0936 hours Wednesday 14/6/17

So as of today I have decided to adopt a diary format for my blog.

I have for years kept a written diary that recorded my thoughts and feelings as time went by. Up until this juncture in regards this blog I have found a topic that is bothering me or that I wanted to explore, then sat down and let my fingers do the talking. However of late I have found that style has been hampering my ability to write effectively as I have felt I had covered 'all' the topics that would interest a stranger, so have written less and less blogs.

As of today I intend to sit and write a lot more regularly using all the detritus that is floating about my vacant head space at any given point in time.

As I sit writing this I am watching the horrors of the Grenfell Tower fire, the tower block in London, still unfolding to the nation via Good Morning Britain. I am not shamed to say that I have shed a tear or two watching the horrific images of people waving things at windows as they tried to attract the attention of the emergency services in what we now know was probably a vain attempt to attract rescue. I cannot help but look to the future and find myself considering the #mentalhealth of personnel who have and still are entering those 'houses of horror'.

Yesterday I had another day's worth of help from Save Our Soldier the charity that to date have already provided me with upwards of thirty hours of therapy to tackle what they believe to be my PTSD symptoms from 28 years worth of police service. In my last blog I looked at my feelings of negativity and the belief that I was not making any progress towards recovery, so yesterday we looked in depth at cultivating emotional resilience to allow me to find a life of wellbeing. We spent time exploring the concept that we can all step back from ourselves and observe ourselves in almost the third person. I need to accept that life in my future may never ever be the same again and that I need to find a way of accepting that, a way of understanding that  'I am enough'.

Fibromyalgia is a long term condition that will not just go away. It creates extreme pain in various areas of my body all of which I can say without any doubt get a lot, lot worse when I am under psychological pressure. I have to come to an understanding whereby I almost have to allow myself the permission to plan ahead and take life a lot more carefully. I need to stop battling with myself. What became clear to me yesterday is that I have been beating myself up because I can get back to being my 'old' self. I cannot just plough on through anything and everything expecting my body and brain to keep up. I may never ever have those same abilities again but that does not make me the failure I thought it did. I do not have to feel guilty or ashamed because I fear never being able to don a uniform again,  to be able to go about strenuous physical or psychological activities. There is no shame there. I am enough.

What I need to do is find my self esteem, locate the hope for my future, develop a curiosity for my life and discover a positive attitude towards my life. I need to develop psychological flexibility, an ability to accept who I am now, not what or who I have been, not who I thought I had to get back to being but who I am now and what I can achieve as the me of today. I felt shame. I felt guilt. I thought I had to get back to somebody I used to be. But my body is unwilling, my brain has been battling the notion for many months. Yesterday I realised that I can exist without my past self, I can wrap my arms around the person I find myself to be today and offer myself self compassion. There is a future without my past self, I can let her go in peace. I can stop trying to be something I am not. I am enough.

The therapist and I looked at 'What if's'

Our brains need to ponder, to pull thoughts apart. To mull things over. If left unattended it will mull over the negatives. What if I die. What if I cannot be a police officer ever again' What if I have a terminal illness being masked by Fibromyalgia's symptoms. However we can give our brains positive 'What if's' instead. Debbie called them juicy fodder for the brain. So we worked on finding positive 'what if's' for me. They are listed on the board photographed below.

Debbie identified that I have been feeling like a bird in a cage being stalked by a cat. She wants me to get to a position whereby I feel like that cat. A cat that always lands on it's feet as opposed to the trapped bird who is fearful of the world and life itself.

I am enough.

'Compassion for Cops' - #MentalHealthAwarenessWeek

I'm actually quite shocked looking at how long ago it is since I last wrote a blog post.

Over a month?

I have been aware of a hesitation to sit and write, because I have been feeling a little lost, a little unsure what the point of my voice is, in such a loud over populated environment.

Mental Health is all of a sudden the buzz phrase, taking centre stage, in the spotlight and all power to that, but as a consequence I have felt a little disconnected. That combined with my therapy sessions (detailed previously) and a very close friend dying have all come together to result in me feeling just a bit numb, in fact I'm a little unsure what I am meant to be feeling right about now!

This morning I made a comment on another post that seemed to spark emotion in others so I am going to concentrate on that for today and who knows it may light a fire under my own backside!

PC Dave Wise @CopThatCooks posted:

'Chances are that one of your shift mates is struggling with mental health. Be there for them. Be a friend.'

He made the post under the hashtag of #MentalHealthAwarenessWeek

I responded,

'How very, very true. let's ditch the bullshite bravado fellow cops and find our compassion for one another'

This response to these posts seemed well received and it got me thinking that we really do need to make a huge push to empower our colleagues to understand that

'Compassion for Cops' is hugely important.

Yes we all have our own shite going on, yes we all have bad days, but is there someone close to you at work who is over reacting at jobs, maybe getting really angry really quickly. Losing their temper where once before they would have laughed. Or like me, permanently tearful, be nice to me I welled up, shout at me I welled up, leave me alone I cried from loneliness. Being overwhelmed by our emotions, unable to hide behind our normal level of camouflage is a danger sign for depression sufferers. Some of us higher functioning anxiety sufferers can keep on going, juggling life's detritus but it can often only take one or two extra things to knock us and unlike others with a degree of resilience we have none and our worlds come tumbling down super quickly.

I talk from experience, I used to drive to work in tears, compose myself to walk up to my office from the car, start crying again as my heart pounded and I approached the office. Compose my self again and then enter the office head pounding, eyesight blurring, feeling nauseous and so exhausted it felt like bed time. There I would sit doing what was quite a stressful job, plodding along keeping a heavy workload moving until someone would say or do the slightest silliest thing and all of a sudden I would feel overwhelmed, like a wave had engulfed me in a strong sea and instantly I would feel vulnerable and afraid.

It's at times like this that force's will come to know and appreciate the benefits of a peer support group. When I was suffering there was nothing, no port to hide in during my personal storms. The toilets were my respite, a cubicle was a good place to sit, regain ones composure knowing you're safe and not going to be disturbed.

The triggers for us depression and anxiety sufferers' may seem like the most inconsequential events to others however it's just as the saying goes 'the straw that broke the camel's back'
Often it's not about the particular event in question at all, it's often something else, something darker, more personal and the trigger event is just a sign of an overflowing emotional reservoir.

If you know your crew mates you'll know if their behaviour has changed and I'd ask you to show them compassion not cynicism. Love not logic. Support not sniping. You don't actually have to do much. Just show them support, trust someone who knows, just knowing someone is trying to 'get' it, trying to understand and has your back is a milestone enough.

You are not expected to solve this situation. Digest that statement fully!!

Cops expect to bring order where once before chaos reigned. We're programmed to sort things out, make decisions, mend situations. As such we shy away from colleagues with mental health problems for two reasons, one because we secretly see them as a weak link which breaks our unwritten mantra of  'I've got your back' and secondly because we don't know how to mend them, or bring about order, we feel the need to find a way to quieten their inner chaos.

Nobody is expecting you to know how to mend them though! You really do not have to solve this problem!

I'm five months into sick leave, working with therapy and I still don't know how to mend myself!!

But compassion does goes a very long way. Balls to bravado people, us cops need compassion for one another and ourselves.

Compassions counts on a personal level too you see. Once you accept we are all imperfect human beings who make mistakes and that there is not one person alive that has not ballsed up at some point from your Chief to the new probationer you will be in a better place to live a happy and healthy life. Humans are fallible. What sets people apart is how they deal with their adversities. Making mistakes is what life is all about.

I'm currently trying to learn that if  I face my mistakes, accept them head on, live with them a while, process what's happened logically, no self blame, then choose to move on I'll be all the better for it. But burying crap, hiding it, carrying it around in your personal rucksack of burden for years becomes exhausting! This I do know from experience! If only we were all compassionate to ourselves and others the world would be a better place.

Listen people suffering with depression and anxiety look just like everybody else....that's because we are everybody else!! Seriously though we become experts at masking the pain that lurks just below the surface. we smile, we laugh, sometimes we even make ourselves the centre of attention for people to laugh at, because that way we get to affirm the feelings we feel inside that tell us people are laughing at us behind our backs. Trust me lots of sad very depressed people become/are clowns.
(Robin Williams was a classic incarnation of this as was Kenneth Williams, or even Peter Sellers)
I always used to try and put myself down before others did, gave me a feeling of control some how.

Anyway if a colleague approaches you or confides something in you feel proud, not panicked. Just feel good that they love and trust you enough to do so. Remember they are not looking for answers or solutions, they are looking for your compassion. A smile and an accepting nod will be a good start. A few kind words if you can find them.  You could in time work with them to find help, but mostly they'll just want your support, that smile and your compassion and understanding.

So you cops trust me it's not rocket science, and it's not scary. It's also not the appropriate subject of parade room banter, and it's not unusual to be discussed in public.  If you think the opposite then get with the times dude as you are sadly in the wrong decade.

The other little secret I'll leave you with,  is that whenever the depression sufferer tells you was when they first realised they had a problem that will be a lie, double the time frame suggested and add another year!!

We try to minimise, we try to pretend it's a new phenomena! Partially we believe ourselves, but its a protective white lie to test the reactions we get, but when we start trusting people, we start being wholly honest and then you'll come to know when the black dog first made contact with us.

Attention all cops... please RT and read

Dear Colleague,

Do you suffer with depression and anxiety?

Do you have any mental illness that affects you on a day to day basis?

No you answer all too quickly?!

Who me?! You think, no of course not, how could I,  I'm a cop, we deal with the nutters don't we? how could I possibly be one?!

BUT - Do you get angry unexpectedly? Or do things make you cry out of the blue? Perhaps you find yourself sat staring off in to space for no particular reason? Are you feeling frazzled, over loaded? Does your head ache more than most? Do you suffer from fatigue regardless of how much sleep you have had? Is your workload getting you down? Is it a psychological burden to you, something you're fretting about day in and day out. Do you wake up and immediately consider the outstanding jobs you have? Is your brain slower than normal, foggy, forgetful? Do you feel numb to things and spaced out? Do you question your ability and have low self esteem? Maybe you have unexplained aches and pains? And the future is bleak right?

If you answered yes to any of these things, then potentially you could have mental illnesses like depression and or anxiety and you need help because trust me it doesn't solve itself.

Have you declared any of these things to your supervision? I suspect the answer is no, but if you have what was the response?

Probably oh dear never mind, do the best you can!

Or sshhh... best to keep those thoughts to yourself, you don't want to sully your career with suggestions of instability or mental health issues do you?!

Or perhaps... you may have to move roles if you start talking like that!?

Or, that will affect your promotion chances you know...!

I know these things because officers responding to this blog have told me these exact stories.

I too have experienced all these things to some degree because I am a serving police officer too and I have depression, anxiety and fibromyalgia and I am currently off sick.

I have been off sick since Christmas 2016 and my force have been unable to offer me any real support. What I need is a psychiatric intervention, counselling, mental health support which is fairly obvious really! What I get though is referrals to occupational health, summonses to case conferences and silence.

There is a stigma currently attached to mental illness in the police service and it is high time this was changed. I understand why you keep quiet, why you hide your illness under your hats, why you hide behind your uniforms and bury your heads in your massive piles of paperwork... HOWEVER

There comes a time when people, cops, we have to stand up and be counted. Will you help with that?

Change will not start itself,  it needs pushing along.

I can shout and shout but me in isolation will not change things,

I need you to be brave, grasp the nettle and shout very loudly about your mental health.

HONESTY IS THE KEY TO FIGHTING THE STIGMA

Not only will that help the cause but yourself too.

You need to be able to look in the mirror and see yourself, not the fake, puffed out chest, I can cope with anything cop version, but you the gentle caring person you were before stress and anxiety ravaged you.

Peer support groups in every force need to become the norm. Access to psychiatric help within days needs to be the norm. Let's break down the STIGMA....NOW...

Acceptance of mental illness without the stigma is vital to a modern police service surviving.

Without change the future is bleak,staffing numbers are falling and work loads are increasing so more and more officers will need support and guidance not the current wall of silence and ignorance.

Will you stand tall and join my Black Dog Cops Pack?

We can make a difference for ourselves and others.

#MENTAL HEALTH MATTERS

What's your mental health kryptonite?

Last night I had a horrible dream. Well I guess perhaps it should be described as a nightmare. My eleven year old daughter drowned and died over and over. I felt the hopeless bottomless feeling of despair. A black bottomless pit, you're falling downwards and no one or nothing can stop you. I cried, I grieved. In fact it went on and on what felt like all night and when I woke up I felt so low.

I was overwhelmed to see my daughter, hold her and know she was alive. My pillow was wet and my hair soaked. Not a good night. 

I recount this with you as since my mental health has been bad again I have been having very realistic dreams. So much so that I have to stop myself when I'm awake and try and decipher whether I am remembering a reality or a dream. Quite unnerving.

I'm having a rollercoaster all around with my depression at the moment, two blogs back I was at my lowest, today I am also very low but yesterday and the previous days I was quite content if not reasonably balanced.  I can never tell until I wake up which extreme I am going to find myself at.

Yesterday I realised a lifelong dream and self published my book. I started writing it during my last depressed time two years ago and have worked on it around work ever since. It is kind of auto-biographical as the DS suffers with anxiety and depression and I've used all my personal experiences to create the character of DS Sarah James. Her emotions and difficulties with mental health are me, they are my experiences within the police service. She does my job, on my department. the murder didn't happen but the characters are true to life and it was cathartic to write.

So yesterday I published my masterpiece,  Money for Old Rope by Leasa Wilkes on Amazon Kindle eBooks',  that was a lifetime highlight and very exciting. Of course it was tainted with my normal self doubt, a need to apologise for fostering my work on the world and a massive fear that it is useless but that's fairly standard for me. Paranoia and self doubt figure in everything from parenting to supermarket shopping.  I have however had this daft dream that it will take off and earn me enough money to retire from the cops early allowing me to escape from my demons, but I fear that's just one of my dreams as opposed to a reality!

Yesterday I also had my second, 'how are you' email from work in the month since I have been off sick. Thankfully the boss did email me not ring but I can't help but thinking the timing of his contact means HR have prompted a contact as opposed to someone really caring. I suppose that could be my paranoia talking but that's one e mail every two weeks.

The thought of the office, work and even the people there makes me feel like I want to turn myself inside out. Its a creepy feeling that is somewhere between nausea and a panic attack. Revulsion even.  I feel allergic to an environment that has formed the basis of my working life since I was 19 years old. I now hate it and love it in equal measures, it is my greatest accomplishment yet my biggest weakness all at the same time. It's like my kryptonite, I feel weaker, sicker and darker when I think about work.

I made another step forwards today. I emailed Steps2Wellbeing, a free talking therapy service in the UK.  I was in their system two years ago having counselling but just prior to my fourth session and whilst I was sat waiting to go in I was told the counsellor had gone off sick with stress! Now I have always struggled with the concept of counselling as I recognise from policing that professionals are humans with their own garbage and are therefore only listening to me prattle on for their wages! So when she went sick I absorbed the blame as it felt as if all my misgivings had been confirmed. I made her sick, she didn't want to listen to me at all, she did have her own baggage and it is purely a job and she didn't give two hoots. Steps2wellbeing never re-contacted me to book me in with somebody else, or for that matter to apologise for dropping me out of their loop and I never re-contacted them.

So bearing in mind my current 'trigger' with telephones that I have covered before I have emailed them. phones make me sweat, hyper ventilate, panic and generally feel very unwell. Let us wait and see what comes of my email. But the email itself was an achievement trust me it's taken me a week since seeing the GP to get around to actually writing it!! But apparently according to my GP to even stand a chance at being considered for a PTSD diagnosis I have to see a psychologist via them?

On a more positive note I have had some great feedback from you all about these ramblings and whilst I feel I have something worthwhile to throw into the mental health mix I'll keep on writing. Feel free to follow me on twitter @BeachHutBabe24 if not already and if you're feeling really generous perhaps you could spend 99p on my book, read it and give me an honest review!!

Meeting the Black Dog

If ever there were a contrast then the last three days have shown me one. I've felt the blackest of the black stages of depression through to the light contented feeling that I currently have. So precious is the feeling that I am currently experiencing, that I have switched off the television for fear of seeing something that may taint my mood! I am not going to touch my emails or answer the phone until the school run forces me back to reality. For the here and now I am going to enjoy a buoyant mood.

It is much like walking a tight rope, I am confident and strong. Perfectly balanced, however it wouldn't take much to make me wobble and fall, so with that in mind I wanted to write whilst I feel positive and hopeful.

I think the cop in me is constantly looking for a solution to problems. Instead of comforting my daughter I'm always giving her strategies to solve the issue when all she may really want is a cuddle. Cops solve peoples problems and we expect to use the same tools on our families and emotions. We find it frustrating if not down right confusing when the same strategies fail.

I cannot help but think I can 'solve' depression which is essentially tosh as it is an illness much like diabetes or cancer. You can't snap out of those any more than you can depression.

So as a result of my 'problem solving' approach I find myself reflecting what it was that I wanted or needed from the police over the last two years since my diagnosed and disclosed depression that I didn't have?

Now support comes in various guises doesn't it? When you ask someone you know after they've been ill, "How are you?" what are you really expecting to hear? I am positive our British culture means we should accept the "How are you?" solely as someone being polite and showing an interest in you. They do not actually want to know the ins and outs of your illness. What they expect back is a 'Fine thank-you" before you move on to the weather or sport or soap operas. Our coded British conversations devoid of emotional connections other than on a superficial level. Try it out and I bet you when someone starts to actually tell you how they are, you'll switch off, raise your internal eye brows and then cut them short. We are a nation of stunted emotions!

Now that does not bode well for the person suffering with depression and anxiety because emotions are front and centre of every darned day whether you want them to be or not. Some days are good and some are bad, some days you want to cry, some days you want to lark around and have fun but ignoring these emotions and maintaining a stiff British upper lip will not wash.

• Talking therapy when you can actually discuss 'emotions' would have helped.
• Talking to like minded people would have helped.
• A buddy up scheme, would have helped.
• An hour of weekly counselling in job time, at job expense would have helped.
• Someone drawing up a coping strategy, identifying triggers, would have helped.

Instead the stigma prevents these things happening. The coded canteen culture when discussing people being off sick with stress is inevitably followed up with some form of skiver comment and there is a sad inevitably to that in my experience. I've done it, haven't you?

Yes there are people that may swing the lead however you never ever know what someone is going through. Depression is not a rash. It isn't worn as a badge so if you consider changing one thing, never automatically assume someone who is off sick with stress is a skiver. You cannot tell if someone suffers with depression unless you ask or they share. Often the nosiest, funniest people can be suffering the most. Robin Williams was a prime example of that.

I would have liked to have become part of a buddy scheme. A group of people, well police officers and police staff who suffer with mental health illnesses who could perhaps initially meet each other through an online/force chat room scenario. I personally wouldn't be able to meet someone face to face or go to a group session straight off the bat but if I built up trust through anonymous chat eventually followed at your own pace by a meeting or group meetings in job time, that would have helped.

I also think each force needs it's own counsellor. On the books, paid for, that automatically sees officers that have dealt with certain types of incident or who those who work in certain departments plus all those of us who need psychological support. I'm pretty certain it would pay for itself fairly quickly by keeping officers mentally healthy and fit for duty. Using outside agencies for counselling services, numbering the amount of qualifying sessions you are entitled to even before you've got their or assessed, expecting you the depressive/anxious person to arrange/book these terrifying sessions when you A/ hate phones B/hate new environments C/avoid counselling at all costs are all barriers to success. Force counsellors are the way forward boss people out there.

As it was I had a back to work interview with my line manager followed up with a risk assessment?! He might as well of had a placard with,

"You're a nutter we're covering our arses"

on the wall behind him. The boss completing the risk assessment asked me about my 'triggers' a fair and pertinent question. However I made the mistake of being honest. Certain office idiots had been  fairly brutal with their belittling and put downs. Explaining this to the boss though as one of my triggers met with a derisive snort immediately followed by him concurring with them and putting me down himself! Of course I then clammed up  just nodding and saying yes or no where necessary.
Apparently the risk assessment was due to be reviewed regularly but it wasn't and I didn't push it as that initial session had become a 'trigger' in itself!! But that's not the point I did need support and I didn't get it.

I battled on in the same department for two years,  a negative, counter productive environment. I started talking about my 'madness' openly and loudly out of sheer bloody mindedness as acknowledging my struggles publicly helped me deal with my daily ups and downs.

Not long before I fell ill again just before this Christmas I had two separate conversations with my two line managers. they job share. Suffice it to say that both expressed amazement that I was still suffering with depression?!

"But that was two years ago"

one said! Their little faces quite the picture when I reminded them that I was medicated for my depression and anxiety and had been throughout the last two years. I didn't miss the shock and disappointment on their faces either.

So in the absence of a force counsellor talk to your staff and colleagues. Ask them about their triggers, especially people with anxiety.

As an example - I hate telephones, talking on them makes me hyper ventilate, my heart races. They are a necessary evil but just recognising I may need some time to work myself up to a telephone call in itself would be helpful.

My message to police managers, if you have staff that suffer with depression or anxiety, talk to them about it, discuss their triggers with them and maybe even help them to draw up a coping strategy for dealing with those triggers. It's far easier if someone acknowledges the black dog in the room.

'Fine, Thank You?!'

So I've purposely left my blog until I settled back in to some sort of normality at work.


Plus I entered a book writing competition!! ITV's #thismorning are running a #BeaBestSeller competition! I've always wanted to write so I got my backside in to gear for a change and submitted an entry! Ho ho ho!!!
Anyway back to reality - I'm on a staged return which means stating off at minimal hours and then working gradually back up to normal.
Literally my first day back was the 5th November and I did two hours and left again. My boss did sit me down and gave me a little lecture on how to manage stress and he seemed to think seeing all my complainants face to face and not making any telephone calls would resolve my stress issues.


I think the UK cops have a lot to learn about managing people with depression and anxiety. I have been totally honest with them. Probably too honest! I've told them I'm on anti-depressants and taking beta blockers for anxiety. They know I was off for five and a half months. They know I'm on a staged return. But still I walk back through the door and nothing has changed really. I have not seen the occupational health people prior to or since returning. The job know I am waiting for counselling. There should at least be other fellow sufferers who could mentor you or contact you surely? It feels so lonely and isolating but in reality there must be others going through the same traumas?


I had a very bad day today and at one point was sat at my desk with tears rolling down my face but I gave myself a stern talking to and swallowed them away. The trigger for that particular emotion welling up was the fact HR have sent me through course dates/warnings for next February. A course that runs on three consecutive days from 1330 x 2130 daily. I single parent and have no overnight/evening child care. I stupidly said out loud how bloody ridiculous this was for me. The office sort of turned on me and told me to man up and then suggested 'perhaps do the early one instead then'. Apparently there is also a course at 0730 x 1230. Also no use to me for similar reasons. My daughter doesn't stay overnight with her dad as she gets very anxious and upset. So she is always home with me. The idea of sorting this particular problem out to manage to be able to attend this course was enough to push me over the edge. The office mean well but do not have the faintest idea how it feels to be freaked out by such simple things. They do not know the feeling of being completely overwhelmed and scared by daft day to day worries such as a silly course and child care arrangements. What's is worse is that I know in my heart of hearts how pathetic I sound whining about it and worrying about it out loud. But that is how I feel, I cannot change it, much as I would love to.
It's like people keep asking me how I am, 'are you better?' Grrr my pet hate because I have to lie and paint on a false smile on my face to cover the hurt I'm really feeling.  I was on the verge today because when one person asked I snapped back 'you don't really want an honest answer to that do you? Nobody really wants to know they just expect back that bog standard 'fine thank you' The look I got was priceless and realising the confusion he was experiencing at my outburst I just wound my neck in really quickly and smiled sweetly and said 'fine thank you'!!!
As I drove home I couldn't help but think about my future and how the hell I am going to get through another ten years to make my full pension?! Even five years seems like a life time. If I'm already back to crying at three hours twice a week what hope is there for me?


I was also thinking today how confusing it is to not be able to pull myself together. What I mean is as a cop we generally just shrug things off. Get on with stuff. Keep on moving. But I'm struggling badly as I cannot shake off this darkness. I'm trying to pull myself together so hard but it's just not happening. How long will I get away with pretending to be 'normal' I wonder?! I feel like such a fraud sitting there at my desk dressed in my business clothes looking like I'm a professional when I feel anything but professional!


I feel like an empty husk, the grass seed that was my former self has floated away on an unseen gust of wind!
Anyway making tea beckons..... Catch you all soon x

Assessment phone call

I've just spent fifty minutes on the telephone to Steps2Wellbeing for my 'assessment' phone call, as referred by my GP.
What an odd experience that was. I found the endless questions that started on a scale of 1-8 how..... very disconcerting. I appreciate and understand the purpose but trying to compartmentalise the way you feel into survey type questions is really off putting.
Then she asked me what sort of therapy I thought I needed? Throwing the ball into my court so to speak! There was me thinking you'd tell me I wanted to scream back at her! So I asked her what there was available not really knowing and therefore struggling to answer her. So she starts rambling on about low intensity telephone based/computer input with a workbook, or high intensity counselling or high intensity CBT. Crikey it all sounded like a work out schedule!
Again having outlined the available therapies she threw the ball back into my court.... All I can say is it's a good job I've been self reflecting and writing things down over the last few days as it gave me a small heads up as to how I am really feeling and what I feel I really need.
As I had explained and rambled away to her on the phone I began to realise that it's more than possible that all my issues stem right back to my over bearing, psychologically tortuous Mother who bullied me unrelentingly throughout my childhood and way on into my adult years. I was explaining to her how I had had a period of stress and counselling back in 2002 and it then dawned on me as I was explaining it that this was around the time my Dad had his affair and left my Mother.
It was also at this juncture that Mother and I had a blazing row on the telephone around the subject and she gave me an ultimatum. 'Ditch your Dad and have nothing more to do with him or I want nothing more to do with you.' She put the emotional thumb screws on saying he'd wronged her and how could I want anything to do with him. I recall arguing back that he had done wrong but that I could still have both of my parents in my life. It was at this point that she started screaming abuse down the telephone and I said I was going to end the call if she continued to abuse me. She continued and I hung up. I have not spoken to her from that day to this.
In 2005 when I had my daughter I wrote to her offering her the opportunity to have a relationship with Ellie if not me. She wrote back telling me it was a 'fate worse than death' and that she would one day tell my darling daughter what a bitch her Mum really was. Charming!
For several years thereafter I tried to maintain a relationship with my family (her relatives) in Cornwall but as she saw them a lot and she seemed to have told them her own version of events and I felt myself turning into a black sheep and for what?
Dad and his new lady Sue married several days after Ellie was born. I wasn't invited.  It took me a while to accept Sue but I did and she was an incredible woman but sadly as I said in a previous blog she has recently passed away.
When I look back at it all I think the way I am, the damaged individual I have become, my history, my family is more than likely where all these issues started.


The lady on the telephone agreed and we decided that one to one counselling to deal with the past was paramount before then perhaps moving to CBT type work. Then the blow.....there's a long waiting list I think she said. I'll get the admin staff to call you but it'll be quite a while before we can help! Great I thought!


Whilst I'm airing my thoughts on family... I haven't spent one single Christmas with my family in 20 years? I haven't been invited to share Christmas or birthdays in that long. Is that normal?
I also recall one Christmas on my own when my parents were still together them ringing me and regaling me with the tales of all the lovely social functions they had planned for the festive season and Christmas Day. They then asked me what I was doing for Christmas Day....I'm on my own I said, I'll have a ready meal for one. Oh enjoy that then was the response. No invite, no love just rejection.


I recall when my relationship with my daughters Dad was failing and I just had to escape from the house I paid for a holiday property down near where my Dad and Sue lived. I was hoping that I would feel the love, maybe they'd want to help me or see me. Ellie was quite small. As it was they didn't really seem that interested all week until they then agreed to come and spend a day with me. I was so excited. I got Ellie up early, bathed her, dressed her in beautiful clothes and went through quite a ritual preparing ourselves for a 'family' day. Then Dad rang and cancelled. Sorry I have my books to do for the accountant I can't afford the time. My world collapsed and I remember sitting on the bed howling in despair. He offered me a crumb by saying come to lunch tomorrow...bring something to eat?! So daft old me ..I did. Whilst I was there Sue managed to drop a clanger by telling me what a lovely day they'd had at the garden centre the day before. Well what a punch in the guts that was I can tell you.
In fact I only ever stayed over with Dad and Sue once. The morning after the 'night' so to speak I wasn't offered breakfast and our bags were brought down from the spare room and put by the front door for us! Bit of a clue I thought to leave!!


Are these the reasons I don't socialise... because I'm scared of rejection?
If you can't trust your parents to love you, cherish you and want to spend time with you, why would anyone else want you?
Is that why I feel like a nothing and a nobody?


I love my Dad dearly but he's always pushed me away, there's always been something more important to do or somebody more important to spend the time with.


Soul searching over for the day...............more laters x