In a Nutshell... Because Nutshells are Easy.

My God, I needed to write today. Yesterday. All of last week.  If ever there was a ramble (or 10) waiting to come out, it's now.

I've spent hours in front of the laptop attempting to unravel my muddled mind, but absolutely bugger all has made it as far as the keyboard.

How does that work exactly... with a head so full of blogger-fodder. A head so full of feels.

In a nutshell; because nutshells are easy... I feel like I've been picked up and thrown back to May 2015. I'm depressed-scared-overwhelmed. Exhausted. Withdrawn. Hurting. 

I thought I had it under control; The-Grief. Turns out I don't.
I cannot. I CANNOT accept!

I've pondered taking a complete blog/social media break, but I don't really want to do that. Cutting myself off completely isn't the answer; as I've discovered this week. Too little can be as harmful as too much. 

I think what I need to do for a while is write freely. Write without worrying about edits, readability... blog-worthiness  

So. Over the next few weeks I'm gonna continue with my Wordless Wednesday and Just-a-Quote posts; because they're (almost) effortless to put together.

Today I'm going to (in a minute) throw one of those My-10-most-popular thingies at you... assuming they're as easy as I imagine they are to throw together; I've not done one before.

Next week (all being well) I'll be sharing some of my favorite other-bloggers with you, and I'm hoping to write something for the 1000-Speak movement on the 20th.

In the meantime I'm going to be throwing thoughts to paper; any which way they come... writing-doodling-painting. Make a start on my Dear-Dad journal. Read; other-bloggers, and my long list of kindle saves. Have a go at putting some of those blogger how-to's that I've been pinning for months into practice. And rest!

I'll still be around to read/respond to your comments here on the blog (though perhaps not same-day, so bear with me).
I'll catch up with you, dear Twitter-Facebook-friends, on the not-so-down days, and join you, dear fellow-bloggers, for the blog-share parties as and when I can.
As for you, dear readers-just-readers... Thank you (assuming you're still here) for reading.

And Thank you, dear All-Of-The-Above, for supporting-encouraging-comforting me this past (awful) year. x 

Okay. *Takes a breath*. Lets have a go at this 10-most-popular-thing. Actually, lets not. Let's do 8; multiples of 4. Because... the 4-thing. 

#1 Marie's Voice

   

Once upon a time, (1970 to be exact), in a children's home in England, run by an order of nuns called The Poor Sisters of Nazareth... there lived a very 'special' little girl. She was a tiny little dot who had short cropped hair, and the bluest-of-blue eyes. Her beauty, often overlooked, was breathtaking. 

At five years old, such as she was; she was unable to feed herself, she couldn't walk, she couldn't talk, her understanding of the world around her was extremely limited, and her behaviour would have tried the patience of a saint (or nun, as the case may be). Read More

#2 Somebody's Son

Snow falls, blanketing the town 

Somebody's Son is cold 

His hands are froze to biting 

his body (though not) feels old 

Sat upon a cardboard sheet 

Somebody's son alone 

Huddled against a letter box 

gloves wet from shifting snow... 

Read More

#3 Lets Hear it for The Hashtags

I really enjoy these blog share memes. I've met some great people, read too many good-reads to mention, and received lots of encouragement with regard to my own writing. What's not to like :o) Read More

#4 Still Afraid... and the Line's Still Fine.
I originally wrote the following piece in 2013... I'm sharing it again today, edited only marginally, because almost 3 years on there is STILL no change for the better... Government are STILL ignoring campaigners... Disabled people (those who have survived the sustained attacks) are STILL afraid! Read More









#5 It's your Birthday and I'll cry if I want to.
Dad,

What do I do today? How do I do today?  Should I be doing something? - What do I say? I don't know what to say, Dad... should I be saying something?

What do people say to dead Dads on their Birthday?

Happy Birthday Dad. Are you happy? Are you here? Can you hear me? Can I see you? can you do that?... I want you to do that. Read More

#6 If I Could

If I could live anywhere... Oh I'm so glad day dreams are allowed... If I could live anywhere, (anywhere, any time, any dream) I would choose 'Walnut Grove'... Except I'd have Pa build me a proper oven, cause I'm buggered if I could bake like Ma bakes in a tiny little hole to the side of the fire place. Oh, and I'd be needing an inside loo... how Ma manages to poo in that tiny little outhouse; in THAT skirt, is beyond me. Read More






#7 Is This Tired... Fibromyalgia?
A few months ago, I had a severe pain/mobility episode, during which my back/hips went out of alignment and I was left virtually unable to walk for a period of around three weeks, it's not the first time this has happened, and as (over the past 18 months or so) I have experienced ongoing (though less severe) pain in other areas, and a variety of other (random) symptoms, my GP made a referral for me to see a rheumatologist. Read More






#8 I Am.

When other mental health sufferers say they are ashamed (many of them are, for one reason or another) I'm usually the first to respond with - "You have nothing to be ashamed of, you can't help being ill" - and I mean it!

However, I'm afraid it's a case of 'Take my advice, I'm not using it', because there really is no other word than 'ashamed' that describes how I feel, overwhelmingly so, and have felt for a very long time.

My 'shame' might not be rational, but it is 'my' truth, and that's what this space is for. Read More

NB: #8 was actually written toward the end of 2014. I've included it in 2015's most popular list because it is (according to stats) the most viewed post of 2015. 

***

Thank you, as always, for allowing me to share. 

God bless you, and all those you love 

Kimmie x 

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STILL afraid... and the Line's STILL fine!

I originally wrote the following piece in 2013... I'm sharing it again today, edited only marginally, because almost 3 years on there is STILL no change for the better... Government are STILL ignoring campaigners... Disabled people (those who have survived the sustained attacks) are STILL afraid!

***

Writing about my life with mental illness really helps me, it’s cathartic to write my thoughts down.

I made the decision to share my muddled mind through this blog because I felt that sharing my experiences might help other sufferers (and me) feel less isolated.

I hope that by my ‘telling it how it is’ someone somewhere will find some relief in reading. 

Having said that I do worry (a lot!) that being too honest about some of my mental health symptoms may do more harm than good and it’s for that reason I’m going to suggest that if you're feeling particularly vulnerable at the moment you don’t read any further into this post... 

A FINE LINE

In recent years I’ve had various conversations with friends (some via social media, some face to face) who report an increase in self-harm, and/or suicidal-thoughts... and I've lost count of how many articles of same/similar I've read on line. 

One lady (heartbreakingly) confided that she is mentally making plans to re-home her pets because she feels suicidal and is concerned that she might act on these feelings, leaving her pets uncared for.  

Many of the people I've spoken to have complex mental health issues (some have physical disabilities too),  and they have told me that their increase (or onset) of self-harming behaviours/thoughts, and/or suicidal thoughts are directly related to fear of Government, DWP, and current or anticipated WCA (Work capability assessment).

Of course, I know from personal experience that paranoid fear, irrational thoughts and an inability to cope with change often go hand in hand with mental illness, however, given the relentless cuts to disability welfare and services, the Government/media propaganda, and the treatment that so many have endured at DWP assessments interrogations, it’s hardly surprising that so many sick/disabled people feel incredibly anxious at the moment.

People are desperately afraid, overwhelmed with fear. Many are deeply affected by right wing ‘scrounger’ propaganda and incredibly worried about their future. 

They’re terrified by even the idea of having to expose themselves (face to face) at a ten minute (tick box) assessment (to a complete stranger) who is unlikely to be qualified to assess mental illness and even less likely to empathise. They are also despairingly aware that even if they are lucky enough to qualify for benefit it won't be long before the process begins again!  

Many are self-harming, some feel suicide may be a better option than continuing to battle both debilitating illness and the ‘powers that be’.

Some are far sicker now under a system that (in many cases) claims they are fit for work than they were under the previous system which recognised that they were NOT and supported them accordingly.

Am I afraid? (May 2013) Yes I’m afraid, very afraid! 

(Nov 2015)... Still afraid...and the line's still fine.

Has my own tendency to self-harm increased as a direct result of the coalition’s attitude towards disabled people?

Yes!  Though I’m ashamed to admit it, it has.

Do I want to continue living with this daily, nightly, debilitating fear?

NO! Oh God no!  

I can’t see an end to it, the future is scary, and my own symptoms of mental (and physical) illness have been greatly exacerbated.

Do I ever wonder if my husband, family, (The State) would do better without the-burden-of-me? 

Sometimes.

Do I feel suicidal? - Do I wish I were dead?

Those of you who know me either through contact or through my writing will already know the answer to this question! You’ll know that I am and always have been terrified of death. You will have read here >> Scared to shut my eyes! about my overwhelming fear of death as a child, you’ll know how terrifying my intrusive thoughts are and how often they relate to death.

NO - I don’t feel suicidal, I have NEVER felt suicidal no matter how much life, other people (or my own mind) has thrown at me.  No, I don't wish I were dead.

I  don’t wish I were dead now, and I didn’t in 1986 when life, other people (and my own chaotic mind) caused me to suffer a complete mental breakdown and I attempted to take my own life...

I don’t remember how I got to my bedroom that evening with a full bottle of ‘paracetamol’ and a pint glass of water. I don’t remember planning or contemplating suicide or for one single moment wishing I was dead.

I don’t remember thinking about my 8 month old baby or wondering how he would cope without me.

I don’t remember feeling suicidal, I don’t remember wanting to die.

I DO vaguely remember taking the pills.

There was no lining up of tablets like you see on TV, no thoughts, no fear, no emotion, no tears... there was *nothingness*.

I tipped the pills from bottle to mouth (how I swallowed so many at once is beyond me) and washed each mouthful down with water until there were no more pills to take.

There are some blurry (vague) memories after that, my first husband slapping me very hard (this confused me) – baby crying - arriving at hospital in an ambulance – a black tarry substance  - gagging on a tube - a drip – a white ceiling through a strange tunnel vision, then blank again.  Days of nothing, no thoughts, no emotion... *nothingness*!

I have never ‘contemplated’ suicide, BUT in ‘1986’ (20  years old, without so much as a passing thought for the first of my five children) I very nearly succeeded in taking my own life!

***

I had a point when I started writing today and I’m not sure if I’ve succeeded in making it, so briefly... 

For many mentally ill (and indeed, physically ill) people there is a very fine line between incredible strength, and *can’t take anymore*.  

I am deeply concerned that the UK Governments relentless cuts and cruel propaganda are pushing so many vulnerable people worryingly close to... *can’t take anymore*. 

***

POSITIVE THOUGHT

I'm now almost 30 years on, I'm still here, I cannot stress enough how thankful I am for that!

How thankful I'll feel this evening when my fifth child (my baby) rolls in from school and throws her smiley-gorgeous-self into my arms.

How thankful I am to be here when my older-no-longer-at-home-kids turn up needing Mum.

How Thankful-thrilled-bubbly-excited I will be in 7ish months time when I hold my first Grandbaby.

Life is tough at the moment, it has been to varying degrees for as long as I can remember but I feel incredibly blessed to be here.

If you're feeling vulnerable/at risk at the moment, dear reader, please, talk to someone...confide in someone you trust... a family member, friend (IRL or on line), a medical professional, support worker or carer.

***

Thank you, as always, for allowing me to share

God bless you and all those you love

Kimmie x

Before you go, can I ask that you consider signing the *NEW* #WOWpetition... in support of the UK's chronically sick & disabled people.

You'll find more details about the WOW-campaign HERE

The petition (should you wish to sign it) is HERE

You can follow/support the WOW-campaign on twitter HERE

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***

If I Could...

Iv'e been tagged by the lovely Laura, who blogs at My Life as a Mummy to take part in the 'If I Could' tag. Thanks Laura.

The idea is to answer the preset questions, daydreams allowed, and then tag other bloggers to take part (If they want to).

So here goes...

If I could live anywhere... Oh I'm so glad day dreams are allowed... If I could live anywhere, (anywhere, any time, any dream) I would choose 'Walnut Grove'... Except I'd have Pa build me a proper oven, cause I'm buggered if I could bake like Ma bakes in a tiny little hole to the side of the fire place. Oh, and I'd be needing an inside loo... how Ma manages to poo in that tiny little outhouse in THAT skirt, is beyond me.

A little house on the Prairie...where all the skies are blue (In my dreams they're always blue). Where all the people (with the exception of Mrs & Nelly Olsen) are kind and compassionate, peace loving, neighbourly.

Imagine washing in the creak, watching Pa (preferably topless, Pa should always be topless!) working the fields. walking through fields to get the kids to school. Kids that skip, and tag, and ring-a-rose.

Imagine a town where no one goes hungry, because as poor as they are they can always, always, stretch the stew to one more!

I do :)

If I could have any home ...This is a tough one because I love the house I'm in now, it's been home for a long time, I've always felt safe here, it's familiar, it's beautiful... it's home!

The trouble is, it's not my house, and as our Landlord has spent the past year attempting to sell it from under us (though currently it's off the market temporarily until neighbouring building work is completed) it's no longer safe! .

On that note, if I could have any home other than my current one (or 'The Little House on the Prairie')... it would be secure, safe, preferably owned.

It would have disability adaptions, (including wheelchair access) for Littlie... and a private, south facing garden, with a pretty little shabby-chic Lady-shed, to write in.

Actually, while I'm still day dreaming... I wouldn't mind one of those DIY-SOS jobbies...not least because then I'd get to meet Little-Leci-Billy- ;o)

If I could have any garden... That's easy...the garden I have now. I'd love to pick it all up, worms and all, and take it with me. As it is, since every plant in the garden attached to the-house-that's-not-mine was payed for and planted by me, I will be digging up anything remotely dig-up-able, and taking it with me.

If I could be on holiday right now... The reality is, fear prevents me from flying, it also prevents me from travelling (other than locally) in a car, and even if I could travel my budget wouldn't stretch to a holiday.

The dream is, Spain... I went to Spain (Marbella), for a week when I was eighteen, and would love to revisit.

Actually, I say a week... I fell in love with a gorgeous Spaniard and stayed put. Three months later I (and my broken heart) came home... Turned out Gorgeous-Spaniard wasn't mine to love, he had a wife and child in Lanzarote!

Despite the heartache (not to mention the shame), I still have such beautiful, and incredibly vivid memories of the places I visited, and the things I experienced whilst there.

Oh, how I'd love to walk those streets again - paddle those seas again - visit those cafes again - dunk those doughnuts again... "Un chocolate con churros por favor" :)

If I could have any job... Illness prevents me from working these days, but if I could work I'd go back to what I used to do before (and after, once they were old enough) I had children... caring for the elderly.

When I was a teenager my best friends Mum owned, lived in, and ran a home for the elderly, my friend and I worked Weekends as teenagers and went on to work there full time after leaving school, and then periodically after we both married and had children.

I loved every single minute of it... I'll never forget my ladies!

If I could have any talent... I don't need to think about this one, I'm reminded of my lack of talent in this area every day. I would LOVE to be able to sing.

I often sing along to music (I use the term loosely!) if I'm at home, but always mime anywhere else, even in Church; because there are no words to describe the unholy noise that comes out of my mouth when I sing out loud!

I've always been aware of my (tone-death-doesn't-cover-it) singing voice... I remember being as young as seven-ish and miming during assembly so that the other kids couldn't hear me, silently mouthing each word dramatically so as to appear believable if a teacher looked my way.

Turned out one teacher was looking my way; he picked me for the school choir... because, he said... I opened my mouth so beautifully when I sang. o_O

For the rest of that school year (wishing I was invisible, and still miming) I was sat at the front of the hall during assembly...with the rest of the choir!

If I could live one day again... - it would be the last day I saw my Dad.

My Dad lived a long way from me, and, as mentioned above, mental illness/fear prevents me from travelling. In February of this year (3 months before he died) my Dad, my always-there-and-if-he-wasn't-there-he-was-getting-there, Dad, came to me. Riddled with Cancer, barely able to stand, and in unimaginable pain, he came to me... he came to say goodbye.

We hugged lots, loved lots, talked as much as he could manage... goodbyes were left unspoken, neither of us able to say the words.

When he left, knowing how hard the moment was for him, I hugged him brave...like a grown up. The child inside was bawling, I didn't let her out.

He released my hold on him, kissed my head, and said "keep smiling babe", then he turned and walked down the garden path.

When he reached the gate he turned and looked straight at me, he held my gaze for only a moment before turning away again... in that moment I read my life time in his eyes... and I read his breaking heart, his I love you... his goodbye".

I didn't want to be brave anymore. I wanted to run down the path with the child's tears pouring down my face, throw myself into his arms, beg him to stay.

I stayed dry-eye-brave in the doorway until he'd disappeared through the gate. Then went into the toilet, stamped my feet like a child, and cried.

If I could live that day again... I'd run down the path!

If I could have any super power... Ooh, now then... can I have two?
Time travel would get me to 'the Walnut Grove' of the Ingalls's, but I've always quite fancied being Mary Poppins. If I were Mary Poppins... I could click my fingers and put the whole world to rights.

David Cameron...click...gone. George Osborne...click...gone. Iain Dunken Smith...
click, click, Dunky!
World peace...click...done. New home...click. Housework...click... *clicks fingers hopefully*.

I'm think I'm gonna go with Mary-Poppins-Power...
If I can jump into pictures, travel by brolly, and have tea on a ceiling, I reckon time travel will be a breeze...
Walnut Grove here I come... Just as soon as I've outed the Tories ;o)

Thank you for allowing me to share

God bless you and all those you love

Kimmie x

I tag the following people

Carol - carolhedges.blogspot.co.uk

Lizzi - summat2thinkon 

Henrietta - https://thetriumphantweed.wordpress.com/

Stephanie - http://stephanieneighbour.com 

Lynn - thegrumblinggargoyle.blogspot.co.uk

Paula - http://paulareednancarrow.com 

Elena - http://www.livingwithbatman.com/

Shawna - honeyquill.com

Dear tagged... Please feel free to ignore the prompt if you are busy, or if  blog tags are not something you usually take part in.

Dear reader... Please do visit the bloggers in the above list if you have time. They are all fabulous bloggers...well worth reading :o) 

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Poem... That Cam-I-Am

That ‘Cam-I-am’ 

That ‘Cam-I-am’ 

I do not like that ‘Cam-I-am’

I do not like him here or there  

I do not like him anywhere

I do not like him on my telly

smoke-screen grin... state funded belly

I do not like him in my head

invading dreams when I'm in bed

I do not like his policies

his attitude to those in need

I do not like his spare room charge

homes (he says), are far too large

while he and his, and them and theirs

homes (state funded), rooms to spare

looking down on me and mine

and you and yours, and yours and theirs!

You homeless poor man....? 

'Cam' don’t care!

That ‘Cam-I-am' 

That ‘Cam-I-am’ 

I do not like that ‘Cam-I-am

Not in my head, not here or there

I do not like him anywhere

I do not like his common(s) trough

piggy chums, (state funded) scoff

I do not like his welfare war

feed the rich, starve the poor

His food-bank-Britain... Eton mess

Cameron - Osborne - IDS

“Scrounger, skiver,  feckless slob”

“sick, disabled? - GET A JOB!” 

PIP PIP (pardon the pun), state funded wine

looking down on me and mine

and you and yours, and yours and theirs

You hungry poor man...?

'Cam' don’t care!

That ‘Cam-I-am’ 

That ‘Cam-I-am’ 

I do not like that 'Cam-I-am'. 

Copyright©2015kimmie All Rights Reserved

Thank you for allowing me to share 

God bless you, and all those you love 

Kimmie x 

***

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The WOWcampaign today launches a new e-petition!

The WOWcampaign today launches a new e-petition to remind the Government that they have failed to honour the parliamentary motion in support of the WOWpetition. 

You can sign WOWpetition here

Today the WOWcampaign launches a new petition on the Government ...
e-petition website, e-petition 106068¹. It calls for the Government to “Assess full impact of all cuts to support & social care for disabled people”. The WOWcampaign have taken this action 18 months after the original “WOWpetition” was debated in the House of Commons because little has happened since, save for sick and disabled people being targeted by further cuts.

Continue reading here

Do I want to get rid of Cameron? - Hell Yes!

Remembering the Thatcher years, I was horrified when, in may 2010, David Cameron (enabled by Nick 'sorry-not-sorry' Clegg) slipped into power, along with the likes of George 'go-figure' Osborne, and Ian 'don't-give-a-damn' Smith.

Now, after five years of Cameron and co, the rich are richer and the poor are poorer, well, I expected that!
I knew the Tories wouldn't have any interest in, or feeling for, the 'common' people.... but (and this is a big BUT!) I never expected them to hurt people like me, or my daughter!

Why? - What might exclude us (and others like us) from Tory 'wickedness'?

Well, my child and I are both disabled - they wouldn't go after disabled people, would they?

****

Over the past five years the coalition (Tory) Governments draconian cuts, cruel assessments, and relentless propaganda have pushed (many) sick, disabled, and mentally ill people worryingly close to the edge - pushed some (largely unreported by the media) 'too far!'

My daughter and I didn't choose disability, she certainly didn't; she was born disabled. There's not a lot we can do to change our 'scrounger' status, either we take the 'handouts' (social security) from the same pot my husband paid into for years I might add, or we starve!

Of course, my 'Littlie' (going on 10, with a mental age of 5) has no idea that (Thanks to Tory/media rhetoric) our family would be judged negatively (by some) she has no idea that Cameron and Co have attempted to create a Britain that may not welcome the disabled adult she will one day become.

I know though! I know, and I am afraid, afraid for myself, afraid for my disabled friends, afraid for all (reliant) disabled people living in Britain.... but above all else, afraid for my child!

Many disabled people have had their lives turned upside down over the past five years - some have not survived the onslaught.

Vulnerable people, who (and I should know) are desperately afraid - deeply affected by right wing 'scrounger' propaganda, and increasingly concerned about their future.

People who's symptoms of illness/disability (in many cases, including my own) have been greatly exacerbated by an overwhelming fear of the next WCA (Work capability Assessment)
An assessment interrogation that often ignores their own doctors opinion in a deliberate attempt to strip them of benefits.

Mentally ill people who are terrified by even the idea of having to expose themselves (face to face) at a ten minute (tick box) assessment (to a complete stranger) who is unlikely to be qualified to assess Mental Illness, and even less likely to empathise.

People who are despairingly aware, that even if they are lucky enough to pass the assessment, it won't be long before the process begins again.

Many are self-harming, some feel/or have felt that suicide may be a better option than continuing to battle both debilitating mental illness/disability, and the 'powers that be'.

As most of you know (physical disabilities aside) my own symptoms of Mental Illness interfere with my ability to cope with many everyday activities without the support of my husband, and those things I do manage alone, are only doable if he's nearby.
I could give for instances but we'd be here all day; so I won't.

Most significantly, for the purpose of this post, is that my disabilities prevent me from working, and also from caring for my disabled child alone....and, as I'm unable to function at home, or outdoors without support, it also prevents my husband from working.

Although, given that I care for my disabled child (to the best of my abilities) with hubby's help, and he cares for us both (full time) with no help, I'd ask those who see fit to judge us (with all due respect, Mr Cameron) to define *hard working people*.

I'm terrified of the benefits system, I fear the dreaded brown envelope (DWP letter) every day - the sound of the post man fiddling with the letter box puts me on edge before anything hits the mat - the site of any brown envelope on the hall floor puts me in a state of panic, which continues to have a negative affect on me long after hubs has checked the contents, and reassured me that today is not the day that I will have to begin AGAIN the process of proving how disabled I am!

It's a daily, overwhelming fear....I have no idea when the next letter will come, but one thing is certain - It will come!

If, after that next assessment, the powers that be decide that we are no longer (in their opinion) entitled to support, I will STILL be disabled, my daughter will STILL be disabled, and my husband will STILL be a full time carer. The ONLY difference (other than making us sicker) such a decision would make; is that we would have nothing to live on!

We're less than a week away from General Election 2015 (time of writing) and I'm terrified the Tory's might manage to 'lie' their way in for another term, because, dear reader, if they do; they will be coming for me and mine, and quite possibly (if you are reliant, or become so) you and yours too, and there won't be a damn thing we can do about it!

Thank you for allowing me to share

GOD bless you and all those you love

Kimmie x                                                     Copyright©2012kimmie All Rights Reserved

NB: The above thoughts, observations, opinions, are based on my own experiences, and those of disabled people I know, or who's experiences I have read about. I do not presume to speak for all disabled people.

POSITIVE THOUGHT

PRAYER

LORD, I pray for all sick and disabled people who have died, and for all who mourn them. Amen

Related posts:
I do not like that Cam-I-am
A Fine Line

#Poem 'Stuck-In-Scared'

Copyright©2015kimmie All Rights Reserved 

Thank you for allowing me to share

God bless you, and all those you love

Kimmie x

I am...

When other mental health sufferers say they are ashamed (many of them are, for one reason or another) I'm usually the first to respond with - "You have nothing to be ashamed of, you can't help being ill" - and I mean it!

However, I'm afraid it's a case of 'Take my advice, I'm not using it', because there really is no other word than 'ashamed' that describes how I feel, overwhelmingly so, and have felt for a very long time.

My 'shame' might not be rational, but it is 'my' truth, and that's what this space is for.

I AM

I AM MUM - To my youngest child (as I once was to my older children) I am story teller - sock puppet  - Tickle monster - make-believer - hugger - hand holder - love; no questions asked.

My four older children are a different story - these days (though they try hard to hide it) they are uncomfortable around me, resentful, ashamed.

They're no longer babies, I can't hide behind, sand castles, sock puppets, and 'sing a song of sixpence' anymore.

They don't understand mental illness, they can't see 'Stuck-In-Scared - but they can see whats going on externally, and it frightens them.

I love my kids and they love me. I have never set out to hurt them, but (without meaning to) hurt them (emotionally) I have!

I am ashamed.

I AM WIFE - I am the wife who almost drove my husband away, because I was blind to how my illness affected him.

He says that blinded by my mental illness (which in fairness has been greatly exacerbated this past few years) he lost sight of ‘me’ - he’s sorry - he loves me - he’ll never hurt me again.

I blame myself - I'm looking into his eyes, and seeing, Where I once saw special, everything I despise about myself reflected back at me.

I am ashamed.

I AM ADDICT (In recovery) - I am the woman who, consumed by symptoms of mental illness, used gambling as a form of escapism. despite knowing she was hurting herself, and those she loved.

I am the grown woman who once sat on a stool in a bingo hall, and wet herself because she'd pumped too much money into a fruit machine to chance another punter stealing her win while she went to the loo!

I am the mother who was often late picking her children up from school because she couldn't walk away - who struggled to feed her children, and went hungry herself, because she'd gambled best part of the housekeeping.

I am the mother, who (up until ten years ago) thought more often about her next bet, than she did her children, and her older children remember that!

I am ashamed

I AM OCD -  "I see the brush slam down onto the back of my beloved child's head. I hear her desperate screams as the brush comes crashing down! I see myself standing over her, a stranger masking my face, the mask vaguely familiar and yet at the same time completely unrecognizable! I see my child confused, hysterical and consumed with fear beneath me. I repel with every fiber of my being against the *illusory images*; my heart breaks!" read more

I am ashamed

(Please be aware, the above paragraph has been recycled from an old post, and is about intrusive thoughts, a symptom of OCD - NOT child abuse, you can read the paragraph in context by clicking on the (read more) link above. Thank you.

I AM SELF HARM - Sometimes I feel desperate, sometimes I feel angry, unimaginably angry, angry at me, sometimes I crave feelings of relief, calm, control - sometimes I just need to feel.

I starve, burn, cut, bleed, I am visibly scarred.

I am ashamed

I AM AGORAPHOBIA - I'm unable to go anywhere alone, unable to go out at all some days.

Despite being accompanied in public, I often experience catastrophic thoughts, often experience paranoia, and sometimes experience panic attacks  - sometimes it's clear to onlookers that I have issues, my awareness of this exacerbates anxiety, and shame.

My inability to go anywhere alone places a great burden on my family, especially my husband.

I am ashamed.

I AM EATING DISORDER -  probably the most terrifying symptom of mental illness Iv'e experienced yet, and the one I find the most difficult to write about.

This relatively new addition to my mental health issues frightens the life out of me, and I simply cannot find any 'justifiable' reason for starving myself half to death when I have five children who need me to be strong, and ALIVE!

I am ashamed.

(2016 edit...I have made some progress since this post was published, two years ago. I'm still unable to eat in front of people, and my eating is still somewhat disordered, but I am eating now (as opposed to surviving on cuppa-soup and coffee) and my weight is within a healthier range...there is progress. I'm not there yet, but I'm getting there... I think.)

I AM BENEFIT CLAIMANT - My youngest child and I are both disabled, my husband is our carer, we didn't ask to be a burden on society (Tory words, not mine) but we are - we take the 'social security' (incidentally, from the same system, that my husband paid into for 20 years, before taking on the role of full time carer) or we are unable to survive. 

Fear of the Government, the media, and the benefit system, fear of those in society who have no understanding of invisible illness/disability, and are taken in by the 'scrounger' rhetoric, has led to a dramatic increase in my symptoms, and has caused an Eating disorder, that I did not have prior to the UK Governments combined attack against welfare recipients.

It seems these days its almost impossible to read a newspaper without the words, liar - cheat 'scrounger', jumping out from the page.

I feel judged - by Government - media - society....I'm afraid that you, dear reader, may be judging me right now!

I am ashamed.

I AM DISABLED - Damaged 'stock', a drain on loved ones, a drain on the state.

I am ashamed.

POSITIVE THOUGHT

I AM ME - I am Me - I'm loving, kind, empathetic. Compassionate, generous, passionate. Creative.

I have a child-like way about me (not always a good thing), a wicked sense of humour, and a heart for the hurting.

I like Christmas, a lottle (that's like a little but a lot). I'm obsessed with Betty Boop; there may be more Boops in my house than there are in the Boop-Shop.

I love: Clouds, the sound and smell of the rain, the sun on my face, sand between my toes. Sausage meat between my fingers (that's not as mad as it sounds). Paddling. Puddle jumping. Mud between my toes. Being with my kids. Cappuccino!

I hate: Cruelty. The current UK Government. War. Greed. Fish (unless it's cod...cod's okay). Oh, and the wind; I HATE the wind, it's so... so irritatingly-windy!

I have a fabulous imagination, and the ability to get right down on a child's level, and I mean right down; like 50 going on five down, so I make a great playmate, Where my relationship with my children is concerned, these qualities are my saving grace.

PRAYER

Lord, I pray that the eyes of those who 'see it how it isn't', be opened, and the voices of those 'who tell it how it is', be heard. Amen.

Thank you for allowing me to share

God bless you and all those you love

Kimmie x

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A Fine Line
Agoraphobia (poem)
 Where I once saw special
Stranger Within

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'A Rant'

I am disabled - my daughter is disabled!
I care for my daughter with hubby's help he cares for us both with no help.
It's tough - really tough!

My mental illness has been greatly exacerbated because of the constant media comments aimed at sick and disabled people! Aimed at me and mine!

Before the conservatives began their cruel campaign against the most vulnerable people in society I was just about managing (with huge restriction and controls in place) to cope! My husband was managing to get through most days with a smile on his face and our daughter was the center of our world.

Today we (more often than not) just about manage existence!
I live in constant overwhelming fear of Government, media and DWP, my husband feels useless because he is powerless against those who seek to destroy us and our daughter who has complex care needs is caught up in the middle wondering why mummy rarely plays anymore and daddy doesn't smile!

I keep hoping we will all wake up to find that the past two years have been an awful, irrational nightmare!
I never voted or trusted the 'Tories' but never for one minute did I think that they would attack me or my child. Why? Because we are bloody disabled and that alone is enough - Don't you think?! We deal with more than our fair share of difficulties, every day is a struggle!

Its bloody inhumane! They are hurting so many vulnerable people and they simply don't care.
How on earth are they getting away with it!

Enough Mr Cameron, we have had enough - we can't take much more!
May God forgive you because I can't!

Phew....! rant over. As you were.

Thank you for allowing me to share

PRAYER
LORD I pray your blessing over all vulnerable people. Your will be done. Amen

POSITIVE THOUGHT
I'm sorry but with all due respect I can't think of one! My mind is still on David bloody Cameron &CO!

God bless you and all those you love

Kimmie x