A day in the life…

This morning I was rudely awakened at about 3am. The ill mannered culprit was pain. This time it was intense & centred in my stomach. So, i got up, took my stomach meds, some painkillers & hoped for relief.

Relief was not to come. I lay in the dark for half an hour waiting for the medication to work it’s magic. My body was having none of it, a wave of nausea washed over me & I knew I was going to be sick. I ‘rushed’ to the bathroom where I proceeded to vomit repeatedly. Each violent wretch sent pain shooting down my back. An hour later I’m sweating, dizzy, sore & unable to get off the bathroom floor.

All the throwing up had triggered some hefty heartburn & reflux, but meds weren’t  an option for fear of kicking off more vomiting. I slowly picked myself off the floor & retreated to the living room. Once situated on the sofa, I turned out the lights & put Joni Mitchell on low.  Over the next several hours,

I tried breathing exercises,

put on my tens, 

paced, 

drank mint tea,

curled into ball,

took more medication, 

vommed more medication 

watched the sun come up

& resigned myself to having a rough day. 

That’s exactly what happened. Today was a riot of pain. My stomach continued to be a nightmare. My back ache progressed into agony. I was intermittently sick throughout the day. Thus I had to cancel appointments. Most of the writing scheduled for today wasn’t even attempted. More housework piled up as I struggled to control my pain & rising panic. An acute flare like is this stressful because I never have any idea how long it might last. I could be in better shape tomorrow or I could be in hospital. I live alone & I work freelance; if I don’t do it, it doesn’t get done. I worry. A lot. I grow concerned about 

staying solvent, 

my professional reputation,

keeping my home presentable,

keeping myself presentable,

how I will keep important appointments,

letting my loved ones down, 

losing control of my mental health, 

Basically, I worry about everything, from the state of my kitchen floor to the state of my relationship. Of course all this stress is detrimental to my health. Especially with regards my to stomach problems, stress is the enemy. Likewise, stress is an anathema to sleep. Lack of sleep makes illness more difficult to cope with, but of course pain & illness also make it harder to sleep. If I can’t manage my anxiety it will spiral into panic attacks & depression. Any decline in my mental health reduces my productivity, my ability to leave the house & my chances at engaging with the world positively. Around & around I go. Symptoms exacerbate symptoms all adding up to an almost permanantly exhausted, scared, sick & sore me. 

And this is my life. This level of illness is not rare. My good days are not pain free. I don’t know when the bad times will hit. I wake up every morning with no idea if I’ll be able to get out of bed. Chronic illness is fucking nightmare. It forces you let people down, to miss huge chunks of your own life & to live that life always walking on broken glass.  

My week in pictures…

I am currently an utterly exhausted mess, but for once it’s for good reasons. Last week was busy & wonderful. Comprised of friends, little ones & spontaneous fun. Plus some stunning sights. I have been snapping away like crazy. 

After many calendar conflicts I finally got through to Musselburgh to see friends. Lisa has been enducing hilarity & giving me heart warming hugs for over ten years now. She now comes with the added bonuses of a lovely husband & beautiful son. It doesn’t do any harm that she lives minutes away from this most amazing beaches either. Anyway, I always have the best time when I visit & this trip was no different. 

We went to the most picturesque village for lunch. It had a very Austen vibe & the tea shop served me a delicious vegan sandwich, top marks. Next stop was the perfect beach at Tynningham. Accessed by a short walk through a scenic forresr, I fell in love the moment I saw the sea. Once little James had terrified me with a crab a shell, we settled on a rock to watch the tide come in. I don’t know why, but the sea always soothes me. I left the sunny east coast feeling revitilised & full of love. 

I caught up with my bestie & got to hear all her latest pregnancy news. I also got a wee feel of her bump. I am bursting to meet her little one. I already have so many fun ideas for when this bundle arrives. 

I finished up the week chilling with the toy boy. Or trying to chill until he marched me all over town, I made the worst sushi in the history of the world & we embarked on a spontaneous day at The Fringe.


Highlights of our flying festival visit were Suky Goodfellow’s spoken word show, Political Acid Trip. She blew me away. Her fringe run is finished, but check her Facebook for more events. You will not be disappointed. 


Last stop was high above Princes Street. After years of wanting to take a ride on the Giant Wheel, I finally made it. It exceeded expectations. The views up there are startling. ​​

No compassion…

I’m 36yrs old, chronically ill and a size 22, I am no stranger to a bit medical fat shaming. Sadly, I have had to develop a thick skin when it comes to interacting with the medical profession. Drs & nurses will say things to me that no one else would dare to. I have had to learn to advocate for myself when necessary & brush off a whole bunch of bullshit along the way. To be honest I thought I was fairly untouchable. I am entirely comfortable with my size & though often tiring to hear the same fat phobic lectures, it doesn’t hurt me. Infuriate, yes, but I never felt unable to deal with it. Until recently. 

Earlier this year I had a miscarriage. It was not my first loss. My previous experiences of pregnancy & miscarriage were hugely traumatic and in fact played a major part in my mental health struggles. Losing another baby was horrendous. I had some complications and ended up having to spend a little time in hospital. The one small blessing was the support system I have in place and the kindness I was treated with whilst inpatient. Once home & physically recovered I visited my GP to discuss my general health & how to proceed fertility wise. That she wanted to talk about weight loss was not entirely unexpected. I know standard advice for anyone overweight talking about having a baby is lose weight. I know drs still hold rigidly to the BMI scale & that there is an upper limit for fertility treatment. I know fat women often have their pregnancies labelled high risk. What I wasn’t prepared for was this gp’s insinuation that my weight caused my miscarriage. So, unprepared was I that I convinced myself that I had misunderstood. I pushed it out of my mind & continued trying to process my grief. However, when I returned a week later and she still only wanted to talk about diet plans, what I ate, what I weighed now & how often she could weight me,I was more explicit. I explained my history of borderline eating disorders, of starvation diets & losing vast amounts of weight only to regain it. I told her I did not and would engage with rigid diets or weight loss programmes. Her response was given my multiple miscarriages, I might want to re think that. I enquired If she was saying I miscarried because I was fat & she confirmed that she thought it likely.

 

I walked out feeling a rage that quickly melted away to sadness. I was left wanting to crawl into bed and never get out again. I have struggled with PTSD for many years; my original trauma was an emotionally abusive relationship & my the circumstances surrounding my first miscarriage. It has taken me literally my entire adult life to get control of my shame and guilt. Years of self harm, debilitating depression, panic attacks, flash backs and nightmares all centred around how the loss of my child and subsequent illness was all my fault. One thoughtless dr had thrust back into that damaging thought cycle. On top of that I have fought to reclaim my body as acceptable. I have had to work to enjoy my life in this fat scarred body. My history is well documented in my medical records and I have personally discussed it with the dr. That truth is she wants me to be thin more than she wants to me be happy & healthy. Her complete disregard for my mental health was cruel. That she hadn’t even bothered to investigate my history before speaking is unacceptable. A cursory glance at my notes would have revealed that I was not over weight at the time of my other pregnancy losses. She would also have seen that I am currently taking a medication for PCOS that causes weight loss. The drug is harsh on my already inflamed digestive system meaning that I throw up daily. In addition one of it’s major side effects is appetite reduction. Hence, I have been slowly shedding pounds since I commenced this treatment. I also have diagnosed gynaecological issues, which are much more likely to play a part in my inability to carry to term. The conversation she forced upon me was not only insensitive, but entirely irrelevant. That said, it is never ok to blame a vulnerable women for the loss of her child.

I have chosen not to see that GP again. I attend a fairly large practise and as a freelancer have the freedom to wait for appointments with another dr. I have yet to confront the issue as it still feels so raw. However I feel a strange sense of duty; I feel I must tackle this to prevent it happening to someone else. I recognise that there were times in my past when this dr’s assertions would have entirely destroyed me. I hate that the responsibility to educate & challenge falls to people like me. I cannot understand why a profession who swear to ‘do no harm’ are so married to fat phobia. Why is care and compassion is so often disregarded purely because a patient is fat?


 

 

My week in pictures…

It’s Saturday night & I’m watching Die Hard 2 in my jammies. I say this not as a complaint. It is pretty much the perfect end to a great week. I’m definitely on the sore side, but at least I earned the aches having fun. And, so, I give you my week in pictures.

The toy boy went to a festival last weekend, so I did a little shopping & eating with my darling sister. Followed by drinks with friends & experiments with new lippy shades. The week proper began with some catching up with my man. A home cooked meal, brand new baby doll nightie & a lot of carry on. 


A hump day movie night was disappointing for me, but a hit with the toy boy. Surely I’m not alone on thinking there are too many damn Spider-Man movies? Calderglen Country Park on a sunny day made up for the dud film. 

Amongst scans, bloods tests & pitching to editors I found time to treat myself to some beauty bits & pieces. Namely more nail products. My manicures continue to be fancy af. There has also been vegan delights galore & lots of feline antics.

I capped the week with science frolics. The adult only Science lates at Glasgow Science Centre are more enjoyable than I’d imagined. All the fun of the interactive Science malls, planterium & live shoes with added cocktails. Trust me those optical illusions get even more freaky after a few tipples. 


Of course it wouldn’t be a week in pictures without some random interspersed shots of things that grabbed my attention. Oh & project post it continues to spread some wisdom. 

My week (ish) in pictures…

To be honest it’s more like a month in pictures as I have spent a lot of time in bed the last few weeks. Hey ho, I have still managed to wear some cute looks, have a bit of fun & snap interesting things. 

I made it out one weekend to Yellow Movement Sunday. It’s a monthly gig featuring local talent. This month’s included Scottish hip hop & reggae from Skaledonia, Busker Rhymes & Umbungo Nambarie. The event  was raising funds for Suicide Prevention, which I was very happy to support. Check out their Facebook for next month’s line up. 


I’ve rocked some smashing nail art  & debuted new accessories. I caught a few sun rises, including this corker. There have been even more pills to take & moustache experimentation.



My neice, Athena, clued me in on zombie eyes, shopkins, how pesky her Dad is & much much more. Our facetimes are always a highlight of my week. I haven’t been able to see much of baby Kevin as I didn’t want to make him sick. He loves my dangly light shade & I love this picture of him playing with it. 

Work took me to the Ibis Style in Glasgow. I took the toyboy along to make it more fun & he didn’t disappoint. We nipped out for a yummy bento box & then just chilled in the big comfy bed. He also did a little hiding behind the curtains because that’s what toy boys do. It’s a cool hotel with a strong Glasgow theme, which I think tourists would love. The most important parts of any hotel for me are good bathroom & breakfast. Ibis gets a big tick for both. 


There has also been a lot of staying home in jammies, Sundays in bed, cosy comfy outfits & snuggles with Bronan. Oh, I also met a puppy & project post it is still going strong. 


Hope you’ve all survived January. It has certainly been eventful on a global scale. Fingers crossed for a reduction in crazy next month. 

How lovely are your branches…

I love Christmas. I love spending time with loved ones, eating all the food & drinking all the drinks. I love choosing gifts that I know people will love. I am sucker for the lot. However, this year I struggled to get in the festive mood. So, last weekend I decided I had to jump start my merry motor & I’m so glad I did. 

I had the pleasure of having my darling friends, Kay & Frankie visiting last week, which offered the perfect opportunity to take in some twinkly Xmas spirit. We hit the market in St Enoch square, took some selfies in the super sparkly Frasers &  wandered under a blanket of lights in Royal Exchange Sq before finishing up in the beautifully bedecked George Sq. My guests were in awe of the architecture, people & especially how friendly Vegan friendly Glasgow is. It’s amazing how easily we Glaswegians forget how lucky we are. Through their eyes I found new pride in both my city & it’s Xmas splendour. 

The obvious next step was to start the Christmas shopping & get my decorations up. I managed the tree in an evening & it  jollied me right up. I prefer a simple scheme when it comes to my tree; this year I stuck with gold & creams tones, but did invest a some new baubles to add to my old favourites. It is amazing the difference some glitter & lights make to my mood. The presents I fear will take a little longer as some of my people are very particular. It’ll be worth it when I find the perfect items. 


My festive visuals have been given a lift this year by the introduction of a gorgeous scent from Isle of Skye Candle co. I absolutely adore their Scot’s pine candle. As a child I had a huge pine tree in my garden and the aroma of pines needles has always conjoured happy memories. The candle is rich with that very smell, but also had undertones of mint, giving it the perfect fresh cold morning feel. I usually opt for heady cinnamon or frankincense type candles during this period. I’m loving the change the change this year.

My final get into Xmas project is more altruistic; it is after all ‘a time for giving’. I have been putting together a hamper for my local food bank & I encourage you to do the same. I’ve included items from the list of required items supplied by the food bank. I also wanted to add some treats as everyone deserves some Christmas cheer. You can find festive chocolate, biscuits etc really cheaply in supermarkets and a few pounds on such thing could give someone a little to smile about. In the same vein I picked up some small inexpensive toys because no child should be without a present on Christmas morning. Likewise no parent should have to explain why Santa hasn’t come. Lastly, I hit the pound shop for toiletries, tampons & cleaning products. So many of us are fortunate enough to be able to indulge at this time of year, I urge you to consider making Christmas a little easier for those not so lucky. 

My plan worked. I am now fully festively onboard. Ho, ho, ho, darlings. 


* Candle was gifted, but all opinions are my own. 

All I can say is I’m breathing…

PTSD is a persistent foe. You can make progress & start to think maybe, just maybe you can actually defeat this bastard, but it knows you think that. 

It’s waiting for you to relax your hyper vigilence. The moment you begin to let go of the breath you’ve been holding for 17yrs it will suck it in & grow.

Folks in your life see you gaining strength & think you’re better. There is no ‘better’.  There is managing ,

coping,

trying to live,

daring to live?

The good days can start to stack up. You can feel a safe distance from the horror, but you can never be sure. 

You can never be certain that a flashback won’t stun you like lightening. 

And stuck in that hot, white memory you could loosen your grip on the here & now.

The relative calm & safety could be shattered. Perhaps only for that instant. You could be lucky, those smells & fears could melt away. Current achievements or delights may well wash over you. It’s possible. That happens. 

You’ll make plans & take steps. But you’ll always be looking over your shoulder. The knowledge of the cruelty of your own mind will keep you rigid.

Because lightening does strike twice & thrice & ever & on.

With every thump of your heart you know you’re only one more squeeze from disaster. Where little sleep becomes none. The crazy creeps out from behind all those positive walls, it brings terror & tsunamis of grief. 

And the pills don’t work

Or Dr’s 

Or the life jacket you had to make with your bare hands. 

There is only one way to row to shore & it’s brutal. It’s hot blood dripping from your fingers; slippy yellow fat & an uncontrollable urge to cut a little deeper. 

Bleed a little more 

Wrapping up the unthinkable pain in the easy hurt of butchering yourself. 

This illness is being  awake in the night & writing so you won’t do. It’s ignoring the destructive comfort because you so desperately want this new, real life. 

And, yes, all those yous should be I’s. 

It’s my past, my pain, my ongoing battle for a future. 


Listen, I’m a really perfect song.

If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.

The mirror has two faces…

Yesterday I performed a fairly miraculous transformation. I was so impressed with myself that I felt the need to share my handy work. 

I posted the above on Facebook with the caption, left to right & out the door in 40 mins. All of which is true, but there’s so much more I didn’t say. 

What I didn’t mention was how I felt. My head was wobbly yesterday. I am titrating Pregabalin slowly up to recommended dose. This is an issue because every time I up the doseage the side effects come back. Hence, my brain was not that sharp. Along with that my anxiety was troubling me. The thought of going out alone was frightening. I was of course sore; my back & feet are a constant source of pain at the moment. So, basically what I’m saying is the first picture is an accurate representation of how I felt as well as how I looked. 

I worried and procastinated for so long that I only had 40 mins to get ready. I forced myself out the door with the aid of diazepam, earphones & big sunglasses. I still felt exposed. I dreaded anyone talking to me or even getting standing too close. I got lucky with an almost entirely empty bus, but my heart was still pounding as loud as the music in my ears for the entire journey. At every stop I had to force myself not to get off & go home. Every bump in road sent a shudder of pain up my back. I persisted because I’d really like to have a real life. 


I met a dear friend who I feel completely safe with. We had a drinks & I managed to relax to level where I could enjoy myself. The weather was lovely, the company excellent & I passed for an attractive human being. 

I’m smiling in this picture because I was having a lovely time. I was still in pain. I’m always in pain. I say that not for pity, but as a fact. For my one evening’s entertainment I’ll probably require two days of rest. Today I am suffering. 


My point is that invisible illnesses are often attacked as not genuine & the weapon used can be anything sufferers manage to do. 

You can’t be that ill if you can work.

You can’t be so ill if you can go out.

You can’t be in pain if you excerise.

You can’t be depressed if you can put make up on.

And on & on & on.

I’m offering myself as an example. Some days are good, but I never feel ‘normal’. There is always pain & anxiety. There are nightmares & flashbacks & urges to butcher my flesh. There are days when I can’t get out of bed & nights of no sleep at all. It’s shit to have to push & push to accomplish everything. We (spoonies) have no alternative, if we want to build a fulfilling life, we have to fight. Wether we’re fighting to wash some dishes or to have some fun with friends we don’t need judgmental bullshit to add to our burden. 
Your reward for reading me venting my frustrations is the cutest cat in the world.

Dirty Old Town….

This week I treated myself to a little Irish adventure. Accompanied by Mum and sister I paid Dublin a flying visit. So, what did 3 Scottish ‘girls’ get up to on the emerald isle? Give me a minute and i’ll tell you all about it.

First stop was of course the GPO on O’Connell St. The building itself is impressive, it’s history even more so. The beautiful structure that housed the birth of modern Ireland still bears the bullet holes. I failed completely to get any decent pictures of the landmark due the sheer volume of people attempting to do the very same thing. In lieu of that I offer you a glimpse of the attractive clock the GPO is adorned with.

IMG_3867

A few feet from the historic landmark stands the Monument of Light (An Tur Solais). The stainless steel sculpture is 398ft high & believe me, it’s an arresting sight. If you stand directly below it up look up, which is exactly what I did, it appears to go on forever. I’m a fan of the juxtaposition of traditional architecture & striking modern art. I highly recommend admiring Dublin’s Spire from the cover of the GPO’s pillared frontage. 

Next we cruised through Georgian Dublin on our way to Trinity College. I have long admired the library at trinity. The prospect of floor to ceiling tomes tickled my book loving fancy. The Longroom is that rare gem that exceeds expectations. I was in awe from my first step into the room. The steep spiral staircases, dark shiny wood, Latin & that unmistakeable book smell were intoxicating. I had found my spiritual home. If it weren’t for all the annoying tourists I would have been in heaven.

Dublin is packed with grand buildings, cool fountains & pretty things that catch your eye. 



The Irish charm flows across the Liffey with an array of bridges. Be they an 80million state of the art construct or the iconic ha’penny bridge. My personal favourite was adorned with horse mermaids. Yes, I said horse mermaids. 

Mum really wanted to visit St Patrick’s cathedral & we of course obliged her. I’ve never caught religion so allowed my Lauren to join her on the tour whilst I admired the floor in the gift shop.


From St Patrick’s we strolled past the Christ Church & headed to perhaps Dublin’s most famous spot, Temple Bar. Temple Bar is exactly as you would expect it to be; vibrant & cool. The streets are packed with street art, funky eateries & of course lots of pubs. 

Mum was lured into THE Temple Bar by the strains of live music. Dublin pubs are much like its people; friendly & boisterous. The Temple Bar was no different. The place was packed & the music (Wild Rover & other familiar tunes) was loud. It also afforded me the rare opportunity of taking a pub selfie with my tee total mum. 




Dublin was a joy. It was just what I needed to perk me up. Watch out Ireland, I’ll be back. 

Cruelty Free Beauty….

I don’t do many beauty reviews. Not because I don’t like them, but because I’m a fairly low maintainance girl & I’m far from an expert. However when I discovered totally cruelty free* cosmetics by Arbonne I really wanted to spread the word. 

So, let’s start spreading. I chose to try their Intelligence Cc Cream first as I was looking for lighter weight coverage for my face. I went for fair as my skin is practically see through. This shade works well for me & can be easily built if you’re looking for fuller coverage.  The cream itself feels very smooth, but is a little thicker than I expected. I think this is simply because I was specifically looking for an everyday ‘no make up’ look. In my case I mixed it with a little vitamin E serum & it was perfect. However, as I previously said it provides deeper coverage just as well.    

  
The cream lives up to it’s multi purpose claims. I use it without a primer with great results. Along with creating an even complexion it also covers blemishes very well, even when used lightly. The cream feels lovely on the skin & creates a fresh, natural look that lasts all day. All in all I’d give it a big thumbs up. I cannot wait to try out more of Arbonne’s products. 

  

You can browse & buy these ethical beauty dreams here.

* botanically based, suitable for vegans & Pets certified animal cruelty free. 

** I was gifted this product, but opinions expressed are all my own.