Category: mental health stigma

Adulting

Ellen Thomas1 Comment

Romantic comedies are one of my favourite types of movies, but I’ve started to realise how unrealistic their main characters are. They spend all this time falling in love, and of course, have spare time to exercise, cook ultra-healthy meals, work 50 hours a week for their big promotion, have budding social lives, travel…the list goes on and on.

IT’S A LIE.

I mean… the absolute worst thing that happens to people is quite literally aging.

I mean it is for some people. I am a part of that group. In my opinion, I think that adulting just quite literally sucks balls most of the time.

I know there are perks, and for a middle class, white woman I am extremely privileged. I have a roof over my head, a stable job and can afford to eat. I can do what I want, ultimately.

However, there’s just the issue of being an adult. And just because society has dubbed me the title of adult, does not mean I am being an adult.

We have to learn how to manage time and we all know that it is hard sometimes. We have to be able to go to work, do all our chores, socialize and still be able to get enough sleep, and it’s fucking harder than the rom coms suggest. At this point, I already accept procrastination as a friend that I have to follow until the end.

We have to do things by ourselves. We cannot, no matter how much we try, depend on our parents forever. We have to pay for everything, by ourselves. We have to learn how to cook, think about what to cook EVERY NIGHT, pay bills and clean the kitchen 59 times a day because quite literally making a piece of toast makes it look like a bomb has hit it.

I have been struggling so much with all of this lately, I have found it so overwhelming, all of a sudden. I just can’t keep up. About a month ago I went back to my parents for a night… I went home. I cried to my Mum and Dad about how hard I was finding adulting, about how I wish, I could go back, to not necessarily being a toddler or even a young child, but to being a young adult, a teenager. Being looked after and just being a bit more care free. It really devastated me, and for a night, I just wanted to be my parents child. 

Why is there just so much to do CONSTANTLY when you have to be independent?! It’s suffocating at times and the only thing you can do is move on, get used to it, and grab hold of the pleasures of being an adult. I know that in the end you just have to learn to do everything yourself and move on with your life. Life will never feel like easy leisure like it was when you were a kid, and it for sure will never feel like a rom com, but I suppose being an adult does mean that you can create your own little bubble, and decide what adulting looks like for you. And I have to just accept that it’s alright sometimes.

I guess what I am trying to say, is that I feel it’s okay to mourn being a teenager, being a child or just being young. Adulting is fucking hard mate. (I know that being a teenager at the moment involves way more pressure than it did when I was), but I still think it must be easier, right? And I guess thinking that is also ok?

I guess most of all, I just really wish I did not take watching Tracy Beaker every afternoon for granted.

Hang in there adult, we haven’t got this, but we haven’t got this, together.

Ellen on the Edge xx

 

I get knocked down…

Ellen ThomasLeave a comment

I tried to get back up again. (with the help of paramedics, gas and air, a CT scan, 4 days inpatient treatment for a liver injury and torn muscles, morphine, codeine, naproxen, a massage mat, GPs, a month off work, cheese and coleslaw sandwiches, Ribena, my mum and dad, my partner, my friends, a back brace, my boss, reduced hours, a pillow, non-alcoholic beer, alcoholic beer, Heartstopper… I mean I could go on, I’ve missed a lot of things).

So… I got run over just over 10 weeks ago. Initially my mental health was completely unaffected, I mean, physically I was completely broken. But with the help of the above, I was able to begin to piece myself back together. A couple of weeks in, however, the realisation that pain is going to stick with me for a while, started to get to me. I felt like I had made no progress despite being able to now walk up the stairs, get to the toilet in less than 15 minutes and make myself a cuppa. I had been staying with my parents, who were unbelievable and I was treated like the qween I am for a little while.

I had to come home eventually though, back to adulting. The reality that I was going to be in pain for the foreseeable and started to grow, just then. I know that worldwide, people go about their days in pain all the bloody time, but I instantly felt hard done by.

Now I know that at some time in our lives we will all experience pain—physical and/or emotional discomfort caused by illness, injury, or an upsetting event. And I know that worldwide, people again, go about their days in pain all the bloody time. Though most of us would rather avoid it, pain, apparently does serve an actual purpose that is good and seen as “protective.” For example, when you experience pain your brain signals you to stop doing whatever is causing the pain, preventing further harm to your body.

Pain, however, is not meant to last for a long time.

I had started to get a bit angry at the fact that someone had caused me pain and seemingly didn’t have to suffer the consequences. Billy, just then, thought that it might be a good idea to poke his head up, let me know that life wasn’t fair, and that I should feel mostly shit about that. Thanks babes.

I had to come to terms with the fact that crossing roads will make me feel a bit uneasy and that crossing the road before the green man appears (even if its dead) is a massive no-go.

It’s got easier though, and I’m alright now. But I think that has had a massive impact on the last couple of months, and the reason I have been a bit absent from Ellen on the Edge. I needed to heal.

That’s okay though… sometimes you need a break… sometimes you need to get knocked down, but you will always get back up again. If you’ve been knocked down lately… sing that song for me, sing it loud!

Hang in there.

Ellen on the Edge xx