Feeling grateful…

I actually wrote this post at the beginning of February as a gratitude list but life has been hectic to say the least so here it is like a month behind of when I wanted but ah well.

So at the start of the year I decide that I was going to bullet journal more often (which I have totally kept up with naaaaat) the whole purpose of it was so that I could track my anxiety a little better, anything that triggered it and how I can put things in place to help. More importantly I would have my “yay of the day” list where I have to write about something good that happens each day or that I’m grateful for.

I thought I would update you on some of the things that have been happening and what I would have wrote in my “2yay of the day” had a actually 5 minutes to spare haha.

So probably one of the biggest changes that has happened is that I got a promotion at work, I am now officially a Lead Adviser. I was soooooo nervous for the interview, I had to prepare an interview and then the usual interview questions. Luckily all the managers at work were really supportive and helped with keeping me calm. So now I am on like a development plan which I need to complete in 3 months. I have really thrown myself into it to try and get a lot of it complete. I have also started my Level 4 NVQ in Careers Information Advice and Guidance, so I have assignments like every other week. I have lists everywhere in an attempt to stay organised. But its all good stuff and I keep putting myself out there for more things (possible updates on that front to come…just don’t want to jinx anything)

Another big thing that has been happening is that I have been going to therapy, for my anxiety and depression. I am not going to lie I have been really struggling with therapy, it is difficult opening up about these things, and then having to deconstruct your behaviours and become more “flexible” in the way you live. Sometimes I feel like it helps but then usually the hours and day following therapy I feel like it is more of a hinderance, everything is really raw and sitting on the surface. I have got a post about my second session, it’s all about a Parrot.

So aside from busting my butt at work, when me and Jean do get a day off together, we try to make the most of it, we have gone on a few little adventures. We went to the Cat and Dog Shelter, how we managed to leave without smuggling all the animals out of there I will never know. There was this beautiful Siberian Husky called Duke!!! OMG he licked my hand and I was ready to bust up out of there and have him curl up on the bed of a night time. We took a little trip to North Shields, so I could take jean to Ocean’s for fish and chips. My family and I would always go here on my birthday so it was really nice to go and show him all the little places we used to go.

It is super mushy, but I am really grateful for Jean. He is so supportive, he puts up with me crying at everything (he kindly reminded me of a time where I cried about dropping chocolate sauce on the bench which I had just cleaned) I have recently been having really bad night terrors, and he just wakes me up and calms me down. He is just a good egg.

My family; I’m so grateful to have them. My Dad and Eilis are my rocks; I genuinely have no clue what I would do without them. They will let me scream, rant, ugly cry down the phone when I am frustrated and upset. Eilis will help me stay productive when I am in the house on my own, we will plan “girls on tour” which just needs to hurry up and happen. My Dad will talk to me and just drop these little pearls of wisdom; that will make me feel more grounded and less like the world is falling apart.

I am grateful, for all of my friends. I am a really shitty friends sometimes because of my anxiety; I am flakey and just want to curl up, sleep for an age. So thank you to all of your for reminding me that I am doing a good job at work when I am doubting myself, making me laugh with your hilarious stories, the cups of coffee and timeouts.

I am grateful for garlic bread, crackers, sleep, zoflora and the box of family circle biscuits that is sat next to me.

Hope you are all doing well.

Love

Ellen xxx

Confessions of an Anxious “Drama” Queen. My Counselling Journey

I have started writing this post like 3 times over the past few days. I have a little life update that is scheduled for a couple of days time just rather then waffling on in this post, you can see what I have been doing with my life for the past couple of weeks.

In one of my blog posts last year I mentioned that I had put in a self-referral for counselling through my local Talking Therapies. So after about a month of being on the waiting list I had my first session last week.

I thought I would document the process and stuff that we are covering, just so people can actually see what it entails. This is not the first time I have accessed counselling, the last two times I was referred by my GP. I have always been an advocate of seeing someone outside of your situation to talk about any issues and concerns…but at the same time totally hesitant about following through on the process.

So I think I self referred towards the end of November, I was really struggling with my anxiety, depression and low self-esteem following the surgery. I think being stuck in the house, staring at the 4 walls really did a number on me.

About 2 weeks ago, I got a call to schedule my first session with my Counsellor, she was very nice on the phone and explained that a few days before my sessions I would have some questionnaires to fill out to assess my mood, feelings of anxiety, depression, phobias etc. I am quite familiar with the questionnaires as I studied Psychology at university and having gone through the counselling process before I kind of had an idea of what to expect.

Tuesday came…I was at work, I had asked to leave early so I could find the place with plenty of time because I was already flapping about going, I didn’t need to add more anxiety about getting lost or being late.

In true Nervousnelle fashion I was like 20 minutes early. I was told my counsellor would come and get me from the waiting room when she was ready for me. I don’t know what I expected it to look like but it just felt like a doctors waiting room. They did have the TV on and there was a programme about Alpacas on so I lost myself in that for a while.

Then out came my counsellor, I am not going to name her on here, I will give her a pseudonym…ooo how allusive…we shall call her Barbara.

Barbara took me into her consulting room, again it felt very clinical; not as homey or comforting as I had hoped for. We went through the introduction to the service, the confidentiality policy and general information about the sessions would work.

We started to address the information that I put in my self referral form, why I was seeking counselling, my goals for therapy. Then came the inevitable flood of emotions!

I think I cried for at least 40 minutes of my 45 appointment! I just started blubbering about all of the various things I was anxious about, scared of losing and how I was sick of living in this constant state of worry.

Barbara was very nice about my crying for literally all of the appointment, and we clarified how we would go about working through the things I had brought up. We talked about how Generalised Anxiety Disorder and worrying in general, is a fear and intolerance of uncertainty.

She gave me some reading around the “intolerance of uncertainty”, which after reading ended up across the room in a crumpled mess, as I completely and utterly disagreed with a particular explanation about how someone with GAD or anxiety “dramatises” a situation.

This infuriated me! It makes it sound like I voluntarily think like this, and I am just being over dramatic about a situation. Yes I just love sitting for hours over thinking a situation, worrying myself to the point of shaking, hyperventilating and throwing up. I just love it. Fuck that Barbara.

I am well aware she didn’t write the article, but the materials are meant to be non- judgemental, and its a bit presumptuous. That because my way of processing a situation is different, that’s me being a drama queen.

Anyway, the article suggest that in order to help overcome this intolerance; you need to expose yourself to situations where you would feel anxious, and put one action into place that may help overcome that intolerance of uncertainty.  At this point, I am pretty sceptical of anything this article says, but I’ll try anything.

So one of my big things, is that I constantly seek reassurance, that can be with Jean, my friends or family. I decided that this would be the one I would tackle. I tried not to right “Love you” on the end of every message, purely because when someone says it back it puts the anxiety at bay for a while.

I tried to relinquish control in other areas as well, which was ok. The world didn’t end but it got to a point in the evening, where I was anxious about not being anxious! Typical really.

I am still nervous about the therapy process but I am going to keep going with it because I really want to work on it not having as much control over me.

Part 2 coming soon xxxx

Hello 2019

It is that time of the year where we get all pensive and reflect on the last year. 2018 has been difficult at times but I have had some of the best moments as well. The start of the year saw me in a relationship which at the time felt like it was going to last forever, and I thought I was happy. Turns out I was wrong on both counts. It took the breakdown of that relationship for me to realise how poorly being with that person was making me. My anxiety was at an all-time high and because of the way it ended it was really going to knock my confidence and self-esteem.

But then came the months following that where I started to piece myself back together and became the “old” me, I started taking care of myself again, I chopped my hair, eating properly, and being less self-deprecating than usual. It sounds silly, but I started taking more selfies because I was happy with the person that was looking back at me. She was sassy and confident and wasn’t blaming herself for the relationship ending.

I went to see 30 Seconds to Mars with my “work sister” Kennedy, who is just the sweetest gem. It was a bit of an odd setting for the gig; a car park on the Quayside, but nonetheless Jared Leto was a beauty to behold.

At some point in Mayish I decided that I wanted to get back out there in the world of “dating” then came the hellish task of swiping through the creeps and sifting through the Dickbags, which seemed to inundate Tinder.

Then one morning, I got a message from Jean with a really hilarious Dad joke in…I was adamant to not jump in with both feet, guard my heart so that I wouldn’t get hurt. Towards the end of June, we went on our first date. He turned up with my favourite flowers and chocolates. I literally saw him and mentally said “oh no” not in bad way. It just felt right, and it all fit into place. Our date was cut short and he was so understanding. I think I knew then really, and it sounds daft.

He was living in Middlesbrough at the time, so he would come up and see me as often as he could. I’m not saying the start of our relationship was all sunshine and roses because we have really fought to stay together despite everything that was thrown our way. I think that has made us stronger (despite me having my nervousnelle moments) because we have chosen to be together in spite of all the things that were trying to pull us apart. We were both looking for new places to live at the time, so we thought balls to it, lets move into together. We found our little flat and I am honestly so happy. He has met all my family, and they love him. I feel completely different with him then I have with anyone. He just gets it. I don’t have to pretend with him. I still have those self-sabotaging moments where because of things in the past I am convinced that he would rather be with anyone else than me. Where “nervousnelle” works her way in and tries to ruin everything. But he is the sweetest and best egg ever.

In between all the stresses of moving, I left my job. I had been there 6 years. I was terrified of going somewhere new. I honestly never thought I would do it but somehow I did. I mean it stayed pretty much until the shop shut that day even though I finished earlier. I just couldn’t bare to walk out. I still go see the girls when I can because at one point I saw them more than my own family.

I got to go see Wicked again!!! It was like the 5th time of something ridiculous like that. I didn’t cry this time but I still sang along quietly and imagined that it was me up there singing defying gravity.

We were in our little home, settled and I had my Billy bookcases everything was going to plan and then the Cyst came. It sucked being bed ridden for a month, just feeling pathetic and useless. I could not have done it with Jean and my family. They helped me out so much. I am doing loads better, everything is all healed and it’s like a distant memory.

So despite all the anxiety attacks, days where I haven’t wanted to leave my bedroom and face other humans there have been some really good times amongst it all. I got to spend Christmas with Jean and my family, we ate all the food and forced my Dad to endure Mary Poppins and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. It was a lovely day.

Saying that if you are anything like me and self-critical to a point of damaging proportions it can be quite difficult to navigate this time of year. I mean it was only last night that I lay in bed till like 2am, attacking myself for not sticking to my resolutions for this year.

So, I have decided to leave this year and go into the next with a new state of mind, where I try and focus on the positive instead of letting the negative “nervousnelle” thoughts take over.

I have decided to call them “goals” instead of resolutions this year in an attempt at making myself feel less shit if I don’t stick to them.

A few of them are the usual and typical ones that you see in January for all the “New Year, New Me” crap but some of them are more related to my mental health and things I would just like to do. Then come this time next year we can all have a laugh at how I exercised like twice all year and still ate dairy like it doesn’t matter.

Cry Less

It has come to my attention recently (well not really, I knew this) but more people have noticed that my immediate reaction to stress, being overwhelmed, criticism, well life in general is to cry.

As we have seen this year, I cry in Ikea at the potential lack of a billy bookcase. I cry at Anime, TV, I nearly cried because I spilled my drink on my bed the other day. The thing is though I really want to learn some better strategies to cope and cry only when completely necessary. I know I am a very highly sensitive person, but I want to not let me emotions take charge.

Adult Better

I say it every year since I left University that I would pay off my overdraft and credit card but this year I want to be able to save for a house, holidays. Just be able to not worry about money. I really want to learn to drive this year, I started last year but never continued because well life, but this is the year I at least achieve that.

Self-Care

I have a gazillion pins on Pinterest and lists in notebooks of things to do in order to stop letting my anxiety getting the better of me. 2019 is the year that I intend to do some of this shit on those lists. Actually, practice what I preach…take some time out for myself, whether it be stepping away from social media for a day, running myself a bath, putting a facemask on. Just do something where I can check in with me. As part of this resolution, I referred myself to Talking Therapies so I can work on my mental health and I am not ashamed in asking for help.

Bullet Journal

I have started about 3 of these in the last year, my issue is that I am a little bit of a control freak and perfectionist, so I start then I make a mistake then I refuse to continue in a journal that is all sorts of wrong in my mind.

I have to start learning that mistakes are apart of life by God knows I have made a tonne; a wiggly line instead of a straight line isn’t the end of the world.

Blogging

Post more consistently. Remind myself why I am doing this. I may not be as big as some other bloggers. I may not have as many views or PR stuff but as long as people find the content, I put out relatable, it helps, makes them laugh or smile that’s all I care about. I have some stuff that I want to try out on here so your support is really appreciated. Thanks you for sticking with me.

Nor lose weight per say

But I want to exercise more I feel like everyone has this ‘New Year New Me’ mentality and feeds into the toxic diet culture. The truth is though since my operation and having all the focus on my tummy, having people prod and poke it. I have really become aware of it. I would just like to jiggle less haha, plus because I work in an office now and I’m not on my feet for 10 hours a day. I just want to be more active. Not only that I only have one body and I have been taking it for granted a little (a lot), like eating all the dairy and not giving two hoots when I know it makes me poorly.

So I have dug my fit bit out, I still need to charge but even I get my 10,000 steps in a day it is a start.

Toxic Relationships

It is always a toughie addressing this but this year I have really come to realise that sometimes some people you think are great, totally there for you are just toxic to your mental and physical health. I used to wind myself up about acting and looking a certain way or being too afraid to tell someone NO.

Next year, I will not let those “types” of people into my life because I got really really sick, worse than I had been for along time and it left me like an empty shell with the worst self esteem and being so ridiculously insecure in myself.

So if you are still reading my long winded waffle, thank you for all the support and I hope you can stick around for more inevitable stories of me crying in some shop about something.

Love

Ellen xx

Coping with mental health during Christmas

I realise it seems a bit morbid to be talking about “doom and gloom” during all the happiness and festive joy, but this is very much the reality for a lot of people.

So, I thought I would kind of go over my struggle to be a ray of sunshine over Christmas and my tips to help you cope with it.

Materialism

Now Christmas is honestly one of my favourite times of year, as I mentioned in my last post, I get to spoil all the people I love, eat all the food and warble like a cat being strangled to Mariah. The thing is though despite all this to look forward to I can still be found on Christmas sobbing and on the verge of a panic attack.

There is all this pressure around this time of year. Although I love spoiling the people I love, it comes with feeding into this materialistic bullshit where people parade all over social media with their presents. Now I know people work very hard to give to their family and loved ones, but I know I have gone on to Instagram on Christmas Day to be inundated with pictures of piles and piles of presents.

I compare myself a lot to other people leading me to feel very inadequate as an individual. I mean I do this on the daily to the point where I just end up deleting my social media apps for a few days just, so I can clear my head of all the bullshit we are fed.

So, seeing everyone’s huge piles of presents can lead you to feel unworthy if you haven’t got as much, that’s a huge part of Christmas that I really hate. The materialistic bragging nature of Christmas.

I am finding that really difficult to deal with at the moment, because I have been on the sick after the operation; the pennies are tight. I feel completely useless and totally inadequate because I can’t go out and buy the people, I love all the presents and goodies they want. So, when I see all those people out and about splashing the cash with all the bags it makes me feel rubbish. I know that isn’t what Christmas is about, but it is trying to rationalise that with yourself.

My family have told me not to worry about the presents, but it hasn’t really stopped me feeling pretty useless. Then my little brother, Thomas wrote a beautiful post on his school blog. I am going to link it below, so you can give it a read. He reminded me that Christmas is not about how much money you spend, and as he so eloquently put it; it is fact about giving the precious gifts; time, love and friendship.

https://gillibrandblogs.net/silverbirch2018/2018/12/06/monty-the-penguin/

Social Situations

Christmas is a time for reconnecting with friends and family, going out for work nights out, New Year Extravaganzas. For someone that be very overwhelmed by busy and loud environments it is difficult. You feel this guilt for not going out and socialising. Someone people aren’t always the most understanding and think that you are just flaky but when you are on the verge of breaking down, it is hard to meet social obligations. So, you become a little hermit, living in bed eating chocolate fingers watching Love Actually for the millionth time sobbing your heart out for Emma Thompson- This is totally what I did this weekend. I missed out on meeting my school friends, going out to my best friend’s birthday night out. I am sorry to everyone I ‘flaked’ on but when you dread going outside because you don’t want to break down in front of people.

I mean just to give you an understanding. On the first Saturday of December I went to the Metrocentre; a large shopping centre near me. It was so ridiculously busy and I was seriously uncomfortable, stressed out trying to organise Christmas presents, that I ended up crying in the middle of the shop. I hate that my go to reaction for being over whelmed by stimuli is cry…I just look a little crazy sometimes, I mean look at the time I cried in IKEA.

People in general

Now this is the first year in a like 7 years that I haven’t worked in retail over Christmas. I thought leaving retail would stop me running into those people who feel like speaking to sales advisors, retail workers and the like, like they are something on the end of their shoe. This sense of entitlement that people have, just angers the shit out of me. It seems that during the most wonderful time of the year everyone seems to lose their manners. It takes nothing to speak to someone with respect and politely, rather than commanding and demanding, because you just become the arsehole that we all speak and rant about in the staff room.

NEW YEAR

With the new year fast approaching, the dread and fear hits. I am completely and totally aware that I have NOT kept to any of my New Year’s Resolutions that I made. The feeling of just assessing your life in its entirety and feeling miserable because you feel like you have made no progress and are in the space you were at the start of the year. I know I spiral towards this time of the year, but I have decided to change my thinking for going into 2019. I am going to be kinder and put less pressure on myself.

Now that I have waffled on for a while moaning. Here are a few of my tips to survive Christmas if you are struggling at all. Some of these are my go to’s and some I have yet to try out…

• Delete Social Media- if you like me get overwhelmed, feel inadequate and spend your day scrolling and comparing yourself. Just DELETE the apps, even if it is just for a day. I have found myself less anxious and more present in my actual real life. Let’s be real, the reality of a lot of people’s lives is not how they portray it online etc.
• Go outside- I realise I sound like I am contradicting myself but going out and just getting some fresh air can really help clear your head.
• Run a hot bath- stick your favourite bath bomb, or bubble. Pour yourself a glass of wine, mug of hot chocolate. Clamber in and just luxuriate.
• DANCE PARTY!!- If any of you have ever watched Grey’s Anatomy you will have seen Meredith and Christina have a 30 second dance party when life is going to shit. Turn an absolute banger really loud and dance like no one is watching. Honestly it does wonders for the soul! My go to song is Love Shack by the B-52s.
• Do something in your local community- whether it is donating to a food bank, homeless shelter, toys for children who might get nothing. Get out there and give to those who are less fortunate. Me and Jean will be, which I am going to be writing a whole separate post on.

If you are struggling at all this Christmas, you are not alone. Talk about how you are feeling to someone, whether that be a family member, friend or a service like the Samaritans. Don’t struggle in silence.

Love

Ellen

x

On the first day of blogmas…

Seasons Greetings!!!

Well it’s that time of year again, where the diets go out the window and up here in Newcastle no one is wearing a coat on a night out despite the arctic temperatures we can experience.

I have never done Blogmas before so I thought i would give it go. Rather than overwhelm myself and write something for everyday of December, I have decided to upload a new Blogmas post every Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. This way if my calculations are correct we should in theory have ’12 Days of Christmas’

Now that the public service announcement is out of the way let’s started with the festivities.

To kick Blogmas off I thought I would talk about Why I Love Christmas.

I love Christmas I am like the Whos down in Whoville, who are mentally preparing for the festive season all year. As soon as Bonfire night is done in my mind I’m trying to assess the socially acceptable time to start blaring Michael Bublé’s Christmas album and stringing up 80’s foil garlands from every window.

If any of you know me personally, you will remember the year that my house was visible from the Motorway because of said foil garlands and a spectacular of lights.

This year the decoration situation is a little different. It is much more understated. If you read my last post you will know that I recently had an operation which meant I was off work for a month, so pennies have been pinched and food trumped Christmas decorations. So instead of buying a new big Christmas tree, my lovely dad has kindly let us use my Gran and Granddad’s Christmas tree. No assembly required. I think when her and my granddad bought it they must have literally thought we are not dealing with the faff of disassembly come New Year, so every year it would be put in a black bin bag and put in the spare room until it was time to celebrate again.

We went to collect it from my Dad’s last night here is me expecting the traditional whapping it out of a black bin bag, but no this year it was neatly stuffed inside of an Asda’s Finest Iberico Ham box.

It isn’t shiny and adorned in bling, but it has so much sentimental value to me that it is totally perfect.  It reminds of me of the reason Christmas is so important to me and that is Family.

I love being able to treat my family to some christmas presents. I love seeing how excited my younger brothers and sisters are when they see that Santa has been. Their faces when they find that the reindeers have left the half eaten carrot.

The next and completely obvious reason that I love Christmas is Food! All of the food! Advent calendars, selection boxes, Mince Pies, Pigs in Blankets, the list goes on and on. I can not wait for my Christmas dinner and the next few days of Turkey Sandwiches.

The other reason I love Christmas is the music and films. After working in retail for the past 6 years it would get to the middle of November when you would hear the first sound of Mr Buble. Everyone else would moan and complain how it’s too early. Me on the other hand we be in the background swinging tinsel around my head, busting some serious shapes.

Working in a call centre now means I don’t get to hear every possible rendition of “I saw Mummy Kissing Santa Claus” or such timeless classics like “The Cowboys Christmas Ball” a personal favourite of mine. So now I just have to incessantly hum and sing in between calls and hope to God a call comes through without me clicking, subjecting the poor soul on the other end to my cat like warbling.

I think I have rambled enough for now, it is getting late and I want to curl up in my cosy bed (we got new pillows, irrelevant but still they are so comfy)

I would love to hear why you all love the festive season because honestly this time of year is my favourite.

Alsoooooo I am doing a Christmas photo a day on my Instagram so make sure you follow me @nervousnelle

Love

Ellen x

The tale of my broken ovary.

Well the last week or so has not gone how I planned it at all.

Last week I started to get this horrid pain in my left side, I’ve had this pain once before and I was in bed for a few days with it. I took some painkillers and tried to sleep it off.

Cut to me doubled over in agony the next day whilst trying to get ready for work. The pain has made me physically sick, so I decide I have to go see someone.

I call my doctors so that the on duty doctor can call me and hopefully squeeze me in…but then it’s just too bloody much.

So I venture off to A and E, my dad in tow. I’m there for 6 hours…peeing in pots, giving them vials of blood to test. Nothing. They suspect a cyst on my ovary, tell me to go home with some pain relief.

I do just that, Jean came and picked me up we go home and I try to eat. Not happening. I end up having to wake him up at 2:30 for him to drive me back to the hospital.

You can only begin to imagine the joy of A and E on Halloween. One kid had a bloody troop with him and they were sat eating pizza. It’s a bloody hospital!!!!

More peeing in pots and being jabbed by needles, still nothing. Now they are concerned it’s either a cyst or a hernia in my leg.

I have a surgeon come down and tell me it’s not a femoral hernia as they suspected but have referred me to the gynaecology ward.

So away I go in my wheelchair up to Ward 40 of the RVI. The doctors, nurses and staff on this ward deserve all of the praise and love. They were absolutely incredible at making me comfortable, reassuring me and were so understanding about all my concerns.

So after yet again peeing in another pot, more bloods taken, having a light shined up my hoohah and the doctor having a root around in there. I’m sorry if that’s not a vey lady like way of describing it but that’s what it felt like. They decided that I would need a scan.

It was time to fill my bladder so they could do an ultrasound. Away I go on another adventure to get covered in jelly and hopefully find the root of all this god damn pain.

A cyst! On my left ovary. At this point it was a sigh of relief because I hate the idea of being a burden. Like the NHS is strained as it is they do not need people coming in wasting their time for just a pain. But I knew something wasn’t right.

The consultant came to see me and said that she wanted to try and manage the pain because the cyst can just go away on it’s own but if I don’t do well through the rest of the day/night. It would be surgery.

Friday morning, I’ve got my compression socks, hospital gown and I’m being wheeled to surgery.

At this point you need to be aware that I had signed the consent form that goes through all the risks and possible complications. That they may need to take the ovary itself if the cyst has fucked it up.

I have never had any kind of surgery before, I have never been so scared in all my life. I know that keyhole surgery is nothing compared to open heart surgery but I spiralled. Big time.

I hardly slept the night before as I wondered what would happen if they took my ovary. I know I have another one and I could still get pregnant it just might be harder. But the idea of waking up and them telling me they had to remove it upset me.

The idea of not being able to see my family beforehand. I sat and recalled the last things I had said to everyone, remembering telling Jean I loved him and I know this sounds melodramatic but I was really scared.

Friday 11am-I’m in the room with the anaesthetists, they jab me again, pop a new cannula in. At this point I’m thinking to myself they are going to attach those electrodes to your chest and they will realise how much you are shitting yourself. But I seemed to manage to hold my shit together.

All I kept thinking to myself was, your doctor reminds you of Christina Yang from Greys Anatomy. She was the best in her class you are in good hands. My sister and I had I joked before hand that I should ask them to say “it’s a beautiful day to save lives” before they start the op.

In goes the painkillers, on goes the oxygen mask and in goes whatever delightful magic puts you to sleep. Cut to me waking up in the recovery room not knowing who or where the fuck I was. The first thing I say to this nurse. Did they take my ovary?

She said no they managed to save it…after that I couldn’t tell you what she said I passed out again. Then I woke up again a bit more aware. She told me I had been out quite a while and I had been sick because of the breathing tube so I had to change my gown and all that delight.

They had to pump me full of morphine and anti sickness drugs. I’m sad I didn’t really get to enjoy the morphine (I hope you know what I mean) as I just slept. However I did notice that I had another cannula in my other wrist and was covered in bruises from where they had attempted to get another cannula in and failed. Here is me thinking I always had decent veins.

The consultant came to see me later and told me the cyst was on my Fallopian tube and the pain I was feeling was because my ovary has become all twist and mangled. Yum. They got it all out and check both of my tubes and they seemed to working fine.

I came home the next day and have been trying to take it easy since then. I’m really struggling with it though because I need to be of work for a few weeks. I can’t really move all that well and I’m just frustrated with myself. I’m also scared about tearing my stitches. Also I sneezed for the first time since the op today. Fuck me that’s painful!

I want to say the biggest thank you to my Dad, Christine and Jean. They have been more than wonderful, they have brought me pjs, food, cleaned the house, done my washing. Jean has helped me shower, brought me all of the tea, helped me change. Put up with me crying constantly at the minute. Oh and Eilis, you have made me chuckle and kept me relatively calm through this whole ordeal.

I love you all very much and thank you for all the support and being patient with me.

If anyone has any tips for recovery or ideas to stop me losing my mind staying at home for the next few weeks all ideas are welcome.

Yeah I cried in Ikea…and?

Hiiiiiii again from the post inconsistent human in all the land.

I say this every time with all the good intentions of posting regularly but it just hasn’t happened yet. There are reasons behind it so if you bear with me I am hoping all will become clear after I stop waffling.

I actually wrote this blog post an age ago and just never posted it. I am terrible at this.

So…I moved. It was a bit of a whirlwind and stressful as fuck.

Let me tell you I actually HATE moving. Why is it so hard? I hate the trying to box everything up whilst still trying to live amongst the boxes and bin bags filled with all the stuff you have hoarded.

The night before me and Jean moved, I obviously had a breakdown…not at the packing but the final straw was that it was too late for us to go get a “make your own” pizza at asda. I just slumped on the bed and cried for a while over the loss of pepperoni pizza.

The thing is with my anxiety I don’t usually cry about the big stuff like “OMG we are moving in together tomorrow what if you end up hating me?” Nooope I cry about pepperoni pizza. Priorities.

Then came moving day…I had built it up in my head to be the most anxiety inducing day of the whole thing and it just wasn’t. Big shout out to Jean and my dad for all the heavy lifting they did and getting all the furniture into place. I mean I tried to help and failed. Long story short I smacked my leg on the van and had a reallllly massive bruise on the inside of my leg for a few weeks.

So, to do the actual moving we hired a van which Jean would have to drive, which was terrifying at first but we were cruising by the end. We only had the van till 6 so he had to drop me off at the Asda near the Van hire place. This would have normally been totally fine because I could have perused the aisles, picked up tea or bought some more (“pointless”) decorative throws. But no! I had to be dropped out with the sofa cushions, a tv, an ice cube tray and the toaster. My phone was on 1%, so I couldn’t just call my sister to talk to me during this hilarious turn of events. I just had to sit there like I had been turned out of my house and grab the weirdest collection of items I could think of.

One man walked past with his son and asked whether if they bought some bread whether I would make them some toast, for one where is the electricity coming from pal, let alone the fact you failed to mention the lurpack and jam. So, you are going to subject your child to plain toast…bad parenting if you ask me.

But we eventually got back to the house, he obviously set up the tv and the games consoles (yes that’s plural) whilst I faffed about with the decorative throws and pillows. So, we managed to get the bedroom pretty much set up on the night.

Since then we have done a good few trips to Ikea for more candles and the Billy bookcases. Now if you had been working with me the week after we moved I would not shut up about these bookcases. I had it all planned where they were going, when we were getting them.

Fast forward to me standing in Ikea crying like a child who couldn’t get a new toy because when we got to the aisle the Billy bookcases were on. The shelf was EMPTY!

Now even Jean had trouble wrapping his brain around the fact that I was in hysterics about a piece of Swedish flat pack furniture…turns out we were on the wrong aisle and they had loads. Oooooops haha.

Then I cocked up putting them together because I am strong independent lady that can put furniture together. I was wrong, but now I have 2 Billy bookcases in my living room and they look great.

Anyhooo, we have been here about 6 weeks now, there is still stuff in the spare room that needs unpacking but I’m doing it a bag at a time. I don’t know why but I have now suddenly become this totally new person when it comes to cleaning the house.

Now I am sure all of you have heard of Mrs Hinch and her cleaning regime, I liked cleaning before but now my god!!! I have literally just been into Wilkos today to buy more Paul the Pine and a new basket for my cleaning products because the one basket I have isn’t enough.

I put my cloths in the bath, but the kitchen to bed. Like who am I??? In all honesty though the cleaning really does help me when I’m anxious. Keeps my mind off the crippling insecurities that I have.

So that is where I have been, off being a domestic goddess that cries in Ikea about bookcases and just trying to adult. I have a few posts that are actually scheduled…like they are completed and in the queue.

Love

xxx

Life update

Oh hello again…from the most inconsistent “blogger” in all of the land.

I’m back…back again.

The last few months have been a bit of a whirlwind of experiences and changes. So I thought whilst I’m sat here contemplating whether to get off my arse and shower I would write this little update.

Soooo where to begin. Relationships ended, yeah it sucked but I’m all good now. I had my sad, teary moments then decided to just crack on with life because it’s too bloody short.

I am now with someone who makes me really happy, he is a really good egg. He makes me laugh and is very understanding of my “Nervousnelle” brain. I want to keep it quite private for now but I’m really excited for the future.

I think probably the biggest change is that after 6 long years I left Yours Clothing. Telling everyone that I was leaving was honestly one of the hardest things to do because those girls had become my family, hell I saw them more than my actual family. I have made some life long friends from all the time, places I’ve been with them but it was the right time for me to go.

So I started at my new job a few weeks back. Everyone is so lovely, which makes being a newbie better. I got signed off yesterday to take live calls so I’m buzzing because I had drove myself a little crazy and the anxiety has been high the last few days. But I did it.

Today I had my first day completely solo on the phones. I managed to get through the day…and of course I don’t get a call for the last 10 minutes of my shift and then 16:59 and I get a call through. Bloody typical haha.

I’m busy trying to find a new house for September and the stress is real!!! Why are estate agents absolute arses. Like really why?! I just want a good sized place that is affordable and doesn’t look like it was once a crack den.

All in all things are good. I obviously still have really bad days and those suck big style. I just have to try and focus on all the good things then try and anticipate how things “could” go.

I’m going to be much more consistent on here because I have more free time to dedicate to my passions.

So if there is anything you would like to see let me know.

Till then. Learn lots and make friends.

Love

Ellen

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Smonday

Smonday/Sunday Blues or as I call it the Sunday Spiral.

For those of you who aren’t familiar “smonday” is when you get to that certain point on a Sunday evening where everything is great and then the FEAR, the anxiety kicks in.

It happened again tonight.

Here I am…I’ve had a good, busy Sunday at work, planned actual social outings, had a nice dinner and watched the series finale of Jane the Virgin (sidenote: What the fuck) and then BAM suddenly I’m sat crying on FaceTime to my sister worrying about life and all the things that are “wrong” with mine.

Now I’ve read up on “the Sunday blues” stuff before, they say it’s because of the fear of going back to “normal day to day life” on Monday morning after your relaxed weekend. The thing is my small meltdown (a whole packet of tissues kind of breakdown) was about everything but Work…financially will I able to support myself without the help of a parent, will I find a house of my own, will I make a life for myself I’m proud of, will I have something to show for all of it…and so the spiral continues till I’m just a blubbering mess.

In comes my voice of reason.

My sister is a very wise human. Too wise for her age sometimes. One word thats all she says to me. Perspective. Well besides the usual “chill out dude you are going to give yourself lines.” Rather than look at all the things I feel I can’t do for myself and are supposedly wrong (buy a new laptop, live in a fancy house etc) look at the things I can do.

It sounds so simple doesn’t it. It’s hard though when you are stuck and you are feeling sorry for yourself. But yet again she is right.

A little insight into my family life my sister says a number of wise things and because of this she has some rules to follow

Rule no 1. Eilis is always right

Rule no. 2. See Rule 1

And with that in mind I attempted just that, change my perspective. So I’ve sat and made a list of things I can do and I’m grateful to have in my life.

So from now on as part of my self care, I’m going to make a note of something I’m grateful for or has made me happy; my yay of the day in my bullet journal.

I’m going to tell the spiral to fuck off and do one because I’m going to be a positive polly (I’m sure there will be some slips…but still)

Hope everyone else’s Sunday has been less teary.

Ellen

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First blog post

Evening.

Here I am…again. Trying to giving this blogging thing another go.  I’m lying on my sofa in a very questionable ensemble of pyjamas, watching old Grey’s Anatomy. Constantly wondering to myself why I never tried hard enough because with my combined knowledge from Christina Yang and years of watching ER I could have totally become a Surgeon for sure.

In reality it would be like that scene in The Heat, when Sandra Bullock nearly kills that guy when she sticks a straw in his throat.  I don’t know why any of this is relevant it probably isn’t but I’m rambling because I always struggle with these introductory posts.

I’ve recently had some stuff go down that has made me rethink my priorities, I have to take care of myself. This is totally new ground for me as I usually put everyone and their needs above my own, which then leads to a lot of problems on my end. Hello regular anxiety meltdowns and all the other joyous happy things.

So…if watching and listening to me fumble through life as I try to not make shitty decisions and actually practice what I preach to people, then stay tuned. In the words of the legend Ronan Keating “Life is rollercoaster, you just got to ride it” (FYI: I hate rollercoasters)

Ellen

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