Despite hospitals offering a vital service to the world, they are still traumatic places to be. I don't know why they exhaust me so much - is it the waiting around? Is it the smell? Who knows.
Having spent the afternoon in hospital, I can now say that I am thoroughly exhausted. I would really just like to be better and to not feel like I have a burning stomach most of the time, but alas this is not a realistic outcome. Last night was horrendous; abdominal pains that don't go away no matter what position you lie in? Check. Pain that wakes you up every time you manage to fall asleep again? Check.
My trip to hospital this afternoon did highlight to me what an amazing job doctors do - particularly junior doctors (massive shoutout to Pete). The patience and care that I was given today along with the positivity that all of the staff had there towards their job was inspirational, and I hope that that persists.
Over and out x
Monday, 14 March 2016
Sunday, 15 November 2015
University, illness, diagnosis
Dear Internet,
Recently I have been having a bit of a hard time. My problems are likely to be insignificant compared to those of many others, but I feel that this is my own little corner of the internet for me to vent, so here we go.
Term was going great - I love Geography, my units are super interesting and everything was going well! Then I managed to get sick. Sinus infections are pretty normal for me, so I didn't think anything of it. Before I knew it, I had been sick for three weeks and was gradually getting weaker and weaker, finding myself unable to do activities that I take for granted.
I had a blood test, and fortunately I did not have Glandular Fever (a relief), but I am severely anaemic, and they are not quite sure of the cause yet.
It's not that I have a problem with being ill; I am glad that everything is being sorted out. What scares me is the uncertainty - I don't know what is causing this iron deficiency, meaning that there is something that has gone wrong with my body that I DO NOT KNOW ABOUT. If I got to find out next week then I would not be so worried about it, but the diagnostic endoscopy will probably not be until the end of December at the earliest. This means another month and a half of uncertainty.
This knocks me further because one of the possible causes of the anaemia could be coeliac disorder, which is a rather large happening to cope with. I am used to being able to eat whatever I like whenever I like, and the idea of having to avoid all gluten products scares the living daylights out of me - how will I tell people? Is it going to make me feel even more socially awkward than I do a lot of the time? How am I meant to eat meals and go out for dinner with my family and friends?
Although I do feel that I will be able to cope with this, in time; I still have a problem with food and ensuring I eat enough and enough healthy things. If I can't whip up a sandwich at lunch time, I am terrified that it will end with me not eating enough and then becoming sicker.
What scares me even more is that I have avoided gluten for the last couple of days and it has been the first few days in years that I have had without some sort of stomach cramps, bloating or abdominal pain, perhaps indicating that it is coeliac disease rather than the more favourable option of stomach ulcers (twisted right?).
To be entirely honest, either way it is just going to be another thing that I will have to cope with, and I am sure I will.
Any/all advice is much appreciated - I have no idea what is to come and it cuts me up a little.
Thank you for reading, friends;
Izzy x
Recently I have been having a bit of a hard time. My problems are likely to be insignificant compared to those of many others, but I feel that this is my own little corner of the internet for me to vent, so here we go.
Term was going great - I love Geography, my units are super interesting and everything was going well! Then I managed to get sick. Sinus infections are pretty normal for me, so I didn't think anything of it. Before I knew it, I had been sick for three weeks and was gradually getting weaker and weaker, finding myself unable to do activities that I take for granted.
I had a blood test, and fortunately I did not have Glandular Fever (a relief), but I am severely anaemic, and they are not quite sure of the cause yet.
It's not that I have a problem with being ill; I am glad that everything is being sorted out. What scares me is the uncertainty - I don't know what is causing this iron deficiency, meaning that there is something that has gone wrong with my body that I DO NOT KNOW ABOUT. If I got to find out next week then I would not be so worried about it, but the diagnostic endoscopy will probably not be until the end of December at the earliest. This means another month and a half of uncertainty.
This knocks me further because one of the possible causes of the anaemia could be coeliac disorder, which is a rather large happening to cope with. I am used to being able to eat whatever I like whenever I like, and the idea of having to avoid all gluten products scares the living daylights out of me - how will I tell people? Is it going to make me feel even more socially awkward than I do a lot of the time? How am I meant to eat meals and go out for dinner with my family and friends?
Although I do feel that I will be able to cope with this, in time; I still have a problem with food and ensuring I eat enough and enough healthy things. If I can't whip up a sandwich at lunch time, I am terrified that it will end with me not eating enough and then becoming sicker.
What scares me even more is that I have avoided gluten for the last couple of days and it has been the first few days in years that I have had without some sort of stomach cramps, bloating or abdominal pain, perhaps indicating that it is coeliac disease rather than the more favourable option of stomach ulcers (twisted right?).
To be entirely honest, either way it is just going to be another thing that I will have to cope with, and I am sure I will.
Any/all advice is much appreciated - I have no idea what is to come and it cuts me up a little.
Thank you for reading, friends;
Izzy x
Monday, 17 August 2015
Castles
This weekend, I went to Ludlow Castle. Ludlow is a charming English town on the England/Wales border. It's been around for a long time - the castle has been there since the Normans ruled Britain, and the town really boomed in the Medieval era.
Although this may seem fairly insignificant due to the plethora of English market towns (seeing as this was the only way people were able to trade food in the past), Ludlow Castle has been a desirable destination for me since the age of about 4. It was the site of Mary Tudor's first independent court, along with just being a general stronghold in England's history. Unlike many similar fortifications from the Norman era, Ludlow Castle has been fairly absent as a war defense, with its primary use being as a residential property.
Of course, it is now ruined after hundreds of years of use. Ruins are beautiful in their own way; they allow the observer to create their own impression of what the castle was like to live in. There are no modern decorations pretending to be from the 1400s, no beds, no clear definition of where the rooms started and ended. One is unable to tell exactly how many floors there were, or exactly how the rabbit warren of the castle connected up. In some ways, ruins make me hope that a time machine is never invented (not that it ever will), as creating your own impression is part of the magical experience of discovering the past.
At the same time, I would love to go back in time to meet famous figures. We only have images (not even photographs, simply impressions of artists) as accounts of Kings and Queens of the past. I would love to discover the true motivations behind the seeming need to execute other humans when they spoke against you, and how one could be so brutal to someone they supposedly loved (albeit for only a short while).
Who knows if these thoughts will ever be considered in a serious manner - the ethics of time travel are incredibly absorbing.
Peace x
Although this may seem fairly insignificant due to the plethora of English market towns (seeing as this was the only way people were able to trade food in the past), Ludlow Castle has been a desirable destination for me since the age of about 4. It was the site of Mary Tudor's first independent court, along with just being a general stronghold in England's history. Unlike many similar fortifications from the Norman era, Ludlow Castle has been fairly absent as a war defense, with its primary use being as a residential property.
Of course, it is now ruined after hundreds of years of use. Ruins are beautiful in their own way; they allow the observer to create their own impression of what the castle was like to live in. There are no modern decorations pretending to be from the 1400s, no beds, no clear definition of where the rooms started and ended. One is unable to tell exactly how many floors there were, or exactly how the rabbit warren of the castle connected up. In some ways, ruins make me hope that a time machine is never invented (not that it ever will), as creating your own impression is part of the magical experience of discovering the past.
At the same time, I would love to go back in time to meet famous figures. We only have images (not even photographs, simply impressions of artists) as accounts of Kings and Queens of the past. I would love to discover the true motivations behind the seeming need to execute other humans when they spoke against you, and how one could be so brutal to someone they supposedly loved (albeit for only a short while).
Who knows if these thoughts will ever be considered in a serious manner - the ethics of time travel are incredibly absorbing.
Peace x
Sunday, 9 August 2015
Friendship
9/8/2015
One of my favourite feelings in the world is reconnecting with old friends. You know those friends that you haven't spoken to in months, but then you hold a detailed conversation just as if you saw them yesterday. The type of friend that won't judge or question; yet somehow you seem to have an innate understanding of them that is rarely felt and must be held onto.
Jane Austen expresses this perfectly in her words from 'Northanger Abbey':
'Friendship is certainly the finest balm for the pangs of disappointed love.'
This poignant line has been displayed on my wall since an (at the time) traumatising break up with someone I believed to be my best friend and soul mate, but it still resonates true four years on.
Knowing that you have those people there to keep you company in times of need is a comforting enough thought for me. If I'm having a hard time then I know that I can contact them and they will distract me from my woes, and equally I am around to do the same for them.
The lack of school as a catalyst for friendship is the true deal breaker - if you can remain friends whilst at opposite ends of the country, with both parties remaining interested and working hard to maintain this mutual trust, you know you have found a true friend and soul mate.
Peace out x
One of my favourite feelings in the world is reconnecting with old friends. You know those friends that you haven't spoken to in months, but then you hold a detailed conversation just as if you saw them yesterday. The type of friend that won't judge or question; yet somehow you seem to have an innate understanding of them that is rarely felt and must be held onto.
Jane Austen expresses this perfectly in her words from 'Northanger Abbey':
'Friendship is certainly the finest balm for the pangs of disappointed love.'
This poignant line has been displayed on my wall since an (at the time) traumatising break up with someone I believed to be my best friend and soul mate, but it still resonates true four years on.
Knowing that you have those people there to keep you company in times of need is a comforting enough thought for me. If I'm having a hard time then I know that I can contact them and they will distract me from my woes, and equally I am around to do the same for them.
The lack of school as a catalyst for friendship is the true deal breaker - if you can remain friends whilst at opposite ends of the country, with both parties remaining interested and working hard to maintain this mutual trust, you know you have found a true friend and soul mate.
Peace out x
Thursday, 30 July 2015
Jewellery
Happy holidays world!
The holidays are meant to be a time for relaxing, but ironically I am feeling the most crazy anxious and exhausted that I have in an incredibly long time. Equally, I love being home. It feels comfortable and safe; I've extended friendships with people I knew before and sustained relationships that are new.
Enough of that. What I really wanted to blog about was jewellery.
Yesterday, I was given a beautiful pewter ring in the shape of a bird landing on a leaf. It was a surprise, making it even more special, but what's more is that it is a perfect 'me' piece. Having someone there that knows you well enough to pick out something that they know you will love is a real privilege. Knowing that someone has spent that time browsing through various products that they otherwise would have had no purpose in viewing is flattering, and feels like much more than i truly deserve.
The other reason that this ring feels so special is simply that I am no longer so frustrated and ashamed of my hands. They are no longer the sinewy claws that they used to be when I was playing the flute for 15 hours a week. My fingers look in proportion to my palms, and my palms to my wrists. Hence, rings no longer highlight the general abnormality that was my hands; instead they look nice, perhaps even bordering on elegant.
One of the only benefits of struggling with mental health issues this year has been that I have lost weight and gone down a dress size, simply through walking up hills repeatedly and forgetting the occasional meal. This, again, means that other jewellery now feels wearable. Instead of highlighting my slightly podgy chin, necklaces instead emphasise my collar bones. Bracelets tinkle gently on my wrists, instead of being stuck in the same position. Watches no longer leave imprints on my skin.
Although this may sound concerning to many, I feel that it has boosted my self esteem and confidence. Although the weight loss and the self esteem boost cannot be completely certified as a causation, somehow I do not care. For the first time in my life, I feel semi-good about the way I look.
Peace out x
The holidays are meant to be a time for relaxing, but ironically I am feeling the most crazy anxious and exhausted that I have in an incredibly long time. Equally, I love being home. It feels comfortable and safe; I've extended friendships with people I knew before and sustained relationships that are new.
Enough of that. What I really wanted to blog about was jewellery.
Yesterday, I was given a beautiful pewter ring in the shape of a bird landing on a leaf. It was a surprise, making it even more special, but what's more is that it is a perfect 'me' piece. Having someone there that knows you well enough to pick out something that they know you will love is a real privilege. Knowing that someone has spent that time browsing through various products that they otherwise would have had no purpose in viewing is flattering, and feels like much more than i truly deserve.
The other reason that this ring feels so special is simply that I am no longer so frustrated and ashamed of my hands. They are no longer the sinewy claws that they used to be when I was playing the flute for 15 hours a week. My fingers look in proportion to my palms, and my palms to my wrists. Hence, rings no longer highlight the general abnormality that was my hands; instead they look nice, perhaps even bordering on elegant.
One of the only benefits of struggling with mental health issues this year has been that I have lost weight and gone down a dress size, simply through walking up hills repeatedly and forgetting the occasional meal. This, again, means that other jewellery now feels wearable. Instead of highlighting my slightly podgy chin, necklaces instead emphasise my collar bones. Bracelets tinkle gently on my wrists, instead of being stuck in the same position. Watches no longer leave imprints on my skin.
Although this may sound concerning to many, I feel that it has boosted my self esteem and confidence. Although the weight loss and the self esteem boost cannot be completely certified as a causation, somehow I do not care. For the first time in my life, I feel semi-good about the way I look.
Peace out x
Vulnerabilities
10/5/2015
Hello there people of the internet, I hope you're having a wonderful day.
Ever since I was little, the two places I have felt most vulnerable have been in bed, and in the bathroom. For some reason, these still resonate as situations where I have to be on edge constantly: I still jump at the tiniest rustle or someone else's door opening. Rational me knows that these fears are absurd; I was convinced for the first 14 years of my life that a murderer was going to climb through my second floor window in the night and stab me (although somehow my duvet protected me from this, causing me to curl up under a thick layer of feathery duvetness right through the depths of summer).
Mostly, this particular fear has subsided, mainly due to living on the tenth floor or a high rise block, but occasionally when the insomnia hits, my brain takes these childhood fears and magnifies them into a situation that could seem almost rational.
When you're lying in bed at 4am, paralysed with fear that one of your flat mates is, in fact, a serial killer, you realise that the crazy you thought you had grown out of is still there.
What I mostly am confused about is how my mind creates these ridiculous situations, yet I appear to be completely unaffected by every horror film I have seen to date. Where did this crazy come from? Will it ever go away?
What I mostly am confused about is how my mind creates these ridiculous situations, yet I appear to be completely unaffected by every horror film I have seen to date. Where did this crazy come from? Will it ever go away?
The bathroom is a strange one - I love the thinking time you get during a warm shower, the warm water almost melting the tension away. The issue with the bathroom has always been being faced with my own, slightly lumpy body. It can be scrutinised from all angles, every little scar is a reminder of past mistakes; all the bruises and spots are reminders of my clumsiness and poor diet. The fear remains that I didn't lock the door properly so someone will walk in on me inspecting my slightly wonky teeth in great detail.
I don't know why that is associated with being bad, I guess it's just not living up to the image of a perfect being.
Projecting an emotionally strong image is one of my talents, and any crack that is shown in that scares me; it's like a chink in my metaphorical armour that protects me from what others think, that stops me speculating on whether my legs look fat in that skirt or if my hair looks stupid or if I look like a ghost due to my general lack of good quality sleep. I don't know why this matters to me so much. Sarcasm is my shield.
I suppose that my vulnerabilities may seem odd to me, but they don't come up in conversation much, so my knowledge of others' is limited.
Am I crazy? Or do I just have an over active imagination?
Peace out x
Friday, 8 May 2015
8/5/2015
Well hello there; how are you today?
I thought that seeing as this is my first blog post, I would share a little about myself.
My name is Isabel, I am 18 years old and I currently reside in the United Kingdom. I've been thinking about starting this blog for a while - a collection of personal thoughts, struggles and joys as well as a few product reviews, but it takes me a good few months to make decisions.
I'm going to be straight with you right now: this blog will not always be the happy musings of a carefree 18 year old. I suffer from anxiety and depression, so this blog is a way in which to share these thoughts and feelings with a wider audience, and I hope to aid others by sharing my experiences, as one of the most important things to remember is that you are not alone.
Seriousness over, I thought I would tell you about my day.
Having stayed up until 2:30am to watch the results from the General Election come in, my morning got off to a slow start, culminating in removing myself from bed 4 hours after getting up in order to drag myself up to university to collect some assignments. It turned out that I didn't fail quite as dramatically as I presumed I would. Following this was my appraisal, in which I was informed that my managers do actually like me (despite my constant paranoia that they, in fact, hate my guts) and I acquired a pay rise.
Then I got back to my room and went straight to bed.
If you have a mental illness of some sort, you may well know that bed feels the safest place to be when you have had a pretty horrendous day/week/month, but equally sometimes even great things (like payrises) take it out of you, and you feel as if you want to just escape from the world a little. I've been here for three hours now. I didn't realise that it had been three hours until I glanced at the clock just now.
I need to stop allowing time to just disappear.
Life is tough sometimes, y'know? Somehow, writing about my surreal, dream-like day has caused me to feel slightly better, as procrastiblogging is semi-productive, right?
Righty-ho, time to go and forage for food in the big bad world.
To all: I hope you have a wonderful day, week, month and year.
Thank you,
Isabel (here's me wearing my 'confused' face)
Well hello there; how are you today?
I thought that seeing as this is my first blog post, I would share a little about myself.
My name is Isabel, I am 18 years old and I currently reside in the United Kingdom. I've been thinking about starting this blog for a while - a collection of personal thoughts, struggles and joys as well as a few product reviews, but it takes me a good few months to make decisions.
I'm going to be straight with you right now: this blog will not always be the happy musings of a carefree 18 year old. I suffer from anxiety and depression, so this blog is a way in which to share these thoughts and feelings with a wider audience, and I hope to aid others by sharing my experiences, as one of the most important things to remember is that you are not alone.
Seriousness over, I thought I would tell you about my day.
Having stayed up until 2:30am to watch the results from the General Election come in, my morning got off to a slow start, culminating in removing myself from bed 4 hours after getting up in order to drag myself up to university to collect some assignments. It turned out that I didn't fail quite as dramatically as I presumed I would. Following this was my appraisal, in which I was informed that my managers do actually like me (despite my constant paranoia that they, in fact, hate my guts) and I acquired a pay rise.
Then I got back to my room and went straight to bed.
If you have a mental illness of some sort, you may well know that bed feels the safest place to be when you have had a pretty horrendous day/week/month, but equally sometimes even great things (like payrises) take it out of you, and you feel as if you want to just escape from the world a little. I've been here for three hours now. I didn't realise that it had been three hours until I glanced at the clock just now.
I need to stop allowing time to just disappear.
Life is tough sometimes, y'know? Somehow, writing about my surreal, dream-like day has caused me to feel slightly better, as procrastiblogging is semi-productive, right?
Righty-ho, time to go and forage for food in the big bad world.
To all: I hope you have a wonderful day, week, month and year.
Thank you,
Isabel (here's me wearing my 'confused' face)
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