Tealover101 my story and diary - All replies welcome

Childhood to age 11 -

I had a pretty normal childhood, grew up with my mum, dad and sister. I was always quieter than other children, kind of didn

Ages 11-15 -

Please note possible trigger warning

Brief mention of avoiding food and suicidal thoughts

Fast forward to high school, my anxiety and shyness was crippling. I didnt have a single person I could speak to and felt alone and panicked all the time. I was too anxious to speak to anyone or make any friends. I spent lunch and break times walking round and round in circles, hoping that no one would notice that I didnt have any friends. I wouldnt eat because I was afraid of what anyone would say so I hid in the toilets to drink a smoothie at lunch time.

Of course people did realise I had no friends, realised I was the odd one out and that I did not speak – they began to tease me and I was bullied (I feel terrible using the word bullying as no one ever physically hurt me but the mental hurt was excruciating). They would call me names, follow me around asking me where my friends were, purposely sit next to me to make me feel uncomfortable and laugh at me. They would always ask me the time because they knew I could just about muster up the courage to mutter these few words to them. I was left out during group work, always the one that no one wanted in their group and the teacher had to ask a group if I could join in. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me.

I often thought of suicide and how much easier it would be not to have to go to school. Each night I would cry, cry that I had to go back to school the next day and go through it all again. I dont think anyone knows how much I suffered, how crippling my anxiety was and how much I just wanted to disappear.

At home I acted as if everything was okay, put on a brave face and pretended I had friends. I was ashamed of who I was and the shyness that consumed me.

Age 15-16 -

Towards the end of school I did have a few friends and I did begin to speak more but my anxiety always got the better of me and I would question it. Why do they want to be my friend? Are they only pretending to be my friend for a joke? Are they taking the piss out of me behind my back? – The list goes on. I would avoid spending time with them because my brain was telling me that I did not deserve them and that they did not like me anyway.

All this anxiety and worry made me sharp and bitter. Things at home were awful, I would argue with my parents. I hated who I was and I hated what all this had made me become. I would tell my mum I hated her, she would cry and I didnt care. Thinking back to that time makes me cry now as I realise that I lost so many years with my mum that I will never get back. I spoke about running away from home, a few people on facebook offered me a room but I just decided to stay at home. In my head home life was horrendous, I hated everyone and everything (thinking back now it was all just in my head because of how I was feeling).

I wish i had spoken to someone about these feelings because they were becoming increasingly more difficult and i was unable to manage them on my own. I had no platform such as 7 cups so i struggled through it myself, not letting a single soul into my thoughts.

Ages 16-18

Please note possible trigger warning

Brief mention of abuse (not me)

Alcohol abuse and smoking

In an attempt to hide my feelings, during the holidays between school and college I set up a support page on the then popular website ‘Ask fm. Where you can anonymously ask questions and post answers (I had previously been bullied on this website on my private account). This page was my safe haven and allowed me to support other teenagers who had no where to turn to – I never wanted anyone to feel the way that I felt. The page grew and grew and I hired admins to help me run it as I could not keep it going on my own – we received over 21,000 posts and supported hundreds and hundreds of people.

At age 16 I started college doing a health and social care course and a sociology course. The class was small and we were all girls meaning it was more supportive. Although I still suffered a lot from anxiety and found myself questioning why they even wanted to know me. I loved the health and social care but really struggled with the A-level sociology course and decided to drop that.

I got a job at a local discount store, for some reason because everyone was older than me I felt much more comfortable and this was a safe haven in my life. I made some amazing friends and spent as much time as I could there.

A younger friend that I knew from a local stable yard told me that a man was taking advantage of her, I had to report this to the school meaning that there was a police investigation and I had to give the police my phone for them to look through as the friend had told me all this via message and they needed it for evidence. I also found out that my mum was having affairs with several men behind my dads back. I was young and didnt really know how to feel about this but kept it to myself as I knew she was not happy with dad.

I am not sure why these events effected me so much but it did and at this point in my life I feel that I lost control. I started smoking cigarettes to relieve the stress and started drinking as a way to cope with the pain I was feeling. I started going out twice a week and binge drinking, I would drink until I passed out or vomited. It felt good to not be in control, to let nature take its course and take the pain away. I never spoke about how I felt and again kept it inside to fester away.

At 17 I got my first real boyfriend – He was the love of my life. At this time I came out as Bisexual, I kind of knew that I liked women but also had feelings for this guy – I told him and he was supportive. He then cheated on me with his Ex and I broke off the relationship. I was devastated.

Somewhere around this time I became confused about my sexuality. I started to realise that I was more into women than men, I was confused as I had had a boyfriend but thinking back Im not sure this was the right thing for me. I came out as a lesbian after I think years of denial and confusion. Still to this day I question my sexuality and it confuses me – at times I feel I am more asexual but then again Im not sure if that is just because of the situation I am in. I took my mum out to tell her that I was bisexual which she accepted with open arms. She also confided in me about the affairs she had been having with the men and I said that I would keep it to myself as we still had to pretend everything was ok with my dad.

My drinking continued to be a problem – I would binge twice on a weekend and then drink every day throughout the week. It helped and made me feel better. Just before my 18th birthday I went away with some girls from work for a hen do to Magaluf, we drank none stop for 4 days – It was an amazing weekend. I then came home for a week and drank everyday. 1 Week later I flew back out to Magaluf with some girls from college for 2 weeks – my anxiety was through the roof, I didnt want to leave the hotel and found every second of it extremely difficult but I got though it and did manage to battle through my thoughts.

After all the drinking on the holidays and the binge drinking the previous 2 years, i was told by a doctor i had severely damaged my oesophagus. This is something that i still suffer from and have to take daily medication for.

Around this time i started to have panic attacks. They were awful and sometimes took hours and hours for me to get control of my breathing. One particular one after a night out lasted for around 4 hours, someone i was out with stayed up with me and helped me through it. Everytime i nearly got control back it would go again and i would be left gasping for breath.

University ages 18-21

In 2014 aged 18 I moved out of the family home and away to university to study mental health nursing. I was excited although apprehensive, particularly because of my depression and anxiety. The course lasted 3 years and it was the hardest and worst 3 years of my life. At times during the 3 years i lived with very toxic people who made my life a living hell, I must admit, some of it was good but my mental health took a nosedive. Studying, placements, exams, university all became a huge burden on me. I will go through each year individually below.

University Year 1

Please note possible trigger warning

Brief mention of suicidal thoughts, alcohol abuse, smoking

I moved into student halls, into a flat with 4 other people (x2 other nursing students and 2 guys who were studying engineering). The nurses were okay, one i became friends with, the guys were a complete nightmare and I ended up cleaning every single day as they did nothing and the flat was a state. I mainly stayed in my room because I could not face seeing them.

I missed lots of university and placement, didnt study very much and spent most of my time in bed. My anxiety was crippling. There were points where i was too anxious to even step out of my bed, too scared of what would happen if i put a foot onto the ground. I was too anxious to go to the shops. Using a bus was impossible as negative thoughts ruminated in my head (what if i miss the bus; what if the bus doesnt stop when i put my arm out; what if it doesnt turn up; what if i trip getting on the bus and look stupid; what if i dont have enough money; what if the bus doesnt stop when i press the button; what if i miss my stop; what if everyone looks at me; what if i cant get off the bus; what if the bus falls into a hole; what if we run over someone)- these are the sort of thoughts i experienced for every single situation making it impossible to do anything. Panic attacks, depression, suicidal thoughts and anxiety took over my life. Yet again I used binge drinking as a way to cope. I would drink so much and then become so panicked I would have more panic attacks that lasted hours (I was lucky i had a few people on my course i could talk to and they would come to my flat and sit with me through them) I was a total mess. I suffered from insomnia and did not sleep, at times i did not sleep at all for days which was horrible, you would often find me obsessively cleaning the kitchen or emptying the bins at 4am. I just wanted everything to end as that would have been easier than going through what i was feeling - I thought about ways to end it but never could. I was a shell of myself. One night i got so drunk i fell and hit my head and knocked myself unconscious, i was vomiting and i had to be taken to A&E via ambulance.

After the worst Christmas ever, where I spent the day wanting to end everything, I finally plucked up the courage to go to the doctor and ask for help. I was put on Citalopram an antidepressant medication and diagnosed with depression and anxiety. I was referred to see a mental health nurse and to attend counselling - this was great but i missed many appointments because i was either too anxious or too depressed to attend and just could not get out of bed. The medication i was put onto at first increased my suicidal thoughts, it also gave me jumpy legs where they literally jumped up and down none stop and made me very aggitated.

I began a long distance relationship (with my now fiancee).

Towards the end of first year I was so worried about where i would live the following year, I had met 2 girls and a guy from the flat below and they asked if i wanted to move in with them with one of the girls from my flat, i agreed. Negative thinking and anxiety got the better of me, I think the feelings from school returned with a vengeance (What if they dont actually want to live with me; what if they are just doing it to be nice; what if they are only pretending; what if they leave me out at the last minute; what if they dont actually like me; what if we sign for the house and the they don't let me in; what if they are just doing it to make me look silly). Anyway we signed for the house for the second year.

University Year 2

Please note possible trigger warnings

Death, Dying, Cancer, Grief, alcohol use

After signing for the house for 2nd year we all moved in - me, a girl i lived with in 1st year, 2 girls we met from the flat below and were close with and one of the other girls friends, a guy (all nursing students). For the first few months it was great, it was a lovely 4 story house with en suites and lovely finish. I was still depressed and not doing so great however it was nice to feel safe and supported with a group of people who seemed to care. Around 1 month in, the guy came in and told us that he had done something that he shouldn't have done while on nurse placement and we had to report this to the university - the girl who made the report (one of my close friends) was blamed for this and the guy was thrown off the course due to this and also for failing some essays. My friend got the blame and felt too uncomfortable to stay in the house and had to move out. The house became bitter, yes we had some good times but there was always an air of hostility and coldness. Due to my depression i often just stayed in bed or sat on the sofa, again i took a lot of time off placement and spent weeks unable to leave the house, one of the girls particularly became difficult about this and sent me some messages that really upset me - it wasnt my fault i wasnt well and i hated myself for being the way i was. Mum used to come and visit when she could but i just didnt really want to see anyone, it was enough effort to just get up and go to university on some days and that is all i wanted to do.

My partners mental health became really bad, i was 220 miles away and could do nothing to help, i felt ‘carers strain however could not really get carers support because she didnt live in the same area as me, i was told i could attend carers groups - i was going to do this and told her however she told me i was not allowed to go and that she shouldnt be making me feel that way - i felt lost and trapped. I started a CBT course with my local mental health service however this was just another thing i did not have the energy to do (as a mh nursing student i knew all this but putting it into practice yourself is hard). I started counselling through my university for the 2nd time and found this helpful to be able to talk - i missed some appointments because i couldnt leave the house and they cancelled my referral. Again i missed weeks and weeks of university and placements, i buried myself in 7 cups and tried to block out my life. I continued to drink and this was the only time i felt alive.

During this year i lost 2 cats and my grandma, this was the most painful thing i have ever had to go through and with minimal support and the atmosphere of the house it made it even harder. My mums cat Tigger who we had had for 10 years developed cancer and had to be put to sleep after a long and painful battle, i knew it was sudden but it came around quick and i never got to say bye. Our house uni cat was run over and this just brought all the pain back from Tigger. My grandma died after a battle with cancer and this was just the hardest thing that has ever happened to me (see entry below).

During this year i went with mum for a routine mammogram, they found something and they had to do extra tests. We were there hours and were both worried. It turned out mum had breast cancer (her 2nd cancer as she previously had skin cancer of her face that she had removed). She went into hospital to have an operation and was told she may need treatment, luckily they managed to get it all with a small procedure and did not require treatment.

Loosing Grandma during 2nd year of university

Please note possible trigger warnings

Death, Dying, Cancer, Grief

I dont think you can ever prepare yourself to watch someone die. To sit with them as they take their last breath and slowly drift away. To stroke their hand and feel their cold skin. To stroke their soft hair. To see their lifeless body lay there. To expect them to take one last breath, which never comes.

I had always been close to my Grandma, Id spend weeks at a time at her house during school holidays and tell her all the things that were on my mind. She was someone I looked up to and who gave lovely cuddles and kisses.

A few years before she was diagnosed with skin cancer after she had a lump taken off her face, I was upset and worried Id lose her. In 2014 she had a scan and it showed the cancer had spread to her lungs and liver, she was given months to live.

Over the next few months I tried to spend time with her, which was difficult when I live away at university and dont drive, I took as many pictures as I could as I never knew if it would be the last time. Her physical health began to slowly deteriorate and she had carers a few times a day to help her dress and wash. Each time I saw her she looked frailer and frailer. I took her some flowers round one day and made my friend record it, this video gives me a lot of comfort and I often watch it to hear my grans voice and watch her give me a cuddle.

In about November 2015 I was told that Grandma was deteriorating quite fast, I wished I could be at home to see her but I was at university and on clinical placement and couldnt have time off. I finally finished for Christmas and visited as much as I could.

At this point my dad was having to stay with her every night as she was too weak to walk to the toilet and care for herself, carers visited 4 times a day as well as district nurses, McMillan nurses and marie curie nurses. I spent evenings there and allowed dad to nap and rest.

I bought Gran a teddy bear in a little Christmas jumper, she loved it and she had it in bed with her. I was unsure if she would make it until Christmas so wanted to get her something special.

Grandma became bedbound and only got up to use the toilet. I remember helping her onto the commode on several occasions where I literally had to lift her out of bed and take all her weight and hold the cup as she took a sip through a straw. I was sad but didnt want to cry in front of her, I wanted to be strong.

Grandma was so unwell she couldnt talk very much but when the cleaner came round she still managed to tell her that she wanted the house cleaning, and then made me and dad pay her! I was sat in the front room as the cleaner left and she began to cry, she explained how she was upset that she might never get to clean this house ever again or see my gran. We both hugged and cried. She was right. Over the week many friends and friends from church came to visit.

My gran always wanted to stay at home when the time came to die, she had managed it this long but was now in a lot of pain and we were unable to get her out of bed at all. On the 16th December 2015 it was decided she would see her final days out in a hospice where she could receive palliative care. I still remember the ambulance coming to collect her and having to carry her out of the bungalow in a sheet.

I went to visit her that night after she had settled in, she was talking and gave me a big kiss, she was on constant medication for her pain and looked comfortable. I said goodnight and left, little did I know this would be the last time my gran could kiss and talk to me. The teddy I got her remained on her bed in the hospice and it brought her great comfort.

The day after we visited and she was unable to speak or open her eyes, I wondered how she had deteriorated so much in the 12 hours since I last saw her, I think she felt more comfortable and had accepted that this was okay. We sat and watched her breathe and spent time together. I gave her a kiss and said goodnight.

On the 18th December dad had come home from spending the night at the hospice with my gran, my auntie had arrived to sit with her so dad came home for a sleep. At around 11:45 am auntie Jill rang and said me and dad should get back to the hospice quickly. We arrived there at 12pm. At 12:07 pm grandma took her last breathe aged 88, just 7 days before Christmas, surrounded by me, my dad, auntie and her cousin. We all cried and hugged each other. I think she waited until me and dad were there with her before she left, I am so grateful she did. Her minister from church came and said a few words which were both heart breaking and comforting.

Christmas day was the hardest day I have had in a long time. There was someone missing and I think that was hard for all four of us to deal with. She wasnt there to have her swig of cherry or pull a cracker with me around the dinner table. She wasnt there to wish me a merry Christmas and tell me she loved me. She wasnt there to give me a big kiss and cuddle when she opened her presents. For the first time in my life gran wasnt at our house for Christmas day and the void was unbearable.

I cant say that being with someone you love as they take their last breath is easy, its the hardest thing I have ever had to do, but I take comfort in the fact that she wasnt on her own and she allowed us to be with her as she slipped away. I would do anything to see her one last time, to sit and have a cup of tea, to cuddle up together on the sofa, to run my fingers through her soft hair, to tell her I love her one last time.

University Year 3

To be continued...