The Ugly Proof

Did I mention that I'm running thirteen sodding miles for Mind in September? Yup, I'm doing the Great North Run & guess what.. You can sponsor me! Please sponsor me...PLEASE! Just click to see my fundraising page or click to see my reasons for running!

I'll be keeping a log of my training. Today OH kindly showed me how to strech beforehand (I had previously just been doing the stretches we learned from school) but I'm convinced he was just trying to make me look like a douche.

The previous run I went for was a 3 mile run about a week & a half ago which took me 31 minutes. I was dying by the time I got home! Today's run was a simple 2 mile run, round a new route. It took me 24 minutes, which means I'm worse! Onwards, onwards & no slacking I guess is the answer! Damn!

Just to prove I have actually run, take a look at the colour in those cheeks, sexy!

Running for the Mind

Holy crap. Have you heard?

I've signed up to take part in the Bupa Great North Run 2012. I'm running to raise money for Mind - the mental health charity. They do good work. They do great work & if you'd like to read about it rather than me re-hashing it in an incomprehensible gush of admiration, you should just visit their site - www.mind.org.uk - or follow them on Twitter @MindCharity

Why Mind? Well, as you may or may not have heard, or deduced, I've been struggling through the murky depths of depression & anxiety. I've been pretty damn mental for the past year or so. Even more so than usual that is. There are lots of great mental health charities out there, some of which have helped me during tougher times, usually via the wonderful platform that is Twitter, but Mind have such reach & have offered me such a lot of advice & support that I should like to give a little something back, in order to help other who have been in similar situations.

Why run? I keep asking myself this. 13 miles. 13 bloody miles. Argh! Well, I've signed up now & there's no wriggling out of it. I love running & before I fell pregnant for the second time I was just getting very into running & was feeling all the better for it. Running is something that helps both my physical & mental wellbeing & to have a goal like doing a half marathon for such a worthy cause will hopefully help me to feel better at the same time as being healthy for my girls & donating to such a good cause. Everyone wins.

That's not to say that I'm not bricking it all ready. 13 sodding miles.

Bloody hell!

So, to have a good old laugh at my expense, please help me reach the £300 target & sponsor me!


Just follow this link: http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/ChloeSkinnerMind

Any amount is greatly appreciated & it's for such a good cause - the wellbeing, health & happiness of others. 

Alternatively, you can click the pic of me looking like a slightly smug runner to the right hand side of this post to donate at anytime! It only takes a couple of secs, do it, dooo iiit!  

To see how your donations are being used, take a look at this: http://www.mind.org.uk/thisismind


I'd also ask you to share this wherever you can too. Whether you've experienced mental illness first hand, had a family member struggle or are just a believer that everyone should have the support they need to be happy & healthy then please, please help me!

13 shitting miles. THIRTEEN.

The Battle

I know how stupid I sound. In fact, I know how ridiculous all this really is - the tense feeling in my chest, the writhing in my stomach & the hot surges of adrenaline that burst through me for the smallest of reasons. I know that this is all caused by some malfunction, some imbalance in my brain. It's just that I'm going a bit wrong & I know that it can be fixed. I know all this & yet, just knowing is not enough to make it stop.

I want to finish this & I want to finish it now.

For a change, my moods have been good & I've felt as though the suffocating presence of the beast that is my depression has lifted somewhat. The beast has retreated for a while. I can breathe now, but I cannot relax. The anxiety makes me feel sick, so sick that I find it difficult to eat, that is when I remember to. I am excruciatingly aware of the fact that I must eat for it to abate & I am feeling stronger - my fight is back - yet the beast has changed. It can't hold me in it's grasp & smother me at the moment & so it is trying to trip me instead.

Sometimes I feel as though I am battling so hard & so well that I am on the edge of victory, but never have a been able to end the fight & most of times I don't believe I ever will. I think this could be something that I will have to do for the rest of my life. I can only hope that the beast will tire & some of the time I will get to rest. I will get to breathe; smile; be.

As I write, there is a wave of sickness & dizziness sweeping over me. I often forget to eat & when I do eat I eat crap. I'm paranoid & terrified that I will drop down dead from some sort of heart attack due to poor diet & being underweight (I'm not underweight - yet) & it all goes in those ever turning circles. I wish knowing was enough to make it stop. I wish that I could just snap my fingers & get on with life, but at the moment I feel weary & worn. Tomorrow, I will get up & I will show strength some more, but for how long?

The gaps between the dark days are getting longer. I see the sun is shining, both outside & inside my minds eye, more often than it has for a long time & my good days really are good ones. They are good instead of not-so-bad days. But the bad days? Well, they are brief & sparse & I am so thankful for this but they seem more intense, they hurt more. There is anger in the mix too. I think this is a show of my strength returning but my anger is often wrongly directed.

Overall, I'm positive & I feel as though this is a new stage of the journey. The conrtast is greater but I have the upper hand now.

There's light, people. There's a little ray of light.

Groovy Mums & Cafe Bebe's Real Mummy Tummies

Kate's first challenge this week was this:

1. Body – do you love or loathe your body? Celebrate the fact you are a mum by posting here http://cafebebe.co.uk/2012/02/real-mummy-tummies/

Now, after two children it is definitely fair to say that my body is very different from before I sarted (though I didn't have much time to appreciate just how lovely my body back then was, as I 'fell' pregnant for the first time when I was the fair age of 18) but not in the way you might expect. Cafe Bebe is celebrating real mummies & their real tummies over on her blog & I totally get behind her on that. Mummies go through a hell of a lot, more than anyone could imagine & when celebrities flash their perfect post-baby bodies in our face it is, as she says, bloody infuriating. It isn't normal & it puts totally unrealistic pressure on top of all the other pressures that women all ready suffer in our vain society.

Having said that, here is me 6 weeks after giving birth to my second baby, about to go for my first run since I found out I was pregnant for the second time.

Now before you spit at the screen & slam your laptop shut, please read a little further as I explain...

When I found out I was pregnant I was a healthy 10st 8lb (which is the higher side of a decent BMI for 5ft 7in) & I enjoyed running & salads, as well as cake & takeaways! Now, 11 weeks after having the wee one, I am 9st. I don't have a nanny, personal trainer (though technically my OH is a qualified fitness person thing but I'll be damned if I can get him to give me any training for free) & I certainly don't have a chef - though I would not say no! - but what I did have after the birth of my wee girl was a lot of blood loss. Thankfully, the staff at the hospital knew that this could happen as, when I had my first baby, I bled so much after the cesarean that they offered me a blood transfusion (I said no & spent the first year of her life weighing between 7st & a half and 8 stone, due mostly to anaemia etc. but also to stress & anxiety & an unrealistic view of myself. This was not a good time in my life).

What I'm getting at is that, yes I was lucky enough to have a small bump in both pregnancies & to weigh less than when I fell pregnant in both pregnancies & I appreciate that I can fit back into my skinny jeans, however I am not healthy. I've been running twice since having the baby & I can tell you that I was dying. My baby is a very hungry one & I haven't been able to keep up with feeding her, whereas I think that if I had a little more on me & a bigger appetite myself (I sometimes struggle with eating properly as I have PND, but this is something I feel is getting better) then I would have been able to do more for her.

It's so important to be healthy, not just for ourselves, but for our babies too, & it's even more important to remember that healthy doesn't necessarily mean thin. Healthy is something that is on the inside & appearances can certainly be deceptive.

It's also worth mentioning, as this is about real Mummies' bodies, that in this picture I am wearing two bras. It's now a necessity if I go running & if I wasn't then you wouldn't be able to see half of my tummy. I would show you a picture, but I think there might be a law against this!

Damn Sentimental Me.

Happy New Year one & all! Has 2012 been off to a good start for you this year? Or perhaps you are nonplussed - do you celebrate an alternative New Year? I'd love to hear.

For me, I don't find that I become overly reflective with the passing of a year but I always note how much has changed. This year, like many others has been a jam-packed one for me. It seems that I'm destined to live my life in the fast lane, as it were. So much happens from year to year I can hardly keep up.

I saw in 2011 in the company of some wonderful friends. I was single & surrounded by couples. I was pretty drunk & had a lot of fun dancing like an idiot on the 'slippy floor' of my favourite friend's dining room.

This year I was in the company of a wonderful friend, my other half & some of his lovely friends. I obviously am very un-single now, & furthermore, we have a gorgeous new addition to our family. We were all pretty sober & spent the evening eating crisps & chocolate in our living room.

I'm not one for resolutions - as I've mentioned in previous posts I'm bloody useless at keeping them - but I think that the beginning of a year offers the chance to plan ahead. This year I am looking forward to spending time with the children: watching them grow; enjoying our time (in between tellings-off & naughty-step placement) & most of all just being Mummy.

An important journey that I embarked upon last year & shall be continuing on this year is one regarding my mental health. I've been suffering from anxiety & the subsequent depression which has been ruling my life for the past year or so. It was only about half way through that I realised that it was a real problem. I thought for years that this feeling was just me being a fuck-up, not being able to be like other people. I just thought it was how I was, it never occurred to me that there may be help - a solution.

Since opening up, I've found that actually & quite sadly this is a common problem. A lot of people suffer & what is more, many suffer in silence. Like me, they think that is something they are just doing wrong or believe that there is shame to admit they feel so. When I decided it was time to start talking, as the depression was starting to rule my life, I initially did so to my partner & then explored some unofficial internet support groups, mainly on the website I sell crafts on. It took me a while to be able to open up to close friends & though I blog fairly openly about it I still haven't expressly told any of my wider circle of peers what I'm dealing with. This is mainly because it is not relevant, but is also due in part to fear of being judged. That is going to change. If relevant, then I shan't have any concerns about mentioning it in future, but the part I have struggled with the most is the scariest part of depression, which has only reared its head this year - at some extreme low points I have wondered what, exactly, is the point of pathetic me being here. That is to say I have felt suicidal. It sounds melodramatic & wholly ridiculous but it is damn scary. Thankfully, it is not something that I've felt since the birth of my second little girl & it is not something I ever want to feel again.

I was surprised to find that some too of my close friends have been struggling with such issues too, some for years. Like me, they hadn't really opened up but eventually I think we all just reached breaking point. We have always been close but much more so recently & though I would wish for no one to feel what I have been feeling, I have taken immense comfort in having somebody understanding to talk to & being able to support others when they're having a bad day & often when I feel I have been there for someone it makes me feel as though my life is not completely pointless. I love my friends, of course I always have, but this year all of them have been there for me when I really needed it & I couldn't have made it through without them. I am very lucky (& now I'm shedding a bit of a tear. Damn, sentimental me!).

With this in mind I have been wondering lately why there is no obvious support group for people tackling mental illness. I know that this is partly due to the stigma attached to all things brain-related & though there are some amazing people trying to wrestle this stereotype into submission it is still something that people feel uncomfortable with voicing & hearing. I feel that there needs to be something out there, with a big neon sign saying "Feeling mental? Come join the club - it's normal!".

People should have the right to voice their own feelings (should they choose to) without feeling labelled or diminished. They should also have the right to access support easily even out of 'office hours'.

So this year, in light of all I've said, I want to help myself & others. In fact I think that by helping others I probably would help myself too. All the bullshit around mental illness needs to be labelled as exactly that & I want to play a part in that.

Watch this space.

If you have any ideas, input, opinions, thoughts then please, please, get in touch. I would love to hear from anyone who has suggestions or experience in this field & details of how I can play a part in this, big or small.

You can email me at chloe.skinner@hotmail.co.uk
or find me on Twitter at @PeaGreenGwin
or even on Facebook by searching for Our Pea Green Pod

Wishing you all the best for 2012, I look forward to whatever this journey brings.

PS.

This year, I'd like to take part in the 366 day challenge, whereby you post a photo every day.

Don't ask me how I'm going to manage this, I'm flaky at the best of times, but it definitely sounds fun!

Today is just wanted to share with you some sumptuous roses which are sat on my desk. They were brought to me by a lovely, lovely lady. This is what makes friends so special - she is the best!

Nothing profound

I sat down in the room with the kindly-looking stranger who was my new midwife.

"Have you got your notes with you?" she asked with a smile.

"Oh..." I stumbled, remembering that I'd forgotten, "...no, I totally forgot them, I'm terrible for that at the moment!" I said truthfully with a casual ai & my slightly nervous laugh.

"Oh, right..." she said in a serious tone that I didn't expect her to use from her initial warm demeanour "They must be in your handbag at all times, otherwise we would no nothing about you if something were to happen."

I instantly felt foolish. I'm forgetful at the best of times, never mind when I've a baby-brain. I wanted to cry.

"How have you been feeling?" she asked in a warmer tone.

I told her nervously that I had been okay, that this week had been a better week, but I was hesitantly honest with her. I felt a little foolish again as I told her that I just wasn't coping so well, but that I had spoken to the Doctor about it & arrangements were in place for me to see a member of the mental health team. I wondered how she would react, whether she would tell me it was probably my low iron levels as the last midwife suspected or whether she would take me more seriously. I told her, as I had told the Doctor the previous week, that I had always felt like this but now it was different, because it was ruling my life & the bad & sad feelings outweighed the good & stable feelings.

She reacted sympathetically & gently asked me questions about it. I didn't feel so foolish.

She then took my blood pressure, measured my bump & listened to the baby's heartbeat. Everything was completely fine - my bump measured about what it should at 33 weeks she informed me, even though I am nearly 35 weeks.

"...but that's okay because you're allowed about 2 weeks either way." she said with a smile & the initial kindliness I had experienced as I'd entered the room. "It probably means that the baby will be about 6lb or so."

PHEW. I was was relieved that she hadn't said it was too small, as they had said with Daughter & but even more so that she had said it would be a healthy but small baby. I felt much more relaxed now, after spilling the nervous crazy to her & knowing that the baby was happy in there but not about to cause me an awful lot of pain on its way into the world - hopefully anyway!

That was my morning. Everything is okay - & everything is going to be okay. Nothing profound to see here but certainly no bad news, unless you count my total memory loss.

Putting notes in handbag now.

Did a little dance; Made a little Love[Owl]...

This week, besides over-eager consumption of Ovaltine, we have been trying to spend time - real meaningful time. Therefore packing has taken a back seat (where I expect it to stay until about two evenings before we're due to move when I will be frantically throwing random objects into unsuitable containers) & instead we have had some lovely activities on the go.

I finished my previous job on Thursday & all though I have been a little busier than usual with preparation for the opening of the new/old cafe that I shall be working at (new/old because I worked there for the previous owner who also happens to be a wonderful friend too), it really has felt blissful to have a weekend all to ourselves.

On Thursday I got all too excited about the choice of coffee for the new cafe (celebratory dancing & a wide grin in anticipation of a coffee tasting on Monday - though I will have to spit so as not to create a hyper child!).

On Friday I made a little Love Owl (#1)

Daughter was quite taken with him, but alas he was purposefully made to sell ~ here ~ so we decided that we should make our own, for her to treasure.

I think that I shall certainly treasure him in future - he's a joint effort, Mummy did the outline & Daughter chose her colours & [with a little guidance & tips on how not to brutally destroy a paint brush] gave them to him. She then, of course, signed her mark - a backwards 'E', followed by a forwards 'E' (clearly done on-purpose...) - & I duly dated it 2011 & made note of her being age 3. Certain to say there was much pride from both of us.

The weekend held a trip so see some lesser-seen family & some much appreciated fish & chips, gobbled with greedy delight in the perfect warmth of Friday evening sunshine.

There was shopping on Saturday... a pram was chosen... very exciting... & today, well today we decadently layed in until our stomachs decided that it was time for pancakes (crepes) & later took an amble in our wellies to get much-needed supplies for yet another indoor picnic.

This evening consisted of me taking apart of my coffee grinder. I now have rather oily hands & a lovely aroma but best of all the cleanest coffee grinder in all of the North East of England at the very least!

This weekend was one of the loveliest & I feel more than lucky that a lot of times recently have been some of the loveliest.

My man is strong & loving; My daughter is short, perfectly-formed & cherished; My bump is petite, all in front & contains a healthy babe. How could I be more blessed?