New Year

So it is that time of year when you start looking back at the year you've had and looking forward to the year ahead. Well at least that's what I do. I've always done the whole New Years Resolutions thing and re-write my five-year-plan every year. And I used to use it as a way of telling myself how crap I've been and how much better I need to be. But in recent years I've begun to look not at just the bad things, but at how far I've come and at all of the good things I, and my friends, have achieved. This year has been pretty spectacular for me. I finished St Andrew's, I went back to University, I handed in my first essays in about three years and I did really well in them. I also made loads of new friends, have had a lot of fun, have laughed more than I think I ever have before in my life and have actually worked hard at something for the first time in my life - I'm talking about St Andrew's here, but I've kind of continued the hard work into Uni as well. I actually like life most of the time and I like being around people. And I have been massively blessed to see all of your achievements as well. I am so proud of all of my friends! This year has been a good year. And we have the power to make next year even better. And that is what I intend to do. So, I have made my New Years Resolutions and I have re-evaluated my five-year-plan and I thought I would share them with you.

These are my resolutions, in no particular order:
1. Lose weight/get fit

2. Work harder
3. Be more organised
4. Have better focus
5. Write more (for pleasure as well as work)
6. Read more (see above)
7. Keep a journal/blog/both
8. Be wiser with money
9. Try to get a job
10. Learn to like myself
11. Have fun
12. Complain less
13. Love more
14. Practise patience
15. Read Bible more
16. Pray more
17. Volunteer
18. Rewrite five-year-plan
19. Be healthy and happy
20. Take pride in my appearance

I know there are quite a lot, but I feel like they are balanced and actually easily manageable. I'm not setting ridiculous goals or impossible regimes for myself. I've included fun things and things that I enjoy. I'm not punishing myself for things that I've done wrong or just failed to do this last year. It is probably the best list of New Years Resolutions that I have ever made. And I really have a feeling that next year will be a good year - thanks to everything I've learnt and done and all of the people I've met this year.

I have already started number 18, rewriting my five-year-plan, and for once in all of the years that I've written and rewritten my five-year-plan, I haven't included anything romantic. Because I figure, you can't plan for that and I want to be surprised. I want to enjoy my life and whatever comes along and if I get to enjoy that with someone then great, but it's not necessary to have someone, and it would be even better for that to be a surprise relationship rather than something I've tried to plan for. If that makes sense. My five-year-plan mostly involves finishing Uni, getting a job, travelling, writing, volunteering and eventually doing a PGCE. I may not stick to it; I don't think I've ever stuck to my five-year-plans - but I feel like it's a good plan. It's a healthy plan. And I can't wait to get started.

I've actually been thinking about and re-evaluating a lot recently. It probably is mostly to do with this time of year and the fact that I always do it but my head has been in a weird place recently and I guess I've just been thinking about a number of things, including the sort of person I want to be and this has led to a change in some of my thinking. I'm not sure I want to clarify that anymore right now but I feel like it's important to mark that my head has been in a weird space recently and may continue to be so for a little while longer while I work some more things out. But at the end of the day, I am okay. I'm doing well, actually. So don't worry about me, I actually will be fine.

Happy New Year!

forsan et haec olim meminisse iuvabit...

The Latin title of this post is taken from book 1 of Virgil's 'The Aeneid' and roughly translates to 'perhaps some day it will help to have remembered these things'. I came across this quote a few months ago and, ever since, it has come to hold a great deal of significance for me. To me, this phrase is rich in meaning. The way I understand it, it means that, put simply; the things we experience and learn in the present, will be important in the future, so we should remember them. For me personally, this relates to this last year in therapy - I'm even planning on getting it tattooed on my wrist to signify my time at St Andrew's. I have learnt so much during my time in group therapy; it has literally changed my life. But that doesn't mean that I'm 'cured' or 'recovered'. With mental health problems, it's difficult to say if you'll ever be 'recovered'. But everything that I have learnt and experienced has helped me to deal with or manage my issues. They're not completely gone, I may always be prone to suffering from mental health problems, but now they don't seem as big and scary; they don't control me anymore. Now that I'm coming to the end of my time at St Andrew's (I leave next Thursday) the important thing is that I remember everything that I have learnt, and to keep using it. So I don't go back to letting my issues control me - I don't have any intention of letting this happen, but I can't allow myself to become complacent, it's still going to take a lot of hard work.

I have a lot of mixed feelings about leaving. St Andrew's has been a massive part of my life for the last year. Part of me can't believe that it's been a year already. When I started, a year seemed like an eternity, but now it feels like hardly any time at all. The changes I see in myself, and others see in me, I never would have believed possible. I feel like a completely different person. If you'd told me, this time last year, what I'd be like now, I would not have listened to you. I have so much to be thankful to St Andrew's for. And most of it has been thanks to all of the people I have met there. I never wanted to do group therapy. I used to say that I hated people. I was seriously, socially inept. But everyone I've met through St Andrew's has helped me in some way and I've made some real friends who will always be important to me. Also, the staff have just been amazing and I really feel close to them. Before St Andrew's, I'd had a lot of therapy and I'd hated all of ti; especially the therapists and counsellors themselves. So actually liking the therapists at St Andrew's is different for me. And most people who knew me before I started the programme, myself included, didn't think I'd stay very long at all. I had a habit of not turning up to things, or just leaving and never going back. But I have had almost full attendance for the whole year at St Andrew's. And that's huge for me. I am really going to miss the place. And everyone there.

Though I will be sad to leave and I'll miss it; I'm also looking forward to leaving. Change used to seriously terrify me, but now I realise that things need to change in order to get better. And though I'm anxious about the change of leaving St Andrew's, I know that it's the right time for me to leave and to move on to other things; maybe better things. Also, I start University again in September and I'm really excited about it. I want to get back to studying and, this time, be an 'ordinary' student; because there's nothing wrong with being 'ordinary'. I'm also looking forward to leaving because I really need a job, to earn some money, before I start Uni. And St Andrew's has helped me to find the confidence to go out there and job hunt and to be able to work, when I finally, hopefully, get a job. I'm actually looking forward to meeting new people and being out in the real world.

Trying to write about everything that I have learnt in this last year would take, well, probably a year. Maybe even longer. And most of it probably wouldn't make sense to anyone but me. Hell, even I probably wouldn't understand half of it. I just know that I will never forget my time at St Andrew's and everything I have learnt there. In fact, I really ought to make an effort to remember it all, because...

...perhaps, some day, it will help to have remembered these things.

difficult decisions and admitting that i *may* have been wrong

So, as those of you who know me personally will know, I was pretty damn certain that once I finished at therapy I would return to Brighton to finish my degree in Philosophy and English Literature. As you will also know, I am really stubborn. In fact that is an understatement. I am ridiculously stubborn. And I hate admitting that I am wrong. For a long while, I avoided even thinking about University; stuck in this little part of my brain that was stubbornly convinced that I would return to Brighton and everything would be great. I wouldn't even let myself admit that I was scared that actually it wouldn't be all that great; because last time I thought that it would be great and... well... look what happened there. Then, just after Christmas, my mother brought up the subject of University. It's hard for me to realise this, let alone accept it, but she's scared too. She's scared of how ill I was and of what might happen if I go back to Brighton. She may not have put it in the best way and it may have turned into an argument, but what she said basically amounted to her telling me she's scared for me, she doesn't think I'll be ready to go back to Brighton and she doesn't want to have to go through what she went through last time if it doesn't work out again. She wanted me to transfer to York St John. I didn't want to listen at first. There's a whole bunch of issues that goes along with this, like feeling stupid for failing Uni; feeling like I'm going backwards; feeling like a child, unable to look after myself; not wanting to end up like some people I know who are in their 40s and still live at home... the list goes on, and on, and on. I was also scared that York St John wouldn't accept me and then I'd never be able to finish my degree. (That may seem like a silly fear, but it's not for me. I have a very low opinion of myself and I genuinely cannot see why they would accept me.) Eventually, I realised I had to think about this stuff. In fact, after that conversation, I couldn't stop thinking about stuff. Getting my degree is what's most important to me now. I was lazy in my GCSEs and ALevels. And in my first year of my degree to an extent. And then my damned psycho brain decided to screw it all up even more. It was bound to happen eventually. Anyway... I've realised that what I really want is to get my degree, do a PGCE and become an English teacher. And whether I do those things in Brighton or in York, or even on the moon, doesn't matter. The important thing is to do them. Sure I don't want to live at home forever, and I won't, but right now, it's my best shot of getting a degree. And if therapy has taught me anything - actually, it's taught me a lot - it's taught me that sometimes, just *sometimes* mind, I can be wrong and I am too stubborn for my own good. So I decided to do something that I have never done in the history of ever, and I listened to my mother. *Pause for the shocked horror of my friends* I looked at the English Literature and Creative Writing course at York St John - they don't do Philosophy and actually I love writing so this course makes a lot of sense - and I emailed them about transferring. I had a lot of support and prayer from my friends in York. I've settled into a church here now - York City Church - and everyone has been so loving and welcoming and I have met so many people and made so many friends, the idea of leaving actually would make me incredibly sad. I would miss everyone, A LOT. So maybe staying in York could work out. Finally, after various emails and the University looking over my grades and everything, just over a week ago now, they said they would be happy to accept me as a transfer. I still have to do a UCAS form - I MUST be masochistic! - but I'm basically in. I wasn't expecting quite how happy this actually made me. I got in. And I get to stay in York, at my wonderful church, with all my wonderful friends. And my family, however much I argue with my mother at times, will be close by if I need them. So I've almost completed the dreaded UCAS form. I even made the daring step of contacting my academic advisor from Sussex to request a reference, which he agreed to do. I just have to do the personal statement. The worst part. The part that I tried to do last weekend and just ended up with hundreds of screwed up balls of paper all over my bedroom floor, and then have just avoided doing for the rest of the week. Funny how I can sit at my laptop and write this so easily and without a second's thought, but not write a personal statement - which is what I had originally intended to do when I sat down to my laptop earlier this evening. My skills of avoidance and procrastination know no bounds! - just don't tell my therapists... especially PHIL! Who wants me to write and draft and then take it into therapy for people to read and tell me if it's good and what else I can include, because apparently I'm too harsh a critic to myself and I just *think* it's crap but actually other people will be able to tell me it's not. Well this is just another of my many millions of issues... I cannot write about myself, especially not favourably, and I really think that most of what I write is a load of crap anyway so writing a personal statement is hell for me! As for letting other people at therapy see it?! No thank you! I don't want them realising that actually I'm really thick. And I'm really bad at taking criticism and practical advice so this is really just going to end badly. I did mention that I'm stubborn, right? I have this feeling that I'm going to just write it and send it and then make excuses next week, but I know that I really really shouldn't do that... So now I'm stuck. Because I know that the right thing for me therapeutically would be to do as Phil suggested and write a draft and let people at therapy help me, but I'm really so stubborn - and actually really fragile - that I don't know if I can do it... I wonder how this one is going to play out. Anyway... I have successfully avoided actually writing this damned personal statement for a good hour or so now... and I really should quit with the procrastination and just get on with it... Oh well, this was fun while it lasted. I'll post again sometime... not sure when. I'm pretty crappy when it comes to this blogging thing; I have no self-discipline - yet another issue I need to deal with, no wonder I'm in therapy!

Honesty, Fears and Infertility

On Friday September 14^th 2012 I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome or PCOS. I had heard of PCOS but didn’t know much about it until I watched a television programme on which there was a woman who suffered from the syndrome. Some of the symptoms sounded similar to symptoms that I had been experiencing for years so I looked up the syndrome online. The symptoms include: irregular or absent periods; excessive hair growth; excessive weight gain or difficulty losing weight; severe acne, not just limited to the face, and cysts on the ovaries. Depression can also be a symptom of PCOS. I went to my GP and described the symptoms to him, asking him if it was possible that I had PCOS. My doctor said it was highly likely that I did have it and so he took some blood to test for it. The first lot of tests were inconclusive but my GP was fairly certain that I had the syndrome and so he referred me to an Endocrinologist; a specialist who deals with hormone disorders including diabetes and PCOS. I saw the Endocrinologist on the 14^th September and he did several tests, as well as a physical examination, before officially diagnosing me with PCOS.

            PCOS is caused mostly by a hormonal imbalance. The ovaries produce more male hormones than they should which affects the production of eggs and leads to the production of lots of little cysts all over the ovaries. PCOS also has an element of insulin resistance. Women who have the syndrome have an excess of insulin which increases the production of the male hormones, causing all of the symptoms. This is also what makes it difficult for women with PCOS to lose weight because their bodies cannot process sugars and starches properly. The increased weight, however, also makes the symptoms worse creating a kind of vicious cycle which is difficult to get out of.

            There are a couple of different treatments for PCOS. The usual treatment is just to take the contraceptive pill, which increases the levels of female hormone thus reducing some of the symptoms, however, this doesn’t always work especially for women with a high insulin resistance factor. A treatment that has become more frequently offered to women with insulin resistance is a drug called Metformin. Metformin is traditionally a Diabetes medication, which is why it helps with the insulin resistance. For women who receive the Metformin treatment, they are also required to dramatically alter their diets in order to help them lose weight and to allow the drug to work more effectively.

            When I saw the Endocrinologist in September he decided that the best treatment for me was the Metformin treatment. Since I saw him, I have been trying to follow the diet advice I was given, have lost some weight and have noticed some improvement in a couple of the symptoms. I saw the Endocrinologist again in December and he seemed pleased enough with the progress I had made, so he said that I wouldn’t need to see him again until next September, a year after I was first diagnosed. The diet is sometimes difficult to manage and I’m hoping to see a dietician at some point to help me get it more under control.

            So far all I’ve written about in this post is factual stuff about Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome, but one fact I’ve not directly mentioned, the one that scares me most, is that PCOS can cause infertility. I’ve not written at all about how being diagnosed with PCOS has made me feel. I have always wanted children. I have never wanted anything more than to have children one day; a family of my own. And I have always had this fear, this immense, awful fear, that I won’t be able to. I used to think that I would never have children, just because I never thought that any man would want me enough to marry me and have children with me. But I let myself hope, dream, that maybe actually God would give me a husband. And then I get told that because of my PCOS I might be infertile; might never be able to have children. And that thought is almost destroying me. People keep telling me to try not to worry about it. That I can’t know for certain that I am infertile until I try for a family and get tested. That I’m just catastrophising it in my head; creating a problem that may not exist. But when your life’s hopes and dreams have been almost entirely built on something, to have even the slightest uncertainty that you will get it… it feels like the whole world has been ripped out from under you. I feel like my future has been destroyed and though I’ve been trying not to think like that and to think about other things I could do in my future, but it feels like there is this massive black hole in my life that is never going to close. And I can’t help but think that my life has no purpose, if I’m not able to have children.

            Call me melodramatic. Say I’m over-reacting. But this thing is killing me. And I just needed to tell the truth. To someone. Anyone. Everyone. I’m scared. Terrified. I just want to have children.