffs, debt collectors, and me hiding in my bathroom pretending not to be home, started popping up...

Fast forward to May 2010, and everything came to a head in the form of a total mental meltdown in the reception area of my work, not pretty. When I got home, I rang my Doctor (a different Doctor I’d been seeing for 3 years) who listened to me for as long as it took to sob out my story. He pointed out that stress-induced depression was the curse of the strong, which turned out to be the first step in accepting that I had not failed at my life but rather, the circumstances of my life had failed me, and I didn’t have the tools to deal with them. My Doctor also gave me a prescription for Sipralexa (antidepressant), an appointment for the next week and the next 2 weeks off work. 2 weeks turned into 6 years, several more antidepressants and their respective side effects...

It was a slow process, with a few ups and a lot of downs, and a steep learning curve. Then in December 2012, I started taking Remergon (antidepressant) and for a time I really did start to feel like my old self. However, by August 2013 one of those aforementioned side effects kicked in big time. I gained 19 kilos in some unusual places like my knees, elbows, and knuckles to mention a few. Let me tell you there’s something very depressing about not fitting into one’s jeans due to fat knees! I stopped taking Remergon and for a few months I was okay, but eventually, I felt myself slipping down that all too familiar slope... So in March 2014, I started on yet another antidepressant, Redomex, and wondered not for the first time why someone hadn’t come up with a ‘Reboot’ pill for the brain - a reset to default settings so to speak.

In March 2015, I came across a youtube video about an ex-paratrooper who’s Doctors told him that he’d never walk unaided again. After 15 years of believing them, he started a daily yoga practice and his transformation over the next 10 months was nothing short of incredible. I was inspired enough to go out and buy a yoga box set and one of the DVD’s was ‘Ashtanga Yoga for Beginners’ with Nicki Doane. The first time I practised, I had no expectations; I unrolled my mat and started the DVD.

That very first Sun Salutation going down into Chaturanga (Four-limbed staff pose) beads of sweat formed on my forehead, on the second the sweat rolled off my nose onto my mat. I had no control over my descent, which was more like a splat into the forming pool of sweat followed by muttering… There was nothing easy about it, I hadn’t moved like this in decades, but I kept the ex-paratrooper in mind and breathed on through! The DVD guided me up to Parshvottanasana (Sideways stretching pose), which took me about 45 minutes, and all the while the pool of sweat on my mat grew. When I sat down for the final 3 poses every inch of my body felt energized and my brain was silent, no dark thoughts, no negative monologues, just blissful contentment...

For the first time in 15 years, I felt fantastic, and that wasn’t something I took lightly given my history. The next morning, getting out of bed was a challenge. I hurt all over but I felt incredible. So along with my morning antidepressant, I unrolled my mat, started the DVD and sweated my way through it all again. Over the next 2 weeks, I repeated this routine and the pain got less, the poses got easier, but more importantly, I kept feeling fantastic. That’s when it dawned on me; Yoga was the reset button I’d been longing for throughout my illness and it was such an easy fix, with no side effects only benefits...

Over the next couple of months, I worked my way up to Navasana (Boat pose) – ‘Half Primary’ – and every day it got a little bit easier. Not to say there weren’t challenges, but by focusing on my breath and doing my best in that moment I could still flow through the practice and reap all the benefits. I now felt ready for a teacher and was very lucky to hit gold on the first strike with ‘The Ashtanga Space Brussels’ and Francesca Di Rosso.

Almost 3 years on and I still feel fantastic, I’m no longer on any form of medication, my knees are back to their usual size, and even better I’m now equipped with the tools – my daily yoga practice - to deal with most of what life can throw at me. After 15 years of searching, it was such an easy fix and my life is easier and a lot less stressful...

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!

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…

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.

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)

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)

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)

B Is For Brain & P Is For Pills

When you break a leg, you go to the ER, have the bone reset and wear a plaster. For a while, you walk around with the aid of crutches. If only it were that simple when the brain overloads and breaks down. Unfortunately, there is no reset for the brain, during the 10 years I battled with depression I often wished that there was.

The truth of the matter is a bit more complicated. A healthy brain needs transmitter chemicals - serotonin, noradrenaline, dopamine and the hormone melatonin - to circulate through the limbic system, which in turn regulates, among others, mood. A depressed brain stops producing these transmitter chemicals and let's face it, when that happens all hell breaks loose. This is where the pills come into play. They are your crutches that help you carry on, but first you need to see a doctor. No doctor, no pills!

Now speaking from experience, if you're depressed you need those pills. The first time around, I resisted the pill option with every fibre of my being, and then came the second time around. See what I'm getting at, and the second time was so much worse than the first. Hell is not a nice place to visit let alone take up residency, and that is what it feels like when you're depressed.

So the second time, I went to see my doctor, and he explained to me that my brain was like a sink. When all is well that sink has a plug, but while suffering from depression the plug is pulled from the sink and all those useful transmitter chemicals are just doing down the proverbial drain. The only way to find the plug and fill up that sink is through antidepressant.

In this department, science has come a long way. Today, not all antidepressant have horrible side effects and a long list of contra indications. There are many different kinds of antidepressants, and it's a case of finding the right ones that work for you. My advice here, once again from experience, is give them time to take effect. That bloody sink won't fill up overnight!

Interesting articles:

• Depression stems from miscommunication between brain cells (sciencedaily.com)
• Social stress and the inflamed brain (medicalxpress.com)
• Cerebral pacemaker cures depression (vr-zone.com)

M Is For Memory Or Lack Thereof!

For the first 30 odd years of my life, I was gifted with a picture perfect memory. I could remember entire conversations verbatim, what people wore the first time I met them, and a plethora of other information. I was always a confident person, and part of that confidence stemmed from my good memory.

My memory loss was due to chronic depression, brought on by stress! What a bummer I hear you say, well tell me about it. You're already at you lowest, and your confidence is taking a beating with all the dark, negative thoughts wandering around your brain. So, to add this to the pile, for me at least, was cruel and unusual punishment. So what did I do when my perfect memory, I relied on so much, turned into a sieve?

 

I compensated by writing everything down in one place - no point spending frantic hours searing for a scrap of paper - I used a handbag size notebook that I kept with me at all times. When, in a normal conversation I was stuck for a simple word, I would replace that word with thingamajig, thingmabob or whatchamacallit and call it a technical term! As soon as the person, I was having the conversation with, would say the word I would remember it. Now, when I meet someone new and they introduce themselves I'm up front and tell them that I'm really bad with names. Thankfully, my visual memory is more or less intact, and I remember faces.

Many people suffering from depression also suffer from short-term memory loss. This is due, in no small part, to the fact that the depressed brain has trouble concentrating and doesn't take in information properly. So of course, that information can't be recalled later, as it was never stored in the first place.

On an up note, I'm here to tell you that it does get better. I now remember that I've forgotten something!