31 May A Challenge Achieved & A Hereditary Case of the Wobbles
“Do you think that maybe you could tell Niamh to use a different word instead of ‘anxious’? She has been saying quite a bit to her friends that she feels anxious and in turn I think it may be making them wonder if they too are anxious? It’s a big emotion for 7 year olds…”
I just stood there, rather dumbfounded.
She was right in the middle of her SATS, using the correct word to describe how she was feeling in the correct context and I was being asked to help her to achieve an emotional dumbing down.
She was built just like me.
An over thinker, a worrier, a voluntary shoulder for all of the world’s problems.
She has already been referred to CAMHS over her anxiety and OCD tendencies so I was disappointed to be told that I should supress her honesty over the subject.
Telling her to not use a particular word would only result in her becoming compelled to use it.
Now more than ever I realise how important talking to others about your mental health is.
That being said there are times when I regret having been so honest about the reality of a breakdown.
There have been situations where I have felt that people’s opinions of me have been altered as a result of me holding up my hand and saying “I need a little help over here!”.
I feel a tremendous guilt that Niamh suffers like I do but all I can do is make sure that she gets the support that wasn’t available when I was her age.
I’ve been on the mend since my last episode, feeling better every day.
Still having the odd wobbly day but knowing that the next day will be better.
I got through my 10k on Sunday and felt elated.
I had built it up so much over the past few months and convinced myself I wouldn’t be able to do it but I did.
A group of us couldn’t face doing it in Manchester and opted to run the canal in Wigan.
It was a lovely event and we were delighted to raise lots for our chosen charities.
The results of my barium x-ray has shown up an esopheagal web or obstruction that will need a closer look at by endoscopy.
This has made me poo my pants big time.
I’ve looked up statistics of how many of these become cancerous and other associated health conditions and I have of course prepared myself for the worst case scenario.
I hope it’s a simple fix and then when that is out the way I will be able to start fresh.
This is the curse of having health anxiety.
You are only ever reassured at the particular moment you’re told you’re ok.
Then the cycle repeats……has that mole always been there? What is that headache? Why is my boob lumpy? Is it milk or a lump?
Holy shit, I’m a barrel of laughs aren’t I?
To top it all off I have had a really bad haircut.
Bad in the sense that it looks harsh and I am so self conscious of it!
I have lost my mojo big time
I found out the hard way that I don’t have the face for a retro fringe blunt bob any longer. I’m too mumsy.
So far It has been likened to a Stormtrooper and a German helmet.
Kill me now.