Tag Archives: Birthdays

Positives From Lockdown

Lockdown has been a hard time for so many people, myself included but I’ve also found some positive things have come from lockdown too. Therefore I thought I’d look at my positives.

1. A lockdown birthday

I had my birthday in June when everything was still pretty much shut and we could barely see anyone. It was one of my favourite birthdays. I went for a picnic and a walk and then went home and did what I wanted. No pressure whatsoever. So I reckon on my birthday we should have a lockdown each year.

Birthday walk and picnic

2. The 2 metre rule

Yep it’s been the bane of so many people but I want to keep this forever. I now have a reason to tell people to get out of my personal space or to move away from them without appearing rude. Long may it continue with people we don’t want to be near.

Picture from Pinterest

3. Wildlife returning

During my walks I have had great pleasure in spotting different wildlife that has returned to our local park. We had a regular heron (named Herbert by me and adopted by others). We also had some Little Egrets. We also got to see the regular geese, ducks and coots have their offspring. I got particularly involved with one pait of coots who had a tragedy when their nest was destroyed. Wildlife is amazing.

Herbert

4. Finding new hobbies

I have taken up drawing again. It’s something I’ve not done in years but I seem to of improved over the lockdown period. I’ve enjoyed extending my range and developed some confidence in this area. I even set up Facebook and Instagram pages for my art. I’ve also managed to do more Lego building, which I love but just could never find the time for. I’ve adapted my routines to incorporate these things.

A drawing of mine

5. Getting things done

I have managed to get so many jobs done. Things I’ve always put off as I’ve been to busy or tired to do them. I’ve enjoyed them too. It’s not just been the mundane daily life jobs but things I wouldn’t normally get to do. I built my mum’s Christmas present from 2018 for her which I’d been meaning to do since she received it.

Making Mum’s Christmas present from 2018

Overall lockdown has been tough for me and many others. It has by no means been a positive experience fully but there are positive bits in there. Sometimes we forget these among all the talk of death and failing businesses. What have been your positives? Feel free to share in the comments or on Twitter, Facebook or Instagram.

Birthday Lament

Please be aware that some of the content may be triggering.

Tomorrow is my 31st birthday. Every year it gets to me. Every year there are so many mixed feelings involving it. This year is no different.

My birthday has always been raised to that “it must be special” level by my parents. Especially my mum. I always have to want to do something for it. It has to be planned in advance. It has to be forced. In my experience this has led to let downs and feeling that it’s not that special when it’s mine and things go wrong.

The thing is you can’t control everything. You can’t control illness. You can’t control other people. You can’t control world events. When I was small I had all those parties with my class attending. I always found them overwhelming and would more than likely end up in tears. I wasn’t exactly great with the whole friendship thing. I liked people. I played with people. But it was like an obsession with a different kid each week. Now I know some of that is normal (I’ve taught children) but I was obsessive. But I never let them into my feelings or thoughts. It was all about them. It often ended in tears.

As I got older the parties trickled off and it would be things like bowling or swimming. Finding a group of friends wasn’t hard. I spent time with a particular group most of the time. But I was not in the inner circle. It was an odd number group so you know who was often on their own when the whole group was there. They all had best friends within the group. I didn’t. It was hard work. Feeling on the outside at your own birthday sucks.

Then I got to 18. Yup turning into an adult. By then I was at sixth form college. I had made new friends. I felt more comfortable with them. I invited a fairly large crowd from different classes to go out. I guessed I wouldn’t get everyone as my birthday was the Friday and we started our A levels on the Monday. But people said they’d come. I was looking forward to it. The day arrived. Then they all but one dropped out. I’d got a large table booked at a pizza place and it hurt walking in there with one friend and saying things had changed. In the end it was another guy from college’s 18th the same day so we joined him in a club with all his friends. This hurt more.

After that I decided I didn’t want to do the celebrations with friends thing anymore. No one cared. No one wanted to celebrate my existence and by that time I was wishing I didn’t exist anyway. Birthdays were meant to be special for people. Obviously not in my case.

Don’t get me wrong I did little things to celebrate but I’d rather do small things or just things I enjoyed. This didn’t please my mum. She wanted to make it a big deal always. Not that she didn’t ruin it from time to time. And the days after with her made up for it.

The first thing I did for my birthday that I truly enjoyed was for my 21st birthday with my best friend. We went to Brighton for the day (not on my actual birthday but that was the reason). The weather was atrocious but I didn’t care. She made me feel special. We laughed and had fun. We took random pictures and created the story we’d burnt down Brighton pier. (long story but fun). I loved it.

After that birthdays got tricky again. I started working full time and that always takes out some of the fun. (Why do we buy the cake?). And then I became really unwell mentally. I mean I’d had mental illness there a long time already but this was when it took everything from me. My existence was not to celebrate but proof I was still alive when I didn’t want to be. I was a failure.

And this is where it is still at as well. I think of the failure to die over and over. I don’t want to live but this is pushed on me. Why should I celebrate me when I hate me? And others hate me?

There is also a selfish side. I love making people feel special on their birthday. I want them to know how much they mean to me. I rarely get this on my birthday. I do have a few friends who will send me cards and presents. And I’m so grateful for that. But I will see those who just forget. I will feel like that 18 year old all over again. I hate myself for feeling that way. I hate how self centred I am. I should be grateful for what I’ve got (and I am) rather than focusing on those who just ignore it.

At the end of the day I’m not special. I should not be celebrated. My existence is a burden. Not a pleasure. I don’t want to be alive. I don’t want to celebrate my failure. But I also want to feel special in some weird paradox. I have so much hatred for these mixed feelings and my selfishness.

I Miss You

This is a personal piece. Please be aware some content may be triggering.

If things had gone to plan you’d be turning 14. You’d be mine. You’d be loved. You’d be cared for. I promise.

But my promises mean nothing. You’re not here. You never stepped on this earth. I never got to meet you. To hold you. To tell you I love you.

I do love you. I miss you even though I never met you. I want you here. I don’t care that you’d probably be a stroppy teenager. You’d be doing what you’d meant to be doing. You’d be growing up. Becoming independent. But you’d be mine. And I’d be yours. You’d always have someone.

The thing is I think to myself that maybe it’s for the best for you that you never came. I wouldn’t mess you up. You wouldn’t have to deal with your dad and what he was. I would of been to young and immature. I’m still too young and immature. I can’t even look after myself. You’d be better off without me.

I still love you though. You are a part of my heart that has been broken away. I feel incomplete. It all sounds cliché but it’s true. I’m a mum without a child. But I know many wouldn’t class me as one. Maybe I’m not really. Maybe I’m being above myself. Probably. I have no right to call myself that.

I wish you were here. We’d be getting ready to celebrate your birthday and Christmas. It would be so special. You would be my family. I’d do my best to make you happy. I’d do my best to protect you. I’d love you.

My memories of losing you are as clear as day. They were the worst days of my life. People don’t tell you what it will be like. And even if someone had I don’t think it would cover everything. And I would of been too young to understand before. How could a 15 year old know? It was scary. The whole situation. Finding out you were there was scary too but nothing to losing you. The guilt ate me up. It still does. Being alone with this secret for years because that’s what you were. I was ashamed. But it was never you I was ashamed of. It was me. I never stopped loving you, once I started.

I know you’d be amazing. I know you’d make me proud. I know you’d drive me crazy. I know I’d get cross some times. I know I would support you as best I could. I know I’d never stop loving you and I never will. I miss you.

If you’ve been in this situation you are not alone. Feel free to make contact via Twitter, Facebook or Instagram.

Picture from Pinterest

Shutting Out The World

This is a personal piece. Please be aware some of the content may be triggering.

Things at the moment aren’t great. I’m not in the best place. My head is a mess and I’m not tolerating the world very well. Therefore I’ve been shutting it out.

I know this is not the best course of action but at the moment it’s what I can cope with. The world feels overwhelming. People feel overwhelming. Life feels overwhelming.

I don’t know what has caused this decline. I have theories. It could just be a depressive episode. It could be the disjointed care. It could be turning 30. It could be a number of individual things or all of them combined. I don’t know. And I guess it doesn’t really matter.

Shutting out the world means avoiding Facebook interaction. It means not messaging friends. It means not asking for help. Instead I have replaced it with self harm and thinking of suicide. I have spent my time dwelling on the fact that everyone would be better if I was no longer here and have been on a mission to prove it to everyone.

I’ve also been experiencing physical symptoms. My body aches. My head is thumping. And I feel sick. I either sleep too little or too much. I either have no appetite or binge on food. It adds to the mental difficulties.

I hate myself for the way I’m coping. I hate myself for doing what I logically know is the wrong thing. I see it as protecting myself but realistically I need people and I need help. What help they can offer I don’t know. I guess I won’t if I don’t ask. The thing is I’m put off asking at the moment by the fact I have no stable care. I feel a burden to everyone, including those paid to care for me. I know I’m just another caseload that they could do without.

So what would my advice be for anyone else feeling this way? I guess it would be to do what feels like the hardest thing, ask for help. You deserve it. You are worth it. Now I just have to try and believe it for myself.

If you are struggling the Samaritans are available 24/7 in the UK. If you are outside the UK then please check out the crisis help page which can be accessed via the menu. To follow my experiences you can do so on Twitter, Facebook or Instagram.

Picture from Pinterest

Turning 30

This is a personal piece. Please be aware some of the content may be triggering.

I turn 30 on 1st June 2019 and I don’t want to. I know a lot of people struggle with turning a certain age and I’m not alone in this feeling but I felt I needed to write out my concerns and see if I could address them in any way as actually I probably can’t stop myself turning 30.

The thought of turning 30 is actually creating a high level of anxiety in me. I feel sick most of the time at the moment with the worry. It feels like such a big leap from being in my twenties to being in my thirties. It feels like the weight of expectation really kicks up a notch. Everyone seems to expect marriage and children and high flying careers. The thing is I’m nowhere near this at all. Most of my twenties has been given over to my mental illness. I’ve not felt able to date or work so I’m left with very little to show for the last decade. This wasn’t my expectation when I turned twenty.

I also, in the last few years, never expected to reach thirty. Even over the last few weeks things have been sufficiently difficult that I still didn’t know if I would make it. Suicide attempts have played a major role in my life. I have not wanted to live. Honestly I still don’t. And part of me feels like maybe I still might not get there. It’s not far off but it still feels surreal that I might make that milestone.

Another reason turning thirty fills me with worry is that I don’t feel old enough. I still feel like a child. I do not feel grown up enough. I feel stuck in my teenage years at most. I don’t feel like an adult. Maybe this is because I don’t have any of the things I was talking about before. But also I think it’s because I got ill so young. I feel trapped at that age.

For my thirtieth birthday I’m having a small party and this is adding to the anxiety. It was my choice and I did feel I should, for once, mark the milestone as my eighteenth was a washout (noone turned up) and I didn’t bother with my twenty first. I think part of me is worried it will be a repeat of my eighteenth with noone bothering but I’m also worried about being the centre of attention. The thought of everyone singing happy birthday to me makes me feel ill. I hate that I feel this way. I should be so grateful that people care and want to celebrate me (and I am) but it terrifies me.

So those are my concerns about my birthday. I have written before some tips about dealing with birthdays that you can view here. I may have to take some of these on board myself. If you have any thoughts or suggestions please feel free to share in the comments or on Twitter, Facebook or Instagram.

Picture from Pinterest

Birthdays

This is a personal piece. Please be trigger aware.

I recently had my birthday and it got me thinking and reflecting. So I thought I would share with you a few of my thoughts surrounding birthdays and tips for dealing with them.

I find birthdays quite stressful. I feel there is a lot of expectation associated with birthdays, especially to be happy. But when you have a mental illness this can feel impossible because, guess what world, mental illnesses don’t disappear for the day. Oh how joyous it would be if we could say to our mental illnesses “quit it, I’m having a day off for my birthday” but like I said it doesn’t work this way. I even had my support worker say I would feel better because its my birthday. How wrong she was.

How to deal with this expectation of happiness; first of all don’t put pressures on yourself (easier said than done I know) and don’t feel you need to put on a false face for others. Its your day. If you feel rubbish that’s OK. In fact it is OK to not be OK any day of the year. Just take the day as it comes.

Birthdays also have a huge expectation to socialise or do something to mark the day. If you dont want to though that is totally OK. It’s your day, no one else’s. Do what you enjoy. If you are forced into socialising though try to have something you enjoy arranged afterwards.

I find birthdays hard because I reflect and my past still bothers me intensely. For one birthday I was even sure I should not be alive to see it. If this is the case for you I first offer hugs. This is a tricky one to deal with but some self care may help. Self soothing and distractions can also be helpful.

On the whole birthdays can be times of stress (I even had a panic attack on my birthday) but there are ways to try and make em easier. If you have any tips please feel free to share them in the comments. And remember if you have a birthday it doesn’t have to be happy, sometimes you just need to take it as a day.