Thursday 17/04/2018

Today is day 2 back on my medication, fluoxetine. I have been taking this for 6 years, sometimes I forget to get it when I run out and put off calling gp for repeats because past experiences with receptionists makes my anxiety peak. I have just gone 3 weeks off these meds. I get so emotionally drained and can’t cope with menial things, I fly off the handle, scream and shout at my poor kids for nothing so I’m glad I have my prescription and I can level back out again.

I just moved back to Stevenston in November and joined this new surgery in January, I need a medication review and a few other health issues need discussed as well but I have real anxiety about going to gp. My mum is at docs and had me at docs for everything and has the policy of better safe than sorry. But the effect it has on me is that I don’t go often enough, even with my 3 kids.

At first, this new surgery were telling me appointments are 2 weeks in advance. I did manage to see a doctor about Johns rash when it first started almost 2 months ago then his next appointment was with a nurse both diagnosed a viral rash which I disagree with but took their word for it and tried what they prescribed. I have tried over the past few weeks to get him another appointment but I’m always told nothing available or call back tomorrow or system is down. Now I’m told they are giving ‘on the day’ appointments but that they are very busy sorting out the new system and he probably won’t be seen until next week. Well I’m gonna call tomorrow and make them aware how unacceptable I’m finding this as John is 7 years old and it’s impacting his life at school as his rash is covering his whole body and kids are blimmin cruel.

Goodnight

Kelly xx

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No comparisons, presumptions or body confidence

A lot of people are talking about not comparing themselves to others at the moment and I think this is fantastic.  We are all uniquely indivual, in looks, size, iq, fashion sense, fitness level, height, talent, personality traits, emotional and psychological make up!! The list is endless and subcategories even more infinite.  Why then are we always so quick to compare ourselves to others? She’s so much prettier than me, she’s slimmer than me, he’s taller than me, his teeth better than mine, they have it all sorted and life is perfect in their world!!!  How exactly do we come to these conclusions?? By judging the odd snippet shown on their social media? By watching a ten minute video on YouTube that can’t be fully representative of a whole day/week/month in the life….

These things we are so addicted to are snippets and we have to be very mindful of this.  I’m loving the new uprising about sharing your absolute self but we still seem to explain the reasoning behind it because that makes us feel better.  I am a very overweight person in fact i’m 5’6” and around 22stones.  I am not saying this because I am ashamed and need help to change it.  Do I feel overweight and out of place in today’s size zero goals for the perfect woman shared on every magazine?? Yes.  Am I ashamed to go out in public showing my bulk? No.  I am actually pretty body confident these days!!

I am 37 years old, I have always been chubby/overweight and for a very long time I hated my body and hid under massive baggy jumpers. As a young primary age child I was aware I was chubby and ugly. I’m not aware how and why I came to this conclusion so young but I did get bullied a bit by older kids so maybe it was that.  I know my lack of self worth was how I was treated by many, I was the product of an “affair” and growing up in the Salvation Army where this was common knowledge I was both covertly and overtly treated as a ‘bastard’.  It was the 1980’s and looking back my mother and I were treated like it was 1840.  I actually remember being told ‘to remember who I was and who my mother was’ by one of the leaders there.  I think I was around 12 years old at the time.  Another thing I remember hearing being said round this time was by 2 girls a few yrs older than me talking about boys and kissing and things, I can’t be 100% sure but I heard them say that she’ll never get a boyfriend or married cos she’s so ugly.  I presumed this was aimed at me, I looked up to these girls and this totally crushed me.

At high school I was one of the taller girls and being size 16 and not 6/8 obviously I was a fat target.  In hindsight I was fully developed and if I had any make up skills or fashion sense I would have ruled the school.  In reality I was unconfident, uncool and totally ridiculed by many.  Once a guy in my class even out worms in my pocket, fortunately another classmate told me and took them out for me.  I still hate the thought of touching worms to this day.   I did find my place eventually at high school and did have many friends and good memories but I always felt loved me a big fat ugly monster compared to all my peers.  I always had very low self esteem and low self worth, I have believed that everyone else is better than me and prettier than me for a very long time.  I am good at putting a n a mask and being confident funny Kelly, I want to be liked, I strive to be loved.  But for most of my life I did this in all the wrong ways!!  I accepted being treated however people felt like treating me even though the good times and positive moments were few and far between.  I gave up doing things I enjoyed to enjoy what they enjoyed so that they would like me.  My friends rang I jumped, no matter what.  But there were many times I was left hanging or plain left out and I forgave this and still jumped the next time.

Now I really do love myself, any bullies I have come across in my life are forgiven, those incidents were about them not me?? The voices in my head telling me people are looking at me thinking look at the state of that fat ugly beast, i’ve trained to say they fancy you cos your gorgeous instead!!!  I don’t go often to hair salons or beauty salons because I think i’m Too fat and ugly for those beautiful places.  I still don’t go to these places it’s something I need to work on because i’ve Been in with friends and never had a bad experience yet!  All this retaining your brain to think differently is very difficult but it does work!!  You have to put the effort in and to make it fun have a tennis racket or golf club in your head and if you or anyone else says something negative to you give it a whallop!! Simply bat it away. This takes time and patience to achieve, but bear with it wake up each morning have a large glass of water, meditate, pray do a wee yoga session and talk kindly to yourself!  Tell yourself you are good, you are strong, you are worthy and kind, not everything will be sunshine and rainbows, but see that breath you just took, see that bird on the fence, hear your cat purring there’s food in the cupboards and a roof over your head!! But most importantly you are beautiful! Live your best life you are in control and there is no comparison 😍😍😘

Kelly-Anne

This is me at 16 years old on the right!  The big fat ugly monster that I was 🙄😬

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My birth stories and Postnatal Depression

755C55CF-F322-4FF0-8534-88FDDDB86E50Hello guys,

So there are many, many, many blogs on Mental Health, postnatal depression, depression and anxiety.  I have decided to share my experiences too, the reason for me doing this is to get it off my chest and if that helps just one person then i’ll be happy.  I have to say that all my words are my own and everything in this blog is my own personal perception of each situation and some things that I share are not done to cause bashing against anyone especially my ex husband who is exactly that! My ex, we are divorced and he is still in my life as the father of my children so anything I share about him from my perspective obviously has at least 3 more points of view.

I was diagnosed with PND after having my 3rd baby, Mark was born on 6th December 2011 and weighed 7lbs 14ozs which was exactly the same weight as my firstborn Leah in 2005.  When Mark was born our household was a very busy one as we (I was still married at the time) had my 14 yr old cousin, Stewart, living with us due to him having some difficulties at home.  Leah was 6 years old and in Primary 2 and we also had John who was 14 months old.  We’d waited a while after leah to have another because I had had to have an emergency c-section with her, she was back to back and her head wedged in my pelvis so after a long hard labour it ended in an operation.  Nothing too horrendous happened during Leah’s birth apart from me being told I had this infection called strep B which I had never heard of.  In my drugged up state I thought it was an STI and assumed that my ex must’ve been cheating on me.  I never said a word, but I did allow my mum to stay in the room the majority of the time and they would only let one person in with me at a time so my ex and my mum were a tag team. Or they were supposed to be, my ex later told me he felt pushed out although it was him I asked for when it was time to push and to go to theatre.  Leah was born at 08.58 on a Wednesday morning, weighing 7lbs 14ozs and my first glance of her when they held her up over the screen, I thought she was my spitting image. Then they took her to clean her up and weigh her etc, when they brought her back all I could see was that she was the image of her dad.  It was love at first sight and from that moment on I truly knew what love was.

In the recovery room, Leah took to my breast like a duck to water she was an absolute natural 👌🏻.  The doctor that had been looking after me came to check that Leah and I were both ok because of the Strep B infection and it was at this point I burst out crying and asked if I had an STI. I was reassured that no this was not the case that it was an infection a lot of pregnant women carry and if passed to the baby could be fatal, i’m so glad I never realised that at the time as a threat to my babies life would have been far worse than a threat to my marriage.  My marriage definitely had a lot of ups and downs over the next 5 years but when I fell pregnant for a second time I really, really wanted a natural birth, unfortunately this wasn’t to be and on the 4th October 2010 at 16.15 on a Monday afternoon John was born weighing 7lbs 5.5 ozs.  It was a planned section at 41 weeks as labour wasn’t happening and because I’d had a section before they wouldn’t  start me via drip, which is standard practice due to scar tissue being weak, I think.  John also took to my breast naturally and both him and Leah were exclusively breast fed for 2 months before being transferred to formula.

So when John was 6 months old and I suddenly couldn’t stand the smell of coffee, I knew we were pregnant again.  Having John I had felt on top of the world I had my princess and a little prince so I was content with 2 kids, suddenly we would have 3, well 4 if you include my little cousin Stewart.  While pregnant with John I had been diagnosed with a chronic pain and fatigue condition called fibromyalgia, I had been referred to the rheumatologist due to widespread pain and tiredness and this was my result.

Due to having 2 previous sections there was no option but to be booked in for a third, so Marks birth was booked for Thursday 6th December in the am.  I hadn’t enjoyed my pregnancy this time around and I’m only a wee bit ashamed to admit that I was a little disappointed at the 20 week scan when the sonographer told us it was another boy as I was convinced it was a girl.  I remember the morning going to hospital to have Mark I was very excited and very nervous, excited to meet my beautiful boy but nervous because I knew the risks of a third c-section mixed with only having had one 14 months previous.  We had to be there really early, like 7.30 I think but we were waiting a few hrs before it was our turn.  I started having a few niggly contractions while we were waiting and this made me even more nervous.  Finally when I was taken through to theatre and being prepped getting my spinal etc I felt deep down that this wasn’t going to be the same straightforward experience I’d previously had.  I felt sick. Really sick.  They gave me antibiotics and Strep B was mentioned again.  I was laid back and my arms out in the arm rests, I told the midwife beside me I was going to be sick, my heart rate kept dropping, the surgeons had to tilt me so far back I thought I was going to slide off the bed. Seriously the midwife was holding my shoulder at one side while my husband held the other. I spewed quite a few times. It seemed to last forever, I felt like I was going to die.  Mark didn’t cry straight away they didn’t show me him over the screen as they had before.  I was shivering.  Why was it quiet?!  Why were the surgeons whispering?!  Then a baby was screaming, is he ok?? Reassurances yes he’s absolutely fine, he’s 7lbs 14ozs, the same as Leah was.  He’s given to his dad, surgeons are still stitching me up, I think this is strange I had my other 2 babies in my arms by this point.  He’s put into his little plastic crib and we’re taken round to recovery.  I want Mark we haven’t had skin to skin, I want him to feed from me as the other two did.  He finds my nipple and feeds a bit but not very long.  The surgeon comes to speak to us and explains that things had been quite complicated, my bladder was attached to old scar tissue in a way which meant they had to make a second incision to my womb higher up.  I can’t remember any other ins and outs of what happened but I was on the cusp of loosing 6 pints of blood  which would have meant a transfusion. Fortunately I didn’t get a transfusion but I did have a drain in my wound for a few hours.  All this drama meant I was in an awful lot of pain and they’d used staples to close my wound which had been a massive fear of mine.  As i’m very overweight my overhang on my tummy is big and when I could move I was scared to incase the staples ripped me and I was in sooo much pain.

On the second day when my mum and ex husband came to visit I was sitting up on the chair.  I remember asking my ex to help me stand up because I needed the toilet but he said ‘no get up yourself’.  This really upset me but I didn’t show it as all the kids were there, later he said he had been joking but I thought if that was the case he would have helped me but he didn’t.  My ex was struggling at home with the kids on his own and there was an incident when my mum came to pick them up to visit me, my ex had taken John in the buggy to town to get a few bits and John was cranky, probably due to missing his mummy.  The bottle of milk he had bought and put under the buggy had fallen out and burst on the bus, so when they were all at mine getting ready for the visit my ex was worked up shouting at John saying it was his fault the milk had burst and he wouldn’t allow my mum to take over changing his nappy so he could take five minutes to calm down.  This is what happened as it was relayed to me from my mum who was worried about John, my ex then took 14 month old John into the hallway to strap him into the buggy and according to my mum she heard my ex smack John, according to my ex it was the noise of the buggy straps.  I was in hospital in a lot of pain hormones raging and my baby and I lucky to be alive and every visit was bringing more stress. I didn’t know what to do or who to believe but what I did know was that I had 4 kids to care for and was not present to witness the incident so I went home to try and hold our family together and recover from a horrible operation.

The first 2 weeks home with Markie are a blur, on the 18th December a Sunday morning my ex was getting ready to go to work when he got a phone call from home ( he’s from St.Helens) to say his dad was in a bad way in hospital and he should get there as soon as possible.  My father in law passed away that evening with my ex in the room.  So now a week before Christmas and still not fully healed I had to pack up Christmas for 4 kids and travel to St.Helens.  My mum and Stewart were a massive help with the kids.  So much had had happened since baby Mark was born I felt like I was just a robot getting through each day.  I had put Mark straight onto formula when I got home as my stomach was in too much pain to hold him for too long, I felt so guilty about this because my other two had got 2 months of my milk.  But he was thriving so it was ok and with trying to meet the needs of the other 3 kids and trying to be supportive to my grieving husband I didn’t really have time to dwell.  At our 6 week check my health visitor went through the mental health questions with me to determine likelihood of Postnatal Depression and I remember thinking I was doing a great job being upbeat open and honest, but her face was a picture when I said “everyone feels suicidal sometimes, don’t they, i’m not gonna actually do it!?!”.  Poor woman, I genuinely believed that tho I thought the feelings of wanting to leave, of feelings no like I was drowning was a ‘normal’ thing that a lot of mums of more than 2 kids must’ve felt.  She called the doctor and made me an appointment, I was diagnosed with postnatal depression and prescribed fluoxetine, I still take it to this day and Mark is 6 now.  I struggle severely with depression and anxiety and I’m nowhere near the mum I want to be, but every single thing I do manage to do with/for my kids is done with 100% love and effort.

A lot more happened in the three years from Marks birth til my ex husband and I separated, ultimately I had to make the decision to end that marriage as it got far too toxic for everyone and although we still have our issues, I am working on creating a positive atmosphere and lives for my 3 children.

Feel free to comment and give me feedback particularly in relation to wether I have gone on too long, revealed to much, not explained things fully or even just to say hi.  Also if you enjoyed reading and want to know more then please subscribe to my blog and look out for more posts to come.

Thank you

Happy Easter

Kelly-Anne

xxx

 

 

Introducing Moi

Hello and welcome to my Blog site, my name is Kelly-Anne and I have been thinking about blogging for a long time.  For me this going to essentially be a journal, sounding ground to log things that have happened or are happening in my life.  I currently do not have a job, I have recently been put on the support group section and receive ESA benefit.  The reason for this is I have fibromyalgia which is a chronic fatigue and pain condition and Irritable Bowel Syndrome.  I also have some mental health issues mainly depression & anxiety.  I am a divorced mother of three children Leah is 12, John is 7 and Mark is 6.  I am 37 years old and was married for 13 years before we separated in June 2015.  My divorce was finalised in November 2017.

We have two dogs Daisy is our six year old Yorkshire Terrier and we have had her since she was 12 weeks old.  Ricco is our 6 year old Chihuahua who we rescued in January 2018.  We have a cat Lola who is 8 and finally we have two chinchillas which we rescued last year.  I have a full house which I like but I do struggle to keep on top of house work (sue me).

I am Scottish and live on the Ayrshire coast, I have lived here all my life apart from 7 months I spent working at Hilton East Midlands Airport Hotel in 2002/03.  We have beautiful beaches, views and countryside and we’re only an hours drive from the city of Glasgow.  I don’t really travel much only have holidays at caravan sites due to being on benefits and a single parent.  I’m not complaining about this as I am not a wanderer at all I am a definite home bird and like most Scots very proud of my heritage.  The only big dream I have for travelling is to one go to Walt Disney World as I am a BIG fan!!!

I grew up going to the Salvation Army and left at around 14 yrs old, i then started going to the local baptist church until I moved away to work in a Hilton Hotel in Derbyshire.  I have gone to other churches in my adult life but not really found the one.  I have recently sent my children to a youth group at the baptist I used to attend I may give this another chance myself.  After everything I have been through in life I definitely believe in God and what he stands for but I completely abhor “religion” and categorising ‘faith’ into a box.  Christians are people, people are not by essence ‘like God’ and therefor are fallible, and imperfect.  In that basic sense we are one in all equals!!

These days I try to live by positivity and mindfulness, it’s not always easy especially when I have been utterly doused in negativity for a large part of my life!  But I am definitely making headway in breaking this negative cycle for my children, who I adore and live for.

Well i’ll leave it there for now and I hope you have enjoyed my introductory blog.  Some of my posts will be very deep and meaningful, some will be thankful and some will be very light hearted.  I hope you continue to read my blogs and give me feedback along the way.

Speak soon

Kelly-Anne 😍😍😘