The End of an Era

Those of you who've been reading my blog a while, or who know me, will know that I've been wanting to move house. The damp and the stench that can't be sourced via contractors has been the least of my problems here.

Well, I did it, I felt the fear and I did it anyway - I'm moving tomorrow.

It's time to say goodbye to the place that has been my home for half my life. Someone said "it's the end of an era", and in many ways it is. Both me and my son grew up here. I had my 21st and 30th birthdays here and he had his 16th and 18th birthdays here. We never used to do things the easy way, so it's been a bumpy ride. This house has often been a Heartbreak Hotel for us.

There's been many a Dark Night of the Soul in this house. When you feel like you've given so much to life, but it never quite works out. When you feel like you can't go on anymore, but you know in your heart that you have to. There's been many tears shed. I sometimes wonder if that's why the house is so damp - a physical manifestation of the dominant energy here. 

In the beginning we had no money. I slept on floorboards for a while, we didn't have lamp shades, curtains, carpets or anything much. We didn't get any help from my sons dad who managed to dodge the CSA better than Lord Lucan would have done. He never visited, not once. 

I weighed less than 6 stone as I couldn't afford to eat. We were very lucky to have an excellent Health Visitor who rightly suspected my son was autistic and so made time to visit us weekly to support us. She was an Earth Angel, if ever I saw one.

As I got older and got better at coping, me and my son grew closer. These were perhaps my favourite times. We would buy jigsaws from school fayres and spend our spare time putting them together in our small space we shared. We had our own routine and the house began to feel like home.

It's not all bad: the house hosted some of the wildest parties. That was the beauty of it being rented and having a very deaf neighbour, who genuinely couldn't hear the rave going on next door. My favourite party was the Mr T Cocktail Party, where there was that much alcohol consumed it's a miracle that any of us made it out alive. That or the Bring An Inflatable party. Hmmm...

Some of our life's most special and poignant moments have happened here. We all have our own memories that we create in our homes, some we love to share and others, not so much. The thing with families is that you make up your own rules and have your own unique and quirky way of living behind closed doors. Currently, if you call at mine past 7pm you will likely find me sporting a cat onesie. You have been warned! 

I'd like if possible, to share some of our memories with you. There's too many major moments to share them all, so I'm just going to share the ones that stick in my mind or that have changed me as a person the most. 

For some reason, most of these have happened on our couch. Weird.

1) Mine and my sons after tea cuddles on the couch. We'd share our day together. My only regret is that I couldn't spend very long doing this, being a working single mum, I'd soon have to get up and get on with my jobs. 

2) Meeting my bro-in-law at my 21st party. I sort of knew he'd feature in our lives, but I didn't know how and he was actually with his girlfriend (not my sister) at the time. Funny how we sometimes know in advance what is going to happen.

3) Coming home after my son was diagnosed, sitting on the couch reeling from the news. My amazing friend (who deserves a blog post all of her own), instinctively called and I'll never forget her words as they were perfect and sparked my new positive outlook. She said "That's brilliant, Lou. At least now you'll know how to help him". One short sentence, one large step for me.

4) Bringing our cat home. He was scared of humans as he had been abused (we rescued him). He hid under the stairs for 2 weeks and I was starting to give up hope of helping him. I sat on the couch (of course) and wondered what I could try next. It had been a tough day in its own right and I was feeling particularly lost. That night, he sensed that I needed help. He came straight out the cupboard and with a knowing miaow, sat on my knee. Our love is still going strong to this day.  

5) Working on my low self esteem, I went to Assertiveness training at college. It started to uncover in me some memories. One night after college my mum had my son over night. I remember shaking like a leaf as I came through the front door. I decided to run a bath to help calm me down. I turned and looked in the bathroom mirror and it occurred to me that not so many years ago I had been repeatedly raped for years. This was the first time that I ever admitted that to myself. I didn't get the bath. I felt too vulnerable to be undressed. I sat on the cold bathroom floor and cried all night, knowing I had work in the morning.

6) Having my current partner over, as a friend. I barely spoke to him as I was so frightened of being hurt. He missed his train home and had to stay on the couch. As I left him to go up to my room to bed, I had a revelation and realised he'd have no idea why I was acting so odd. In my fetching PJ's, I crept downstairs to apologise to him and explain. We had our first hug right there. 

7) Several years later, on Christmas Day, he proposed to me...on The Couch.

8) The day my son finished school. We ripped all the books up and recycled them and were both so pleased and relieved that school was over. We felt free and like life was about to improve. I will probably blog about that school at some point - I need to let go of the anger over the way they treated both of us.  

9) A visit from my brother and his now wife to say they were getting married and moving to New York. Such exciting news and a major event in their lives and mine. 

10) Finding out I was losing my job of 12 years due to redundancy and coming home and crying, on, you guessed it...The Couch.

I think I might need a new couch.

The point is, it's been more tough than fun, but that is entirely my responsibility. Once I learnt to direct positive energy into my life, it started to change for the better. It's all in our hands and within our reach. 

Now I know this, our new home is going to be a retreat of love, light and laughter. When negative energy comes knocking, it's going to be left stranded at the door. 

This old smelly house has been witness to so many of my life lessons and memories, that despite everything it will always have a special place in my heart. When I turn the key one last time tomorrow, you can be sure a few tears will fall, for old times sake. 

I wish whoever rents this house next, the best of luck and hope they can find the happiness here that eluded me for so many years. 

It's Time To Talk

Throughout this blog you'll notice common themes relating to mental health issues and the problems I've had with mine.

It therefore felt fitting to write a blog post today in honour of the UK's Time To Talk campaign, which aims to end the taboo, stigma and falsehoods about mental health illnesses.

They say that 1 in 4 people will suffer mental health issues in their life, but not many will own up to it for fear of what people might think. There are also issues about employers not understanding, friends thinking you're crazy and even Drs looking down on you. No wonder people don't talk! 

It's my personal belief that more than 1 in 4 have suffered and that not all will even see their Dr about it or own up to themselves. This is perhaps the biggest victim of the stigma. As people reach breaking point - men, in particular - lives are lost and worlds torn apart.

From as young as I can remember I felt susceptible to energy around me. So, if someone was happy - I felt elated, conversely, if someone felt sad - I'd be devastated. For me, this is where it all began as it trip-wired a negative mind-set and started the anxiety rising in me. For others, there will be no trigger at all - contrary to popular belief, being depressed is not the same as being sad with a reason to be sad. The reason for depression is simple - it's because you're ill.

For some reason I felt more at comfort with the darker feelings and I somehow felt I deserved them. Somewhere deep inside me was self-hate. You can't hide self-hate - people can sense it. Due to this I attracted many people into my life who either hated me too or gave me more reasons to hate myself. These are the people I owe the most to, for they were brought to me by my sub-conscious, to challenge me to dare to self-love against all odds. They were my teachers and I know they meant me no harm.

In my darkest of hours, at my lowest of low, my sense of hopelessness was so strong that the only way out felt like ending my own life. I was just a teenager, yet life had defeated me already. On one occasion I tried and was distraught and even more hopeless that I had failed - it compounded my feeling that I failed at everything. The Drs wanted me to talk, but it was so overwhelming I didn't know what to say. My low self-esteem meant I was more concerned with saying what they wanted to hear and I couldn't guess what that might be. 

I'd like to say that I was treated well by Drs but they too reflected back at me the contempt I had for self. I wish I'd known about MIND back then. Perhaps they could have helped me? If you or someone you know is suffering, please check them out.

Once you've had mental health issues there's always a chance they'll come back. They sort of become a fragmented part of your make-up - the black dog that is always near you. For anyone who hasn't suffered, you might find this puzzling. "Don't let it get you down", "chin up", "look on the bright side", they say...It's the hardest battle of all to do those things when you're being held hostage by your own dark thoughts. The bright side evades you, eclipsed by the constant chatter of a hateful mind. You feel yourself swirling deeper and deeper in your own negative energy with nowhere else to go and nothing to hold on to. You drown and you don't even care. You want to choke on it, be consumed by it. You think you deserve it.

The description above might seem dramatic but having suffered; depression, anxiety, stress, PTSD and 2 nervous breakdowns, I can assure you I'm sparing you the real hurtful truth of how deep the cut goes.

There is no limit to the damage a mental illness can and will do to you, your loved ones and your world. It eats away at your happiness like a starved vulture, leaving just a few crumbs behind - just so you know what you're missing out on - and, of course, feel bad for it.

The road to recovery is a long one, steeped with challenges and not helped by the topic being taboo. A part of you still feels unworthy and so you would never ask for help or share your pain, preferring to paint a smile for the world to see and be comfortable with.

Thankfully, I found reiki, or it found me. Together we hunt down all traces of black dog and we release them day by day, replacing them with love and light. It's started a revolution in me - a love affair with myself and my life built on solid foundations.

There are many people fighting internal battles everyday. If we don't start to talk about it, it will never be safe for them to openly have those battles and we won't be able to support them. It's time to talk.

Will you talk about it today? You might just save a life in doing so. Start the conversation, end the stigma, not the life.

For more information on mental health and the #Timetotalk day please visit Time To Change