Story Of My Life (Part Two) - Footsteps In The Hall

This is the second part of my struggle with anxiety and depression over the years. The first part can be found here Story Of My Life (Part One) - The Downward Spiral

I was discharged from the hospital the next day. I had to speak to a councillor before I was given the nod to go home. I said the right things in the right places, not really feeling them. I was still numb to everything. My life felt brittle, like it would just crumble away to nothingness under the slightest bit of pressure. I looked and felt hollow.

The next couple of weeks felt, well, odd. Some people didn't know how to react around me, some handled me with kid gloves, some were angry, some were upset. One guy said he felt I'd been brave with the suicide attempt, that he wouldn't have had the courage. It wasn't brave, I told him, it was just a stupid reaction to a bad situation. 

It pissed me off. I was still trying to figure my own head out. I could do without dumb reactions like that. 

I was still having a hard time around my family. I could barely look them in the eye. We didn't really talk about it, as far as I'm aware, we still haven't. It's a hard conversation for anyone to have with their loved ones, both sides admitting that they feel like they let the other down. It was in the past, we all try to move on without acknowledging too much the elephant in the room. Even now, I can't remember much time with my family from around then. There's a huge void from these years that should be filled with memories of them and of enjoying my life,  but I can't remember a damn thing. I feel guilty about it, but it wasn't something intentional. I just have nothing there to fill the blanks.

My life seemed aimless, like I was moving at a slow pace whilst everything sped around me. I can remember very few things from the months that followed. I wasn't living my life, I was just allowing my disconnected shell to be carried along by it.

Sometimes you have a moment in your life that becomes pivotal but you really don't know it at that time. But I was about to have an epiphany without realising it.

I was at a party with some friends. Around this time I was drinking quite heavily socially, especially for someone who's brain and body was still messed up from the overdose. I would use alcohol to try and loosen up the inner me, allow the good side to come out. Most of the time though it would either leave me feeling numb and even more removed, or it would allow more of the darkness to come out. This time it was certainly leaned more towards the latter. I can't remember things leading up to it but I certainly remember what happened after.

My friend Dean and his wife-to-be were trying to talk me through things. I had bottomed out (again). I can't remember if I was crying, hurting myself or babbling away in a way to give concern, but they both had me and were trying to ease me through to the other side. I trusted Dean, he spoke with candor and often found a way for things to make sense for me. This night was no different. I don't know why he said what he did, but Dean said something that would eventually lead to the start of my recovery.

Listen to the music he said. Let it take you. Let it lead you.

There was no 'shining light of the Almighty' that you would get in films. There was no immediate eureka moment. But the words burrowed away deep in me, ready to force their way out later when I would be more receptive to them.

College were trying to be supportive of me. I talked candidly to my tutor and one of my drama lecturers who I'd developed a close bond with and they both convinced me to make an appointment with the college counsellor to try to help. My first fumbling attempt at trying to get help in this way. Again, I can't remember much of the sessions or the person leading them. I can't even remember how many sessions I had. All I vaguely remember were breathing and relaxation exercises, but then again I may have gotten those from my drama class. I just can't remember anything momentous from them. Again, I was still stuck in my mire.

The counseling really didn't do anything for me, it just left me cold with still no answers. Perhaps I just wasn't ready for it at the time. I just don't know. It left me feeling even more adrift in my life.

Something else happened. My mam would go and have a spiritualist reading about once a year and she went to see her usual one a few months after my suicide attempt. He started talking about me to her. I'm not sure of exactly what was said but he alluded to that part of the reason I was struggling with things was because I was sensitive to spirits. They were trying to communicate things through m. He wanted to help me without any charge so he passed his number on and told me to ring.

After a few days I rang and arranged to meet him to talk, which we did. He taught me things, like how to relax myself and go into a trance-like state. To put myself into a place where I could see things people normally couldn't see. Auras. Colours. Voices. Some things I can't begin to describe, and I think I'm pretty good with words. There was just something else out there that I became attuned to.

It lasted a few weeks before I  stopped going to the sessions. My brain and my imagination had gone into overdrive. My dreams became vivid and unsettling. I always felt like there was always something else there around me, and it wasn't always comforting. I would see things in the very edge of my eyesight that I knew physically couldn't be there. I know what you're thinking. I know you're questioning it. But you know what? You could be right. Perhaps I was hallucinating this. Perhaps I wasn't. I know what I felt I experienced and I have faith that what I experienced wad real to me. I don't claim to have proof of the world beyond, and I certainly won't stand here and try to talk people into believing it. I went through what I went through, and I know I had some sort of spiritual awakening because of it. But my beliefs are mine, not yours. Do I believe in ghosts and an afterlife? I honestly don't know, couldn't answer you hand on heart. I just think there's something else out there, that we can't quite explain.

I know, it sounds odd sharing something like that. But it happened and I'm okay with it being part of my life. It sounds odd as I think of myself as having a rational and logical approach to things and this conflicts with that. But that was my experience and I've embraced it as part of my life.

So, I turned my back on that and ran. I was still lost, still confused, still wanting a way to dissappear from it all. My list of questions just seemed to be growing longer and it felt like the answers I had or were being given just didn't add up. I didn't know what to do or how I was going to deal with it all. I couldn't just drift along forever hoping for something to come and guide me.

To be continued.....

Part of the title of this volume of my blog is from the song Footsteps, a song by Pearl Jam. The lyrics are quite poignant. You can find a video of the song here Pearl Jam - Footsteps (live). In fact, most of the blog titles when they're about me all tie in with songs I like in some shape or form.

As usual, if you'd like to contact me drop me an email at rustyred666@googlemail.com and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. I've set up a closed support group on Facebook, also called The Order Of The Dog. It's a place for sufferers and people who know people affected by mental health issues. Just search for it and request to join. Also, if you'd like to share your story, message me on the above email address. Finally, please feel free to share this blog anywhere and with anyone you might think would appreciate it.

Cheers,

Scott
The Order Of The Dog. 

The End Of Silence

Pretty much the last thing I do before I leave for work (or indeed anywhere) is make sure I have my ipod and headphones with me. I honestly don't know what I would do without them on my journey to work, which takes about an hour and a half each morning, and the same every night. I use music in a way I would my medication (in fact I probably use it in a better way than I would my meds). It's there in a morning to motivate me, to get me ready for the day. Coming home it relaxes me, it removes me from anything negative arising from the day. It places me in a better headspace. I need it more than I need most things in my life. And even more so, it helps to dampen the noise. Not just the noise from my immediate environment - people talking, the noise on the bus, traffic outside - but also from the internal noise that anxiety brings, the constant overacting mechanisms of my overworking brain.

We get so used to noise in our lives. The hustle and bustle of what goes on around us, the constant thrum of traffic, the endless chatter of people. The concept of absolute silence feels daunting to us. Just try to think about the last time you heard nothing at all for a period of time. Generally there's always something there, something in the background. Silence sounds like an unsettling prospect but you should try it sometime. Switch everything off and remove yourself from the relentless pace and general hubbub of modern living.

I was talking to my friend Steve online the other morning. I've lived somewhere quite rural for a while now whilst he's just moved somewhere rural too. We were talking about the views and comparing how quiet each place was. It kind of struck me in that moment as to how much I relish the silence around where I live (something I know my friend is really enjoying at the moment). When everything gets switched off in the house you don't hear any of the usual noise that constantly bleeds into your life when live somewhere suburban. All you can really hear sometimes is the wind, the rain and the occasional sound of birdsong.

Noise can come in various forms. People, animals and the place you're in can all contribute to this. Some is welcoming, some isn't. But noise is also something that interrupts our understanding of something. In communications noise is described as a 'disturbance in the transmission of a message that interferes with the interpretation of the message due to ambiguity in words, sentences or symbols used in the transmission of the message'.

I often refer to my mental health issues as white noise. To me they stop me from processing things or feeling things properly. They add confusion to the situation. What should be a nice simple 1+2=3 becomes something completely different. Everything becomes unpredictable to a certain extent.

Paranoia creeps in and colours everything. Conversations that you have suddenly seem to develop hidden meanings as you let the white noise in your head fuck with you. Everything becomes interpreted incorrectly. Offers of help feel like offers of condemnation. You feel constantly persecuted. Nobody is on your side. Everyone is out to get you. The thoughts go racing through your head until they become a relentless, intangible mess you just can't make sense of. All you want is for it to just go away.

Silence becomes the perfect metaphor for those rare moments where you can process things rationally, without having to hack away at all the crap that surrounds and confuses everything. Those perfect moments of peace are rare but are attainable. It's hard for people who've never experienced anxiety to understand as they don't get that level of noise that adds confusion to everything. To them, noise is just a slight distraction, something that occasionally clouds their train of thought but doesn't derail it.

Sometimes trying to live with anxiety involves having to try and retrain your brain into a pattern and behaviour that's probably more akin to how 'normal' people process things. The process of taking information, understanding it and reacting. When it's put like that everything sounds so simple. Too simple though, says the anxious mind, what else is going on? There's got to be something else...

That's why, to me anyway, I feel exhausted and tired a lot when I'm going through an episode of anxiety. Everything runs in fight-or-flight mode,everything is always on and turned up. There's no escape from it. You wake up and it's there, you try to do things and it's there, you try to sleep and, guess what, it's there. There's just no escape from it. That's why I relish these moments of silence so much, they're my respite from my constant battle against the noise in my head. It means most things are working fine and I'm not overprocessing everything. The noise in my head can't be drowned out with other things, that just adds to the cacophony. I need a complete absence from it for me to function as a normal person would. Everything else is just me trying to cope and wade through life as best as I can.

As usual, if you want to talk more you can email me at rustyred666@googlemail.com. We've also set up a closed support group on Facebook, also called The Order Of The Dog. Just search for it and request to join, we'll let you in. It's the perfect place to go if you want to talk. There's suffers there like myself, as well as people who are looking to support others. Finally, please feel free to share this anywhere where you might think it will help.

Cheers,

Scott
The Order Of The Dog.

"Change Your Beliefs, Change Your Life" - Talking Spirituality With Sky Baby

Spirituality is a curious thing. It's not for everyone and it can really polarise people's opinions. To me it's like having a sense of faith and purpose, something to help guide you through life. To some it can prove a hindrance, but to others it can be something that is really beneficial and positive, helping them through some really dark moments when they need it.

I first met Sky Baby in a Facebook music group a couple of years ago. A while ago she started posting about the struggles she was having and how her spiritual approach was helping her get through it. I was always curious as to how it worked and what she did to get through. When I started writing these blogs Sky Baby would drop me the odd message of support so I thought it only natural to reach out to her and ask if she'd like to share her experiences. Again, it's a hard read but a lot of times in life we need to realise that not everything is easy to sit through and understand. Guilt is a powerful feeling, it shows that deep down in our souls we're good people at the core, even if sometimes we do things that hurt the ones we love around us.

When did you first notice signs of mental health issues? In what way did they start?
I first was diagnosed with post natal depression when my eldest son was born, although I had bouts of incandescent rage where I'd black out before I was diagnosed. I was desperately unhappy and my husband at the time was totally unsupportive, he refused to discuss it with me and would walk away whenever I tried to talk to him - this was back in the 80's when it really wasn't a thing. I was given Prothiaden and they turned me into a zombie, and didn't stop the rages. I used to lock my stepson in his room for his own safety, and I couldn't talk to anyone about it, I was completely isolated. I took myself off them after a couple of years, went cold turkey. I developed an alter ego to help me cope, I'd go out at the weekend and get smashed then come back and pretend to be a mother. I was functioning on the outside but inside I was in meltdown. I felt so guilty about my feelings towards my stepson, I still do, but we have a good relationship now.

I eventually got counselling when Alex was 2, in 1986. I started off seeing my counsellor once a month, then over the next three years it went up til I was seeing her twice a week. One day I had the revelation that I didn't think my mother loved me, and my counsellor told me not to make any rash decisions as she was getting married and would be away for three weeks. I lost the plot, left my husband and the kids (I had a daughter as well by now, who was 2) and ran away. I remember Killer by Adamski was on the radio the morning I decided to leave.

Did you try to seek medical assistance at all? 
After the disaster with the counselling I lost all faith in doctors. I took an overdose of some Prothiaden I'd saved just in case and drank a bottle of Southern Comfort. Put me off it for life ☺️ My family still don't know about that. They're not really good with it all. I don't bother telling them anything, they simply don't understand. My mum said she didn't have time to have post natal depression 😳

How did your friends and family take to you? Did you find people supportive or did they struggle to understand what you were going through?
See above. Also, I didn't want to bother my friends with it, I brushed it all under the carpet and got on with things.

How have you found trying to cope with them? Have you had any major effects from suffering with anxiety and depression?
I've spent my entire life running away from whatever presented itself as a problem. I've since realised that I was running away from my own painful emotions, so it's led to a path of self discovery, eventually.

You've mentioned in the past that you've found a spiritual approach has helped you as you've had issues with medication. Was this something you were always aware of or was it something that you came across by chance?
I was always a little weirdo. I used to ask the moon for what I wanted, and I wanted to be a witch when I grew up, so it was always there. I think my first question was "what's the universe?" No wonder my mum didn't know how to deal with me.

My whole life I couldn't make sense of the world I lived in, people didn't make sense to me, I was convinced I was adopted because nobody thought the way I did. I got into tarot and spirituality when I was about 15 or 16, and then I started to feel like I wasn't alone, that there were others like me in the world. I drifted in and out of it, trying constantly to fit in to normal life and never really managing it. Although I've managed to have a lot of adventures instead so I am not complaining 😂

Then in 2007 I was attuned to reiki and that started a domino effect that changed everything for me.

What is it that you do that helps you cope with things?
I learnt through various spiritual teachings that the only way out is in, and the thing that's in the way is the way! Instead of running away from my emotions I started sitting with them and really feeling them, look on for the truth hidden underneath them. Through channeled material like Abraham Hicks and Bashar I learned that your beliefs create your reality, and, as a belief is just a thought you keep thinking, you can change them. Change your beliefs, change your life. It can be incredibly hard work. I virtually stayed in bed for two years just processing emotions, crying it all out, but I'm really seeing a difference now. I'm much more self aware, and I have so many fascinating insights about not just myself but emotions in general, and I know I've had this journey for a reason.

Obviously different things work for different people. What other alternative paths would you suggest?
Reiki is fantastic, it's non intrusive, subtle but powerful. It works on all levels - emotional, spiritual, physical. And self enquiry is essential, that way you take responsibility for your own healing and you can do it as an ongoing thing, no need to rely on doctors or medication. And you always have someone to talk to and something to do 😂

I'm closing, is there anything else you'd like to add?
Well, I'm a work in progress, and I'm sure it'll never get done, but it's becoming fun now, it's interesting, I've definitely turned a corner and I'm really proud of myself. The fact that it's so much easier to talk about now is definitely helping, and blogs like this are just brilliant, thanks Scott x

About an hour later I also got this sent to me:

Also...... another way it's impacted me is that when I ran away I left my kids with their dad, and then a few years later I did exactly the same thing with my second family. I was so terrified of being a bad mother I thought they'd be better off without me, and in doing so became a bad mother. I'm still working through it, and am completely baffled by the fact that my kids are totally forgiving of me. I know it's why my youngest is having such a hard time, and it's excruciating. I do believe tho that when the time is right we will be able to talk about it properly.

Whilst I was working on this blog I got another email from Sky Baby. She'd decided to take a step forward and starting talking to her youngest son about her depression. I'm sure it wasn't an easy conversation to have but I sincerely hope they both feel better for it and continue moving onwards.

It's never too late to open up and share with people.

As usual, if you want to talk further you can drop me an email at rustyred666@googlemail.com. We've set up a closed support group on Facebook as well, also called The Order Of The Dog. Please search for it and request to join. It's not just for people with mental health issues, it's also there for people who want to support their loved ones through it. Finally, please feel free to share this blog wherever you'd like and particularly with anyone you think it might help.

Cheers,

Scott.
The Order Of The Dog.

Somewhere In Another Land You Can't Take Much More

The past week has gone by in a bit of a blur. Sometimes this can be a good thing, other times you end up sitting and worrying, wondering where the time has gone and how long is left in the hourglass.

To me, the week has been about connecting and sharing. To me it's been really helpful and has really helped me keep focus and move forward.

The week started with my head still not in a great place (see my blog 'Got The Number Thirteen Tattooed On My Neck...'). I knew that the gig I'd played hadn't been the total wreck I'd made it out to be in my head, but I was still struggling to help turn things around. My head still seemed firmly up my arse.

I got out of it by working hard on the blogs. I'd sent some emails out to people to share their stories and I'd received them back. Working through their emails made me think. I was in a good place really. The fact that I felt I'd played a poor gig by my standards was insignificant in the gteart scheme of things. Nobody would really remember it. Put it behind you and move on Hamilton.

So I did. Producing the blogs became my focus for the week. Other people's stories took over a lot of my time. To me, the fact that people felt that they could trust me with helping tell their story was a huge thing for me, as well as being incredibly humbling. I could read their stories and edit them to help them reach other people. I was connecting to people, with people and helping them with a voice to reach others.

Sometimes you need these things in your life, even if you don't realise it. When I started this I didn't think of how it would help me connect with other people and how this would help me. I've had messages from people I know and people I don't thanking me for putting words to things they had problems with describing, for helping give them a voice. I want to thank these people as well as everyone who reads or shares the blog. I never thought this would help me the way it does. It's now become a major part of my life. Right now it's Sunday evening and I've spent the past few hours working on the blog and I did the same last night too. Normally I would have read, watched TV or played on the X Box. But here I am, editing interviews, reading up on things, preparing to email questions out and typing up on here. And this makes me happy. It makes me feel like I've gained a purpose, almost a reason for why I have my anxiety and depression. And, hell, if that's the reason I suffer then I'm good with that.

The blogs are a good way for me to connect, but they also work really well for the people telling the story too. Take for example, the post I did with Sky Baby and her spiritual approach with her issues (see blog "Change Your Beliefs, Change Your Life" - Talking Spirituality With Sky Baby). When she emailed me back the answers she'd sent she'd mentioned how writing everything down had helped her connect with some of her issues. It seemed that by the act of writing them down in an email had helped almost visualise them and put some perspective on some of them (my words, not hers). She also emailed me later to say that she'd decided to talk openly with her youngest son. He hadn't realised how much she'd suffered from it. This had really made me happy. She used the situation to connect with someone in a way she hadn't before and that's what it's all about.

Sometimes we go through life wondering who we connect with. Some people we connect with on a daily basis, sometimes the connection isn't physically made for days, weeks or months. But you know the connections are still there. You'll never truly know the influence you have with people, or what you really mean to them. Sometimes you think you might have an idea, but often is like looking at the ocean and trying to wonder how deep it is.

Every day something touches me. Occasionally it's a missed opportunity. On Saturday Sarah and I were in Durham  (the market city near to where we live). I'm the marketplace a young woman was sitting in a chair and had a sign that said "I feel lonely. Please hug me" and I'll admit I thought poor woman. I resolved to myself that I'd give her a hug as we came past later. About an hour or so we walked back through the marketplace. I looked for but she was gone. I felt quite sad. Why hadn't I hugged her when I first saw her? What had held me back and made me put it off? I really don't know. All I know is I felt bad. I hope she got the hugs and she doesn't feel as lonely now.

The missed connection has sat with me for the past few days now and it doesn't feel good to me. I hate the fact that I'm regretting NOT doing something. Not only does it feel like I've let me down bit I've let them too, by simply not hugging a stranger. I promise next time I won't let that connection slip by. I'll reach out. I don't care of it's someone I know or not, I'll reach out and I'll be there for them.

If you see me and you want a hug, come and ask for one. I promise you can have one.

As usual, if you want to talk you can email me at rustyred666@googlemail.com. I'll try my best to answer you as quick as I can. If you need a bit more support, we've created a closed support group on Facebook, also called The Order Of The Dog. Just search for it and request to join. It's not just for people who suffer from mental health, it's for everyone. I want to help educate and support people as best as I can. Finally, please feel free to share this blog wherever you think it'll be of help.

Cheers,

Scott
The Order Of The Dog.

"I'm Still Running Around In Circles But Still Smiling" - A Conversation With Rachael

Rachael has been through a lot in spite her young age. A hell of a lot. So much that when I read the answers she sent to me from our q&a session my head was spinning from it all. But let's rewind little bit.

Rachael is a member of The Order Of The Dog group on Facebook and is always trying to be positive with people. She'd commented on one of the blog posts I'd put up and we got to briefly chatting. She shared with me a link to a newspaper article she'd appeared in about the help that the charity Barnados had helped with. Here's the article here: http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/uk-news/scandal-teenagers-leaving-care-nowhere-4845918#ICID=sharebar_facebook. Go take a minute, give it a read, then come back here. We used it as a jumping off point point for our question and answer session and I'll admit that I wasn't quite expecting the answers I got back. Like I said she's been through a lot for someone so young. Without further ado, here's Rachael's story.

The article says you found yourself in foster care from the age of twelve. Do you mind telling us what led to that?
Anxiety and depression hit me with a bang at a young age. This was a very difficult time, been in and out of foster care before my teenage years. Family problems, behaviour and also being abused physically, emotionally and sexually. My mental health was not recognised at this stage of my life.

It mentions that you started suffering from anxiety around then. How did it start manifesting itself to you? Was there any support available to you at the time?
I self-harmed by cutting my wrists and taking a numerous of overdoses to end my life. Times were hard. I struggled to cope with society. I started taking drugs and drinking alcohol to try and break the barriers and also hide away any negative thoughts and issues going on at that moment in my life. I didn’t understand the damage I was doing to my body; I thought it was an acceptable coping strategy at that time. On these occasions I had my stomach pumped in hospital to remove the access of medication chemicals. This was a very traumatic experience of my life, I felt alone and I had nowhere to turn at a young age of 13. I ignored help and support from social services as I just thought they were being nosey and interfering not supportive. My behaviour was out of control, I ended up being placed in a Children’s home 17 miles away from my home town. This was far from an easy time of my life. I started taking drugs and I was highly addicted to cannabis. I was unaware of the harm I was doing to my body, my coping strategies were drinking alcohol and taking drugs. Time went on…..

You ended up leaving care around seventeen where you started showing symptoms of depression and started self-harming. How hard was it on you to try and find support at this time? How bad were things for you around this time?
It was time to become independent at the age of 17. Three months before turning an adult at 18, I moved into a flat independently. I was given support to move out but no one knew what I was going through mentally. I tried to commit suicide by ending my life to jump off a bridge. Luckily a stranger was walking past and grabbed my leg otherwise to this day I would be no longer alive. The same day I took another overdose as I was so adamant I wanted to leave and the world would have been a better place without me. I was taken into hospital for further treatment.
I found it very difficult to open up and talk to people about my issues. I hid behind closed doors and refused support. Things were deteriorating and I eventually discussed my issues with a support worker. The support worker was very understanding. The help was only in place for a few months. I felt crushed to pieces. I ended up moving out and closer to family.
I moved closer to my family in a second flat of my own just after my 19th birthday. The move was the right option at the time I couldn’t have made a better decision. After a few months of living in a small village I felt isolated and no one around me. My mental health got worse and I became paranoid, depression and anxiety tore me apart and I self-harmed again. Only this time I started sniffing aerosols and had taken another overdose. I was taken to hospital for a third time to get my stomach pumped.

In the article you credit the charity Barnados for helping you. What did they do to help you break the cycle?
The third time of taking an overdose I was supported by Barnados. The support from them was outstanding. They changed my life and gave me an opportunity to move in with a family with a supported lodgings provider. I made a big decision giving up my flat and furniture this was for the better. It only meant I would have to start all over again in the future … But Barnados were willing to help me. The support was giving continuous through my placement. They were amazing! The months were flying by with happiness; it was just about time to move out as I was approaching 21 years of age. This was a scary time in my life, as I was so happy…
June 2013 was just around the corner. Barnados and my supported lodgings family give me help to move out in too my 3rd flat. The saying “third time lucky” is true…. :)

How have you found things since then? Are you using other methods of support? And how are you trying to move on?
Since moving in to my new independent home in 2013, times have been very difficult. I have been going around in circles. I never seemed to be getting any better. Months and years have come and gone. I started looking for employment as it got to a stage where I thought I was stable with mental health. I started volunteering local to home to improve my support networks, skills and experience to move into employment. I found employment; I started an apprenticeship after a wobbly beginning, which last six months due to stress and being paranoid. I then moved into a further two works places which also didn’t work out in the end due to my mental health deteriorating. At this point I thought I was worthless. There was a positive outcome of the situation; I gained a Level 3 Diploma in Customer Service. Despite the difficulties I battled through each day with mental health and I never gave up.
I gave it a week or two and then I signed up for another course. At the time I thought I made the right decision. I went straight into a different career path. My job lasted just under three months and I’m still running around in circles but still smiling.

Finally, have you got any final words for us?  
The support from my GP has been outstanding. Living with a mental health illness is not easy. I take my hats off to you.
My advice to you all is; never give up. We are here for a short and good time, not long and unhappy time. I am thinking of all you survivors and I 100% know what you are all going through I have lived with it for years.
KEEP YOUR HEAD UP HIGH AND SMILE. THE WORLD IS YOUR OYSTER.

Rachael still has bad days as well as good ones but, from speaking to her, she tries hard not to let them overwhelm her when she can and takes everything one step at time. And that is something we should all strive for. Don't feel like you're being caged in with a life that doesn't work. Take a step forward and try to make the change that you need.

I'd like to take a moment to thank Rachael for letting me share her story with you. If you want to contact me drop me a line at rustyred666@googlemail.com. We've set up a closed support group for anyone suffering with mental health issues as well as anyone supporting them. Just search for The Order Of The Dog and request to join. Finally, please feel free to share these blogs with anyone you think might benefit from them. The more we help educate and inform people the better we can help each other.

Cheers,

Scott
The Order Of The Dog.

Mental Health First Aid - Another Chat With Little Lost Sometimes

So, earlier this week I posted the first part of an interview with Little Lost Sometimes (please see "Stop Defining Yourself By Medical Terms" - The Story Of Little Lost Sometimes for her frank story). She also does Mental Health First Aid, which is a great idea to help support people with mental health issues. I thought that it was a fascinating idea. There's often a medical first aid staff member at work, so why not someone who supports mental health issues? Here she is taking about and answering some questions on the subject.

Could you please describe what Mental Health First Aid (MHFA) entails?
MHFA is first aid for the less physical problems. It teaches you how to provide the initial help in an emergency, and offer an ear/signpost for the less immediate needs.

Where did you first hear about it?
My workplace has embraced the programme. One lady in particular has been instrumental in getting it going here, but many of the other offices have also taken it up. An email went out asking if anyone as interested and I was.

How have you found it? Have you found people to be receptive of it?
In practice for me it’s 99% learning to listen, and look out for others. It takes nothing to say “You seem really withdrawn today. Is everything OK?” or “You’ve not been your usual self lately, anything I can help with?” I am free for a chat anytime, about most anything. I get tapped on IM, and all sorts of random times. People are generally really positive about it. Often they want to know where to go for support for particular situations (bereavements, cancer support, childcare issues), or just vent after a stressful time. I spend maybe an hour a week on it, but there are lots of us around, so collectively we have a big impact.

Have you noticed any major benefits from it, from either yourself or from other people?
If everyone had a good support system, there will be less sick days, more productivity, more creativity, and generally a better environment. I think people have really thought about that, and we’re making headway demystifying a lot of topics around mental health. In my experience it’s really helped us all realise that we do have a support system through work, and it is OK to use it. We’re far more lenient with each other, and much more willing to honestly answer “How are you?”.

Would you advocate it other people and companies looking to invest in it?
A thousand times yes! It is for anyone that comes into any sort of contact with anyone ever. You aren’t learning to be a therapist, or diagnostician. Just learning to listen to others is such a great life skill. Knowing how to help get someone into a safe pair of hands when everything goes wrong can’t be a bad thing. Part of the problem with non-led support groups is often people come at it with the attitude of “I’m depressed, so I *know* depression” you don’t, you know *your* depression. Courses also tend to attract those that have experience themselves, or through a loved one, and that can bring a lot of un-open attitudes. This really makes it easy to stop trying to categorise, and start actually supporting.

Finally, could you summarise your experiences and feelings about MHFA up please?
This course highlights the many many different ways things can affect people, and how you can be a help. I can see its benefit in my work-life, and personal life. So many ways to support are so easy, but we just don’t do them because it feels weird. If we can move past the feeling, and know it’s the right thing to do, we just might make a positive difference in our worlds.

Thanks for Little Lost Sometimes for talking about this. If you'd like to learn more about Mental Health First Aid then please go to http://mhfaengland.org/ for more information.

If you'd like to talk to me further, please drop me a message at rustyred666@googlemail.com. We've created a little secluded closed support group on Facebook, also called The Order Of The Dog. It's not just for people with mental health issues but it's also there to help offer support to people who want to learn more and people who know sufferers. We're there to help listen and offer a shoulder for anyone who needs it.

Cheers,

Scott Hamilton.
The Order Of The Dog.

"Stop Defining Yourself By Medical Terms" - The Story of Little Lost Sometimes

When I first started The Order Of the Dog, a few people commented on it that were friends of friends, people I didn't know. It was interesting that they felt they could talk about what I had gone through to someone they'd never met but could empathise with what I was going through. It helped vindicate the fact being open and sharing about my anxiety and depression was the right course of action for me. On the back of that I created the closed Facebook group The Order Of The Dog so people could share and talk a bit further in a closed secure group. It became part of my healing and recovery process and it seems to help myself and others in so many ways.

A few weeks later I asked if anyone would like to share their story on the blog and this person became the first to volunteer. We'd already talked about her work as a Mental Health First Aider, which we'll discuss more in the next post. However, I'd like to share her story now. It's a difficult read from the very start but I'm pleased that they've allowed us to share it with you.

When did you first feel signs of anxiety or depression? How did everything manifest?
Wow.. that was soooooo long ago. I was maybe 13. I was assaulted and raped at a friend's house by another guest. I miscarried awhile later. That was what tipped the scales. I think it would've happened anyway, but that particular shitastic event sparked the first bouts. I didn't tell anyone for nearly a year. My family still don't know that story. I became quite secretive and withdrawn. I think depression is a stupid name for it. I think of it as a trip to apathy-land: I don't care, I don't anything. I'm not present. My mom set me up with "family counselling" what a joke. I hope it helped her. All it did for me was enable me to get a bit more space and a diagnosis. I'm not sure that a diagnosis was shared with my family. I attempted suicide several times, failing spectacularly every time. Again, no one knew. I decided the universe wasn't ready to let me go, and stopped trying. I saw my school counsellor a few times, and picked up some really good tips at recognizing my behaviour patterns, and breaking the habits that enable things to get worse. I was still struggling. I went from completely repressed to overtly sexual. A string of one-night stands, bad relationships, drugs, drinking, smoking, and so on; as well as being a workaholic. Every waking moment of my life had to be filled with distraction or mind-altering substances. Sobriety and quiet were painful. Around 17/18 I had a look around, and decided this wasn't really helping anyone, and moved away for university. Here's where I finally got some good therapy. I also started doing peer support for sexual abuse, and have truly closed that chapter. I was 21 the first time I was happy, care-free and in touch and in control of my emotions. I still go through bouts. It's more anxiety than depression for the last decade or so. Anxiety is a different kettle of fish. It's like the feeling you get before a test, or about to go on holiday. I don't fret over every little thing, I'm just constantly expecting something to happen. I have erratic sleeping patterns, and eating as well.

Did you share with anyone about what you were going through and how did they  react to you? 
The family and friends that have been there give that look of knowing, and a 'hang in there, it's shit, but not forever'. The ones that haven't have mostly been supportive, usually in the most useless ways humanly possible. Nothing seems worse to me than the hushed tones and constant "how are you?" You know they mean well, but in that state it's just condescending twaddle. At least they do try, but they don't really understand for the most part. Most of them just think I'm sad, or have blues, teenage strops, baby blues.. there are loads of names for the same general sadness, which is not what I'm dealing with.

Did you particularly find any one time worse than the others? 
Probably 18.. that was god-awful. I was a teenager, which means more hormones than brain-cells, and was nauseous and achy at the thought of getting out of bed. I don't even remember most of it... I worked, went to school, worked some more. If I had any free time I filled it with all the wrong people and habits. This was when I first started actually recognizing and confronting the feelings, so it was the worst to go through, but the most satisfying to get through.

How do you try to cope with your episodes? Do you find some things work better than others? 
I find walking helps me. Writing is also good. I tend to write lists and emails that I never send. Talking and venting are good, but I have to be careful to contain it. It's SO easy to fall into the victim mentality when venting. Instead of clarifying your thoughts by saying them, you can easily just be whining and looking for others to validate you are a victim, instead of taking responsibility for yourself, even when depressed. Yes, I can experience depression, or anxiety, but that's my issue, and I shouldn't get a free pass to be a selfish-bitch or shirk all responsibility.

For the anxiety I flip coins. I need *an* answer. It doesn't have to be right, just something to hang my hat on until I learn more, so I flip coins for answers until I get the real ones. If that's all it takes, I'm good. My anxiety is more low level and constant instead of panic attacks. Imagine constantly waiting for something, or feeling like someone’s just about to knock…. for months. The questions I need answers to aren’t even exciting. “Will it rain tomorrow?”

You've told me that you lived in the US previously. Have you noticed much difference between mental health issues and how they are treated in the States to over here?
Money money money! In the States it's all about if you can afford care, here it's more just how long you'll wait. As far as public attitudes, I think the younger generations are pretty on par, but the older can be a bit more misunderstanding. In the States, mental health awareness has been more prevalent for longer, and it's much more accepted as existing. Sadly that doesn't extend to understanding the individual challenges. Since everyone is different, more people feel the need to defend the uniqueness of their battles, and can get quite defensive. For example: I am depressed  - 'Oh yeah, well, my life is hard too!' or 'My depression is more this that or the other'. In the UK, It's getting more accepted rapidly, but it's come with more accepting instead of comparing. There's mostly the financial side of it. Here you can get paid time off, you can get free treatment, you can get affordable medications, and you can get free support. The access makes a huge difference.

Do you have anything to say here finally?
If I could go back and tell my younger self how to deal with this; I'd say to stop defining yourself by medical terms. You aren't depression. Don't wallow in self-pity, and the woe-is-me attitude, it will only make things ten times worse. Your brain is clearly fucking with you, so don't trust it to choose wisely. Go out, do things, try stuff, have some alone time, but don't listen to that dirty liar in your head that says it will all be crap. You are not psychic, stop pretending you know what the future holds. I wasted so much of my life uttering the phrase "because I'm depressed" and I will never get that time back. Having depression is like having arthritis; there are some things you are going to really struggle with, and some that will cause pain, but if you just sit in your corner and do nothing because of an illness you will waste away. Stop fulfilling the prophecy. Sadly, I would shout it at the top of my lungs, and my younger self wouldn’t have listened. Every single person will experience depression, anxiety, and psychosis in their life. It’s only an issue if it goes on too long, and can’t be controlled.

Thanks to Little Lost Sometimes for sharing their story. As usual if you want to talk to can reach me at rustyred666@googlemail.com. Also, please feel free to join our closed Facebook group The Order Of The Dog  (you can request to join by searching for it on FB). Only people who are in the group can see what gets posted there. Finally, please share the blogs wherever you wish, especially with people and groups where it would be of benefit.

Cheers,

Scott Hamilton
The Order Of The Dog.

Got The Number Thirteen Tattooed On My Neck.....

Sometimes you think you've totally nailed your recovery after your last big episode then something comes along to remind you that you've still got some way to go.

Last night was the band's first gig in six months. No real pressure as it was for a friend's birthday party. We'd been offered a couple of other gigs but I'd said no to them. I didn't want any pressure on me about playing for the moment. The party would be a good place to test the waters to make sure everything was okay before we moved forward.

I'd struggled connecting with playing the guitar whilst I had my last bout with anxiety and depression. I normally found it therapeutic, I'll happily sit and strum and finger pick chords whilst watching TV. We've got guitars scattered all over the house so there's always one close by. But instead, I'd lost my connection to playing. I had no desire to play. I'd try picking the guitar in the living room up to play along with a song but I'd get nothing. I'd also pulled out of band practices too. I couldn't face the journey to and from practice. I couldn't face trying to fake my way through playing our songs and starting work on recording our album.

This worried me. I loved playing with my band and had really enjoyed playing acoustically at a friend's wedding last year, something I was looking forward to exploring. I was quite excited about exploring adifferent musical avenue to run alongside the band. I'd sit for hours hoping that the desire to play would come back. I felt like I was letting people down. Nothing seemed to be there. I seriously considered my future in the band. The Dog was telling me to jack it all in,to tell the rest of the band to go on without me. Sell my guitars and amps and never think of playing again.

Thankfully, something inside me told me to wait. It saw through the Dog and got me to hold off turning my back on playing. I'm pleased it did. I know now that it would have been a rash decision and also the wrong one to make. The guitars might have gathered dust but at least they remained.

My first practice back felt good but wobbly, which is only natural. I had doubts about my ability to play, my ability to sing. Long held fears and worries came back (another story for another time) but we worked through it. In the down time we had we'd moved into our own practice space, so we could take our own time and work more around our schedule. It felt good to stand in front of an amp with the guitar plugged in and play a chord and then a riff. It was sloppy, but that was because I was just out of practice.

Fast forward a few weeks. I felt like I was back up to speed with pretty much everything else in my life. The last part of the jigsaw of my life was the band and playing. The gig was the last peice to be slipped into place to compete the picture. I had the right peice but last night I just didn't know how to fit it into the hole.

Everything last night just felt that little bit off. It wasn't anyone's fault, but something wasn't quite right. I'd become suddenly self conscious about myself, feeling incredibly overweight. A quiet PA made me feel like my voice was inadequate for the job. The quiet backline of amps made it hard to immerse myself in the music. I snapped a string on my main guitar during soundcheck. I found it near impossible to make eye contact with the audience, choosing instead it keep my eyes tightly closed and hide under the flat cap I was wearing, trying hard to keep my focus from wandering.

After our set I stood talking with Craig, the other guitarist in our band. I've known him a long time and we've played in the same bands as each other for most of that time. He's pretty much the kid brother I never had and he can read me like a book. He could tell I felt a bit dejected about the performance. Craig pointed out that it was the first gig we'd played in six months and the first one was always going to be the hardest to get through. But we didn't pull the gig and we made it through to the end. It was done, dusted and out of the way. We could put it behind us, move on and build from it.

That's what I'm trying to do. Today is a different day. I still feel a bit down on it but it wasn't the train wreck it could have been. Now, I'm just tired through lack of sleep but I don't have to worry about doing that first gig back again. I can continue looking at the band's future while I work on getting my confidence back to where it needs to be.

As always, you can drop me an email anytime at rustyred666@googlemail.com. We've also created a closed support group on Facebook, also called The Order Of The Dog, where you can come and find kindred spirits. There's plenty of help and support there for anyone going through or helping support anyone with mental health issues. Please feel free to share this blog around.

The next two blogs are going to be a little different. The first one, hopefully going up on Tuesday, is someone from The Order Of The Dog's story based on some questions I emailed them. Later on in the week I'll be putting up something about Mental Health First Aid, what it is and what it does.

Cheers,

Scott
The Order Of The Dog.

Is Nothing As It Seems?

Writing the blog has made me think a lot about events from the past and how their actions ripple across your life shaping who and what you are now. My overdose attempt from my late teens was definitely such an event. That one action has certainly acted as a kind of ground zero for me, making sure that everything after that would be different, that my life couldn't be the same after it.

According to the website www.mental health.org.uk recent statistics show that 4,400 people intentionally killed themselves in the UK last year (to put that into perspective that's one person every two hours), with people attempting it at nearly ten times that figure. There's a strong chance that you'll know someone who falls into those figures.

I've talked what happened leading up to it before previously (see my blog post Story Of My Life (Part One) - The Downward Spiral) so I won't go through them again here.

I've been asked before what went through my mind with the overdose. Someone even told me that they thought that me trying to take my own life was brave. Far from it, it wasn't brave. It wasn't a conscious decision that I made. It wasn't premeditated. I just reacted that way to the situation I'd placed myself in. It wasn't thought through in any way at all. There was no note, no real thought on what would happen to me or the people around me if I succeeded or what would happen if I didn't.

Suicide is never a selfish option, it's probably the worst thing you could say. Try telling the family of a loved one that a suicide attempt that it was selfish of the victim to push themselves through it and they'll give you a cold look, as well as probably some very harsh words. Often all they're left with are unanswered questions.

In fact even when an attempt is unsuccessful, there are plenty of unanswered and unanswerable questions. My family are fairly open about what happened but there's never been much discussion about it and my reasoning at the time for trying to take my own life. In respect though, I've never particularly asked them how they felt about it either. It's obviously a very hard subject to talk about with your loved ones.

Try to think what would go through a person's mind for them to consider this as their only viable option, that ending their existence and removing themselves from everything is the best course of action for them. It's hard but also it rarely makes any kind of sense.

People give up things in life for various different reasons. Some see a futility in carrying on with what they're currently doing. Some think that what they're currently doing is having a negative aspect on them. But most of all, people just want something to change. Suicide is a similar thing, just to an extreme degree. You feel that you have no control over anything. You want an end to everything, you want it all to stop. Part of you wishes you'd never existed and that by going through with it you can remove yourself from history.

I'm not advocating it at all. To me, it was worst thing I've ever done. But now, distance and time have made me able to look at it in a different light. If I'd never attempted it and failed, I wouldn't be the person I am now. It's part of what I've become. I'm not a total product of it, but it's heavily influenced who I am now, the way I think and the way I am. I've been able to embrace it and accept it's effects. And some twenty years distant from it I don't feel I'm any closer to understanding the reasons and motivations behind it.

It's not something that I'm proud of but it has enabled me to be who I am. The distance to the actions have given me a place in my life where I can talk about it without feeling the numbing guilt I carried for years. And when you survive you do carry that on. To me it was a weird mix of disappointment, embarrassment, resentment, anger and guilt, all because I'd failed in my attempt. A lot of it is focused on what you've put everyone else through and the remainder was because I'd failed. You have to live forever with the fact that you were low enough to put yourself, and, by extension of it, everyone else through it. It's almost a communal thing as, if a suicide attempt is successful, it's affects are felt by the people you leave behind. And they will struggle, they will suffer, and they will always be left wondering why.

As usual I'll sign off by saying if you want to talk more about this then you can email me at rustyred666@googlemail.com. Also we've put together a closed support group on Facebook that you can join. Just search for The Order Of The Dog and you'll find us. It's not just for people who suffer from mental health issues, it's for everyone.

One final thing. If you do find yourself in a place where you're considering something drastic like suicide, please talk to someone, anyone. If you don't have anyone close that you can open up to, there are groups like the Samaritins who will listen and try to help you. There's a free number you can ring them on in the UK. Just call 116123 any time of the day, any day of the year. Just don't let yourself become part of the above statistics.

Cheers,

Scott.
The Order Of The Dog.

I'll Ride The Wave Where It Takes Me......

"For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction." - Sir Isaac Newton, the Third Law of Motion.

Everything that happens has consequences because of it. Some are good, some are bad and some at the time seem meaningless. The simple act of holding open a door for someone could mean nothing to you, but to the person you hold it open for, it could mean a lot more. If they're having a bad day the simple act of you holding it open for them may just help to put a smile on their face.

Everything has a consequence.

When I started this blog, I had no expectations for it. I thought a couple of people I knew would read it and that would be it. After a few months I'd probably get bored and stop writing it altogether. I never thought they would be read nearly five thousand times. I never thought of the consequences it would have, of it's ripple effect. Sometimes if you knew what would happen as a result of your actions would you still do them?

The blog has helped me in several ways. For instance, it's helped with my recovery from my last episode by me being able to talk about it and try to verbalise what I went through. So, on a personal level, it's been able to become part of my ongoing therapy and also act as a diary of what has happened.

It's ripple has also spread to other people. Within the first few hours of my first post going live in received a pm from someone I didn't know. I'm not going to go into specifics but the person who messaged me wanted to thank me for writing it. A family member had gone through a horrible experience and my blog had helped them gain a small insight as to what they went through.

I was stunned. It wasn't something I was expecting at all. I had to sit for several minutes before I could think of a reply to them. I took my time to thank them for the message and it meant a lot for them to trust and be open to me. It stayed with me. I couldn't shake it even if I wanted to. The fact that I'd been able to connect with someone had been a major thing, especially after the episode is just had when I felt I'd become incredibly disconnected with things. I had a few other messages, comments and shares but that first one was the one that really affected me the most. I still think about it now.

After a couple of hours I'd decided to create a closed support group on Facebook as a result of that message. I wanted a place that people could go to and be able to talk to each other, to get support and a sense of belonging. At the minute there's about eighty members, interacting with each other, offering support when needed, inspirational quotes or pointing people to articles they've come across. It's been fantastic to see people become involved with each other that possibly may have never come across each other before.

Every time I publish a blog I'm thankful. Every time I publish one there are more ripples. People share it, interact with it, tell their stories. If you'd told me that six months ago is be doing this I really wouldn't have believed you. It's made me feel better in myself that I've been able to go and help educate people, to tell them that they're not alone as they go through this. Each ripple means something to me.

The other week I was at a gig and had a few people come up to me, to talk to me about the blog. People I knew and people I barely knew. I felt a little embarrassed when someone told me that it'd helped them think about how they would respond now to friends with mental health issues. Embarrassed but also really good that it had helped changed their perspective a bit. These are the reasons now I keep writing, why I keep telling my story.

But it's not just good things that can have a positive consequence, sometimes bad ones can be an influence for good as well.

I never thought that my overdose from years ago would have been such a thing but recently I found out from someone close to me that it had.

I was spending some time a few months ago with someone I've known for a long time. We were both talking about our current issues with anxiety and depression that we were both going through at the time. We'd talked about things for a while in the tones and words that only sufferers can have with each other. The talk turned to suicide attempts. They said that it had crossed their minds several times recently but they couldn't take it any further. Their reason as to why they couldn't was my suicide attempt from my late teens. They'd seen what it had done to me, the guilt I carried from surviving, but more importantly they'd seen the effect it had on the people around me, my family and friends. The people who couldn't understand why I'd gone through with it, the people who felt hurt that I hadn't been able to be open with them, the people who I hurt by attempting it.

They said they couldn't go through with it because they'd seen the effect it had on those people and they couldn't put anyone they knew through that.

Ripples after ripples after ripples.

It goes to show that these things can take their time. Not all of the consequences are seen straight away, some can take years to appear and can completely take you of guard when they happen. We need to welcome these moments and opportunities into our lives when we can and be thankful that we're there to see them. Remember that the actions that you have will follow you for forever, so try to make your actions count. It's better to try and do something positive, to try and turn something negative around and make it into something you can learn from. You can wallow in it but it won't help you.

I also want to start telling the stories of other people, to get their views and perspectives. I've already had volunteers and I'll be sending their questions out very soon. But I'd still like to hear more. So, if you'd like to take part please feel free to email me at rustyred666@googlemail.com. I'd love to hear from you and help tell your tale. You can email me at that address anytime if you'd like to talk about things further. Myself and a few others have also created a closed support group on Facebook, also called The Order Of The Dog, where you can come and find kindred spirits. Also, please feel free to share this blog and it's page with anyone you know, especially if you think it might be of help to someone. The more people we can educate the more we can try to help each other.

Cheers,

Scott.

You And Me, We're In This Together.

One of the main problems with mental health issues is the fact that it's not visible. Depression and anxiety show no real visible symptoms that can really be recognised. This makes it pretty hard for people to relate to what the sufferer is going through, and that can be really hard on not just the sufferer but also their loved ones.

Depression often takes you out of your social groups. You find it hard to relate to people, even close friends who've known you for years, and they can struggle with you. Just the fact of being able to open up and tell people what you're going through can be a totally daunting prospect.

Why is it so hard to ask for help? Do people worry that it's a sign of weakness? Are we worried of showing our vulnerability? By the act of asking for help do we feel like we will lose aspects of ourselves by relying on others?

When I started having my most recent episode last year I decided to be quite open and honest with it. People could see that something wasn't quite right with me. I thought I'd be open with my family, friends and work colleagues. Everyone was okay with me, nobody shunned me. Just the fact of explaining to people that I might not be my usual self seemed to help me by having it out in the open. When my feelings felt worse and the anxiety and depression closed in on me, people were already of accepting of it. I didn't have to create some web of bullshit to make myself and others feel comfortable. It meant I could focus on healing and trying to fight the illness. The more I shared the more support I'd find. I decided one day to admit on Facebook about the struggle I was having, mainly because I felt that if I said what was wrong with me then I wouldn't have to put up with ridiculous rumours. What I found was plenty of people who offered their help or support, people who said they knew how I felt, others that didn't but wanted me to know I was in their thoughts.

Fighting against depression and anxiety isn't really tackled alone, no matter what you think. There are always people around you who are willing to help you. I let people into my life that would be able to support me.

My first line of support is Sarah, my partner. We've been together just short of nine years together and out of everyone in this world, she's the person who knows me best. Over the years Sarah has had to get used to me being the way I am and how sometimes I'm hard to be with. She works in the NHS but sometimes she's found it hard to understand why I am this way, I think mainly because it's so hard to describe to someone what you're going through and make them understand something you find hard to comprehend or even articulate to yourself.  Also she cares for me and nobody wants to see someone they care about and love suffer. She's the perfect person for me. She knows when to push me out of my comfort zone but she also knows when to leave me alone. Sarah has been such a massive influence in my life. Not only has she helped make me a better person but she's also been there unquestionably for me, unwavering in her support even when she couldn't grasp why I needed it. I'm convinced that without her I would be nothing.

After that there's my immediate family. My parents are still protective of me in their own way. That part will never change, no matter how old you become, where your are or what you do. When I get like this they know enough to give me space whilst still being there for me. My mam often jokes that when she doesn't hear from me she knows I'm fine. They know that when I'm this way I'll let them know when I need them. Same as my two sisters, Lisa and Susan. They both live busy lives with their own families but it's reassuring to know that they're there for me, without question. That's the joy of your family. I believe that these ties surpass everything, they're indelible.

After that there's my friends. These are the people that chose to be part of your life and you choose to be part of theirs. I know they're there when I needed them too. The guys from the band I'm in, my work colleagues, people who I've known for years and others who I share a love of music with. They're the ones who'd drop you a message every now and again to see how you were doing. I also cultivated some new friendships during this time, people who I'd never physically met but who wanted to help me. And they did. Sometimes it's easier to talk to someone who's a relative stranger. I really don't know why, I think it's to do with the fact they really don't have any judgement of you. That's part of the joy of the world wide web. You can be as close or as distant to anyone you want to be. It's opened up new channels to for me to vent, to explore, new ways to express myself and reach out to others. Miles become transversed in microseconds. Our community now truly is global, something I still find amazing to this day. You can talk to someone as quickly and easily on the opposite side of the planet as someone in the next room. Every day, the world we're in becomes that little bit smaller, that little less daunting. All you need to do is make a connection, any connection,

It's easy to say you're on your own with this. Depression fools you into thinking that way, into thinking that you're alone and that you amount to nothing in the great scheme of things. But really you're not. It blinds you into believing this but it's really not the case. You can choose to live this way or you can choose not to, the decision is always yours to make. But by opening yourself up to the people around you can connect with so many people in so many different ways. By taking that first step and being able to talk about it I've been able to listen to other people's stories, to offer support and be able to console, as well discovering other people out there going on their own journeys.  Yes, there is always a risk that people will hurt you. But that is still better than feeling numb, pain is still better than nothing at all. Depression is already causing you hurt. We just need to break free of the isolation it imposes on us. We're all social creatures, we all depend and rely on each other, even when we blindly deny that this is the case.  We're all connected, we're all individual strands that intertwine and mix to create bonds that time and distance have no domain over. And that is why, truly, we're in this together.

As usual, I always end this by saying if you want to talk further you can email me at rustyred666@googlemail.com. Myself and a few others have created a closed support group on Facebook, also called The Order Of The Dog, where you can come and find kindred spirits. Also, please feel free to share this blog and it's page. The more people we can educate the more we can try to help each other.

Cheers,

Scott.

La Mer

Anxiety is such a conundrum and really difficult to understand or even explain

It can be frustrating for the sufferer and anyone around them as it's often causes irrational behaviour and responses. 

I was talking once with a friend who also suffers from anxiety. They were feeling that they couldn't get their partner to understand what anxiety and panic attacks feel like. I said to me it was like having polar opposite feelings at the same time. It was wanting to surround yourself with people whilst wanting to be alone, it was wanting to be hugged whilst not wanting anyone to touch you, it was wanting to laugh when all you wanted to do was cry. It was like feeling every single emotion all at once, all at the same time, and not being able to understand which is the one you need.

Anxiety is like being a rock constantly being worn away by the sea until it finally disappears under the waves. 

Everyone can feel anxious at times, no matter what walk of life you're from. It's natural when you're confronted with something unknown or something you dislike for your body, mind or spirit to be wary and reluctant with it. Anxiety and panic attacks take that and add irrational behaviour into the mix. Like depression they can appear when you least expect them. Sometimes you know when it's going to strike, what triggers it, so you can do something about it and prepare yourself so you can lessen the impact it'll have on you and people around you. 

Other times it just comes, messes with your mind, body and soul and will just leave you in a mess, tired, exhausted and confused with what to do next.

I've suffered with anxiety quite often since my mid teens. It's been more common than depression. It's left me feeling at times like I can't leave the house, that I don't particularly want to face anyone. Last year I started waking up with an anxiety attack as soon as I woke up in a morning. No matter where I was or what I was doing that day it would be there. I was asked was I stressed or worried about anything to which I replied I wasn't. I'm a pretty relaxed, chilled kind of guy. There was no rationale behind it, it was just there. I did notice after a while though that the worse I slept the more likely I was to feel anxious, that it would more likely trigger something off. And even though I'm generally okay they still come and knock me down whenever they feel like it.

Not only that but I'd also suffer other attacks from it through the day. No matter where I was or what I was doing. It could appear at any time. I could be at work, out with my partner, sitting watching TV. It would just be there.

To me they're odd as well as they're pretty much different every time I have one. Generally though they have a few common factors. I get short of breath. Everything feels really ramped up internally. My hands become fidgety and twitchy, often scratching my hands. My jaw clamps really tight until I can feel my cheek muscles ache. There's definitely a flight-or-fight feeling. They can be really hard to come out of. Up until recently I used different techniques to help overcome them. I'd listen to gentle music. I'd go somewhere quiet. I would hide away from people. I'd do deep breathing and relaxation techniques. I'd meditate. Sometimes they'd work, sometimes they wouldn't.

Over the past few months I've started using EFT techniques. I was suggested them by a counsellor who'd started treating me. If you don't know what they are, they're either audio or video tracks and you have to tap on something, sometimes on things, sometimes yourself. You tap along at certain times or certain rhythms whilst you focus on the positive reinforcement message that's being relayed. It sounds bizarre, and I'll admit to being sceptical at first, but they worked for me. I'm hoping to go into them a bit more in a later blog but if you're curious just do a search for EFT on YouTube. There's a LOT of videos on there.

I've also been asked recently if you can have anxiety without being stressed. Yes, you can. Although the two can be strongly linked together they're not mutually exclusive to each other. My anxiety isn't stress related most of the time (although their have been times where it is) and I don't have to be stressed to have an anxiety attack. But I can feel stressed because of an anxiety attack. Obviously that's more linked with guilt that I've let someone down or that I've let this irrational thing take over me.  They don't have to coexist with each other all the time but they can.

With anxiety, it's tough to deal with. I'm open about it as much as I can be around people. I think this helps me as people know that if I suddenly disappear or become unable to do something this is probably the reason why. I'm always mindful when I feel it coming to try and stop it, but sometimes I can't. I think I've become better now with it and hopefully in the future it won't be as often or severe. Only time will tell though.

Again, if you'd like to contact me about this out any of my other blogs drop me a message at rustyred666@googlemail.com and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Also, we've been able to set up a closed support group on Facebook, also called The Order Of The Dog. Just do a search and request to join. It's not just for people who suffer from depression and other mental health issues, but it's there to help support family members of sufferer's or people who just want to educate themselves and get a better understanding. Please feel free to share this blog wherever you want.

Cheers,

Scott.