Love is in The Air

February is the month of love thanks to Valentine’s day so here on Safe Space we wanted to take this theme and run with it but instead of the traditional love of another, we wanted to talk to you all about self-love. In this post you will see what self-love means to some of the team members, how hard it can be to love ourselves in a society that constantly points out your flaws and imperfections, and what actions we take when it comes to loving ourselves and putting our needs first.

Jess: I used to think that people who said that they loved themselves were lying. That’s such a sad statement to write, but it’s true. I was brought up in a society that encourages you to constantly want to change and tells you that you’re not good enough and if you dare to love yourself is quick to shut you down and tell you that you’re being big headed. As women we are taught to be humble and play down our achievements, that nobody likes a show off. Society constantly sends the message out to girls and women that loving yourself is not okay. So yes, growing up I found the idea of loving myself an impossible concept, so much so that I didn’t believe it when people told me that they felt that way about themselves and I find that incredibly sad.

This all changed for me last year when I started following women online who promoted self-love and body confidence whatever your shape or size. These women were bright, vibrant and from all walks of life. They all looked completely different but the one thing they had in common was that they radiated self-love and positive energy, not only for themselves, but for all women. I found their confidence beautiful and I realised that if they could love themselves then I could too. Something clicked for me and when I looked in the mirror I started to like what I saw. I’ve never felt so confident or sexy and yet nothing had changed except my own attitude towards my body. Other people noticed this change in me too and I started to receive so many compliments from the people around me.

Around the same time I also went into recovery for my mental illnesses and started doing things I never thought I would do. This gave me a huge surge of confidence in who I am as a person. It made me feel strong and capable and I gained a new level of self-respect that I’d never had before. This woman I was discovering was a badass and I liked her very much.

Over the past year I finally learned to love myself both inside and out, but like any relationship it’s not perfect. I still have days where I look in the mirror and don’t like what I see and there are still times where I doubt myself and think I’m not good enough but for the most part my attitude towards myself has completely changed. In learning to love myself I have also learned to take better care of myself, to be kind and to treat myself as I would a friend whether that is by giving myself a break when I’m not feeling well, knowing when to say no, or treating myself to a new lipstick. You’re the only person you’re with for your entire life and the relationship you have with yourself is the most important one of all. Loving yourself in a society that encourages you not to is a constant struggle but finding that inner love will give you an aura of confidence and self respect that you will carry with you for the rest of your life that no magazine or mean comment will ever be able to take away.

Louise:

I have a seven inch scar down the middle of my abdomen. It’s red and an ostomy bag sits on the right-hand side.

Scars are the map to my past.

My scars are also the battle wounds of my previous fights. Yep, fights. I’ve been a long-term battle with my body since September 2011. My invisible illness of Crohn’s Disease meant that I secret fought my body both physically and mentally. Most of the mental acceptance of having this invisible and chronic illness has been come from others being unable to see what is wrong with me; they can’t see how ill I am, they can’t feel my pain my guts have given me, they can’t understand how much I wish this wasn’t my life.

I still fight my body but now I am winning not only the physical battle but the mental one. It has taken five years, two big surgeries and multiple wounds to realise that my disease doesn’t mean I love myself any less. If anything, I have grown to appreciate my body and how I see my body because despite having something physical for people to identify my illness with – my ostomy bag and midline scar – I have grown to accept myself; scars and all.

People would consider my flaw to be the fact that I poop out of my abdomen now but I see that as my quirk. It isn’t a normal thing but it is by no means a rare thing either. So many people have ostomies and no one knows because they are concealed under clothing. I show my ostomy when I choose too; it is my little secret. I am proud of my secret and you are privileged if you have seen my ostomy bag. Don’t mistake my secret as a dirty little secret, I am supremely proud of my ostomy because it has changed my life and without it I would be still living a life of chronic pain, or possibly not even be here. I celebrate the fact that medicine has come this far to give me this in order to live a life I am proud of. I love my ostomy; it gives my life purpose. It gives me hope. I keeps me out of hospital. Its taught me that my body is a wonderful thing, despite its differences. I’ve accepted that it might look different, it might operate differently but it is still worthy of love. And I love it, for all that it is, and all it will be.

Lily: Learning to love and accept myself has been a long process that is still ongoing. For a long time, particularly growing up, I hated the way I looked. I hated that I was gangly and tall and I didn’t feel feminine, I hated that my hair was neither curly nor straight but this weird in between frizzy mess. I hated my spots and my braces and my nose. Honestly, I could go on.

Thankfully, a lot of that has changed, but it’s taken a long time. I try to embrace my height as much as possible, but there are still days I find difficult (trust me, clothes shopping when you’re a 6ft woman is not a fun or easy experience). I’m learning to love and embrace my natural hair for what it is despite society telling me all of the different products I could use to make it straighter and prettier and ‘more normal’ (don’t even get me started).

Growing up I can’t necessarily remember hating my personality but I think like many people I didn’t particularly like myself either. I’ve always just spoken without thinking and things have come out wrong. I don’t like a lot of the things a lot of people my age enjoy like drinking and clubbing – which is perfectly wonderful and valid if you do like those things, it’s just not for me. There was a period of time about two years ago when I hated myself for not being like other people my age – for being introverted, for having anxiety, for preferring a night in with pizza and Disney movies to ‘the sesh’ as it’s not referred to.

Over the past two years I’ve come to really start to accept that part of myself, and that it’s okay if I want to do things a bit differently to the rest of my peers. I love my interests and that sometimes I care maybe a bit too much. I know now that I can be a good listener and that people feel comfortable coming to me for advice and comfort and I love that about myself. It’s definitely a process that’s still ongoing, but I think I’m getting there.

Faye:

Only a few weeks back I wrote a post about how at the moment I am struggling to love my body. I keep looking in the mirror and not liking what I see. Cursing myself as my clothes feel tight and just do not seem to fit the way they used to. And of course, on top of that are all the connotations of what being bigger than people leads to and how it feels like I am taking up too much space - literally. However, today I wanted to talk a little bit about how despite not particularly loving my body right now, I do quite like myself. There are times, naturally when I hate my personality and I end up questioning everything I do and whether I am even a nice person or very good at what I do but more often than not, I love me.

This is something that has taken me a long time to do. For years I have struggled to love myself, did not feel that I was worthy of any love, let alone my own. But I have finally come to a place in my life where this has changed and I am so very happy about it because in my opinion, if you don’t love yourself then you will struggle a lot in life - as I did. I’m not entirely sure when or why I changed my mind about myself, but I did and I am glad for it. I love that I know who I am now. I love that I am stubborn, emotional and organised. I love that I am also messy, closed off and easy-going. Because these contradictions are what make me human. I love that I can be high as a kite just on air and that I can make people smile just by being me. I love my laugh and my weird quirks. These make me, me. Now I am not saying that loving myself is easy, there are times when I hate everything about me but it is my love of myself that keeps me alive and keeps me going and that is good enough for me. Plus, if I can’t love myself, who the hell else will?

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27 Things I've Learnt in 27 Years

Today I turn 27 years old and so I thought I would share with you 27 things I've learnt in my 27 years

1.) Life rarely goes to plan but that's okay, you will always end up where you need to be
2.) Whenever you can, do something creative and have fun whilst doing it
3.) It's okay to love your body and imperfections even when society says you shouldn't
4.) Friendships are the best kind of relationships
5.) Find a skincare routine that works for you and stick to it
6.) Not everyone will like you and that's okay
7.) Consulting Dr Google always ends in a death diagnosis
8.) Creating boundaries against toxic people and negativity is good for your mental health
9.) Sometimes the best things in life are unexpected
10.) Making mistakes is how you learn and grow as a person
11.) If you haven't got time for anything else, lipstick always makes you look more put together
12.) Your gut instinct is usually right
13.) Chinese food will always follow the end of either a very good or very bad day
14.) Stepping outside of your comfort zone expands your comfort zone
15.) Always make time for the things you love
16.) It’s okay to change
17.) Endings can be sad and scary but they’re also always the start of something new
18.) The people who truly love you will love you for your imperfections not in spite of them
19.) Being in recovery is not linear
20.) Shaving your legs is usually far more effort than it’s worth
21.) The most important relationship you’ll ever have in life is with yourself
22.) What you consider to be your weaknesses are usually your biggest strengths
23.) Being kinder than you have to be is always a good idea
24.) A new book makes everything better
25.) Things usually aren’t as scary as you build them up in your head to be
26.) Surround yourself with people who bring out the best version of you
27.) Who you are right now is enough

If you enjoyed this post, you can find more on: 

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Another Year, Another Us

We've all heard the expression New Year, New You, right? It's an expression that some people really dislike and some people jump onto like it's their saving grace but everyone can do what they want to. So at Safe Space we thought we would do a post that is sort of like the motto but is also slightly different. Because instead of looking at the things we can do to change our lives, instead of listing resolutions and looking to better ourselves, we are instead looking forward. We're looking and deciding where we would like to be this time next year. We want to be able to look back next year and work out if we actually achieved what we set out for. But we also just want to give ourselves an ultimate goal. So... without further ado, here is where some of the Safe Space team would like to be next year...

Faye:

When I was younger I always had a plan. I knew where I was going and how to get there. This, obviously, was made easier with the education system as most of my plans consisted of going to x school and studying x subject. But honestly when it came to the wider future, what to do after school, I was always a little bit stumped. I have been through so many potential career options and now, at 26, I still do not actually know what I want from my life. So over this next year, I want to try and feel a little more settled in life. I do not necessarily have to know my career aspirations, but I just want to feel settled. Currently I just feel lost and uncertain which definitely doesn’t help my mental health.

So this time next year I want to feel better mentally, I want to have a plan or be working towards a goal. I want to feel certain or at the very least to be okay not feeling so lost. But most importantly, I mostly just want to be happy. It’s a feeling that was very fleeting last year and I really want to change that.

Louise: 

This year I want no medical issues. I'd like a quiet year on that front.

Of course chronic illness doesn't abide to the calendar and it can be unpredictable in its nature. It won't matter if it's still the same year, things will happen and it waits for no man, no matter what.

So saying "I want a year with no medical issues" could be potentially overly ambitious or just plain stupid because my body *never* plays fair. But I will settle for no surgery and no hospital admissions. I want to spend this year getting comfortable in my new skin, working on the current challenges I have and improving my mental wellbeing; at how well I am able to cope with having an ostomy.

I want to be able to sit here in January 2018 and reflect on what I've done and be proud. Even if I don't do huge important milestones in that time, I want to be able to look at myself and be happy.

And for the first time in five years, I'm able to feel happy about planning for the future and being able to commit myself to activities and plans. I don't fear being away from home, away from my comfort blanket of my own room and bathroom;  I am able to see beyond my disease because of how my surgery has changed my life. Even my lifestyle. I am finally able to see ME instead of MY DISEASE.

Even if I just find some peace with my lot in life, I will gladly chalk 2017 up as a success.

Jess:

It’s true what they say, life really does happen when you’re busy making other plans. My life is nothing like I imagined it would be back when I was a teenger carefully mapping out my life ahead and that’s okay, because some of the best things that have ever happened to me have not been part of the plan and have just happened naturally because they needed to. So this year I want to loosen the reins a little bit and let go of my need to control everything. I’d like to be more spontaneous, letting life happen to me and just enjoy the journey more instead of being so focused on a set destination. A big part of my mental illness is about needing to be in control this can mean following a set daily routine or planning a trip months in advance but one thing I have learnt is that you can never predict what life will throw at you whether it be good or bad.

My goal for 2017 is to be more open to possibility, to say yes when opportunities come my way, and to do what I enjoy and see where it takes me. The times where I’ve thrown caution to the wind have been some of my happiest moments and have lead me down a road that I wouldn’t be on if I hadn’t taken a chance.

So here’s to a year of possibility, I can’t wait to see what road life puts me on next!

Lily:

For years I have made resolution upon resolution and almost always fail at them. This year I’ve already made the decision to have no real resolution, other than to be nicer to myself. I often get upset with myself when I don’t do as well as I expected at a job or at school, or when I’m not doing what is expected of me by others. But this year I want to say ‘screw it!’ to all that and to do what I want guilt-free.

This time next year I will be halfway through my degree which is kind of scary. I’d like to pass my first year with at least a 2:1. I’d like to feel more comfortable talking about my mental health to people IRL (which I’m working on) and also my sexuality (which I’m struggling with a bit more). I’m currently in a relatively good patch with my mental health and I’d like to still be in the same kind of place with it next year. Whilst my initial instinct is to be in control about everything, I’m trying to go with the flow more now. So whilst I would like to have figured out what I want to do post-studying a little more by January 2018, I don’t necessarily need to have a clear plan. Most of all, I just want to be happy and to make sure I do want I want, and not what other people want for me.

 

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Recovery is Hard

Since we last spoke, I have finished counselling. I am officially in recovery for my mental illnesses and it’s nothing like I thought it would be.

For the first couple of weeks after finishing therapy I was unstoppable, I was going out almost every day doing things that I haven’t done in years, I was on top of the world and having the time of my life. My social life was busier, I looked better, I felt better and I was making everyone around me so proud with my progress which gave me such a buzz and made me determined to push myself further.

For the past two weeks I’ve been going through a really hard time with some family stuff that I won’t go into here out of respect for my family’s privacy. Day by day I’ve been struggling and have felt myself deflate slowly like a balloon.

So right here, I’m going to admit something I haven’t told anyone.

I am in recovery and I am not okay.

I always imagined that when I reached that massive, far off, recovery milestone that things would be easier, that bad days would be a thing of the past and that I’d be able to function just like everyone else. But for me, that isn’t the case. I’m still ill.

Recovery is so much harder than I ever could have imagined. I still have days where it’s a struggle to get out of bed and I still have triggers that I’m not yet ready to face. The only difference is that before it felt okay to have these problems, whereas now there is so much expectation on me to be okay and instead of having my counsellor to guide me out of the darkness I have to try and find the way myself.

Now that I am in recovery I am feeling a lot of pressure to stay in recovery. I’m finding it harder than before to admit to the people around me when I’m struggling, but harder still is admitting it to myself because I am so scared of relapsing.

Recovery is not what I expected and right now I am going through the process of figuring out what it means to me. Here’s what I have so far:

• Being in recovery does NOT mean that I am cured
• It’s okay to have bad days
• Recovery is at my own pace, not anyone else’s
• Being in recovery means that I’m doing better than I was before
• Recovery is the process of returning back to a normal life. It doesn’t happen all at once

I’m learning that recovery is personal to each individual and that everyone’s journey is different. I’m still making great progress and when life throws bricks at me, I keep on getting right back up. That is what being in recovery means to me.

If you enjoyed this post, you can find more on: 

 Bloglovin' | Twitter | Jess Hearts Books

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Pokémon Go and My Mental Health

Like so many people across the world, this summer I have been playing Pokémon Go. There have been many mixed reports on this game, but for me personally, Pokémon Go has helped me in a way I never would have believed a game could. It’s gotten me out of the house, gave me a reason to face my anxiety, and has even given me a sense of achievement both in the game and in meeting big milestones in my mental health recovery.

For me, the best thing about Pokémon Go is that it is brilliant escapism. I might be out in the big wide world, but my brain is very much in Pokémon Go Land and that is a brilliant distraction from my anxiety. Instead of going out and worrying about crowded places, having a panic attack and my triggers, my mind is very much focused on what new Pokémon I may encounter today and how much further I have to walk before my egg hatches.

This summer I manged to visit two of my biggest PTSD trigger places and that is down to Pokémon Go. The first time was going to my local park (which I hadn’t been to in several years) because there was a Jigglypuff nearby. I was so into the game that I hadn’t stopped to take note of where I was until my best friend pointed it out to me. The other time was a trip to my town centre. Me and my friend decided to take a late night Pokéwalk. I set out planning to walk to the library (which happens to be a Pokéstop) and back, but I noticed there was another Pokéstop just up from that and so I walked further and further into town, telling myself just one more Pokéstop and then I could turn back if I needed to, each Pokéstop I reached was a huge goalpost for me mentally. What’s more is that I’ve since visited both trigger places a few times now and each time it loses a little bit more of its power over me as I create happy memories with my friends to replace the bad ones.

Last month when I was on holiday, I had a couple of bad days with my mental health. Normally, I would bow out of any plans arranged that day and take it easy in the holiday home, but on one particular day we’d made plans to go somewhere that I knew was supposed to be great for Pokémon so I pushed myself through it and ended up having one of my favourite days of the holiday. We were walking along by the beach when I caught my first Pikachu - an epic moment in any Pokémon Go players career - I was so, so excited. My dad turned to me and said “That’s the first time we’ve seen you smile today!” For a moment I felt bad about that, I was in a beautiful place yet I was more excited about a game, but then I remembered that without this game I might not have made it there at all. I might not have seen this gorgeous area, walked along the beach and created one of my favourite memories of this summer. So if a cute little yellow mouse was the thing that made me smile on a bad day, so be it.

I’ve been playing Pokémon Go since the day it first came out in the UK and I have only just reached level 13 but I am okay with that. My friends who downloaded it way later have already surpassed me and I’ll always probably be lagging behind everyone else, but that is okay. Because to me Pokémon Go is more than the level I’m on, or the CP of a Pokémon I’ve caught. The eggs that I’ve hatched are proof of the steps that I have taken outside of my house. Reaching a new Pokéstop means reaching a new goal in my mental health recovery, and every Pokémon Go medal that I earn are really mental health medals for every time that I’ve managed to push past my anxiety to go out and have fun. I doubt Pokémon Go will be around forever, and like all things it will fall out of fashion eventually, but for now it’s the stabilizers on my bike holding me steady whilst I get my bearings as I go out into the big wide world and for that I will always be grateful.

If you enjoyed this post, you can find more on: 

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Little Miracles

A few weeks ago Laura wrote a really fantastic post here on Safe Space about Milestones and how they change when you have a mental illness. This got me thinking about my own milestones and the progress I’ve made with my mental health recently. This past year I have really been pushing myself, but with every success that little voice in my head says

“Oh, that’s nothing to be proud of! People do that every day!”

And so I’d bury those feelings of pride and tell myself that my achievements were nothing. For years I have listened to that little voice so that it got to the point where I felt embarrassed that I’d actually consider the things I do to be achievements.

“Have you won an award?” that little voice would whisper “Bought a new house? Gotten engaged? No? Then shut up and sit down” It would tell me.

My achievements felt minuscule compared to what other people my age are doing with their lives but they weren’t small, in fact, they were massive.

I talked about these feelings with my counsellor who pointed out that some of the things that I am doing now felt impossible when I first came to see her and that is the word I used, impossible.

I fully believed that there were certain things that I would never be able to do again. The things that I’ve been doing recently are more than just milestones, they carry more weight than that, they’re miracles. If you told me a year ago the things I am doing now I would have laughed in your face and said “Yeah, when pigs fly!” because it seemed that miraculous to me. Yet here I am, making my own little miracles happen every day.

After this conversation with my counsellor, I decided to start documenting my mental health achievements in a journal. It didn’t take me long to fill an entire page. From smaller things like not washing my hands or sanitizing before eating, to bigger things like going somewhere that triggers PTSD memories. After ten minutes of frantically scribbling, I put down my pen and took a good hard look at all of my achievements and in that moment I let the pride that I always pushed down inside of me swell up into one big burst of sunshine.

Since that day a few weeks ago I have been trying to teach myself that it is okay to celebrate my little miracles. Instead of brushing them off as nothing, I have been telling my friends and family when I’ve managed to push past my anxiety and achieve something. I’ve been having mini solo celebrations with cake and a good book as a reward for being brave. But most importantly I have continued to document my successes and keep adding things to that list so that instead of letting my miracles float away unrecognised, I am catching hold of them like fireflies and appreciating the beauty of them in the few minutes that it takes for me to write each achievement down.

Every little miracle that I’ve made happen is now solid, documented and recognised by me for what it is. Each one is a vital step on my own personal mental health mountain, and one day when I reach the top of that mountain, I’ll be able to look back at all of those little miracles and gaze out into the distance at the steep slopes and jagged rocks that I overcame to get to this moment, I bet it will be a beautiful view.

If you enjoyed this post, you can find more on: 

 Bloglovin' | Twitter | Jess Hearts Books

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10 Things I Wish I Knew When I Was Diagnosed With Anxiety

I’ve been living with anxiety for over ten years now and I’ve learnt a lot about it and myself along the way. When I was first diagnosed, I remember being very scared and was given very little information about what having this mental illness meant for me from health care professionals. Looking back there is so much that I wish somebody had told me when I was first diagnosed, so today I wanted to share with you the ten things I wish I knew when I was first diagnosed with anxiety.

Panic Attacks Can’t Kill You 
Even though it really feels like you’re dying sometimes, panic attacks can’t actually kill you. My first therapist told me that most panic attacks usually don’t last longer than 20 minutes. Knowing this made having a panic attack a slightly less terrifying prospect and made them lose some of the power they had over me.

Avoidance Makes Things Worse
When I first developed anxiety, I quickly learnt that a great way to not feel anxious was to completely avoid the things that made me scared which later developed into agoraphobia. Although it’s really tempting to hide away from the things that scare you so that you don’t have to deal with them, it usually just makes the anxiety surrounding the situation worse. Every time you avoid a situation that makes you anxious you are feeding that belief. In my treatment for anxiety, I have learnt that the only way to get over a fear is to become familiar with it and create positive associations and memories around it. It takes a lot of courage to take that first step, but every time you face a fear it loses some of its power and gets easier the next time around.

Medication/Therapy Won’t Change Who You Are 
I used to be so afraid of the idea of taking medication for my anxiety or telling a therapist my deepest darkest thoughts and feelings. I was worried that by treating the mental illness it would mean changing a part of me. I wish I knew how much taking medication and going to therapy would help me so that I would have done it sooner. Medication and therapy has not changed who I am, it hasn’t messed with my brain and made me into an unfeeling zombie. It’s simply made me a less anxious person who can better manage their mental illness.

Not Everyone Will Understand 
The biggest frustration for me when I was first diagnosed with anxiety was how little the people around me seemed to understand about it. For many years my family were at a loss for what to do to help me, they just couldn’t understand why I was terrified of such normal mundane things. Something that really helped things click into place for my family was when I explained mental health in metaphors and related it to the way we treat physical health. Give the people around you time, be as open and honest as you feel comfortable with, pull information from the internet and learn as much about your illness as you can so that you can better explain it. The people you love might not always understand, but them asking questions and wanting to know more shows good intentions and is a starting point so don’t lose heart.

Take Baby Steps
The best method in confronting anxiety for me has been to break things down into baby steps. Scared to walk down the street? Start by just opening your front door. Increase how long you can keep that door open for. When you start to feel more comfortable, take a step outside. Work up to taking three steps away from your house. When you’re ready, walk to the nearest lamppost. See what I’m getting at here?

When it comes to facing your fears you don’t have to dive in at the deep end. Start with the step that feels the most doable to you and work your way up to the bigger stuff at your own pace. It doesn’t matter if it takes a week or a month or even longer to achieve your goal, you’re still kicking anxiety’s butt. Make sure that you celebrate your successes no matter how small they may seem, they’re each a step in the right direction.

Bad Days Are Allowed 
I used to worry so much if I was having a bad day/week/month with my anxiety that it meant that I was going backward. Now I’ve learned that it is completely normal and okay to have a bad day. Even people who don’t have a mental illness have bad days. Life isn’t perfect and there will be ups and downs along the way. These days, if I’m hit with a bad bout of anxiety I try to ride it out like a wave and if I have to take things back a step because everything suddenly seems too hard that is okay. Go back to your easiest step and start building yourself back up again.

Put Yourself First 
Like any illness, when you are unwell it is important that you prioritise and put yourself first. I used to feel really terrible if I had to cancel plans or let somebody down because my mental health was bad but now I realise that on the grand scale of things your health is more important. Never push yourself to do something you don’t feel ready to do for somebody else. Respect yourself, your boundaries and your health and don’t be afraid to take time out to rest and look after yourself.

Mental Illness Does Not = Crazy/Dangerous 
Oh boy, when I was first diagnosed with a mental illness I was so afraid to tell anyone in case they thought that I was crazy and/or dangerous. There is a really negative belief out there about people with mental illnesses and that they might pose a threat or be a danger to society. I used to be really frightened of myself and what I might be capable of. Having a mental illness does not make you dangerous or crazy. You are not about to go on a murderous rampage just because you are ill. So many people are living and functioning in this world with a mental illness. If having a mental illness turned us all by default into the crazy killer stereotype that horror writers are so fond of portraying then the world would be apocalyptic right about now.

Living Life Trumps Fear
Something that I have learnt only recently is that fear is not a good enough reason for me to not live the life I want to, not anymore. Every time that I have felt like I was going to pass out from panic but carried on anyway it has been worth it.

Every. Single. Time.

When it comes to doing the things I want to and living my life, fear is not a good enough reason to hold me back. I would rather be terrified and get to do what I want to, than let anxiety dictate what I can and can’t do. My life is of more value to me than fear.

You Will Get Better 
You know, people used to say this to me and I never believed them. I couldn’t imagine ever getting rid of this albatross that I carry around with me everywhere. Here’s the secret, when people say you will get better they don’t mean that your anxiety will get better, they mean that YOU will get better at managing it.

Ten years on from my diagnosis and I am still living with anxiety, it hasn’t gone away completely and to be honest, I don’t think it ever will. But *I* have gotten better. I have gotten better at dealing with it, I have gotten better at putting myself first, I have gotten better at riding out a panic attack, and I have gotten better at facing my fears. It takes time, but you come to learn your illness and how it affects you and at first you begin to cope and then you begin to thrive. Anxiety doesn’t get better, but you do my friend, you do.

If you enjoyed this post, you can find more on: 

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Guaranteed Smiles

Recently I’ve found myself having a series of bad days. Whether due to my mental health, a loved one being ill or the sadness of current world events, over the last few months day after day I’ve found myself feeling low. Then a few weeks ago, I came to the realization that the things I’ve been feeling sad about I can’t change, not really. So I started thinking about what I could change. If I can’t change the sad things that are currently going on in my life and in the world then maybe I can create more happiness to try and balance things out a little.

So I took out my journal and made a list of all of the things that are guaranteed to make me smile and since then I’ve made it a personal goal to do as many of the things on this list as I can when I feel sad. It doesn’t solve any problems, and it doesn’t make the bad things go away but it does steady my mood and helps me to recognise the good things in my life. So today I wanted to share with you my list of Guaranteed Smiles, I’d really encourage any of you to write your own list and put those little rays of happiness into action during those times when life gets dark.

Get Some Fresh Air – Whether taking a short walk, sitting in my garden or simply opening up the windows of my house, getting some fresh air into my lungs helps clear the cobwebs of my mind and makes it easier to breathe when I’m feeling anxious.

Do Something Nice For Someone – This can be something as simple as making someone a cup of tea, paying them a compliment, or buying them a little gift just because. Doing something nice for somebody else makes them happy and in my experience is the most natural way of making myself feel happy in return.

Feel Good Reads- Reading is one of the easiest ways to escape the world for a little while and when I’m feeling sad I like to read something feel good to cheer myself up. Two books that have made me smile recently are You Know Me Well by David Levithan and Nina LaCour and The Plumberry School of Comfort Food by Cathy Bramley.

Pizza – Pizza solves everything.

Surprise Yourself by Jack Garratt – I absolutely love this song and always listen to it on days when I don’t feel like I can cope. The music video for this is incredible, it follows a group of people doing something they didn’t think they could do, if you haven’t watched it yet then you should!

Fresh Flowers – If I’m having a bad mental health day I find it hard to leave my house and so having fresh flowers in my room allows me to bring a little bit of outside in. I usually choose bright colours that will really catch my eye and brighten my space.

Meg – My little dog is such a goofball. She loves life and seeing her play and explore the world always makes me happy.

Pamper Evenings – Sometimes feeling good on the outside helps me to feel better on the inside too. Looking after my body and treating it to some me-time makes me feel great and gives me space to mentally get my thoughts together.

Making Fun Plans – This is a big one for me. Having something on the horizon to look forward to be it a day out or hanging out with friends gives me something good to focus on. Knowing something fun is coming up in the future makes getting through a hard day that little bit easier.

Red Velvet Cake – The ultimate comfort food.

Lighting a Candle – There is something so peaceful about flickering candlelight and if the candle has a beautiful scent even better.

Twitter Favourites – I usually favourite things on Twitter that have made me laugh, have given me faith in the world, or have made me feel valued and loved. Scrolling through a great big list of lovely things that other people have said really cheers me up.

Writing My WIP – I’m currently working on a Women’s Fiction project set in the countryside at Christmas. This WIP contains so many of my favourite things and features characters that I love. Writing it sweeps me away to a place that I love spending time in. It’s also nice to play God and to be able to take control of the world and characters for a while - even if it is only fiction!

Jane the Virgin – This show is a new discovery of mine and it’s so cute I can’t even deal. I recently finished watching the first season on Netflix and am waiting impatiently for them to add season two.

Journaling - Writing in my journal allows me to get all of my thoughts and feelings out in a private place and sometimes just getting them down on to paper is all that is needed for me to feel better and make sense of a situation.

Trying a New Look – Playing around with makeup is one of my favourite ways to get creative and express myself. When I’m feeling down I love trying out new makeup looks and find it fun to switch things up a little (I’m sure this stems from the many teen films I’ve watched where a makeover has solved all of the heroines problems.)

Chatting to Friends – This year I’ve learnt to be really honest with my friends when I’m struggling instead of keeping it all inside. I’ve learnt that it’s okay to lean on them when I need support and that being totally open and honest creates a deeper and more valuable friendship with the people you allow to get close to you.

Making a List of Achievements – It’s easy to look at the people around you and think that they have achieved so much more than you and are in a better place. Instead, when you find yourself thinking those thoughts, turn the focus on you. What have you achieved this year? Make a list of everything you’ve accomplished and take a moment to acknowledge your successes and feel proud of yourself.

I’d love to know, what would be on your list of Guaranteed Smiles?

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The Man in the Alleyway

Trigger Warning: This post contains references to rape, abuse and domestic violence.

“Don’t wear that outfit” 

“Take off that makeup” 

“Don’t leave your drink unattended” 

“Stay with your friends” 

“Text me when you’re home so I know you’re safe” 

Beware. Beware. Beware. 

There comes a time in every girl’s life when they are taught to beware the man in the alleyway. Seemingly overnight we go from being little girls who are afraid of fictitious monsters hiding under our beds to being grown women afraid of a very real kind of monster: the abuser, the rapist, the man in the alleyway.

Our mothers, sisters and friends dust us off before a night out like a soldier going into battle, their eyes scanning for anything shiny that might catch the monsters eye. We are given the cautionary tale, warned of dark alleyways, strangers, monsters without faces. Inhuman beings that beat, rape and kill.

Imagining abusers as fictitious monsters that lurk in the shadows of alleyways and exist only with the intention to hurt is somewhat easier to stomach. It would be simpler if not wearing a short skirt or avoiding a certain area at night would be enough to keep the beasts away, but those monsters that we are taught to fear are actually people just like us. Abusers can be the men who we love and admire, handsome men with bright futures ahead of them, our bosses, partners and friends. Men who make us laugh and smile and feel loved. This is a fact that I think many still find hard to swallow. It would be so much easier to stay clear of harm’s way if abusers really were monsters who we could easily spot and identify but the sad truth is that the men who hurt women are all around us. They are the man in the alleyway we’ve been taught to fear.

There have been two recent cases in the media that have proven to me that society still believes in the mythological abuser. There is the horrific Stanford rape and the abuse actress Amber Heard suffered at the hands of her husband Johnny Depp. Both cases were presented in the media as a mistake instead of the crimes that they in fact were. Society would have us believe that if you’re handsome, successful and privileged you are incapable of being an abuser. That there are monsters in alleyways and then there are valued members of society who happen to have made a mistake. If Amber Heard was married to a balding middle aged man with a beer belly and a job outside of the public eye, when she bravely stepped forward to talk about the abuse she suffered she’d have become the medias darling, but because her husband happened to be Depp she was labelled a liar and a gold digger.

Statistics tell us that you’re more likely to be abused by someone you know than a stranger. This isn’t always the case, but I happened to fall into that majority. I have a story similar to Amber’s but on a much smaller scale. I was in a blissful relationship for 6 months; I was the envy of all of my friends. My boyfriend and I were the golden couple and he treated me like a princess, until he didn’t.

He was a master manipulator managing to not only manipulate me but also those around me. He’d polish his crown and play the part of prince charming in front of my friends and family only to become the beast behind closed doors. After years of abuse and one of many attempts on my life, I managed to safely end the relationship and find the courage to tell my friends and family. Sadly, there were people who I called my friends who did not believe me.

“But he’s so lovely!” 

I’d hear them say behind my back.

“She’s probably doing it for sympathy” 

They’d whisper to each other.

“He just doesn’t seem like the type” 

I’d hear them say repeatedly.

When the people around me said that they didn’t believe me, when it had taken everything I had in me to tell them, it was like they took mud with sharp stones and jagged glass and rubbed it into the wounds that my ex had already created. The only thing more dangerous than an abuser? A society who isn’t willing to believe and is ready with an excuse.

When we don’t believe reports of rape and abuse whether close to us or further away in the bright lights of Hollywood we are sending out a message to women everywhere saying: if you speak up you will be ignored. When the media use words like “alleged” and “supposed” it is conditioning us as a society to question by default instead of support. If there is evidence in court that points to a conviction and instead the abuser is let off with a lecture and a slapped wrist it teaches men that treating women this way is okay. As of right now this is the society that we live in, it is one where who the true victim is often gets confused.

For a safer and more just world it’s important that we become more familiar with what abuse looks like. For the young men in our homes who we raise it’s important that we teach them about consent and respecting women and for the victims who we haven’t been able to protect it is important that we listen and that we believe.

Words of warning silenced, judgments cast aside, it’s time we shone a bright light into those dark alleyways and look our monsters straight in the eye so that we can better recognise the face of an abuser.

Disclaimer: It's worth noting that women also abuse men and other women in LGBT relationships. This post is just based off my own personal experience with abuse.

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Big and Beautiful?

I am a fat girl.

I haven’t always been a fat girl. As a teenager I fluctuated between a UK size ten and twelve, it was only when my agoraphobia developed and I started taking antidepressants that I began to pile on weight. At my largest I was a size 22 and as of right now I am a size 16-18. Since putting on weight I have never really been comfortable in my body and have felt that it is something that I should be ashamed of and try to hide. I’ve avoided the bright and fashionable clothes that I wanted to wear in favour of dark tunics that hide my figure, there are fashion trends that I haven’t tried because I didn’t feel like I could “get away with them” and there are jeans that I’ve bought in a smaller size to entice me to lose weight.

Big and beautiful are two words that you never see together in a sentence and this year I’ve been really challenging why that is. What is it about being a bigger woman that is so unacceptable in our society? After a lot of research and questioning it seems there are two main reasons society tells us that we cannot be both big and beautiful.

1.) Being fat is unhealthy 

2.) Fat people are unattractive

Last week I went to see my doctor for a check-up, he asked me to step on to the scales so that he could update my medical file with my current weight. Turns out in the last few months I’ve lost almost a stone. My doctor, a medical professional, praised me for this weight loss and told me to keep up the good work. He did not ask me how I had come to lose the weight and if he had I would have told him that it was through a month of barely eating anything because my anxiety and depression were so bad and because stress would make me physically sick every day. As far as my doctor was concerned this weight loss was good and healthy, but was it really?

There is a lot of misinformation out there saying that fat people are lazy, that we eat too much junk food and are unhealthy but I have come to learn that that isn’t always true. I can’t claim to have the heathiest lifestyle ever but I do eat well and I do exercise. I eat fruits and salad for breakfast and lunch, I don’t drink alcohol or caffeine and every day I exercise when I take my dog out for a walk or run. I am not unhealthy and I’m not the only person who is carrying some extra weight whilst still living a healthy lifestyle - check out Faye’s brilliant post on the subject here. Assuming that every single fat person is unhealthy is like assuming that every thin person has an eating disorder. Bodies come in all different shapes and sizes that aren’t necessarily influenced by lifestyle. So is being fat always linked to being unhealthy? I’m gonna have to say no.

Body shapes and sizes go in and out of trend as much as fashion. In the fifties society thought it desirable to have a fuller curvier figure like Marilyn Monroe. In the nineties a thin straight up and down frame came into fashion with the arrival of Kate Moss and now in 2016 women are paying money to have the curves in all the right places look that the Kardashians are so well known for. What this tells me is that the “perfect body” is always changing, so doesn’t that suggest that there isn’t one superior body type? That every size is perfect and has been celebrated at some point throughout history? Despite Marilyn, Kate and Kim having very different bodies they all have one thing in common: confidence. They have each stepped out into the limelight rocking their body shapes unapologetically. I think that the confidence in their own skin is what’s desired here, not the actual body type and that the two things often get confused. So are bigger ladies really unattractive? Again, I’m going to have to say no.

Upon realising that the reasons most commonly given on why big can’t be beautiful are totally false and inaccurate I took a long hard look at my own body in the mirror. It was like taking off this lense that we’re all conditioned to develop and for the first time I saw myself for who I truly am and I liked what I saw in the mirror. Before, if a stranger was to ask me how I would describe my body I would say "curvy" or "full figured" to try and soften the image of what my body looks like. The F word was big and ugly and undesirable and wrong. But now I am learning to reclaim what it means to be fat in the same way that homosexuals have reclaimed the word queer and made it into this word that they identify with and how nerdy people have shown that being a geek really just means being smart and passionate. I think it’s time that we did the same thing with the word fat. I’m reclaiming it as my own by being unapologetic about who I am showing that fat means confidence, fat means healthy, fat means happy. When being fat becomes reconditioned in your mind to mean all of these wonderful things instead of what society tells you it should mean it suddenly takes away the power that word has to hurt you and turns it into something beautiful.

This year I have been on a journey in coming to terms with who I am and loving all of me, not just the parts that society deems acceptable. I’ve learnt that it’s okay to love the parts of you that society says are not worthy of love. Flip them the bird and show them that a big butt looks awesome in jeans, that you can rock the latest trends no matter your size, show the fuckers that you are beautiful and most of all worthy of love, self-love, the best kind of love that there is.

I am big and I am beautiful and no matter your body type you are too.

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My Breast Cancer Scare

You might have noticed that I was pretty MIA on Safe Space last month, and if you follow me on social media then you’ll probably know why.

In May I had a breast cancer scare.

I knew that I wanted to write about this experience but I wasn’t sure what I wanted to write about exactly. It’s all still pretty raw for me emotionally and I don’t want to go into the ins and outs of what happened. I’m sure you can all imagine what it entailed: a lot of doctors and hospital appointments, a lot of tests, a lot of waiting for results and a lot of anxiety.

Thankfully a story about being diagnosed with breast cancer is not a story that I have to share with you today and I have now been given the all clear with no further tests required. So I suppose that what I want to talk about is how this experience has changed me and what it has taught me because it has changed me, significantly.

For the past year I’ve been working on battling my anxiety and fears with my therapist, this usually involves taking small but steady steps one after the other over a period of time. When I found an unusual change in my right breast it forced me to abandon the baby steps that I’d been working on and run up onto a whole other staircase right at the very top of the anxiety building. Me, the girl who struggles to leave the house alone, suddenly had to go through a very real and terrifying situation that most people would find hard to deal with never mind someone with severe anxiety. I definitely felt like I’d been chucked in at the deep end and I was petrified. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t function. I spent most of May watching mind numbing daytime TV, seeing my counsellor and just trying to get from one doctors appointment to the next without breaking down, everything else went out of the window.

When I was given the final all clear, no further tests required, I was ecstatic. I’ve never experienced such pure relief and joy. Over the past month it felt like weight after weight was being piled on top of me and I was shaking and struggling to hold that weight, certain that the next weight added would be what made me crumble. Now I could finally put those weights down and it left me feeling strong. During this time I really got to know my own strength and just how much I can cope with so it suddenly became easier for me to pick up similar fears that carried the same weight and deal with them. I’ve since started to conquer some of my biggest fears like they’re a piece of cake.

When I was entertaining the very real possibility that I might have cancer the thought that kept running circles in my head over and over was but I haven’t even really started to live yet. I’ve spent so many years trying to protect myself from any harm coming my way by not leaving the house, carrying out OCD rituals and avoiding what my brain deems to be scary and unsafe places but in building a protective bubble around myself it didn’t keep something bad from reaching me but it did keep a whole lot of good things from touching my life.

Having this scare made me realise that the bubble I built around myself for protection hadn’t worked. I wasn’t immortal, I wasn’t immune from illness, and the safety precautions I have painstakingly taken for years hadn’t worked in keeping me safe. Danger had still found me, it had still worked its way into the bubble and in that moment the bubble popped. It was like being told that this miracle safety drug that I’d been taking was actually a placebo and with that knowledge the anxiety and depression came rushing back in waves.

After speaking to my counsellor I realise that at that moment when the bubble popped I had what they like to call “the breakthrough.” The reason why I was suddenly feeling my anxiety and depression so strongly again was because the usual unhealthy way I used to cope with it before like avoiding leaving the house and checking a switch was off a certain number of times wasn’t working anymore and so suddenly the anxiety and depression that I could usually contain and control this way was now flying around all over the place creating havoc in my brain.

My counsellor told me in our last session that now comes the hard part, now I have to learn to manage my mental illnesses in a healthy way and find new ways to cope now that the illusion that the bubble brought me has been broken, which is scary but also exciting. I had the realisation that I couldn’t protect myself from danger, that it’s actually out of my hands, that it doesn’t matter what I do to feel safe it actually doesn’t keep me safe and in knowing that there is fear but also a greater sense of freedom. Because if something as scary as cancer can find me in my own bubble then heck why not do what I want to do if I’m going to be in danger anyway? Why not go for a walk in the park? Or go shopping? Or try something new? If keeping myself safe is an impossibility then why not make my new priority doing what I want to do with my life so that next time I’m faced with my own mortality the first and overwhelming thought in my mind isn’t but I haven’t even really started to live yet because if this experience has taught me anything it’s that life is too damn short and I’ve already wasted so much time on what ifs? I’m one of the lucky ones and it is my duty to myself to make the most of the time that I have on this earth. To love deeply, to talk loudly, to live fully and to never let fear of the unknown hold me back again.

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I wanted to end this post by highlighting a brilliant campaign called #FeelitontheFirst started by young breast cancer survivor Nalie Agustin that encourages people to check their breasts for any changes on the first day of every month. This allows you to become really familiar with what your breasts look and feel like so that you will notice any unusual changes if they should occur. Breast cancer can happen to anyone of any age, any gender and any lifestyle and is highly treatable if caught early. There is a lot of false information about breast cancer on the internet so if you find a change stay off Google and talk to your GP, you will never be wasting anyone’s time.

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Reclaiming Myself - One Strand at a Time

I have a weird relationship with my hair. For the last eight years I’ve had the same hairstyle keeping it long and alternating between blonde and red in colour, that may seem pretty normal for some people but I used to be someone who worked in a hairdressers and would constantly change my hairstyle, just for fun. I’ve experimented with pretty much every hair colour going (it was even hot pink at one point) and have played around with styles and different types of hair extensions but that all changed in my late teens when I lost my hair from stress caused by being in an abusive relationship. It would fall out in clumps when I washed it and would literally snap off when I tried to brush it, the long thick hair that I’d always considered to be my best feature ended up breaking off into a thin and wispy bob that reached my chin. It stayed that way for a good couple of years until I eventually broke away from my ex and it slowly became healthy again and began to grow.

I haven’t dared cut it or change it too much since then, always preferring to play it safe in case it got damaged again. It finally grew back to the length it was before it all fell out and I swore that I would never have short hair again. I didn’t want to look in the mirror and be reminded of that time; I didn’t want to see the person I was then reflected back at me. I’d even go as far as to say that my hair became a safety blanket that I could use to hide behind letting it hang over my face as I walked down the street. Having long hair was proof that I was healthy, strong and out of that toxic relationship, that I wasn’t the same girl that I was back then because I didn’t look like her.

A couple of weeks ago I decided to cut my hair. I’ve been admiring shorter hairstyles (I’m looking at you Taylor Swift) for the past few years and thought about how I’d love to have my own hair that way but was too afraid to, not because of how it would look but because I wasn’t sure how I’d react to seeing myself that way again mentally. This year, with the help of my counsellor, I’ve been reconnecting with the old me who I shunned when I came out of that relationship. It was like I couldn’t deal with being that person anymore so I let her go and created a new identity so that I could move forward. In therapy I’ve been working on reclaiming those parts of myself that I cast aside and placing them back into my personality, kind of like a jigsaw. Being adventurous with my hair is just one of the jigsaw pieces.

                     

Before and After My New Haircut

For me cutting my hair was about so much more than simply wanting a new style, it’s being okay with who I was back then and even allowing that girl a little room in my present, it’s also about embracing a new chapter in my life. It’s doing something I really wanted to do and not letting anxiety or bad associations hold me back. It’s about taking what once was a bad experience that was out of my control and turning it into a positive experience where this is completely my choice.

My family do this thing where when they see me making progress they say “we’re getting the old Jess back” for years I rejected and even hated that statement because I did not like the old Jess. She was the girl who was hit by her boyfriend, she was the girl who was manipulated, she was this version of myself that I hated being. For many years I’ve blamed her for the abuse and rejected her, rejected me. Now after a lot of therapy I look at that young girl and realise that It. Was. Not. Her. Fault. I realise that I even like her, she was strong and intelligent and got us out of a shit situation before it was too late. I might not be here writing this without her.

That day when I cut my hair was me accepting that girl back into my life with open arms. It was me picking up a heart-shaped, dusty old piece of jigsaw and putting it back into the space where it has always belonged.

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