Progress

Today I went to see a new GP at a new GP surgery. He asked me questions about overdoses and self-harm and all the standard things you get asked when requesting anti-depressants from someone new. And it was seriously joyful to say I haven’t overdosed since November, haven’t had thoughts of doing so for at least 2 months and haven’t self-harmed since February.

I’ve spent a lot of time with friends recently reflecting on how far I’ve come in 18 months but actually I think it’s really been the last 4 months in which the biggest changes have occurred. I’ve been struggling to take credit for this. My friends have been crucial, the pastors at church have been vital and God has given me unreal strength to do this. But I had to take the first step.

I vowed in November that I’d never take another overdose and spent the rest of that evening and the next day crying because I was suddenly so desperate. You know the whole idea of a child so desperately wanting the thing they can’t have then having a tantrum? That was me. However at the same time, I was 24 and living alone miles away from friends; what was stopping me?  Unbelievable willpower because I’d made that vow and didn’t want to let others down.

In February, at my Complex Needs final assessment, the therapist said “in group we’ll work towards stopping you self-harming”. Self-harm was my “secret”, if there’s one thing I’ve felt ashamed about being unwell over the last 10 years, it’s the huge hold self-harm had over my life. I had no intention of ever discussing it in a group. How could I sit there and say “I deserve the pain, but I no longer know why” and “healed scars make me want new open cuts”? After that appointment, I told myself that the night before would be the last time I ever hurt myself. 121 days later and I’m still going. The urges appear once in a while, but I know I’ll never go back.

In this time, I have quit work due to bullying, gone through multiple interviews for an internship at my church and said goodbye to two good friends who are moving away. And I haven’t slipped once. My previous go-to method to cope with changes was to overdose, especially if involved saying goodbye to people. If I try to kill myself, they won’t leave, right? Last week that thought didn’t even cross my mind.

But actually what really made me consider my progress was the fact that I registered with a GP surgery and saw a doctor within 3 weeks of moving to this area. This time last year, it took over 3 months for me to even register, let alone see a GP. The fear of admitting to someone new that I was weak, vulnerable, needed medication was overwhelming. This time I knew I needed to stay stable. This time I knew medication is vital to keep me going. This time I want to keep myself well, to not slip back in to old habits, to keep fighting.

This battle hasn’t been easy in the slightest. I don’t win about 5% of the time, but 95% of the time I do. Day after day I wake up and have to choose again to fight. I have to choose to follow Jesus and not take an easier route. I have to choose life every single day. But it’s worth it: to have amazing memories; to have wonderful friends who well up when you tell them milestones; to have certainty that whatever happens God has a plan; to know that you aren’t alone in the fight; to live, because living is what we were created for.

This day I call the heavens and the earth as witnesses against you that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live and that you may love the Lord your God, listen to his voice, and hold fast to him. For the Lord is your life, and he will give you many years in the land he swore to give to your fathers, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.

Deuteronomy 30 v19-20

Home

I'm sat on my bed, snuggled in my duvet, listening to worship music, and surveying the chaos that my bedroom has become. There is stuff EVERYWHERE. You see, at the end of this week I'm moving house. However I'm not moving house in the conventional sense. I am about to become homeless.

Since leaving my job in March, I haven't been working. To begin with I simply was not well enough. I'm not convinced I'm 100% well enough to be back at work full time or in a high stress environment so have been filling my time with volunteering. Unfortunately volunteering does not bring in an income and because I left my job willingly, I have not been able to claim any benefits. In addition, I thought I'd check out if I would be entitled to housing benefit- because something is better than nothing, right? As has been the story of my life- I am entitled to the bare minimum of housing benefits. £17 a week. Joy! It's similar to the NHS trying to tell me my bursary at uni was £96 a month when my rent was £119 A WEEK.

So yes, I'm moving out of my beautiful house and on to the sofa bed of a dear friend of mine. I have been utterly blessed to have her in my life and I just cannot fathom how much more challenging this would be without her!

Anyway, I should probably get to the point of why I'm typing this. Home. What makes us call somewhere "home"? Yes, I have somewhere to live. Yes, I could live back with my parents. Would I call those places home? Probably not, other than out of habit.

There are lots of cheesy statements relating to what makes a house a home. I don't have to scroll very far down my Instagram or Pinterest feeds to find examples of these. I'm not however sure that I agree with them though. Currently my house is decorated in a very "me" way. While I cannot paint the walls, I have fairy lights hanging, pictures, cute little decorations and Bible verses everywhere. Things that people look at and think "Becca lives here". I don't think, however, that me living in this house, makes it my home. I am taking everything with me- I can put all these things around elsewhere to show people where I live, that doesn't mean I feel at home.

A friend recently went back to her home town for a family wedding. She's very against moving back there when her visa here runs out, but knows she would be able to tolerate it purely because she is surrounded by people who love her, as she is here also. I am inclined to agree. It isn't the building. It isn't the decorations. It's the people who make home feel like home. I know moving back in with my parents won't feel like home. I have 3 very wonderful friends there and I have family there but it's not the same. Here, in this county, I have a support system, I have a church family, I have the best friends and it's familiar. I've lived around here almost 5 years now. The longest I've stayed in one area by choice. I remember walking in to my church back at the end of August 2013 and feeling an overwhelming sense of belonging. No matter how I'm feeling, church is a safe place. It's familiar. It's comforting. I belong.

While I am moving house, I am certainly not leaving home. I will not be homeless, but houseless. My home surrounds me because of the love that is poured out from all the aforementioned sources. It isn't going to be easy not officially having a house, but I know wherever I go, I'll be able to find home. And for that I am thankful.

Wednesday Afternoon Ramblings- Patience

In 2 weeks and 3 days I will be homeless. Depending on the time of day and who I'm speaking to depends on how I'm feeling about this, it flips between terrified and excited. Whatever I'm feeling, it is a MASSIVE trust exercise for me. 

God provides for all our needs. Ask and you will receive. Trust God. There are countless verses to tell you those things. There are countless times a week my friends and acquaintances tell me these things. If I were to tell you I am 100% convinced that God will provide me with somewhere in Oxfordshire to live rent-free in the next 2 weeks for as long as I need I would be lying. Most of the time, this is my belief, but sometimes I doubt. And that's ok. Matthew 28:17 says "When they saw Him, they worshipped Him; but some doubted". Despite worshipping Jesus, some still doubted that he was the Messiah. And while I don't doubt Jesus is Lord, I do sometimes worry that He won't provide because I am some obscure exception; I've screwed up so much of my life, why would God provide for me this time? 

What I really need to remember is that, while I'm freaking out worrying that I will be sofa-surfing for the foreseeable future, God is waiting for the right time to show the next step of His plan to me. My timing and His doesn't line up. I'm impatient, and always have been. I want things sorted yesterday. God gives just as the need presents. Same for my employment circumstances. Someone told me today you have to push one door at a time to see what opens. And she's right. If more than one door opened, how difficult would that decision be? How easily I could be led down the wrong path. 

The world rushes past. We live in such a driven society where everything must be available at the click of a button. We no longer have to wait for anything we want, even when we don't need it. I know the more I immerse myself in that world, the faster my mental health declines. I become too driven and perfectionist. But take me out of that world, let me do things at the pace that is right for me, where I wait for God to provide; everything is easier. I'm not chasing after false idols. I'm focused on God because there's no other way to do it. The more I'm worrying about housing and employment, the more entangled I get in the mess that is my mind.

Live in the moment. Wait on God. 

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures. 

He leads me beside still waters.

He restores my soul. 

He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

Psalm 23:1-3

What the darkness feels like...

This week is Mental Health Awareness Week and I felt like I needed to blog on this topic. It's a challenge as I'm just coming out of two very dark weeks in which relapse seems guaranteed. Thankfully that isn't the case and I'm fighting on. This is the first time in so long that I have managed to maintain the determination to want to get better even when I had no energy to fight the thoughts.

I figured it would be good to document what depression really feels like for me on a day when I have to do something. If nothing else, it'll remind me when I'm doing ok, just what was going through my head before and how much better it is now.

Alarm goes off. Wake up. The world is a haze. Imagine you went out drinking last night. You have no recollection of the evening and your head feels thick. You might have a headache. Sitting up will feel impossible so you lie there. You drift back off to sleep. Another alarm goes off. You prepared because falling asleep again is so common. The haze is a little less this time. Maybe, just maybe, you can roll over. You lie there. What are you going to wear today? It won't be what you optimistically laid out last night. You'll hate yourself in that. And the other outfits you think of. You choose the lesser of the evils. A final alarm goes off. The one that tells you you have absolutely no more time to lie in bed. You fall out of bed and head towards the clothes you've decided on. If you're lucky, you'll find the socks and pants you have for seriously bad days. It'll make the rest of getting dressed easier. You'll probably put something on backwards/inside out. You'll realise around lunch time. As soon as the last item of clothing is on, you'll run down the stairs and out the door. It won't be until you'll driving you realise you forgot to pee, brush your teeth, put on deodorant and brush your hair, let alone eat breakfast. You have gum and a hairbrush in the car so you can half solve two of those issues.

Depending on where you're going depends on the next bit. You get to your destination and power walk from the car, because you cannot deal with being evena second late. If it's people you trust, you'll tell them honestly today is a bad day and try and keep your head down. If it's therapy, you'll lie or skirt around the truth. You make polite conversation that you won't remember in 20 minutes. If it's people that know you well, you may permit them to hug you. You'll only cry if they ask you a question. Finally you'll remember you need to pee. You'll body check in all the mirrors, before and after, just in case your body has changed. At lunch time you'll wander round the supermarkets- you need to find lunch. You're taking forever because decisions are hard. You'll settle on a bag of popcorn and a pastry. You're desperate to have a bottle of juice- especially orange. You'll ignore the fact you're allergic to it, just so you have an excuse to feel bad later. Grab a coffee. Give in to the cakes on the counter. Somehow almost 2 hours pass. You have no idea what happened in that time. Maybe you'll remember after your last sip you forgot to take your meds this morning- the app only reminds you for so many hours.

When all activities for the day are done, you go home. PJs are the first thing. Once you get up the stairs. You can lay on the stairs for up to an hour. Lying there feels safe and you're grounded. Moving makes your brain fog increase. Eventually PJs will be put on- if it's a mega bad day, then you get to wear clean PJs. You might go back downstairs and pretend to watch TV. IT's safest to watch a DVD as you can rewatch when you're feeling better. Eventually you'll think maybe dinner is an idea. You can reach the freezer and the oven from the sofa. If that's too hard, you'll eat toast off of kitchen roll. The thought of washing up hurts your brain. You may have to text a worried friend. If they're really worried, they'll suggest you stay at theirs or they invade your house for the evening. You'll secretly be thankful but it's just too much energy.

Eventually you'll go to bed. Brushing your teeth won't happen. You put on some music in the hope you can get lost in it. Sometimes you'll fall asleep fast. Sometimes it can take hours. If it's a good night, you'll fall asleep and won't dream. On other nights you'll have vivid bad dreams that leave you disorientated the next morning.

The entire day your brain will berate you. Your negative thoughts will overpower every useful idea. You'll be too tired to fight the negativity. All day there will be a battle raging, which will lead to more berating of yourself because you're having stupid thoughts.

But you get up and do it all again the next day. Because that is what everyone expects of you.

How Becca copes with disappointment...

Yesterday afternoon I had an email telling me that I am not able to go back to camp this summer. I am not 6 months medication-free and they do not have enough returner visas that it is unlikely that I will get one therefore they have terminated my application. These reasons are frustrating- they would have known both these things 3 weeks ago and yet made me collect a ton of evidence to say I'm well enough and dragged it out this long to still tell me that I can't go because of things they knew about when I submitted my application.

Mere months ago I would have cried as I read the email and for hours after, hit my self destruct button and done everything in my power to punish myself/prove I obviously am not well enough. I wouldn't shower for days because I don't deserve the self care. I probably would have stopped taking my medication because it "wasn't working" and would land myself back seeing my GP begging for a CMHT referral.

Yesterday I held it together in the Parish Centre when I read the email. Went and sat in a coffee shop, my friend arrived and I cried for all of 5 minutes. Then I went and had dinner with friends, told them I couldn't get a visa in time without crying, and genuinely enjoyed time with amazing people. I cried a bit at the church prayer meeting. Then I came home and slept like a baby.

Today I have moped and binge watched Gilmore Girls. I have eaten normally, left the house to get a coffee, and had a perfectly rational conversation with my mother on the phone. I have also finally got back in to my Bible study. I'm planning to wash my hair tonight.

Tomorrow I will spend my day tidying, sorting laundry and then going for cocktails with friends in the evening. I have to be sensible and not drink too much because I'm pretty sure it'll make me feel awful on Saturday but I'm prepared for that.

And next week will continue as normal. Because this wasn't part of God's plan for me. There are better things in store for the summer- concerts with friends, weekends away, random job opportunities, volunteering, happiness.


Many are the plans in a person's heart, 
but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails.

Proverbs 21:19

Moving forward

About a year ago I went to the late service at my church. I was a mess. I sat shaking the entire service, knowing that I was only there because I wasn't safe to go home. At one point, a woman said she had had a picture of someone being sat in a cell. The door was wide open but they didn't leave. They continued to sit there. It struck me that night, that that image was for me. I was sat in that cell. I knew that the door was open. I knew I could recover and yet there I was sat waiting for someone to pull me out of that cell. That was the first night I'd told anyone at church that I was suicidal and let them pray for me. I wanted everything to stop.

Last June I was baptised and someone prayed for me after and said the shackle had been opened but I had to take the step. I've prayed in to that image many times but still, the foot stayed.

I don't even know what I was praying about tonight in church but suddenly an image appeared in my head. There was an open shackle and several feet away was myself, walking away from that shackle. Tonight I finally knew freedom. I know that it doesn't mean the troubles are over. I know that I could easily turn around and run back to what I know to be safe. But right now I'm moving forward. I'm praying that I leave that awful chain behind. Recovery is happening. I am stronger and more determined and I will keep going. With God's strength, I can win.


He brought them out of the darkness, the utter darkness, and broke away their chains. 

Psalm 107:14

Lent Experiments

The season of Lent has always been about fasting- I spent most of my childhood giving up chocolate or meat and being all "I do it because Jesus fasted for 40 days in the desert".

This year Lent took on a different meaning for me. Yes, I gave up buying coffee from chain coffee shops (yes I survived Lent with no Starbucks!) but this year I had different reasons. I want to be more conscious of where my money goes. Not necessarily in the sense of how much I'm spending (although I do need to reign that in) but actually why am I spending money in places that evade taxes and ignoring the local businesses that are much more ethically minded?

I won't lie- I have never cared previously about where things have come from and whether workers are treated fairly. I don't buy only fair trade, I buy things regardless of whether it is local produce or not, I still fly places. But I want that to change. I want to be more aware of what I'm supporting, good and bad, and try to minimise the unethical behaviours I am funding. While I may not be passionate about it, I know I need to change and I want to. I am a privileged white girl living in a first world country but that doesn't mean I should flaunt my background- everyone deserves a chance at a good quality of life and if I can do a little bit to make a difference I will. God gave us this earth to look after and I need to do my bit.

I was part of a community carrying out experiments of discipleship over the Lent period this year. We chose three goals, relating to different parts of our lives in which to change things. We didn't necessarily do the same things, nor did we all give up things.

I took up turning my phone off when I was around friends. I need to be more present in life and not live through technology. This was largely successful however I realised just who I feel safe around and who the anxiety is too great around and in those situations I at least wasn't holding on to my phone the entire time, but it was switched on *just in case*. It's hard, but I'm getting there. I would like to develop this in to only accessing the internet for 3 hours a day. It will take some work, but I will get there.

I also tried to regulate my sleep cycle so I get up in the mornings and follow the structure of my day. This hasn't really worked in any way. Taking meds, not taking meds, lying in bed endlessly for hours,  making sure I exercise in the day; nothing has enabled me to sleep at a similar time every night. I need to work on this as I cannot continue with such an obscure sleeping pattern. I also really want to get up early enough to read my Bible every morning. I will get there. It just takes a bit longer than Lent!

I must say though, having a group of us holding each other accountable has really helped! I always had in my mind that accountability groups were for people who had really bad issues and needed help turning away from them but actually they work for the day to day things too!

I'm going to set goals more frequently, and make sure I have other people supporting me when doing so. I will change things and I will get back in to a positive mind frame because other things fall in to place.

I'm so thankful for opportunities like this that remind me that no-one has the perfect life and we can all strive to make changes and it is ok to fail or not get there as quickly as expected. It's ok. It's trying that is important.