Hi there,
You'll probably have noticed that I've been posting less and less to my blog over the last year.
Part of this is because I've run out of things to say, but more importantly, I am currently writing my memoir and have been more focused on that than the blog. I'm hoping to have my first draft down by Christmas this year, which doesn't leave much time for anything else.
I will still be answering comments and questions if you have any - don't hesitate to get in touch and I'll get back to you when I can!
I'll be back to give you the odd progress report on the book. I'm really excited about it!! Still trying to think of a suitable name.. something that incorporates Mirtazapine withdrawal, ECT, Eating disorders etcetcetc, but I'm stuck on that one! Suggestions very welcome:)
Bye for now,
Kerry
Wednesday, 14 October 2015
Saturday, 1 August 2015
Did my past Anorexia cause my Ectopic Pregnancy?
TRIGGER WARNING - Some people may find this post upsetting.
On Monday it'll be a year since I had keyhole surgery to end an ectopic pregnancy. I can't believe it's been a year since the op. Months ago I wondered how I'd feel around this time...the whole thing was pretty traumatic. Would I feel sad about the little one we lost? Would I get depressed? Would I get broody? Would I feel the guilt I felt straight after the operation that maybe my anorexia from the past was to blame, or that I wasn't fit enough?
During the aftermath I went to the internet for support and while it was very useful to see the support from women and men who had been through the same thing, I came away feeling like a bit of a freak.
Let me explain.. Having children has never been high on the priority list for me. I've never felt the 'clock ticking' my friends have described. I suffer from chronic depression and CFS and these health issues would make it extremely difficult to have the energy to bring up a child well.
There are a whole host of other reasons why, and I won't go in to them, but I made the decision a long time ago that having children was not for me.
My periods have always been dodgy and since getting an IUD nearly 4 years ago they have been even dodgier than normal. They could last for weeks and were extremely painful and heavy and I frequently got brown instead of red blood. It often led to bed days loaded with painkillers and hot water bottles, and somehow I would turn in to this nasty witch the week before it was due which made me impossible to live with. They could be late by several weeks if my schedule had changed or if I was stressed.
Last April I started a new training programme and job working more hours than I'd ever worked before and I was exhausted. The job was okay but it took a lot out of my body. In light of this, it wasn't a huge surprise to me that my period was late.
Three weeks later, it eventually arrived and this time it was a browny colour. I'd had that before so I wasn't that alarmed, but what did alarm me was that it lasted for months. Each month that went by things got more and more painful. My periods were usually very sore, so I just assumed it was a more extreme reaction to my new working life, so I tried to ignore it.
You would think the normal thing would be to go to a doctor to get it checked out, but no! Not me! Having had a bad time in the psychiatric system and fed up of feeling patronised at my local GP surgery for trivial complaints, I decided I was not going in for simple period pain. Yes, this was a mistake on my part...me letting my stupid pride get in the way of my health...I cant change that now, but I've taken some very useful lessons from it.
By the time it got to the beginning of August, I was in agony. The pain was so bad I could hardly stand and was taking over 12 paracetamol and ibuprofen tablets every day. The tablets made no difference. I was breaking out in hot sweats and I felt dizzy and nauseous constantly. The blood flow had gotten weirder too. It resembled prune juice...something that had not happened before.
I called in sick several days. The job was only temporary and ended on 1st August but I struggled in on my last day to say goodbye to everyone.
The next day I could bear it no longer and phoned NHS 24. They told me to get to the emergency room immediately. Of course I decided to take the bus. On my way there the pain subsided a bit and I considered getting off at the next stop and going home. How humiliating to arrive at the emergency room be told to go home and take a hot bath to reduce my severe menstrual cramps!
I arrived at the hospital and seen right away. Tests were done and I was told I was pregnant. Most people would have a better reaction to this, but my "WHAAAT? NOOO!" firmly cemented any doubts I had about my maternal feelings. This was followed by hysterical crying...my life was over...how would I cope?..I'd just got my life back after a decade of illness in my 20s...what about all the things I still wanted to do?
Then came the news that they thought there was a good chance the pregnancy was ectopic (in the fallopian tube instead of the uterus) as the pregnancy hormone concentration in my urine was very low compared to others at three months.
They weren't able to do a scan until the next morning and I spent a very long night up on the Gynie ward contemplating the future. My partner (now husband) had been a tower of strength, reassuring me that whatever happened, we would work it out.
Just for a moment, I wondered if becoming a mother might be a blessing in disguise. Instead of seeing it as a death sentence, I began to see it as a purpose and direction in life that I had always felt lacking. Just for a moment, I wanted to prove wrong those people who said I'd never be able to cope with being a mother... If it happened, it happened.
The ultrasound scan the next morning found no baby in my uterus but on the screen they pointed out a small white shape in my right fallopian tube. Seeing that made it more real. That had been my baby. Tears stung my eyes which surprised me. I hadn't wanted this, so why was I so upset? I was wheeled back to the ward and scheduled for surgery A.S.A.P.
I've always wondered about women who claim they never knew they were pregnant. How could something so huge happen to your body and you not even know about it?
I guess I wasn't expecting to get pregnant so I wasn't looking out for it, but it did explain the cravings for huge bags of my favourite salty lentil crisps I had every day after work and the "Super Boobs" I sported for a while. I just associated the cravings and boobs with typical menstrual cravings and boobs!
In the aftermath of the operation I went through an unexpected grieving process which came with a huge amount of guilt that my former anorexia may have caused all this. During my illness, I had gone without monthly periods for over 8 years which I had seen as a bonus at the time, but I had been later warned that conceiving may be difficult. I wasn't intending to have children and didn't see it as a big deal. Now I was being punished for my former anorexia.
I felt guilty for a long time and it wasn't until later I learned that ectopic pregnancies are very common (about 1 in 80).
They can have many causes including; being over 35, having an IUD, being a smoker, STD's, oddly shaped fallopian tubes and more. Sometimes there is no reason whatsoever and sadly it just happens.
When I was going through the grieving process I looked on the ectopic.org website. It is a really great organisation with a lot of useful information, but at the time I felt it was geared towards women who wanted children or knew they were pregnant and were excited to be welcoming a child in to their lives. Many had shared their painful stories of devastation at the loss of their baby. Nobody really mentioned relief that the pregnancy had ended. That is why I felt like such a freak.
A year on, I still feel relief, but I also feel a bit sad. Writing this post was harder than I expected and the tears now rolling down my face have surprised me. If the baby had survived to full term, it would have been born mid-February and now I'd be knee deep in dirty nappies and piles of laundry, going gaga with no sleep!
I made a huge mistake in not getting to a doctor sooner and the experience was a huge wake up call with regards to my levels of fitness. I still don't know what caused my ectopic pregnancy and the risk of my having another is high. Now I know what to look out for.
I'm grateful to have had the experience though, and every year on 3rd August I'll take a moment to remember what might have been.
On Monday it'll be a year since I had keyhole surgery to end an ectopic pregnancy. I can't believe it's been a year since the op. Months ago I wondered how I'd feel around this time...the whole thing was pretty traumatic. Would I feel sad about the little one we lost? Would I get depressed? Would I get broody? Would I feel the guilt I felt straight after the operation that maybe my anorexia from the past was to blame, or that I wasn't fit enough?
During the aftermath I went to the internet for support and while it was very useful to see the support from women and men who had been through the same thing, I came away feeling like a bit of a freak.
Let me explain.. Having children has never been high on the priority list for me. I've never felt the 'clock ticking' my friends have described. I suffer from chronic depression and CFS and these health issues would make it extremely difficult to have the energy to bring up a child well.
There are a whole host of other reasons why, and I won't go in to them, but I made the decision a long time ago that having children was not for me.
My periods have always been dodgy and since getting an IUD nearly 4 years ago they have been even dodgier than normal. They could last for weeks and were extremely painful and heavy and I frequently got brown instead of red blood. It often led to bed days loaded with painkillers and hot water bottles, and somehow I would turn in to this nasty witch the week before it was due which made me impossible to live with. They could be late by several weeks if my schedule had changed or if I was stressed.
Last April I started a new training programme and job working more hours than I'd ever worked before and I was exhausted. The job was okay but it took a lot out of my body. In light of this, it wasn't a huge surprise to me that my period was late.
Three weeks later, it eventually arrived and this time it was a browny colour. I'd had that before so I wasn't that alarmed, but what did alarm me was that it lasted for months. Each month that went by things got more and more painful. My periods were usually very sore, so I just assumed it was a more extreme reaction to my new working life, so I tried to ignore it.
You would think the normal thing would be to go to a doctor to get it checked out, but no! Not me! Having had a bad time in the psychiatric system and fed up of feeling patronised at my local GP surgery for trivial complaints, I decided I was not going in for simple period pain. Yes, this was a mistake on my part...me letting my stupid pride get in the way of my health...I cant change that now, but I've taken some very useful lessons from it.
By the time it got to the beginning of August, I was in agony. The pain was so bad I could hardly stand and was taking over 12 paracetamol and ibuprofen tablets every day. The tablets made no difference. I was breaking out in hot sweats and I felt dizzy and nauseous constantly. The blood flow had gotten weirder too. It resembled prune juice...something that had not happened before.
I called in sick several days. The job was only temporary and ended on 1st August but I struggled in on my last day to say goodbye to everyone.
The next day I could bear it no longer and phoned NHS 24. They told me to get to the emergency room immediately. Of course I decided to take the bus. On my way there the pain subsided a bit and I considered getting off at the next stop and going home. How humiliating to arrive at the emergency room be told to go home and take a hot bath to reduce my severe menstrual cramps!
I arrived at the hospital and seen right away. Tests were done and I was told I was pregnant. Most people would have a better reaction to this, but my "WHAAAT? NOOO!" firmly cemented any doubts I had about my maternal feelings. This was followed by hysterical crying...my life was over...how would I cope?..I'd just got my life back after a decade of illness in my 20s...what about all the things I still wanted to do?
Then came the news that they thought there was a good chance the pregnancy was ectopic (in the fallopian tube instead of the uterus) as the pregnancy hormone concentration in my urine was very low compared to others at three months.
They weren't able to do a scan until the next morning and I spent a very long night up on the Gynie ward contemplating the future. My partner (now husband) had been a tower of strength, reassuring me that whatever happened, we would work it out.
Just for a moment, I wondered if becoming a mother might be a blessing in disguise. Instead of seeing it as a death sentence, I began to see it as a purpose and direction in life that I had always felt lacking. Just for a moment, I wanted to prove wrong those people who said I'd never be able to cope with being a mother... If it happened, it happened.
The ultrasound scan the next morning found no baby in my uterus but on the screen they pointed out a small white shape in my right fallopian tube. Seeing that made it more real. That had been my baby. Tears stung my eyes which surprised me. I hadn't wanted this, so why was I so upset? I was wheeled back to the ward and scheduled for surgery A.S.A.P.
I've always wondered about women who claim they never knew they were pregnant. How could something so huge happen to your body and you not even know about it?
I guess I wasn't expecting to get pregnant so I wasn't looking out for it, but it did explain the cravings for huge bags of my favourite salty lentil crisps I had every day after work and the "Super Boobs" I sported for a while. I just associated the cravings and boobs with typical menstrual cravings and boobs!
In the aftermath of the operation I went through an unexpected grieving process which came with a huge amount of guilt that my former anorexia may have caused all this. During my illness, I had gone without monthly periods for over 8 years which I had seen as a bonus at the time, but I had been later warned that conceiving may be difficult. I wasn't intending to have children and didn't see it as a big deal. Now I was being punished for my former anorexia.
I felt guilty for a long time and it wasn't until later I learned that ectopic pregnancies are very common (about 1 in 80).
They can have many causes including; being over 35, having an IUD, being a smoker, STD's, oddly shaped fallopian tubes and more. Sometimes there is no reason whatsoever and sadly it just happens.
When I was going through the grieving process I looked on the ectopic.org website. It is a really great organisation with a lot of useful information, but at the time I felt it was geared towards women who wanted children or knew they were pregnant and were excited to be welcoming a child in to their lives. Many had shared their painful stories of devastation at the loss of their baby. Nobody really mentioned relief that the pregnancy had ended. That is why I felt like such a freak.
A year on, I still feel relief, but I also feel a bit sad. Writing this post was harder than I expected and the tears now rolling down my face have surprised me. If the baby had survived to full term, it would have been born mid-February and now I'd be knee deep in dirty nappies and piles of laundry, going gaga with no sleep!
I made a huge mistake in not getting to a doctor sooner and the experience was a huge wake up call with regards to my levels of fitness. I still don't know what caused my ectopic pregnancy and the risk of my having another is high. Now I know what to look out for.
I'm grateful to have had the experience though, and every year on 3rd August I'll take a moment to remember what might have been.
Saturday, 11 July 2015
I NEED YOUR INPUT!
It's been far too long since I posted anything and I feel rather guilty for neglecting my poor blog.
Over the last year I have been toying back and forth with the idea of writing a memoir.
A few months ago I decided to go for it and have knuckled down (hence the lack of activity on my blog). What I didn't expect, however, was to come across a few issues that have slowed down the writing process a lot, and this is where you come in.
To me, my story is as boring as waiting for a pan of water to boil. It's all normal for me and I forget that other people might find some of this interesting.
So, if a few years down the line you were holding my book in your hands...what would you like it to contain?
Would you want to hear about my childhood, or why I believe I got Depressed and developed eating disorders?
Would you like to hear what it's like to get ECT and its after-effects?
Do you want to hear a recovery story which doesn't focus too much on the why's? Recovering from eating disorders or coming off psychiatric medication? Or do you think a mix of everything would be good?
I have an idea of the way I want to go, but I'm very interested to see what you would want to read.
Please post in the comments below or get in touch via the contact form.
Thanks!
Kerry.
Over the last year I have been toying back and forth with the idea of writing a memoir.
A few months ago I decided to go for it and have knuckled down (hence the lack of activity on my blog). What I didn't expect, however, was to come across a few issues that have slowed down the writing process a lot, and this is where you come in.
To me, my story is as boring as waiting for a pan of water to boil. It's all normal for me and I forget that other people might find some of this interesting.
So, if a few years down the line you were holding my book in your hands...what would you like it to contain?
Would you want to hear about my childhood, or why I believe I got Depressed and developed eating disorders?
Would you like to hear what it's like to get ECT and its after-effects?
Do you want to hear a recovery story which doesn't focus too much on the why's? Recovering from eating disorders or coming off psychiatric medication? Or do you think a mix of everything would be good?
I have an idea of the way I want to go, but I'm very interested to see what you would want to read.
Please post in the comments below or get in touch via the contact form.
Thanks!
Kerry.
Thursday, 30 April 2015
A Huge Thank you - 20,000 page views!
I just wanted to thank you guys for taking the time to read my blog - today I reached 20,000 page views!
Woohoo!!! I'm very happy.
Love Kerry x
Saturday, 14 March 2015
My Depression Tool Kit.
Hi Guys!
It's been far too long since I've written a blog post. I was having a cuppa with a fellow writer friend a few weeks ago and she commented that I've been rather absent and encouraged me to get writing again...
So this one's for you HC - you know who you are!
It's been far too long since I've written a blog post. I was having a cuppa with a fellow writer friend a few weeks ago and she commented that I've been rather absent and encouraged me to get writing again...
So this one's for you HC - you know who you are!
Things have not been great recently. In fact, it's been bloody awful. A crappy depression has been nipping at my heels this past winter, but into the new year it's gotten much worse.
I admit some of it is my own fault - I've not been taking care of myself as I should. The meditation has slipped and is now non-existent in my life, I've been eating more junk than usual, a wrist injury left me unable to work out and I then got lazy and didn't work out after my wrist recovered. After disastrous interviews for jobs and still no job, I've decided to quit the job hunt altogether until I work out what to do.
I think the unproductive job hunt has been the biggest blow and left me with a shattered confidence and self-esteem. I see the future as a grey haze with nothing to look forward to.
There's been lots of tears and lots of bed days where just getting up and in to the shower and dried and dressed are huge achievements in themselves.
Right now it seems like everything is hopeless and will never get better. Life will be like this forever.
But I have been in this situation countless times before, and I know that things will eventually get better. There will come a time where you don't shut yourself away or dread the day as soon as you wake up.
There is hope that the grey haze of nothing will evaporate in the sunlight and you will find yourself laughing and joking again. You are almost certain you will get the very essence of yourself back and see some sort of future for yourself. You might not know what it is yet, but you will look forward to it.
There will come a day where you will look back on this episode and just accept it for what it was; a rough patch.
When things get to this stage, I refer to a Tool Kit I devised for myself a long time ago to get me though when things seem hopeless.
Depression distorts thoughts, feelings and perceptions so much, it's hard to grasp what's real and what's not.
I hope you find it useful, but I have primarily put it on here as a reminder for myself when things seem bleak.
My Tool Kit.
- Get out of bed! This is usually the last thing I want to do when I'm going through a serious depression. I want to snuggle in my warm cave forever and shut the world out, but believe me, you will feel better having got up and dressed.
- Have a shower and brush your teeth. Often I have to really force myself to do this and I have to persuade myself every step of the way..."Well done Kerry for getting up! Why not try a nice hot shower - you know you will feel better after it.....Great job! How about brushing your teeth now...good girl!" and so on. Sometimes the whole day can be made up of these tiny bite-sized chunks, and even if I don't do anything else that day, I will achieved something rather than nothing.
- Drink at least 2 litres of water a day. Dehydration is one of those surprising contributors to depression that most people forget about. When I have bed days I forget to drink, leaving me feeling very lethargic and drowsy. When I start drinking again, it's not long before I'm feeling much better. I aim to drink 2-2.5 litres a day. Other beverages I drink include mint and camomile teas.
- Cut down or eliminate caffeine, junk food and alcohol. It's been a long time since I discovered these had a bad effect on my mental health. Caffeine makes me agitated and anxious, alcohol renders me sleepless and dehydrated. Junk food just makes me feel sluggish, clogged up and generally "meh".
- Meditate. Going by experience, meditation is the single most effective way to get my mind on track again. So why do I keep falling off the wagon? Simple. It's so easy! I find it hard to comprehend that something so simple can have such a huge positive effect on my life. I mean, come on. At least give me a few Herculean Challenges! Mindfulness meditation promotes living in the present instead of dwelling on the past or worrying about the future. Here I find the peace of mind I crave.
- Eat a healthy diet. This ties in with eating less junk, and is pretty much common sense. I supplement my diet with multivitamins if my eating has gone patchy.
- Get regular exercise. Okay, so this could be classed as one of those Herculean Challenges I mentioned earlier. Regular exercise? When I can't even get out of bed? Yeah right! When it's come to this stage, I've found simple things like jumping up and down or jogging on the spot very useful. It only has to be for 5 seconds a couple of times a day and slowly build it up when you feel more able.
- Go for a walk. This is hard, especially if you've not been outside for days or weeks. The first time is the hardest. Even if you just go to the end of your street and back, the fresh air and change of scene can be very effective.
- Affirmations. I look in to a mirror and say "Kerry, I love you". Sometimes I recoil when I say this, and feel I'm telling myself lies. I try to say it with meaning and conviction and as time goes on I find myself feeling more content in my own skin and more accepting of who I am. Other affirmations include 'I accept myself', 'I am healthy and happy', and 'My life is rich and fulfilling'. I say these over and over (and over) again, and slowly they begin to be true. The book "You can heal your life" by Louise Hay goes in to this more. It's a really great book - I highly recommend it.
- Phoning or visiting friends. I am guilty of cutting myself off from my social circle. I often believe I have no friends and nobody wants to hang around with somebody who's really depressed. But when I look at my phone, there's lots of texts from friends I haven't answered which quash the myth I am completely friendless. It's the hardest thing in the world to pick up the phone and call someone for a chat, but I find it reconnects me with the world again, leaving me feeling less alone. My friends know me well enough now to get in touch if they've not heard from me for a while.
- Keeping a Journal. This is a really useful tool. I dump all my thoughts, fears and life woes in my journal and forget about them till the next time. It's also great to look back to a time where things weren't so good and realise you came out the other end. If you've done it before, you can do it again!
- Distraction. I believe distraction is underrated in helping with depression. There's been times where I wanted to shut myself away, but have been dragged out by a friend to the cinema. What good is that going to do? It's not going to solve any problems. Then an hour later I find myself laughing at a good romcom and my spirits lifted dramatically. This leads me to believe that a lot of my black thoughts are of my own doing. It's not easy to recognise the spiralling cycle of negative thoughts, but it becomes easier to try and fix it if you are aware you fall in to this trap. Other distractions can range from reading a book, writing a blog post, listening to music whilst having a boogie round the room, playing with a pet, having a hot bath, watching a favourite movie and doing crafts.
- Be kind to yourself! I tend to be very scathing towards myself when in the midst of a depression. Those around me really hate it when I do this. I'm finding that taking care of myself and nurturing myself are a lot more productive than being harsh. Try to maintain your personal hygiene, maybe even moisturise with your favourite cream! Encourage yourself and remind yourself that things will get better. Set little goals for yourself every day and reward yourself when you achieve them, but don't be too hard on yourself if you don't.
- Smile and stand up straight! It's been proven that the chemicals in your body change if you stand up straight and smile. It instantly makes you feel better! They say that you are unable to frown and smile at the same time (although for some reason I can do both! Frowning is a family trait!) Give it a try and see if you notice a difference. :)
NOTE: If you are feeling suicidal please get in touch with a health professional or counsellor who will be able to offer help and various treatment options.
Alternatively you can contact the Samaritans branch in your area or on 08457 909090 (United Kingdom) or 1 (800) 273-TALK (United States).
All my love,
Kerry x
Friday, 2 January 2015
Happy New Year!
Hi Guys!
A belated "Happy New Year" from Scotland!
I don't know about you, but I am glad to see the back of 2014.
Here's to 2015! I have a feeling it's going to be a good one.
Best wishes to you all.
Kerry.
A belated "Happy New Year" from Scotland!
I don't know about you, but I am glad to see the back of 2014.
Here's to 2015! I have a feeling it's going to be a good one.
Best wishes to you all.
Kerry.
Saturday, 6 December 2014
Why do I have two names?
If you've followed my blog from the early days, you'll notice that I started off with the name "Kip Mack" and ended with "Kerry M".
Why?
When I first started out, I wasn't sure how my posts would be taken or if I would receive any abuse as a result of them. At the time, it was much easier to protect myself with a semi-pseudonym. (Actually my nickname is Kip, and the Mack is a shorter version of my surname.)
Also, I come from a rather reserved family who would probably be mortified to know that I write a mental health blog. Those sorts of things are just not spoken about. I believe in getting mental health out in to the open and I have always been very honest and open about the past.
As time went on, the pseudonym made me feel that my blog wasn't mine and I began to feel disconnected from it. At one point I considered deleting the whole thing because it didn't feel like it belonged to me
.
The abuse I had anticipated never happened (as yet), so I decided to take the plunge and use my own name. It was a big relief and I felt I could be freer in what I wrote.
Ironically, when I first started my blog, I told a lot of people I knew about it despite being anon, but these days I don't tell anyone about it. Weird huh?
So that's the story of my two names!
Kerry:)
Why?
When I first started out, I wasn't sure how my posts would be taken or if I would receive any abuse as a result of them. At the time, it was much easier to protect myself with a semi-pseudonym. (Actually my nickname is Kip, and the Mack is a shorter version of my surname.)
Also, I come from a rather reserved family who would probably be mortified to know that I write a mental health blog. Those sorts of things are just not spoken about. I believe in getting mental health out in to the open and I have always been very honest and open about the past.
As time went on, the pseudonym made me feel that my blog wasn't mine and I began to feel disconnected from it. At one point I considered deleting the whole thing because it didn't feel like it belonged to me
.
The abuse I had anticipated never happened (as yet), so I decided to take the plunge and use my own name. It was a big relief and I felt I could be freer in what I wrote.
Ironically, when I first started my blog, I told a lot of people I knew about it despite being anon, but these days I don't tell anyone about it. Weird huh?
So that's the story of my two names!
Kerry:)
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