Erm, so…

Ellen ThomasLeave a comment

Darlings, it’s me. I have next to no idea what to say if I’m honest. I haven’t written this week for a number of reasons, but the main reason being… I just don’t know what to post. I don’t want to appear patronising, too positive, too negative, too anything. It’s just a bit shit and very difficult. For all of us.

I have gone through a mixture of emotions this week, I was frightened last week when I was in Ireland, it went into lockdown and I rushed to get home, I’ve gone back to work where there is unbelievable pressure to deliver and I have felt stressed. I have been at home where I am struggling with what to think, and what to do. I went to the beach and noticed how beautiful the sun was and how much cold wind on your face hurts. I guess I’m at a stage now where I am just trying to get used to it, as we all are. I think I have made a few mistakes today, I have gone to visit a couple of friends at their houses, I feel guilty. Whilst I know it is essential that we are staying in contact with people, we must now consider our actions, not even for the sake of ourselves, but for others. It’s basically time for us to unlearn a load of stuff.

I am trying my absolute best to stay on top of Billy, to keep him under control, to tell him to fuck off when needs be, and to be fair, at the moment, he is being an absolute babe. He really isn’t demanding too much attention from me, he is sort of just checking in with me every now and then, which isn’t always a bad thing. I feel alright, considering. I am sleeping lots and am trying to get out in the fresh air when I can.

What I need to say though, and what I think a majority of people need to preach and talk about – is that people are and need to stop being, absolute bellends. Myself included. Like, are you actually joking. People are stockpiling, ignoring and completely turning a blind eye to what is going on. I went out for a walk along the beach this morning, and came back through the town, where I can only say that the whole place resembled the chaos of Christmas Eve. I know I was out and so kinda being hypocritical, but why are people shopping, and going into crowded shops for non-essentials. Why are people still insisting on meeting in groups. Baffles me. I am telling you now, Karen, that you do not need that candle, and you do not need to see your friend from Yoga in person to practise your downward dog.

The government is now advising us to avoid all but essential social contact. This will mean that more of us will be spending a lot of time at home and many of our regular social activities will no longer be available to us. This is literally the thing that most of our lives are based on. Our free time is usually structured around social activities. It might help (and I know I now need) to try and see it as a different period of time in life, and not necessarily a bad one, even if we didn’t choose it. It of course means a different rhythm of life, a chance to be in touch with others in different ways than usual. Be in touch with other people regularly on social media, e-mail or on the phone, as there are still good ways of being close to the people who matter to us. We need to do what we need to do now guys, come on.

I feel like this is all a bit of a waste of time, and that you’re reading this, possibly rolling your eyes, or know you have read the same thing before. What I do want to say though, is that we are all in exactly the same boat, that anxiety you are experiencing the grief of losing your normal life is what we all feel. We are all going to have to learn to relax. To be indoors for a bit longer than we would like. I must stress that we must not take it too far though, whilst we must not attend social gatherings, or head to the pub, we must still stay connected, and whilst this can be done online, and over the phone… checking in, in person with your friend who is possibly struggling or dropping a bunch of flowers round to a member of family, or even heading to a close friends for a meal. This is what is going to keep us healthy. We must take precautions of course. But we must not make ourselves unwell. We need to practise social distancing, but we need not isolate ourselves completely unless guided too.

Basically, I don’t really have an idea. I am really trying my best, to listen to government advise, listen to myself, not overreact, not under react, not talk about it too much, not talk about it enough. I’m trying to be empathetic, but not over the top, I’m trying to be understanding, whilst also challenge dramatic responses. I’m with all of you. We are all with each other. We are all scared, we are all worried, we are all entering the unknown. But I do know that it’s going to take a few things for us to get through this time. And one of those things more than anything.. is talking. Let’s notice the half hour conversations we have that don’t feature any corona related topics (good luck with that one), let’s talk about tv shows. Let’s send each other care packages and letters, send each other messages and make phone calls. Let’s put on candles, read books, write, take baths and do face masks. Let’s colour, let’s decorate, let’s clean. Let’s go for walks to the beach, to parks, down the street, let’s wave to our neighbours, let’s smile at strangers. For the love of god, you will find something to make you smile, every day, I promise. Some of us may get unwell, but most of us will be ok. Those of us that aren’t will hopefully have the support of our wonderful NHS service to aid us on our road to recovery. But we all need to take a bit of responsibility now.

Let’s stay home.

We may get bored, but I reckon we are all going to come through this… come out of this, just a bit more self -aware. Please, protect your mental health, it really is going to need you, reach out if you need to, sleep for 13 hours a night if you need to (I slept for that long last night… I know right?!) I’m here to listen, if you need it, as are most other people in your little life, lovely person.

Sorry again for this post, I so want to post about other things, to talk about something else, but it’s affecting all of us, in every way possible – I thought it would be weird not to. We really are all in this together, and I will try my best to bring you less corona more crazy girl content soon. Thank you, always, for reading.

You got this. We got this.

Hang in there.

Ellen on the Edge xx

Watch Us Wreck the Mic… Psyche.

Ellen Thomas2 Comments

To me, psychiatrists sounded scary. I imagined men in white coats, examining your mind as you sat in an empty, cold room answering questions that you’d have to think twice about just to ensure you got to go home at the end of the day. It sounds extreme, I know – but with the movie industry forcing the mindset that support for mental health only goes one way, you can’t help but think the worst. I kind of didn’t want to admit to anyone that I had been referred to a psychiatrist. It felt like a dirty word. I feared that telling anyone meant I’d be seen as crazy, unstable, as though I needed to be locked up.

Psychiatrists are much like other mental health professionals – except they deal with a variety of disorders and can prescribe medication. Of course now, I realise that talking about seeing a psychiatrist is much like talking about seeing a GP – both are there to help your health, but just in different areas.

But at the time, I didn’t see it that way. I had a build up of nerves right up until the actual session. I was overthinking what I should say, how I should act. How far should I go in terms of opening up? How far was too far? I arrived at the health centre and checked in. It was quite posh and I sat in the waiting room surrounded by only three other people. I was surprised, everyone looked completely ‘normal’. I’d expected at least someone to be screaming or getting upset, but people were quite, invested in their phones and magazines. In fact, I’m pretty sure I was the only one who looked unsettled.

Five minutes after I was due to start the appointment, and I still hadn’t been seen by anyone. I began to wonder whether the appointment had been cancelled – hoped, even – but seconds after looking at the door, a man came down and called my name. He wasn’t what I expected. He was nicely dressed, in a shirt and jeans. He had a kind face and a soft voice and he made me feel at ease immediately. Where were the men in white coats? He led me up to the stairs and down a hallway where there was door after door leading to various appointment rooms. When I entered the right room, I was asked to sit in a comfy chair opposite his. There were four chairs in total and I sat down on the edge of my seat, not wanting to take my coat off or even put my bag on the floor. I didn’t plan on staying very long.

That was until he told me the session would take longer than what the general session would do as he needed to assess me. I got comfy, and decided to just give this thing a go. His appearance alone has already exceeded my expectations, and while I was still scared, maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as I’d imagined. He began by asking me questions about my lifestyle. My health, my relationships, my diet, my work life, my hobbies, my friends, you name it. He wanted to know everything. I answered as honestly as I could, just so that he could get an idea of what I was like. He then went on to ask me about my moods.

I told him that I had gone weeks feeling elated and weeks feeling suicidal. I’d have had episodes where I’d do things like order excessive amounts of absolute tat from Amazon.…before screaming in a bath tub and crying myself to sleep. I was shaking as I told him this. I wanted to run out of the room in fear he was going to take me away in a straight jacket. But he just nodded and noted it down, un-phased. I was surprised. He didn’t flinch at all. It was almost like he’d heard it all before – and he probably had. Instantly, I felt more relaxed. I’d told him details of my emotions that I’d never told anyone before, and it felt great. For the rest of the session, I felt comfortable enough to answer all of his questions. By the end of the session, he had gained enough information to give me a diagnosis – he knew I had Bipolar disorder, though he wanted to see me for more meetings to be sure, and started me on some medication, after asking me if I needed time to digest it. Mate, I needed to digest some red wine after this.

A few sessions later, which were actually filled with nothing but comfort and conversation. It was amazing to know I wasn’t crazy, that I actually had a mental health condition that I could learn to cope with instead of dealing with extreme mood swings I didn’t understand.

Though it was scary at first, I now have a comfortable relationship with my Psychiatrist. He’s the one person I can be totally honest with, without any fear of judgement.

We worry people won’t understand, that they’ll think we’re crazy and that things will get worse, but making the jump into getting help can change your life. Psychiatry is not as scary as it sounds – it’s just a bigger word for therapy, which admittedly is a much nicer description for help – but it deals with the medication side, too. Do it, if you’re offered it. No one will make you feel less crazy than a psychiatrist does, in my opinion.

Basically, mate, I couldn’t think of an appropriate title, so I turned to music and found the most appropriate song with the word “psych”-iatrist in. You are welcome.

Hang in there.

Ellen on the Edge xx