The sisters have been in conversation (what we do best) and thought we would share.
My girl is suffering (the big D and A) we have nicked named them so my diva won’t hear. I thought it fitting, with the designers which used to clothe my “sister from another mister”. Her words from her blog and from her heart are so inspirational. She takes the highs, the lows, the rough and the damn well no where to be seen smooth, all in her stride. I’m or should I say we, are trying to be there for her, or to least break a cycle of her depression and anxiety, but, we are not sure what her wants and needs are and we never want push it. Read More
Apologies for not posting very much of late, I have been slightly distracted with life and also having a slight wobble of my own. You think as you travel down then the crazy path of mental illness, that it gets easier. You learn what your triggers are, you learn how to cope in situations that make you feel suffocated, and you start to focus on the good rather than the bad. You say to yourself, “damn! I think I may have this” and all your puzzle pieces that haven’t fit properly start building a new picture and then…..boom!! Read More
The worst part of being someone who suffers with chronic anxiety is that you have the feeling of its “all my fault”. Everything that has happened is because I did this, so it has to be “my fault”. The sun didn’t come out today, “ oh that is my fault”. Its a deep rooted paranoia that I am currently trying to drill a hole in so that I can get to the base of the problem. It is constantly there and is followed up with the secondary phrase “i’m sorry” and the third “I let you down”. That seems to be my mantra in life, and I’m working on it to create a new one because frankly this one has not served me that well, rather led me down the garden path and I’m ready for a different perspective. Read More
When you get diagnosed with a mental illness, the logical part of your brain, the one that is fighting to stay in the “real” world thinks “huh, I finally have all the time in the world to do the things that I want to do, I can concentrate on me for a change”. What I didn’t know, and what no one told me was that depression likes to sleep. She likes to sleep the days away and re-charge her batteries. Except her batteries don’t hold charge like the Duracell bunny that I used to be. She can sit through a movie and then need a nap to recover. She can put a load of washing on, and the next thing she is flaked out on the sofa, head in a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and hardly able to keep her eyes open. Read More
I started writing when I was at my worst, I had to somehow get the thoughts that were twirling around in my head out and down onto paper. So many people told me that if I did, I would be able to think a little clearer. That I would be able to get to the root cause and actually start working on what the problem was. This three-part blog, was the first piece that I shared with Chica. It is from there, for a long time she beat me, till I finally agreed to put it out there in the world, and actually try and make a difference. I hope that you enjoy this piece and for those who have been, or are still in the same situation, you can identify with some of it. Because, it does get better, and when that time for you comes, enjoy it because you are so much stronger than you think. It doesn’t take a soldier to get through anxiety and depression it actually takes a superhero and you my friends will make it! That I can promise you. Read More
In my “normal” life my routine in the mornings usually consisted of dragging myself out of bed and still half asleep, finding my way with my hands to my coffee machine. Once I had reached the “fountain of the awake” and the hot, bitter columbian roast was starting to pulse trough my veins, I could start thinking about a shower. That usually consisted of 10 minutes, in and out, brush teeth, into the underwear and then on to my make up. I was still relatively dozy by this point so who needed to add another step to the make up routine by using a moisturiser when I could barely see myself in the mirror anyway. Read More