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Mental health and wellbeing

Loss, Mental health and wellbeing

Five years later

I feel as though I’ve lost my voice online over the last couple of years. I imagine it is as a result of many things, but certainly the passing of time has changed the urgency and fervency to talk about my grief.

Five years on and life is of course so very different to those early weeks after Orla died. We are different people. The world has changed in ways that we could never have imagined. We have left our home in London where both our children were born and made a new life for ourselves on the South Coast. So much has shifted.

Three years back at work has also altered things for me online. I no longer have the time or resource to plough into blogging or fundraising, but I am also so much more concerned with what I put out into the world. Those early months were on pure ‘fuck it’ mode. I didn’t care what I wrote or who read it, I just needed to let out the excruciating pain and loneliness that was consuming me. I found a voice and a confidence that I hadn’t really had before, and I let rip. But now I stumble over almost everything I go to post and worry about where my voice now fits.

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May 17, 2021 by
Mental health and wellbeing, Uncategorised

When the plan doesn’t go to plan

Time in 2020 has felt like elastic to me: the long uncertain months that stretched out ahead of us in March have suddenly snapped and catapulted us forward to autumn. So much has happened for us and despite the long weeks of lockdown and significant lack of social activities, I just haven’t had the time (or probably more importantly, mental capacity) to reflect on it.

I’ll rewind a bit. Back in November last year, we were so excited to take on our own premises, which we converted into a beautiful, safe and welcoming therapy space. This building marked a growth in our venture as a small family business, but it really was so much more than that. It was something that Andy and I nurtured together, something that we brought to life and birthed into the world with pride and excitement. The therapy rooms gave me a place I could call my work home, somewhere that finally provided a place of containment and consistency after years of not even having my own desk in the NHS. But they also represented the start of a hub for other therapists and clients to use as well as a place to develop social projects.

The building was the start of something really meaningful. It was a huge personal, financial and emotional investment for us, but we were confident that we could make it work, and we did. Demand was high and within just a few weeks, every single room had multiple bookings each day. The hum of people coming to and leaving their appointments and commenting on the beauty of the space made us so proud. 

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September 21, 2020 by
Mental health and wellbeing

From The Other Chair

It’s been such a long time since I’ve blogged, that I feel a little unsure of where to start. 2019 has been a year of huge change both professionally and personally, leaving little to no time to nurture my little corner of the internet. Start-up life is inevitably a rollercoaster of emotions and a huge pull on your time (more than I ever anticipated).  But I am so glad we took the plunge despite the long days and late nights.  It has always been about trying to make work workfor us as a family, and whilst at times the balance can feel a little off kilter, I think this is all part of building your own enterprise.

For the first time since we lost Orla, I am also well and truly back in the therapist’s chair. As a senior psychologist and manager in the NHS, most of my role involved indirect clinical work, so my time providing therapy was limited and precious. You use just as many, if not more, clinical skills in these roles, but therapy is indeed a very unique experience.  And right now, I am doing lots of, which feels really good.

Throughout recent months though, I have been experiencing a growing sense of internal unease about my life online and that in the real world. When Orla died, setting up the blog was in some ways an act of ‘screw you universe!’ – the rules of extreme privacy within the profession that had occupied all of my twenties and half of my thirties suddenly became meaningless. I needed people to know what had happened, to validate my experience and to desperately find a community of support that I didn’t have in real life. I couldn’t really reconcile with what this meant for my career because in those early weeks and months, I honestly didn’t see how I would ever be able to return to work. 

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August 27, 2019 by
Mental health and wellbeing

Maternal Mental Health Matters…..even when your baby died

‘No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep on swallowing.

At other times it feels like being mildly drunk, or concussed. There is a sort of invisible blanket between the world and me. I find it hard to take in what anyone says. Or perhaps, hard to want to take it in. It is so uninteresting. Yet I want the others to be about me. I dread the moments when the house is empty. If only they would talk to one another and not to me.’

C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

Loss and mental health is something that people often ask me about: how does it impact? What help is available? Does it get better? I’ve researched academic articles and reflected on my own work and personal experiences and all I can say reliably is yes it does. But as with everything in life after loss, it is complex and completely individual.

Grief in itself is not a mental health problem (i.e. a diagnosable one) yet it impacts on our mental wellbeing considerably. It is a normal reaction to a painful, sometimes traumatic, event. A response that reflects the loss of someone or something meaningful. Someone we loved. Someone we will miss infinitely. We wouldn’t want to pathologise what is part of the human condition; to label it and to find ways in which to eradicate it. Grief is part of life and living as much as it is a response to death and dying.
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May 1, 2018 by
Mental health and wellbeing

Me, thee and PND

“I think you’re depressed”

The words that still ring through my ears when I think about the day that the perinatal mental health nurse turned up at my door.  It had been a difficult morning; baby refusing to sleep, pacing the house wearing the sling.  Much like many of the days that had preceded really.  I was tired. Emotionally more than physically, although my body had certainly been through the mill too.

It’s something that I still struggle to accept sometimes, and something that I have fought hard to overcome.  But I think that this term – depression – has gradually become more of a friend than a foe. Although deep in my heart, I knew that this was what was going on, hearing the word spoken out loud and directed at mestung.  A verbal slap in the face.  I denied it could be true.  I tried to argue that I was just stressed.  But when I struggled to answer one of her questions, I realised that this was why I felt so heavy and why each day had become like I was wading through treacle.

I felt stupid: ‘How could I not have known?’  I felt ashamed: ‘Why couldn’t I prevent this?’  I felt guilty: ‘What kind of mother – what kind of person – are you to become depressed now, when your arms are full?’
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April 30, 2018 by