Childhood

Reflecting on my childhood, I am confronted with memories that have deeply shaped the person I am today. The absence of love and affection, coupled with the feeling of being unwanted, has left a profound mark on my psyche.

Growing up, love and affection were scarce commodities in my household. Whether it was due to familial issues or personal struggles, I often found myself longing for the warmth of a loving embrace or the reassurance of kind words. This deficiency in nurturing love has permeated into my adult life, leaving me with a lingering sense of emotional emptiness.

One of the most challenging aspects of my childhood was the constant feeling of being unwanted. Whether it was subtle neglect or outright rejection, I internalized the belief that I was unworthy of love and acceptance. This belief has followed me into adulthood, manifesting in self-doubt and difficulty forming meaningful relationships.

Despite the tumultuous nature of my upbringing, I refuse to let it define my future. While the scars of my childhood may never fully fade, I am committed to breaking the cycle of neglect and building a life filled with love and belonging. Though the journey may be challenging, I hold onto the hope that I can create a family founded on love, acceptance, and mutual respect.

In writing this journal entry, I confront the painful realities of my past while also acknowledging the resilience that has allowed me to persevere. By shedding light on the ways in which my childhood has affected my life, I take the first step towards healing and reclaiming agency over my future.

Placebo

They say a picture paints a thousands word don’t they? 

Today, my Google Calendar informed me that it’s been approximately a year since I made the decision to come off me medications. So I guess you could say it’s my other birthday today right? Afterall, I do have a split personality. But being a Gemini, it can only get you out of your moody meltdowns for so long. This excuse for my multiple personalities has been overused. 

Anyway, so a whole year undermedicated…..

This isn’t the best decision for everyone and it can be a very dangerous choice too. But I have my personal views on mental health medications. 

I’ve been on and off them since I started to hit my teens. Everything from anti depressants to anti psychotic  drugs to beta blockers for anxiety. In today’s way of life, I honestly think that alot of people are on these drugs and shouldn’t be. 

I’m in no way qualified in medicine but I do have a strong opinion. Don’t we all the right to an opinion? 

Let’s get one thing straight though, this is a personal choice, ditching the meds. So far, so good. A whole year and I haven’t had any major issues. There’s been some bad days. But everybody has  a bad day every now and then. I’m 34 now, and it’s a shame it’s taken this long for me to realise that it’s ok to try new paths. I mean, I’ve been pumped with loads of different medications since I was a teenager. Some have helped, some haven’t. But, because they were prescribed to me, I kinda expected too much. Reality being (for me personally) it’s just a another way for the government to make more and more money because I’ve proved I can cope without medications for the past year. You see, depression and anxiety for some, like me, will never ever leave my life. I’ll always have depression to battle against but 90% of the time now, I can cope. I’ve finally stopped fighting depression and learned to live with it. It’s apart of me, who I am. But I refuse to allow it to swallow me up and control every aspect of my life. On my bad days, I’ll simply try to sleep. Not always easy but if I sleep, I’m not suffering with my deep, dark thoughts. 

My choice to not take medication, is very much my choice. It’s not for everybody, so I’m not recommending it to all. I took a gamble. It has, so far, paid off for me. It’s not something you should do alone. I’m very lucky to have a supportive partner of 14 years and a great family. 

Don’t expect miracles from medications. There’s so many out there and it can take months, sometimes years to find the right balance of meds. 

Just don’t give up. 

Don’t give up. 

Stay strong. 

Reflecting on this week.

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After reflecting on the week in my new job, I feel not only proud of myself but also incredibly overwhelmed. 

Everyone who actually knows me is aware I’ve struggled with mental illness from the age of about 12/13. I still have my moments but I’m a much stronger person these days. 

Nobody’s perfect.

Just like the word ‘normal’, perfection doesn’t exist. 

I spent a fair few months in a mental institute when I was 18 and probably saw some things that I shouldn’t have at that age. 

When I was discharged I made a vow to myself that I would never ever go back. But that was 1999. This week I’ve spent hours sitting in 136 units with young girls and adults. They have much more support available to them in 2016 than I did years ago. This did upset me alittle today as I sat reflecting on this week’s events. If I had the support of today’s world, I wouldn’t have wasted most of my twenties and early thirties stuck in the deep dark hole of depression. But then, I managed to turn my dark thoughts around slightly. I’m a survivor. I’m still here. Much to the annoyance of some. But I’m a success. I’m brave. I’m strong. So I didn’t waste them years at all, it just took me a little longer to find ways of living side by side with depression. I’ll never ever be free from depression. Never. But I refuse to let it swallow me up. 

I had second thoughts swimming from my head last Sunday evening as to where I was doing the right thing taking this job. I didn’t share these thoughts with anyone, I very rarely share my thoughts anyway. Even in 2016, people with mental illness are still stigmatised. But, I had to try my hardest. The old Becci wouldn’t even put herself through anything she felt she couldn’t cope with. But I HAVE changed, regardless of those who still put me down. I’m still fighting, I’m still battling with my demons. But boy it’s bloody exhausting that’s for sure. I’ve felt quite emotional today. This had been a big deal for me. But, I’m not so sure those closest to me can see that? 

I’m the type of person who likes routine. I’m never usually good with improvisation.,working on my own initiative etc. That’s why being a boring bus driver kinda felt like all I could do career wise. I’ve spent 12 years in that job. It’s a brilliant job for some people, but not for me. That’s why I’ve walked out of the last two jobs I’ve had on the buses. I guess you could say I’ve grown some balls in the last couple of years. Never one to stick up for myself. Let people bully me etc. But this bitch is now awake. I’ll no longer allow people to walk all over me, regardless of who they are, what they do etc. Each and every one of us deserves respect and compassion. There’s too many titles and labels in this world. Unfortunately it’ll never change.

 Society is a wicked place. So wicked that there’s some incredibly lovely youngsters and adults out there that feel they have no place in our society. They’re judged, labeled and they shut themselves away. I’ve met some girls this week that do anything in their power to remain detained under a section 2 or 3 so they do not have to face society. Now this cripples me utterly. Everyone needs to realise that we’re not all the same. Some of us are quite unstable. Whether it be clinical depression, circumstantial depression, Bi Polar Disorder, Conversion Disorder, Personality Disorder, I could go on and on. But that doesn’t mean that they can’t  lead a life like the rest of us. They deserve to be amongst us. I’m not gonna be able to change this on my own. But I’ll happily bang on about it til the day I die. I’ll do anything I can to help anyone in mental health adapt and cope with everyday struggles. Maybe by spreading the word around, I can change just one persons opinion or conceptions about mental health. 

I’m totally exhausted mentally and physically. Long hours and the chats I’ve had with the patients have drained me. However, it’s kind of a good exhaustion. I know I’ve made a difference to at least two girls this week, one even gave me a hug. I wasn’t ashamed to tell them I’m of my battles with mental health. One was shocked that I’d managed to land a decent job. So this was my way of shining a huge ray of light into her own life. She’s only 18 but she can still go far in life. Ether it be this year, next year or in ten years. I’ve showed her that you can overcome the dark days. But I was careful to explain the truth that she may never be totally depression free. It can rear it’s ugly head at any time and it’s usually when you least expect it. But it doesn’t mean your life had to be over. You just have to work out how you can live with it. This can take time, alot of time and this is what sets alot of people back. They often don’t  feel that they are making any progress when they are.

What’s  quite ironic, these youngsters and adults I’ve met this week are actually helping me also. 

I’ve found my calling in life. I’m 34 years old now. I’ve still got lots to give people.i think going into the mental health sector now is the right time. I can cope better these days. I no longer have suicidal tendencies or self harm urges. But I’m still diagnosed with Bi Polar and PD but I can control it better. 

Just remember, don’t judge people for the way they are, you don’t know their stories their struggles. 

Apologies for any spelling mistakes but my brain has been going a 100mph and I can’t be arsed to correct them.

A mute.

Sometimes in life it’s best to not say anything.
Sometimes in life it’s best to remain a mute.
Sometimes in life it’s best you’re not heard.

There are many times in life we are all faced with difficult situations through no fault of our own.

It’s these times in life that I feel a failure.

I’m useless at helping others.

My ability to show affection is tainted.

So I remain a mute when I’m probably needed the most.

Tonight will not be a good night.

Void

Completely empty. 

That is me right now.

My BPD has caused havoc this weekend.
I guess I kinda knew it was on its way. When you’ve got BPD, your life is that of a rollercoaster. Only exception being you can’t get off. 
Like my body, my rollercoaster isn’t in good shape. Any health and safety official would quickly condemn this ride.

I let myself down this weekend. I allowed my tormentors to overpower me.
I’m a good hearted person, but when I’m tormented I guess you could just call me Damien.  I’m not nice to be around. If I hate myself, then others must do right?
I need to shut myself away when I’m like this. However, family and life won’t allow this. So it’s inevitable that pretty soon I’ll just pop.

One thing, surprised me this weekend.
My mind did venture down the dark, unlit path I’ve travelled many many times before. When your walking gingerly on tip toes, arms outstretched infront of you, feeling for a way out. You can not simply ask someone to help you as you’re totally alone.

There is nothing. No light, no sound, no one.

That’s was when I would act upon my suicidal tendencies. There’s no place back in the life I had, there’s nothing in this one so let’s just give up Yeah?

It’s a void.

Emptiness

Nothing

Zilch

What kind of life is that?

This time I stopped dead in my tracks.
I just sat where I was and let my brain rest for awhile.

Now, I’m back in my normal surroundings. Still empty, still a void but a rested void.

So I guess it’s ok to be a void.

My brain was screaming out loud today. I didn’t know how to channel it though. Let’s just say it wasn’t pleasant. But my brain is now thankful, thankful I let it all out. May not be right but it’s all out. Now it’s time to allow my brain some peace. All that stands in the way is others around me. Living with someone who is BPD is far from easy, I know that. But they need to realise it’s ten times harder and more to live with it personally. Everytime I hit my deepest darkest lows, I hate myself. I hit myself, I hurt myself. So I become a nasty person. It’s not who I truly am but the tormentors don’t care.

Happiness Challenged aka Becci Douglas

It’s good to talk.

People have asked me before, what is it like to live with a mental illness? I’ve recently been thinking about this.

Until a few months ago, I would have given the answer that I thought they wanted to hear, or I would have shrugged my shoulders and not really known what to say. I didn’t really know what it was like to live with a mental illness, because my mental illness was my life; it was all I really knew, and I couldn’t imagine life without it.

I had first been diagnosed when I was about 12/13. Although I’m pretty sure I was ill way before this. I had a bad head injury as a toddler, docs have mentioned this could have been a factor for my depression later in life. Anyway, I didn’t know what it was like to live without feelings of self-hatred and a voice in my head that constantly told me why I was inadequate, disgusting, worthless and simply wrong in every way.

I didn’t know it was possible to live without constantly panicking about what I was feeling and how sad I felt, or without having panic attacks and extended periods of time where I wanted nothing more than to fall asleep and never wake up. To ask me what it was like to live with a mental illness was to separate the illness from myself, from my life, as if it was some kind of additional thing. This wasn’t the case. The illness was my life; it seemed that to live without it was to stop living.

If you ask me now, my answer would be different. For me, living with a mental illness that controlled every thought and behaviour was not really living at all. On a good day, I was coping with a mental illness. On a bad day I was unable to cope. At no point was I fully living my life.

Having been controlled by illness for so long, the idea of living a life without it controlling you, is terrifying. It is unknown, unfamiliar and feels impossible. I remember counsellors and psychiatrists talking about recovery, and I remember being terrified of the prospect. I hated being ill, but I didn’t know who I was if I wasn’t ill. I didn’t believe it was possible not to be ill. Even as I went through the recovery process, I was waiting for the illness to come back, almost welcoming it back at times, because I didn’t know how to be without it.

But through this period of recovery, I have been extremely blessed with wonderfully patient friends who have helped me see that I deserve, and can have, a life that isn’t controlled by mental illness. I have learnt to express emotion and talk rather than burying everything and taking my anger and sadness out on myself. I have learnt that it is okay not to be okay. It is okay to have good days and bad days and make mistakes and not be perfect.  I have learnt that Becci can have a life.

Recovery is challenging, but it’s worth it.

Recovery is an ongoing process, and it is a hard one. But it is worth it. I am almost 34 years old , and I feel alive for the first time. There are things I can do now that I couldn’t have even imagined doing before. These things aren’t easy, but they are possible, and they are becoming less and less scary.

I can laugh and cry and express myself rather than being too scared to do so. I can make a mistake without needing to self-harm to numb the shame and fear that I felt. I can let people in, and be myself around them without constantly fearing that they are about to run away. I don’t have to suppress every emotion through fear that I might completely fall apart if I let anything out. I can talk about the things I am struggling with without feeling too much guilt, because I have learnt that I have a voice and that I am allowed to use it.

Recovery is painful and scary and full of bumps, but it is worth it. If you are struggling with a mental illness, you aren’t alone, and it doesn’t have to be like this forever. You deserve support. You deserve happiness. You deserve a life.

I will still have bad days and some extremely bad days. I know when these days arrive, as they always do, I’ll say the opposite to everything above. But, good days will follow. They always do.

Happiness Challenged aka Becci Douglas

You pray for me and I’ll think for you.

Understand Jesus’ Core Message

Simply take a moment to think about the following statement:

“Hello, my name is Jesus. I love you deeply. I have loved you since you were conceived in the womb and I will love you for all eternity. I died for you on the cross because I love you so much. I long to have a loving personal relationship with you. I will answer all of your prayers through my love. But if you do not get down on your knees and worship me, and if you do not EAT MY BODY and DRINK MY BLOOD, then I WILL INCINERATE YOU WITH UNIMAGINABLY TORTUOUS PAIN IN THE FIRES OF HELL FOR ALL ETERNITY blah blah blah HA HA HA HA HA!”

Yes, this is the central message of Christianity.

Think about this message. We have a being who, according to the Standard Model of God, embodies love. Yet, if you do not get down on your knees and worship him, you will be physically tortured for all eternity. What sort of love is that?

The utter silliness and contradiction of Jesus’ core message should make it obvious to you: God is imaginary.

But, you can pray for me and I’ll think for you.

Happiness Challenged aka Becci Douglas

Who needs meds?

Sometimes I know things that I don’t want to know. Or I may see something that I can’t unsee no matter how bad I want to. Though usually it’s not something I know or see strictly in my mind, but something I feel and see within my heart. That makes it harder to put what I am feeling or seeing into coherent thoughts or to find words to describe what I feel. All I have, is a giant black well of heavy feelings without any logical flow. When it’s like this, I try to remember two things:

1. Feelings are always changing. Whatever it is I am feeling right now, it will always change shape into new fresh feelings. And then those feelings will change. The changing weather patterns inside my heart never stay the same.

2. I am living in a culture where people are conditioned from a young age to turn away from heavy feelings. So my capacity to move into heaviness and know what I don’t want to know and see what I don’t want to see, this is a brave and rebellious act.

There is some peace in the fact that no matter how bad I feel, it won’t last forever. I mean if it did, we’d just throw in the towel wouldn’t we?
However, no matter how massively my heart is ripped apart, I am brave. There, I said it, I AM BRAVE!

I keep reminding myself of that well known quote :

“you can’t have the rainbow without the storm”

I am heartbroken and badass, at once.

I’m pretty sure that’s a superpower.

Stigmatised Depression

This is a short article that I wish to get out there because it constantly irritates me about the many misconceptions regarding depression, what it is and who gets it.

The media, bless ’em, do their best to paint any form of mental illness in a positive light. Explaining that depression, anxiety, addiction and anything related to those three are now legitimate diseases that deserve the same respect and attention as anything physical.

Well thanks but the last I heard, the brain was a part of the body, and a damn important one at that.

As long as we treat an illness of the brain as something different from the rest of the body then it will never receive the same amount of attention.

Unless you have experienced it, you can never truly understand

How many of you have a tail? You know, like a monkey. If you haven’t (which I hope is everyone), can you imagine what it is like to grip a branch or maybe just swing it back and forth? It’s impossible isn’t it?

We don’t have one so that’s not surprising.

Depression is similar to that. If it’s something that you have never experienced then you can try as hard as you want, but you will never truly know what it feels like.

Are you having a bad day? Nope that’s not depression.

Are you bummed out because that girl/guy you like has just rejected your advances? Nope that’s not depression.

Have you spent all week in a foul mood because your favourite team has lost a cup final? Nope that’s not depression either.

It isn’t a change in mood related to a trivial life event. If your whole world is slowly being turned upside down because of what is happening inside your mind then you may well be depressed. If these thoughts have been present for several weeks or months then yes, you may be depressed.

There is a big difference between feeling down and having depression and this brings me to my next point.

You cannot just ‘snap out of it’ or ‘pull yourself together’

I like analogies so steady your hats because here comes another one.

Depression is like trying to run through water and being told to get over it is akin to suddenly being able to move like you can on dry land. It’s impossible. You can grit your teeth and attempt to get some momentum going but ultimately the density will prevent you from moving quickly.

When depression has its grip on you, life becomes water. The air around you becomes water, crushing you with its weight and even the simplest tasks become difficult. You feel sluggish, both mentally and physically and nothing can snap you out of it.

You have essentially become trapped inside your own prison and true access to your brain lies behind that locked door. Sometimes, briefly, you are allowed outside to stretch your legs but you know this is temporary. Eventually you will have to return to your cell and wait patiently for a time when you are given another opportunity to function like a normal member of society.

There is no choice in the matter. All we can do is take advantage of our good days and try to minimise the effect our bad days have on us.

One of the roadblocks to recovery for those whose suffer from depression is our cultures tendency to stigmatise depression and other mental illnesses. How are we supposed to get through it, to the other side?

Very few people actually realise that clinical depression is actually a recognised medical illness just like diabetes or heart disease.

We need to stop making depression a moral issue.

Thanks for your precious time reading my blog, signed which much love and respect to all. Becci Douglas

Where am I now?

Where am I now?

Rhetorical question, but one I’ve been pondering most of the day.
As most folk know, a clinical depressive here.
Today, I felt neither happiness nor unhappiness. Numbness.
Maybe it was down to pure tiredness from yesterday and last night.
Anyway, it’s not a bad way to feel at all, so I’m not complaining.
Been trying to think of a way of possibly explaining the feeling but my brain is just so numb.
Guess you could call me KitKat today – my mind is taking a break.

Recently I read a quote online:

Depression is a flaw in chemistry not character

I shall adopt that quote from now on.

Short and sweet

Happy Sunday evening folks.

Stay safe