A Word To The Wise About Antidepressants…

Since June 2017 I’ve been on prescription antidepressants. 

They started me on Sertraline but one of the side effects it gave me was severe night sweats and I couldn’t cope with waking up drenched every morning, so last September, I asked for it to be changed and they gave me Citalopram instead.

More recently, I’ve got worse at remembering to take it every single day so sometimes I’ll forget in the morning and not take it until lunchtime and some days I’ll forget entirely and miss a day. This week I’ve had a right royal memory lapse.

On Monday night, I went to stay at Toby’s new place in Surrey and I know that I didn’t take it the following morning because I forgot to take any with me. I’m pretty certain I haven’t taken it since then but I’m not sure whether I did take it the days before. So the most recent possible time I last took Citalopram was Monday morning, 5 days ago.

On Wednesday, I barely managed to drag myself out of bed but was unsure why I was feeling this way. I hadn’t had a particularly enjoyable Tuesday evening and it had been a late night. Maybe I was just tired? I had to get up because I knew I had packing for uni to get on with. I did very little and what I did manage, was done on the living room floor while binging Suits on the TV. Thursday came and I had a coffee date arranged with a close friend. Had to postpone this by half an hour because I overslept and I actually very nearly cancelled. I probably would have done if it hadn’t been the last opportunity to see her before going back to Brighton. I had a lovely couple of hours though and it really made me feel better.

‘Maybe I just needed to get out of the house,’ I thought. I was wrong.

Today was the worst day. Overslept again and had to really face the music with what was left of my packing because I head back to Brighton tomorrow! I was still feeling low and by this time very anxious about going back to uni (which I have been for a while so not entirely unexpected).

As I was packing up my bedside drawer, I pulled out my Citalopram packet and had the sudden realisation. “Shit. I haven’t taken this in days.” I took one there and then but by this point it was way too late. When I received some disappointing news concerning a family issue about half an hour later, I burst into tears and started to have an anxiety attack. I phoned Toby in a state, crying about how I don’t want to go back to uni, and how awful the other situation is that I’d had an update on. He managed to calm me down enough that I wasn’t sobbing down the phone and when he had to go back to work, I went to bed for a mental rest and a short nap.

Around 5pm, I woke up feeling calmer but exhausted. Mum and I finished my packing and then went to the home of another close friend for a farewell drink.

The point of my telling this long winded tale is that if you are on medication for your mental health, it is SO important to take it regularly and at the recommended dose. As someone who’s training to be a pharmacist, I could have told you that anyway, but living out the consequences of going cold turkey for almost a week is something truly different to learning a fact in vocational training.

If, like me, you take medication to help you live a relatively normal life, please do everything you can to maintain your medication. Set an alarm on your phone (this is what I’ll be doing from now on); ask somebody you trust to remind you; buy a pill box with days of the week on so that you can see when you’ve taken today’s dose; keep spares in your handbag in case you forget before you leave the house. And if you do want to come off your medication – deliberately! – don’t do it without talking to your doctor and/or pharmacist first and seeking advice on whether you need to reduce your dose gradually rather than going cold turkey.

There’s no shame in taking medication for your mental health, just as there’s no shame in taking painkillers for a headache or anticoagulants to prevent a stroke.

Just don’t pull a Hermione and forget about your bloody meds for 5 days!

 

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On 1st October I’ll be announcing an exciting event that I’m going to be a part of. Stay tuned!

Sunny Sunday

After a very long week, I’m glad for a day off in the sunshine!

This week I’ve been travelling to Sturminster Newton for work every day, which for anyone who isn’t local, is about an hour’s drive away from where I live. I don’t mind doing it because I know that the store I’m going to is short-staffed and they need my help, but it does add two hours onto my day (I can normally walk to work in 10 minutes) which for someone who already struggles with tiredness/sleeping/energy is a bit of a shock to the system.

But today is Sunday, it’s my day off and I’m sat in the garden listening to the new Taylor Swift album and basking in the sun! I came out here about 3 hours ago to water the flowers, and I ended up getting carried away. First, I did some weeding in the flower beds that have become overgrown after the rain we’ve had. And then I went full gardener and went on to mow the lawn, cut back the bamboo and tackle an infuriating bindweed that’s been winding its way around everything, including the shed door and the power cable leading to the outside freezer. Now I’m sweaty, grubby and very relaxed!

I’m re-learning some of the things that make me feel good; cooking has been the main thing that I’ve embraced recently, having had to cook for myself when I had the house to myself for a week. Before my family moved into our current house, we had a huge unmanageable garden, and then a flat with no garden at all. When we moved here a year ago I really wanted to make this small, easy-to-care-for garden my little project but it became a bit like going to the gym: in the moment it always seems like a bit too much effort, but then, when I do get round to it, I really enjoy it and feel good afterwards.

Watching the creepy crawlies emerge from the soil while I’m weeding, or concentrating on not tripping over the lawnmower cable, leaves no room in my brain to worry about life things. It’s nice for my head to have some quiet time away from the anxieties that are often buzzing around up there.

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It’ll be an early night tonight ahead of working the bank holiday Monday tomorrow – in Salisbury thankfully!

Happy Bank Holiday Weekend!

Happy Global Running Day!

I just found out that today is Global Running Day! An appropriate day to have completed my first run since last week; 3.52km in 30 minutes.

It’s been just over a week since I went to London and ran in the Vitality London 10,000. I already wrote about how proud I am of myself, but to celebrate Global Running Day today, I want to tell you about some observations I made about myself while I was doing it.

The major one was that rather than becoming tired, having expended my energy, I actually found that the experience, in particular the actual running, got easier as I went along. My total time was 1h22m19s but the timing devices on our shoes also recorded the time at which we crossed the 5km halfway point and it turned out that I completed the second 5km 8 minutes faster than the first 5km!

One factor of this I think is the breaking down of the mental barriers that had got me so nervous. In training I’d be getting tired and sore around 2 or 3 km and I’d think ‘I can’t do it’ and stop. On the day of the 10k though, giving up and going home wasn’t an option. I had to push through whatever I was feeling and just get on with it. Doing that, and finishing the race gave me the proof that actually – I can do it!

Another observation which was slightly less positive was that my ankles were BURNING. That’s part of what I had to push through and fortunately that got more bearable and less severe as I went along. I ran from the start line and the first time I felt like I had to slow down and walk was because my ankles were hurting. But as soon as I slowed down, they hurt even more! That was a pretty unpleasant conundrum. I’ve been to see a sports physio who suggested that the burning pain may be some irritation/inflammation of the tendons around my ankle joints. I need to take it easy until I’ve had that investigated a little further I think, because I was told that that type of irritation can increase the chances of stress fractures. But I’m not going to stop running and I’m going to aim to run 5k regularly now as part of a general exercise routine.

This newfound ability to run makes me feel like a kid with a new toy!

I Did It!

10 weeks ago I decided to take on the challenge of running 10 kilometres in the Vitality London 10,000.

In that time I’ve been through a range of thought processes from ‘Hell yeah I can run 10k’ to ‘Running is actually quite hard’ to ‘It’s okay, I’ve still got time to pull it back’ to ‘Crap, it’s in 2 weeks and I’ve barely run more than 3km’.

I stopped writing so much about it as the event got closer ’cause I became really scared that I wouldn’t be able to do it and I knew I hadn’t trained as much as I thought I would. This was down to a range of reasons including bad mental health days, family members in hospital and stressing about uni exams.

At the beginning of the process I felt really confident and was running in the gym every couple of days. Then I took my training outside and realised that running on the road is way more impactful on my ankles than running on a treadmill. Before Monday, I hadn’t run more than about 3km in one go.

And yet, I completed my first 10k in 1 hour, 22 minutes and 19 seconds! When I crossed the finish line I was so bloody chuffed with myself and two days later I actually still can’t quite believe I did a 10k!

I need to shout out my amazing boyfriend, Toby, for coming with me and waiting for me at the 8.5km mark to spur me on for that last stretch! I ran with my phone in my hand so that I could listen to music and he kept sending me encouraging messages along the lines of ‘Keep going! You can do it!’.

I intend to keep training and keep running, so it probably won’t be too long before I’m doing another 10k! I’ll let you know!

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May 12th – Storms

I do not like rain.

This is something that my boyfriend and I disagree on. If we’re out in the rain, I’ll inevitably whinge about it, and he’ll inevitably question why I hate it so much.

He loves rain. But there is one element of it that we can agree on and that is that the sound of it on the roof or the windows, when you’re snuggled up in your pyjamas with nothing to do and no where to go, can be calming and soothing. It makes me feel cosy too, knowing that it’s gross outside but I’m all warm and comfy inside.

I know a lot of people who are scared of thunderstorms. But I’ve always loved them and been fascinated by them (again, from within the comfort of my house with four walls!). In my old home, my bedroom had a window seat, and if there was a thunderstorm, it wouldn’t matter what time of the night it was, I would get out of bed and sit on the window seat to watch the lightning strikes and listen to the rain and thunder. I just think there’s something so beautiful about it.

Last year, when I was in Australia, I was near a town called Broome, on the North West Coast and I was there during wet season. The night I was there, the most fantastic electrical storm was occurring and I couldn’t take my eyes off it. It actually started as I was driving into the town and I sat in the car for ages, just in awe. For once, I didn’t try to take pictures that would inevitably turn out like crap, I just sat there and enjoyed the moment because I think it was the most incredible thunderstorm I’ve ever seen.

This has been a little bit of a rambling post but my point is, I don’t like being in the rain, but I do like watching thunderstorms. Fin.

New Plan!

Since the 3rd day of ‘May, Myself and I’, life has thrown a whole bunch of crap my way. And here we are a week later and I haven’t managed to write a single other blog post! *sigh*

I haven’t even actually had time to watch Carrie Hope Fletcher’s M,M&I videos on YouTube. I’m not giving up completely cause I do like the prompts and it’s interesting and challenging to write about something that hasn’t come from within my own head. To let someone else go ‘what’s your take on this?’ rather than going ‘what do I feel like talking about today?’.

I don’t quite know how I’m going to proceed though. I’m thinking maybe I’ll aim for 4 blog posts a week and pick and choose the prompts I want to do. That makes it a bit more manageable than 7 a week while also trying to juggle revision, running, work, family stuff and my own mental health.

Tomorrow’s prompt is Storms and I’m going to give that one a go as soon as I’ve published this. Wish me luck!

May 3rd – Donut

This is going to be a Brighton appreciation post.

As most people who know me personally will know, I moved to Brighton (UK) in September 2018 to start my degree in Pharmacy at the University of Brighton. As soon as I discovered that Brighton Uni offered the course I wanted to study (MPharm with Integrated Foundation Year), I knew it would be my first choice uni.

My Mum was born in Brighton and although she later lived in Essex before flying the nest, both my Grandparents ended up moving back here which means I’ve been to Brighton a few times a year ever since I was a child. I’ve heard people say that it’s like London but friendlier. I can’t get on board with that description because I don’t see any resemblance to London in it at all. That may be because Brighton holds a lot of unique childhood memories for me though. One of which is going down to the pier and getting fresh, hot donuts (there’s that prompt!) with my Mum and whoever else we happened to be with on the day. Wandering through The Lanes and along the seafront are classic Brighton things for anyone but for me there was my Mum’s favourite restaurant, Terre A Terre, family dinners in the fish and chip restaurant at the Marina (which unfortunately no longer exists) and getting to push my Nan’s wheelchair when I was a bit older which I loved because it made me feel helpful and grown up.

The house I’ve ended up living in this year happens to be across the road from the cemetery where my Nan and my Great Aunty’s souls are resting. I’ve been thinking about my Nanny a lot recently; she passed away in 2010 and although I was relatively young at the time, I still have vivid memories of some of the time she spent in the Hospice. She would have been 80 this July. She was a wonderful, selfless woman who had been dealt a pretty tough hand in life but who never in my lifetime complained or felt sorry for herself. I think her grandchildren were the light of her life. She’s been gone for almost half of my life but I still love being in Brighton and feeling close to her, knowing she’d be so proud of what I’m doing and so happy to have me nearby if she was still alive.

This post is intended to be thoughtful rather than maudlin. I know it seems a little sad but as soon as the prompt word ‘donut’ came up, it made me think of hot donuts on Brighton Pier and all the memories associated with that.

Oddly enough, I don’t find myself on the pier all that often (something I need to rectify!), but when I do, I always make sure to get a hot donut for old time’s sake. It’s important to live in the present and to look forward to the future, but sometimes remembering the past, in the people in it, can be a joyful and uplifting experience.

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Me and my Mummy on Brighton’s Palace Pier, 12th March 2017