Does it matter?

This last year or so, I've really lost my blogging mojo.  My entire online mojo really.  I've not blogged as much, I've not been feeling much like writing and when I have, I've not been too sure what to write.  Or I've felt that I've just churned something out and it's not really been worth it.. I've let the social media side of things drop.  I struggle to keep up with it.  I find myself wondering how other parent bloggers manage it.  How?  How are you on twitter and Instagram and Facebook so much and still attending to your children?  I'm not criticising at all, I'm genuinely curious - is there something I'm missing or is it that my children are just very demanding of my time and energy?

Certainly, there is something in that last point.  Felix started at preschool this September and one of the things the staff there have said to me over and over again is, how do I manage with Felix?  I've been asked countless times, "What can you do to get Felix to sit still for longer than one minute?  Does he ever sit still?"..  I have to tell them, truthfully, nothing really makes Felix sit down.  About the only thing would be his bottle of milk and I know, I KNOW that ideally a three year old should not be drinking milk from a bottle, but it is the only time I can be sure (mostly) that he'll stay in one place.  He's been the same since the moment he was born.  On the go.  All of the time.  He never wants to stop.  I'm sure it's one of the reasons he's always leaving it beyond the last minute to get to the loo despite being out of daytime nappies since his 2nd birthday.  I'll never forget the day he rolled over for the first time.  He was 3 days old.  Yes.  You read that correctly, 3 DAYS old.  He needed a nappy changing and I'd placed him on the changing mat on the floor.  I didn't have something to hand, wipes probably, so I asked Ethan to keep an eye on him and I left the room to get them.  As I left the room, Ethan piped up "Will he be ok on the floor?" and I answered "Yes! He's 3 days old he can't go anywhere!".  You know what I found when I came back in, don't you.  He had been on his back when I left and he was on his front when I came in.  With his head and neck fully lifted.  He was able to hold his head from birth too.  There's no way Ethan moved him.  He was still sat in the same placed glued to the ipad.  He'd not moved, that much was clear (and Ethan avoids contact with his brother at all costs, even from birth, but that's another story...).  Felix did the same the following day and I got photographic evidence.  Anyway, it's by the by, the point is, he's a fidget bum and always has been.  What I'm trying to illustrate here is that there is no doubt Felix is a high energy tired and I do think that after 7 years of being a stay at home Mum and 3.5 years of being a Mum to Felix I am rather worn down and demotivated.

Back in 2012 my blog was doing quite well for itself.  My readership was growing, I had a good growing following on Twitter, Instagram and Facebook.  I got comments on almost all my blog posts, not just the ones that were added to linkys.  I held two of my own linkys each week one of which was really quite successful.  I was nominated for quite a few blog awards and shortlisted for a couple.. But I would say that after the birth of Felix in 2013 it all tailed off.  I found it hard to get to get back into, I was shattered.  And in those few months my readership fell away and other blogs sprung up left, right and centre.  Some of those blogs are deservedly huge now, like Hannah of Make, Do and Push.  Her blog is doing amazingly and I know she works very very hard at it.  So it is very deserved.

All of this leaves me in this weird place now.  Sometimes I feel sad about my blog.  Like I've let it die.  Other times I don't care and think life would be easier if I'd just let it die totally and get on with living in the "real" world.  I feel like I've let myself down though.  I feel, like I do with many things in my life, like I've given up on it.  Like I'm just not quite good enough and really, what's the point?  I don't know.  I've had friends and some readers tell me my writing is good.  My photos on Instagram are good.  But I don't know.  Is it just an over-saturated market?  Should I just gracefully bow out?  I'm just not sure......

Dropping the night feed - Night Two

Two nights down... but in that time, I've had less than one good nights sleep.  Woe.

How did last night go?  Well, it was made a lot harder by the fact that Ethan came home from school feeling very poorly.  The poor sole.  When I arrived to pick him up at the end of the school day he was beside himself, crying, sobbing and almost inconsolable.  He was complaining of a sore throat and a painful mouth.  I don't think it's the Hand, Foot & Mouth that Felix has had (though goodness knows because I've read that some children have it but don't display any of the traditional signs, they may just have a temperature, none of the rashes).  I think it's a bog standard cold/virus.  The trouble with my two is that as soon as they have a hint of illness their temperatures spike and they get very feverish.

Ethan calmed down when I got him home and got some calpol into him and he went to bed happily enough.  However, he woke up at 3am asking if he could have a wheat bag warmed up because he was freezing cold (his temperature indicated otherwise, but you know what fevers are like!).  I then spent two hours with him getting him back to sleep.  In the end he settled in bed with us and dropped off around 5am.  I tried to get to sleep and was just feeling drowsy when Felix woke at 5:30 am.  Pete went into him and offered him some water and a little cuddle.  He then left his room..

..cue 15 minutes of crying and grumbling.... As I'd been awake for quite a while at this point and I didn't want Ethan being woken again I decided to go in to Felix and try to calm him down a little.  I picked him up, gave him some more water and then sat with him in his chair for a while, cuddling him.  Once I felt he was calm, after about 10 minutes, I placed him back in his cot and rubbed his back for a few minutes.  I then left the room.  Unsurprisingly he kicked up a fuss but it wasn't like before and was really more of a grumble.

He carried on intermittently grumbling and chatting to himself until around 7am.  We were all starting to get drowsy again and on the verge of dropping off when Pete's alarm went off.. as it's Saturday and none of us work weekends there was no need for us to be woken up at 7am so this was rather unfortunate.  We think he put it on by mistake last night.. an autopilot thing!  Felix heard the alarm and of course, he associates it with "time to get up" so that was that really.  Time to start the day.  I'd been awake since 3am again!

Pete has taken Felix out for the day which is a blessing.  Ethan obviously isn't feeling up to doing anything, and needs to rest at home.  I'm looking after him.  It's quite nice really.  Obviously it's not the ideal way to spend time with your child, I don't like having ill children but I do enjoy spending time one on one with Ethan, especially since he started school.  We've been snuggling up on the sofa, eating home made rocky road (I had the ingredients in the cupboard and it's so easy to make!) and we've watched Elf.

Let's see what tonight brings!!  I'm hoping Ethan is well enough to sleep through which will hopefully mean I don't get tag teamed by the monkeys and get a bit more than 3 or 4 hours sleep.

Anyone else out there going through this just now?

Dropping the night feed - Night One.

If you've read some of my recent posts, you'll be well aware of the fact that Felix does not sleep through at over 17 months old, apart from on 6 magical and random nights.  Every night he wakes at some point, it could be at any time from 1am - 5am and we've always gone in to him and given him a bottle of milk and settled him back down.

Until about 14 months old this wasn't too much of an issue.  He'd wake for his feed, one of us would pop in with the milk, feed him and then put him down again.  The feed would take about 10-15 minutes and often he'd fall asleep during it.  After putting him back in his cot whoever was feeding him would head back to bed and sleep on.  This was fine.  However,about three months ago, this pattern changed.  His feeds started taking a LOOOOOOOOONG time.  He'd be taking 45 minutes or more to drink the bottle.  Our reaction to this was to start just giving him the bottle in his cot and leaving him to it.  Not perfect, but it meant he was happy and we all got back to sleep.  Sorted.

And then... it wasn't sorted.  Not any more.  No.  About 6 weeks ago, Felix started happily drinking his milk in his cot but not falling asleep.  No, after the feed, he'd stay awake and start kicking up a fuss in his cot.  He wasn't screaming or super upset, he'd grumble, cry a bit, moan, go quiet, cry for a minute or two, moan, chat to himself, go quiet, cry, moan.  This would go on for up to two hours.  We're not sure why this started happening.  A wonder week?  A growth spurt?  Teething?  Either way, it was happening and it didn't stop.

The trouble is that when Felix is awake, I am awake.  I am sensitive to every move and sound he makes.  I've never needed to use a baby monitor, I've always woken up for both of my boys.  Often I wake just before they do, like some kind of sixth sense.  If he's crying and moaning, it's even worse.  Going in to him didn't seem to help.  What he really wanted was to fall asleep lying on me and be transferred to his cot... but this isn't a solution for us.

Everyone's sleep has been affected by these night wakings.  Ethan has been woken several times.  Often what happens is that Felix will wake at about 4am, be awake and making noise until about 6am at which point he'll drop off and Ethan will wake up.

For the last few weeks I've felt like the walking dead.  Normally I am a night owl, for years I've not gone to bed later earlier than midnight.  Sometimes I would work on my blog until 1 or 2am once a week.  I can no longer do this.  Most nights I am now in bed by 9:30-10pm which is super early for me.  I feel like I am surviving life rather than living it.  I am constantly tired and yawning.  I feel like everything is suffering.  I don't have the time or energy that I'd like for my blog.  I feel sluggish and don't feel like I have the brainpower or energy to deal with my boys.

I've had enough.  After a discussion with Pete, we've decided to try to cut the night feed out.  It's not helping Felix get back to sleep any more.  He's 17 months old, he really shouldn't need to have 7oz of milk to get him through the night.  We've tried watering it down in an attempt to make it not worth waking up for, but that hasn't worked.  We decided it was time to go cold turkey.  Just not give him a feed.

Last night, Thursday night, we decided to do it.  No night feed!! So, what happened?

Well... it was pretty tiring, I can tell you that much!  Felix woke at 3am.  I went in to him.  I picked him up, gave him a few sips of water from his water bottle and gave him a quick cuddle,  I then placed him back in his cot and patted him on the back for a minute.  Then I left the room..

At first, he was quiet.. but only for a minute or two.  He cried a bit, then called out for me.  He spent a good why calling:

"Mummy! Mummy! Cuggle!!! Cuggle!".

Then he'd go quiet for a bit.

He cried and grumbled on and off for an hour and a half.  I didn't go back in to him because I felt he never reached the point of true upset.  Don't get me wrong, I don't like hearing him crying and calling out for me.  It's horrible.  But at the same time, for my sanity, I need him to sleep so I can sleep.

After an hour and a half he spent 15 minutes quietly chatting to himself and then, a little while before 5am he fell asleep again.

I never fell asleep again.  I am sitting here typing this feeling even more exhausted than ever after 3 and a half hours sleep.  Big boo :-(

I am hoping, praying even, that tonight, when he wakes (and I have no doubt he will wake) that he doesn't take quite so long to go back to sleep.  I hope that I'm doing the right thing.  I'm already on medication for anxiety.  I really REALLY need to be able to sleep properly again.  I have had enough and I feel very worn down and low.

Back on the pills..

It's no secret I've been struggling in the last few weeks.  I've written about it a few times.  I had an appointment with the Dr this week, I'd decided it was time for action.

For the last 5 years I've been on and off medication for anxiety and PND.  Every time I come off them I feel somehow this will be the time I'll manage to cope, to not have to go back on them again.  Really, I shouldn't care.  If someone is diabetic, they take the medication they need to be healthy.  It should be the same for people with mental health problems.. and yet somehow, it isn't.  There is still a part of me that feels I "should" be able to cope without medication.  After all, exactly what is it about my life that is so hard?

Enough.

I really need to learn how to relax.  How to accept who I am.  To lean to do nothing.  It's good to want to be motivated, to work hard, but right now I have two young children, one of whom doesn't sleep though the night and sometimes only naps for 20 minutes a day.  I have very little time to myself.  Even blogging is hard to fit in.

Back to my Doctors appointment.  I explained how I've been feeling, but it was a forgone conclusion really, I was going to go back on medication.  I wouldn't have made the appointment if I didn't want to go back on them.  This time I'm trying Setraline.  Previously I've been prescribed Citaolpram and whilst I think it helped me, it never completely rid me of that nervous anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach.  I thought it would be worth seeing if something else would do a better job for me and the doc agreed.

I took my first pill this morning.  I must admit I was a bit scared.  First of all, there's the knowledge that once you start the pills there is a likelihood that you will feel worse for the first 2 weeks.  Beyond that, it can take up to 6 weeks before you feel any better.  Whilst it's good to know that I should start to feel better in the long run, it's scary to know I might well feel worse first.  Then, there's the other side effects that tend to be worse in the first few weeks; nausea, insomnia, dizziness, feeling spaced out.  I've suffered from these before when starting to take citalopram so I know there's a chance this may be the case again.  The thought of having to carry on looking after the boys whilst feeling like this is worrying....

Day one is nearly over.  So far, I've not felt too much in the way of side effects.  I've felt some nausea but it eased when I ate.  I feel tired, but that's not surprising as I'm only managing about 4 hours sleep at night just now anyway...  I feel good that I've taken the first pill.  It's the first step to feeling better again I hope.

Being a stay at home parent is HARD.

I've been a stay at home Mum for over 5 years now and do you know what? It's hard.  Bloody hard.  Being a parent is hard full stop, but there's another element to being a stay at home parent.  Somehow, it's like you loose your identity.  You are Mum (or Dad) and that's about it.  Teachers will refer to you as Mum.  The dentist will refer to you as Mum.  Strangers in the street will refer to you as Mum.  Your own bloody Mum will refer to you as Mum.

Mum.

MUM,


EFFING BLOODY MUM.
Please, don't get me wrong, I love being Mum to my boys (or Mama as they call me).  It truly is the best and most rewarding thing I've ever done.  I don't regret it.  I'm just finding it hard.

I've always found being a Mum hard.  Having PND after having Ethan was the first hurdle.  Beyond that, I've always been an anxious person and so I find the day to day life of looking after first one and now two boys stressful.

Sometimes I think to myself, just what is it exactly that I'm finding stressful?  I don't get paid for what I do, I don't have a boss or have get a report in on time.  But when I evaluate each moment of the day, I find that it is full of stress.  Full of worry.  And I never go home from the job.  I can't even pee in peace.  Weekends, whilst being lovely family time, are no break.  My kids are my colleagues and they are always there.  They even come on bloody holiday with me - the cheek!!

Every day my head is reeling, I'm obsessing over somehow finding the "perfect" way to make my day with the boys somehow run like clockwork.  In my head life is a puzzle and I just need to find the right formula to achieve perfection.  But these are children I'm dealing with, little people.  They aren't going to conform!  It's like every day I get up and set myself up for failure and at the end of the day go to bed with my head held low, shameful after my day of underachievement.

Logically I know that trying to achieve perfection is ridiculous, especially when it comes to looking after children!  My day is boringly predictable yet at the same time impossible to predict.  What time will Felix nap?  Will he eat his food today or chuck it on the floor?  Will Ethan be happy when I pick him up from school?  Will anyone sleep through the night?

It's all so mundane.

That sounds contrite... Again, let me reiterate.  I love my children.  I love being able to bring them up but my God, I truly never realized how hard it was going to be.  I've dedicated my life to them and I still don't feel it's enough.  That I'm enough.

My husband says to me I need to relax more.  Do less.  Even the blog.  I love this blog.  I am amazed that people read and comment.  It's a lifeline for me.. but at times, it's also a bind.  I feel pressure to publish posts, to have something to say.  I know that in order to be able to cope with the days looking after the boys I need to have downtime in the evening where I do nothing much beyond vegging in front of the TV or reading a book.. but the trouble is the voice in my head.

It says:

"If ALL you do is look after kids and watch TV, who are you?  What is your worth?  What defines you?  You really are JUST Mum".

I spend much of my day fantasising about the future.  Or the past.  I sometimes even fantasise about the terrible job I had before I had Ethan.  The mind numbingly boring, tedious and pretty much pointless admin role I held.  God, that job used to drive me to distraction, it was so boring... but oh!  The thought of just being able to complete a task without interruption.  Or complete something full stop.  Or not have to do something at 1am because it was the only quiet time available.

What's the answer?  I don't know.  Maybe I'm not cut out for this stay at home Mum malarky.  But I just don't know what else I'd do!  What job could I get that would fit around school hours and pay enough to cover childcare costs?  Truthfully, I don't so much want to go back to work, I want to enjoy what I'm doing.  I want it to be as fulfilling as we're told it will be.  I'd like to have the time to dedicate to my blog, to see if I could really make it go places.  To make some money out of doing something I love would be amazing!

I know that lack of sleep and anxiety feed off each other and that as my boys aren't the best sleepers, I'm very susceptible to low mood due to sleep deprivation.  I'm going back to the Drs next week.  It might be time to go back on the pills.

That's another thing.  When I admit to myself that I'm not coping, that maybe I need something else to help me through these tough toddler days, my head very helpfully holds a Stones gig in my head, the opening song being Mothers Little Helper:

"Kids are different today", I hear every mother say

Mother needs something today to calm her down

And though she's not really ill, there's a little yellow pill

She goes running for the shelter of a mother's little helper

And it helps her on her way, gets her through her busy day"

Helpful, hey?  Honestly, I'm my own worst enemy.

Never good enough? What it's like to be a worrier and tips for coping:

I never feel good enough. I know I'm not the only one. Why? Why is it we feel like this? Does anyone know the answer? Is there anyone out there who is truly happy with themselves and what they achieve? Is this a state only reached after years of counseling?

I know that a certain amount of not being satisfied is good. After all, without that we'd never strive to improve and achieve. 

I seem to live in a permanent state of never feeling good enough.  I go from one worry to the next, always giving myself something new to fret over, always giving myself doubts in my ability. Sometimes I just want to bash my head in. From the moment I wake in the morning to the moment I fall asleep (and in between due to the tag team interruptions from the boys in the night) it's nagging at me:

"What are you going to feed the boys today? Is it healthy? You're planning beans on toast for tea?! My God you're a shit Mum! You should have fitted in time to make a homemade casserole!"

"Is Ethan too short?"

"How will Ethan cope with his school dinner?"

"How are you going to fit Felix's nap in today?"

There really seems to be no limit to my worry.  I've erred on the anxious my whole life.  Even as a child I remember worrying, about school work, about friends, about the safety of myself and my family.  I remember age six sleeping with a packed suitcase under my bed each night which included spare clothes, favorite toys and some books.  I kept it there in case there was a fire; I would be able to grab it before getting out.  I had also planned the safest escape route for the entire family.  For some reason I felt that it was my responsibility to get everyone out!  Fast forward to shortly after Ethan's birth over 5 years ago, one of the stupid worries I had running around my head was how on earth I would deal with packed lunches for him at school.. when I had a newborn to look after, this was just one of the extra silly things I gave myself to worry about on top of everything else!

Becoming a parent does mean extra worry.  Being a stay at home parent, even more so, I suspect.  Without a work place in which you become someone other than Mum or Dad for a few hours, your whole life revolves around your child/ren and house.  Your house almost feels like your office.  After all, it's your base.  It can be very very hard to gain perspective.

I've spoken to a lot of my stay at home Mum friends and I know many of them feel the same.  Though I feel we all worry to different degrees.

How can we cope with all of this?  Well, for me, it's a case of constant evaluation.  Because I've suffered with anxiety for most of my life, I have to look out for signs that it's going beyond normal and more into the realm of requiring medication.  However, there are some things that I do to help myself to hopefully avoid this and these are things that help all of us in these situations:

1) See friends and talk:

I really think this is just about the most important step you can take to help yourself step off the worry train.  Just a few minutes (preferably longer if children will allow!) talking with other parents will ease your burden.  Soon you will realize that they too are worrying about just how much their child has eaten.  They will confide in you that no, Jack doesn't actually sleep through the night, he climbs into their bed. You can trade horror stories, worries, concerns. It's corny, but it's true, a problem shared is a problem halved.  Just by vocalising your worries it takes some of power away from them.

2) Exercise:

Walk.  Push the pram.  Put your child in a creche if you can and do a class.  You don't need me to tell you that exercise is good for you.  It releases those lovely endorfins we all benefit from.  I can tell you first hand this works.  I start Monday morning stressed to the hilt.  The whole week is ahead, I'm missing the weekend, missing having my husband with me, worrying about how I'm going to fit everything in.  At 9:30 am I put Felix in the creche at my local leisure centre and I do a class.  Whilst I'm in that class I physically cannot worry about anything.  I'm too busy sweating and trying to keep up.  After the class I find half of the things I've been worrying about have left my head, or their significance is greatly reduced.  Plus, I feel good about myself.  I feel fit and healthy.   I also feel good because Felix has had some time playing and socialising with other children, something I feel benefits him.

3) Set aside some "me" time:

I know.. I know. You feel you haven't got time.  If you can though, even just two hours a week, just setting aside a slot in your week where you do something for you can made heaps of difference.  This could be the exercise class! Hell, kill two bird with one stone why not,  you multitasking mutha!  Perhaps you've always wanted to learn to knit?  Find a local class.  Sign up.  Go out for a drink with a friend.

Take a break!

4) Set aside "time off":

This is something I am learning to do.  I'm someone who's guilty of always trying to do too much (see the above about never feeling good enough!).  If we give ourselves too much to do, the chances are we end up doing most things badly, or at least, not to our standards.  It is SO important to switch off, do do NOTHING.  Sit in a chair in the dark.  Listen to the radio.  Sit in the garden and listen to the birds.  Put the phone and laptop away.  This leads me on to no 5:

5) Make a schedule:

This is something for the list makers out there.  Chances are, if you're a worrier, you probably also enjoy a good list!  To help myself focus on what needs to be done during the week, to fit in my exercise, blogging time and "doing nothing" time I made a schedule.  I was suffering with the feeling that I ought to be blogging/emailing/sorting things out any time I had a second where I wasn't with a child.  It was starting to make me feel very stressed and, to be honest, quite unhinged.  I decided to schedule my week, even though I was skeptical, and it's worked!  I now know which evenings I'm going to blog.  I have my exercise classes planned in.  I've organised a monthly meet up with friends so I have something to look forward to and guaranteed time to talk.  I also have very important evenings where there is nothing booked in.  All I do on those evenings now is take it easy.  I chat with the husband.  I watch TV.  I read my book.  I don't get my laptop out.  It's hard, but it's worth it.

Those are my top 5 tips for feeling better about yourself and reducing the worry in your life.  My worried never completely go away, as does my anxiety.  But I know that doing all of the above, I feel better.  Not all of the time, but some of the time.  And that is better!

Existing, not living..

Some periods in life are a struggle.  For the last five or six weeks we've had a tricky time.  We are so SO lucky in so many ways and I know that.  Our boys are healthy happy lads, we don't suffer from any serious illnesses or disabilities, our families are close by, we have friends.  However, there are times when none of that seems to lift your spirits.. and the last few weeks have been one of those times.

Illness.  Our family seems to have been ill almost constantly this year, especially Felix.  I can promise you that I am not exaggerating when I say we have mere days between illnesses.  If Felix isn't ill, he's teething.  He's cut nearly 18 teeth now, that's more than one tooth for every month he been alive!

Mental health.  Mine has been struggling of late.  I can't imagine that you don't know, but the reason this blog is called "Medicated" Follower of Fashion is because when I started this blog I was recovering from PND and was taking citalopram.  Over the last 5 years I have come on and off medication.  I most recently came off medication in May this year and since then I have been constantly evaluating how I'm feeling.  This in itself isn't helpful to mental health.  To be constantly analysing myself, constantly wondering if what I'm feeling is "normal" or abnormal.  Wondering if coming off the medication was the right choice.

With the last few weeks being so hard, it's especially trying on my mind and spirit.  I've got to point where I have to take each day hour by hour.  Sometimes I think I'm going to have to get myself straight to the doctor.  Some days are better.  I've been receiving great support from my local Health Visitor team which I'm hugely grateful for.  I am an anxious person and constant illness and loss of sleep has a huge effect on me.  I've been suffering from low moods, doubting negative thoughts, huge self doubt.  For now I've decided to stay off the meds, but as I say, I'm taking things hour by hour and if I feel that changes, I know just what to do.

All in all, I feel that at the moment I am existing.  Surviving.  I don't truly feel I am living.  I don't always feel very present in the moment, often I'm caught up in an anxious cycle, trying to figure out exactly how my day will pan out, planning and planning and feeling panicked until I know exactly what I'll be doing.

I don't like feeling like this... but I suspect that whilst Felix is still so young and so susceptible to illness, this may well just be how it's going to be for a while.  It seems awful but I tend to focus on a year from now.  This time next year I'll have a toddler who well on his way to being two and a half.  Two years from now he'll be in preschool.  Three years from now he'll be at school.  Time will fly by.  I don't want to wish it past, I want to be in the moment, enjoy him, hold him, know it won't last forever, but at the same time I need to focus on the future.

My blog is suffering a little at the moment I feel.  I love my blog and I'm so proud of it but I'm having to hold back a bit.   I just don't have the energy to work on it until 1 am several nights a week like I was a few months ago.   The summer holidays and a string of illnesses have sapped some of the joy for me.

If my posts are a little sporadic, if I don't reply to comments quickly, if I'm not tweeting much, this is why.  I don't know how some parent bloggers manage to write as much as they do and take part in so much social media, but I just know I can't compete on that level.  Not unless I want a breakdown.

Tell me I'm not the only one who feels like this sometimes?

A shout out to my friend - we are ALL in this together!

Last night, as usual, I was tapping away on my laptop at gone midnight, looking at the time, telling myself I must get to bed, when an email pinged into my in box.  It was from Maria of Very Busy Mama fame about the linky #RealMomStyle which she hosts along with a few other style mummy bloggers.  Nothing unusual in that per say, but this week, Maria wanted to let everyone know just what she has been going through lately. Something that really is very real.

I wrote a couple of weeks ago about my experiences of anxiety and depression.  Maria replied to that post and mentioned that she had been experiencing similar.  She was not the only one to get in touch, in fact, friends and other bloggers have been in touch since I wrote it, thanking me for my honesty and sharing their experiences.  We are so not alone in all of this.  Once you start to talk about it honestly, you realize this.

Unfortunately for Maria, it all came to a head when she was alone in San Fran last week.  She ended up having some terrible panic attacks and had to go to hospital, all on her own.  I really feel terrible that she is going through all of this at the moment.  Maria was very brave and posted an extremely honest video of herself talking about what she is going through on her blog and I have to say I found it very hard to watch.  Because I experience anxiety myself, hearing someone else describing what they are going through unfortunately is quite a trigger for me so I do have to be careful.  But the thing is Maria, I couldn't not write some sort of reply to you.  I know we've never met in person and only chatted on Skype once, but I feel we are friends and my heart just goes out to you.  I am so glad that you are seeking help now.

Once again, anyone reading, if you are experiencing anxiety or depression, try if you can to speak up.  We really are all in this together.

Describing Anxiety

Mental health.  Little by little it is becoming more acceptable to talk about it.  Good.  That's what we need.  Most of us go about our day to day life wrapped up in whatever we are dealing with and incorrectly believing that we are the only ones who "can't cope".  It's just not true.  If you are ever actually able to have an honest conversation with friends and neighbours you may well find out that it isn't just you.  You aren't alone.  There are SO MANY of us suffering in silence with various mental health issues and we don't need to.

Talking about it really helps.  Finding someone else who understands is amazing.  Sharing those feelings, even though it may not take them away, helps a little.  I know I always feel boosted by a conversation with someone who understands.

I have always been quite honest on my blog.  That's why it's called Medicated Follower of Fashion.  During my life I have suffered with anxiety, depression and Post Natal Depression after the birth of Ethan.  I write about what I have experienced here in the hope that it might help others, that it might encourage them to talk or seek help.  Since sharing my experiences with friends I have discovered that I am by no means the only one taking medication to help.  AND THERE IS NO SHAME IN THIS.

One of the hardest things to deal with is when people don't understand.  This is something you will unfortunately come across.  Some people are just made differently.  They have never had depressive periods, negative thoughts, compulsions, low self esteem.  They just aren't built that way and just can't comprehend it.  It can be really tough when you try to explain how you feel to these people.  It's especially hard when these are people who are close to you.  I have first hand experience of this and I'm afraid my way of coping with this has been to stop fully expressing myself to these people.  Perhaps it's not the right way to go about it, but to be honest, if I'm going through a low anxious stage, I'm not going to help myself by flogging the dead horse that is trying to get across how I feel to those who can't understand.

I cope by reaching out to those that do.  There are many people out there who are a lifeline to me, both online and in "real life".  To those people, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.  Anyone reading who is suffering and doesn't have that lifeline, I urge you to try to find someone to speak to. It doesn't have to be a face to face conversation, there are so many support networks online.  Even just commenting here.

Overall, the condition I've suffered the longest with is anxiety.  I've had it to different degrees for as long as I can remember, even as a child.  There are various things that exacerbate it; lack of sleep, PMT, not having enough time to myself..

What does anxiety feel like?  Well, I can only describe how I feel it.  To me, it feels a little like hunger.  That gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach. Feeling like you've had too much sugar or caffeine.  A clenched jaw.  Despite medication, it's very rare the feeling ever completely leaves me.  I  worry about anything you can think of and get stressed over things causing me to plan things to a ridiculous degree.  To give you an example, shortly after Ethan was born I drove myself into a severe panic because I was worrying how I would ever find the time to make him a packed lunch whilst he started school.  I was obsessively planning in my head how I'd manage it.  He was days old.

How do I cope?  Well, firstly, I take citalopram.  This does level out my feelings.  Not completely.  I always get worse in the days leading up to my period (I feel very unhinged then) and during really stressful times such as when both of the boys are ill and I'm not sleeping.

I have been on a course with others who suffer similar feelings and have become much better at recognising when I am becoming worse.  When I recognise my feelings are "abnormal" it allows me to be a little more objective.  I listen to the feeling and then tell myself that it isn't true.  It doesn't always work but it helps. I can still feel the anxiety but it's unfounded.  It takes a little of the pressure off.

I try to up my sleep and "me time" when I suffer.  Having a break from the boys is essential for my mental health.  It's a constant balancing act though.

Why am I writing this today?  Well, I'm not particularly suffering today, actually, I'm pretty good at present, but I thought it was worth writing down and sharing.  Just in case it helps someone.

Please, if you are reading this and suffering, comment.  It may help.  Know you are NOT alone.

31 weeks - anxious, tense, stressed. Is this normal?

So... 31 weeks.  I suppose you could say I'm on the home run now.. At most it'll be 11 weeks until baby is here.  Could be sooner I suppose!

I want to write a little about how I'm feeling today.  When I first started this blog back in 2009 it was a mishmash of all sorts of things, day to day life, dealing with PND, the struggles and ups and downs of parenthood, fashion and style for Mum's and children.  These days I realise my blog is more focussed on fashion and style, both women's and children's and generally that's just fine, it's good to have a niche.  However, this is my blog and there will be times when actually, I don't want to write about what I'm wearing or what Ethan has been wearing.  Today is one of those days I'm afraid, so please, do bear with me!

There is a reason this blog is called Medicated Follower of Fashion.  If you don't know the history, shortly after Ethan was born I suffered from a great deal of anxiety and depression.  I wasn't coping and was diagnosed with PND.  I took medication for this on and off and only came off my anxiety medication when I became pregnant with baby 2.  So yes, Medicated Follower of Fashion - the medicated comes from anxiety medication and obviously it's a play on Dedicated Follower of Fashion, the song by The Kinks.

I've ummed and ahhhhed about posting this here, but it's the truth, this is how I'm feeling.  Brace yourself, this might be a bit of a brain dump.

I feel I'm struggling quite a bit. I'm getting myself all overwhelmed probably because I'm becoming more introverted. I don't know what to put it down to but in the last week I've felt more and more anxious. Generally, since coming off medication I've felt that I've been coping quite well. Yes, the odd anxious moment but nothing too out of control. Over the last week this has changed. Only two weeks ago I had a consultant appointment at the hospital to see how I was coping anxiety/depression wise and I was genuinely feeling good so that's what I said. I've definitely noticed a change though. I really don't know how to explain it.

It could just be the pregnancy hormones I suppose. I feel tense, irritable, stressed and anxious almost all the time now. The only time it truly abates is when I am entirely on my own doing something pleasant like reading a book. Or maybe if I'm with a group of friends (which isn't that often at the moment). Basically, any time when I feel absolved of responsibility to anyone or anything. As soon as Ethan is with me or Pete comes home from work I feel on edge. I don't want to be touched at all at the moment so when poor Pete comes home from work I feel on edge because I know I'll be touched and I don't want to be. He knows how I don't like being touched at the moment so bless him, he tries not to, but he's a good husband and he just wants to touch my bump, or give me a hug and a kiss. I know I'm pushing him away, and feeling bad about that makes me feel worse again.

As soon as I'm with Ethan I feel stressed and anxious. Everything just gets me all tense, like helping him get dressed, getting him ready for school, walking him to school, feeding him, the constant battles because he won't come when I call him, is really slow going to and from school, the fact he's stopped eating so many things, it all just seems like one battle after another. I know that's all completely normal but I'm finding it hard to cope with.

Then there's the fact that I'm 31+2 now and in only a matter of weeks there will be a newborn with us. I keep telling myself I can cope. It'll be OK. It won't be like last time. But still, just the thought of trying to get Ethan to preschool on time gets me stressed. We barely manage it at the moment!! How the hell am I going to do it with a newborn in tow?

I know my OCD type issues are getting worse. I constantly see things that are "imperfect" with the house, a speck on the floor, a messy sink, a fingerprint on a door handle and these are starting to weigh me down.  Maybe that's nesting in overdrive? I'm not sure!! It's hard not to get over analytical about these things!

I'm really not sure what to do. Is this all just because I'm pregnant? This hasn't been the easiest pregnancy, I've had so many symptoms and I know that physically not feeling my best is having a huge impact on my mood, so that could be a big part of it. I'm not getting much socialisation in these days. I think that's partly pregnancy and partly because Ethan is at preschool now. Last year we went to playgroups and other activities. I used to see my antenatal group friends several times each week, either there or for coffee or meeting up at each others houses and although we always had the children with us, we did get to chat a bit. These days I might see them for a few minutes in passing as we drop the children at preschool. We still meet when we can, mostly still on a Wednesday as before, but we don't have the car on a Wednesday, which used to be fine when I could walk no problem, but now I'm restricted with how much physical activity I can do in a day, so quite often we miss out on the Wednesday gathering. So, at the moment, it's not uncommon for me to go a whole week without really properly seeing anyone or chatting to anyone other than Pete and Ethan. I know that won't be helping things.

By far the most worrying thing, I think, is that people keep asking me if I'm excited now that baby is so close. Honestly? No. I'm fucking scared and worried I've made the worst decision of my life. That about sums up how I feel about his impending birth!  I feel terrible about that.  I know I will love this baby.  I love Ethan with my whole heart, I've never loved anything or anyone as much as I love that little boy and I know despite all my concerns I will love this new baby.  I know what a hard journey that was the first time though. The thought of facing it all again is scaring me.

I wanted to write a positive pregnancy post this week, I want to write about planning my home birth.. but this is how I am feeling at the moment, so I'm afraid this is what I need to write about.

Thanks for bearing with me, readers! x

I'm scared..

I'm scared and I need to talk about it... I know some of you probably don't know how to take my blog so I apologise for that.  I'm sure some of you come along for toddler and mummy fashion inspiration and find that you're wading through a few posts about my anxiety and depression.  The thing is, this is me.  This blog is a representation of me.  I'm honest here.  I don't exaggerate and I don't hide anything.  I love fashion and clothes and dressing Ethan is one of my biggest pleasures in life... But the other overwhelmingly large part if me is anxiety, depression and fear.  I think that's why the title of my blog is so appropriate.
Anyway.. I'm not scared about all that, just sorry if sometimes my blog is a confusing one...

I'm scared to have another baby.  It petrifies me.  I'm waiting for my period at the moment and whilst I'm sure I'm not pregnant it makes me think about the possibility.  And let me tell you.  If I found out I were pregnant today I would not cry tears of happiness.. but I would cry.

I know many people who have and are having a hard time getting pregnant, both in real life and online and I know how hard it is for them to hear me harping on about how I feel about it. So I try to monitor what I say. The thing is whilst I sympathise massively what they go through (and I really do.  I hate to see people going through that and it does give me perspective) it doesn't mean my thoughts and feelings aren't valid.
I can't help it.  Sometimes I think if it were just up to me, I'd stick at one.  My little man.  I adore him.  But I find it all very hard work. 

It's not just me though.  Hubby wants another.  I think Ethan would benefit from a sibling.  And what if we stuck at one and I reverted it when it was too late?  I don't want a 15 year age gap or something like that either.

Ethan will be 3 in July.  At first we were thinking we'd try for another this Sept. but I've already postponed that until next Jan.  I want him in school full time at least until I have another.  Even that scares me though.  In some ways it'd be nice to say ok! Just the one child for us! Now he's in school I can go and get a job and carve out q bit more time for me again.. but no.  It'll be all sleepless nights, constant feeding and bleeding nipples all over again.

I'm so scared it'll be the same or worse.  The PND.  The sleep deprivation.  The anxiety.  Am I strong enough to do that again?  No matter how many times I get told it won't be the same, a little voice tells me it will be.  Or worse.

Seconds after birth... you can see the fear in my eyes....that is not a happy Mama!

Have you ever seen a photo showing love and happiness in the eyes as clearly as this? My Dad with Ethan.

Again, pure love and joy in the eyes.  Mother in law with Ethan.

I know so few people who feel this way.  I can think of two maybe, and they are both online friends.  Apart from my mum and sometimes Hubby I can't really talk to anyone about this.
I'd love to know if I'm not the only one.

My journey down the rabbit hole..

Snoo & Me has talked a lot recently about her struggles with depression, and it's made me think that I've never really given enough blog space to my own struggle.

I suppose these days I can consider myself out of the worst of it.  Of course, I never know when the black dog may be back again, scratching at the door in my mind...

PND was not my first brush with depression.  I personally believe I've suffered with it throughout my life.  I was diagnosed with depression before, sometime in 2005 I think.  It's hard to remember now.  I took time off work and had counselling but didn't take medication.  I was too scared to try it.  The counselling helped.  I changed what was wrong in my life.  Things improved.

Having a history of depression does seemed to be linked to the likelihood of being diagnosed with PND.  On top of depression, I am a naturally anxious person with very strong OCD tenancies when under pressure and stress.  I don't use the term OCD lightly.  When times are bad I have been known to keep a record book with the measurements between things in rooms to make sure they are in their "correct" position and haven't been moved.  At best, I like things tidy and in their place.  At worst, I won't be able to sit and relax for moving things around and making sure they "look right".

I remember being anxious as a child.  I worried.  I remember not being able to sleep for worrying.  I worried about homework.  It didn't help that at the age of 6 I was bullied by a teacher who stood be up in front of my class and stated that "you are too stupid to teach and I refuse to help you".  I was mortified.  I'm sure even now, when I'm low, I hear her voice at the back of my mind.  I also worried about the safety of my family and I.  I kept a suitcase packed under my bed every night which included a change of clothes, some food, soap, a book and whatever was most precious to me at that time (bless!).  This bag was to be grabbed in case of fire.  I had also decided that the safest escape route from our house if there was a fire was through my bedroom, out onto the roof and then a small jump to the ground.  I figured it was my responsibility to save my family as well.  I think I really was a very worried 6 year old!

I'm giving you the background history here... I think it might help to explain how I behaved after I had Ethan..

I was ecstatic to be having a child.  It was what I'd always wanted.  Pete and I had got married and decided to try for a baby as soon as we were back from our honeymoon.  We were pregnant within 2 weeks of trying.  I think I thought it would take us 6 months to a year.  I think the shock of getting pregnant so quickly was the start of it!  There was hardly time to breath.. We were booking in with the midwife only 5 weeks after getting married.  It was a roller-coaster.

I really wanted a water birth.  I went overdue by 13 days.  There were no birthing pools available in the hospital.  Not the greatest start.  I didn't dilate.  Not unusual.  20 hours of labour and I was only 1cm.  Because I was so overdue, I felt I had no choice but to accept the drugs to kick start dilation.  I went from 2cm-10cm in half an hour.  I'd been given pethidine under the assumption that baby's delivery was 4 or more hours away.  Ethan was born dopey with drugs.  I was out of it.  He couldn't latch.  He was a boy.  I was convinced I was having a girl.. These were all contributing factors I'm sure.

Staying overnight in the hospital was like some form of purgatory.  All night long buzzers going off.  People shouting and chatting.  Surrounded by bewildered new Mums.  Stifled crying,  mostly mine.  Ethan lay there in his cot, still in a drugged sleep.  He hadn't fed properly.  I lay there watching the hour and minute hand on the clock.  Could not sleep.  Tears ran down my face.  I was soaked in tears, the pillow beneath my head drenched.  Whenever he woke, he cried.  I didn't know what to do with him.  How to hold him.  How to feed him.  I was so, so scared.  I felt at that moment my life was over.  I sat in that hospital bed ignoring the crying baby, rocking forwards and backwards chanting "what have I done, what have I done".

I remember Pete coming to pick us up the day after Ethan was born.  He was so happy to be a Dad.  I felt I had to keep plastering this fake smile on my face.  I wanted to go home but at the same time, I didn't.  It rained all the way home.  That seemed appropriate.  When we reached home, there were bunches of flowers, balloons, cards and gifts.  I didn't want to look at them.  Didn't want to acknowledge what was happening.

I walked in the front door, dumped Ethan in his car seat in the living room (he was sleeping- the last sleep he'd have for a long while) and got down on my hands and knees.  I swept the floors with a dustpan and brush.  Control.  I needed control.  Something I knew how to handle.

That first night at home was terrifying.  Ethan woke that afternoon and did not sleep again until 6am.  This was a pattern set to continue for a good while.  I breast fed him constantly and yet he lost weight.  He lost more than 10% of his birth weight yet the midwife decided not to re-admit us to hospital.  She felt his latch was OK.  My milk never came in.  I spent a 46 hour stint of breast feeding where I only had one 2 hour break for sleep and a bath.  Ethan only ever slept at the breast, but I couldn't sleep at all.  I couldn't eat.  There was a permanent lump in my throat and anxious knots in my stomach.  It would take me 10 minutes to chew and swallow a mouthful of food.  I lost all the baby weight in 4 days.  That was nearly 2 stone.  Anyone will tell you that's not normal and not healthy.  Within a week and half of giving birth I weighed less than I did before getting pregnant.

We ended up moving in with my parents to help me cope.  My nipples were in such a terrible state from feeding that a health visitor who had been working for 25 years stated they were the worst she'd ever seen.  No one could get Ethan to sleep.

Finally we gave up the breast feeding.  One day on formula, Ethan slept and smiled.  It was amazing.  He changed, but the damage had been done to me.  In some ways, this stage was even harder.  Ethan had become a much more "normal" baby (although he still only slept for short periods, had colic and reflux) but I still felt I couldn't cope.  I managed to struggle on until Ethan was about 2 months old.  I broke down.  I'd just come down with mastitis for the 2nd time, despite having given up breast feeding a while back and was feeling terribly ill.  I started having a panic attack and ended up at the Drs being diagnosed with PND.  It was like a crushing weight dropping on me at the same time as another one being lifted.  On the one hand, hurray, support and an answer.. but on the other hand.  Depression. Medication.  One of the worst things about being diagnosed and given medication is when they tell you it will take 6 weeks to work.  At that point, you feel you can hardly get through one more minute, let alone 6 weeks.

I don't know how I got through really.  Pete was always fantastic, taking time off work to help when he could.  My parents were rocks.  Even though I don't think they truly understood and didn't really like me being medicated, they were supportive.  Though Mum would often comment negatively if I talked about being happy to be on my drugs for a while, or if my dose was upped.  I know she was happy when I came off them..

Coming off AntiD's is another thing.. the first time I came off, it wasn't managed well by my Dr.  I ended up somehow being advised to go cold turkey.  Coming off them cold turkey is like coming class A drugs cold turkey.  Sweats.  Panic attacks.  Paranoia.  Heart palpitations.  Anxiety.  Stress.  For me, the first time, it wasn't the right time.  I ended up back on a higher dose after 2 weeks off them.  Of course it takes weeks for them to kick back in again.  That was another dark time when Pete needed to stay off work.  I had no interest in anything.  All I could do was walk around crying.

The biggest turning point for me was when Ethan hit his first birthday.  For the first time I couldn't look back and think "this time last year, I was free, Ethan wasn't born".  It was a turn in the road.  An acceptance.

I finally made it off the drugs last summer.  It was very hard at first.  It takes a while to get back to knowing what normal ebbs and flows in emotions are.  And getting PMT as well - I found my drugs levelled that out for me!  The drugs keep you quite mellowed out. Not completely, but you don't quite experience the full range of emotions.  Things aren't so raw.  Which is what you want.  It's what you need so you can heal.  It's quite hard adjusting back to controlling and understanding your moods and emotions yourself.

Now.. I feel better.  I still have anxiety.  I always did and I probably always will.  It's not as bad as it was.  Usually it's worse if I have a busy day ahead.  I can cope though.  I feel like things are slipping out of my control at times, of course I do, but I can recognise the signs now and usually step back in time and calm my day down.  Take out the things we don't "have" to fit in.

Am I scared about getting PND again if I have another child.  Yes.  Very much so.  But I made it through once.. I can do it again.

I have to.

Stay at home, Mum?

When I'm out, with friends, family, or at a group, I feel like a fantastic Mum.  It's almost like I can see myself through their eyes.  I have a whole different perspective on myself and my abilities.

When I'm at home, I feel like a terrible Mum.  I feel tense.  All I can hear is myself saying "No! Don't do that!" or "Wait a minute, I've just got to hang the washing up".  I feel weighed down by responsibility and imposed upon by my child and my house.  I feel annoyance and anxiety.  I loose all perspective and all sense of self.



When we're out, I'm fun, relaxed and I feel free.  So free.

I love being a Mum.  I don't want a life where I rush out to a job I hate, having to put Ethan in childcare.  I'm happy to call myself a stay at home Mum.  I just struggle with the stay at home aspect...