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Question the 'Should'

I bet you slip the word ‘should’ into your vocabulary all the time. ‘I really should…’ or ‘I shouldn’t..’
Every time we do this, we are are trying to keep ourselves in check, telling ourselves we ‘should’ feel guilty if we don’t do what we feel we ‘should’ do. It’s an opportunity to conform to norms that are decided by ourselves, other people or society. It’s not always a bad thing, but it’s something that I always question with clients.

“I shouldn’t be upset about this”. Well, why not?? Who’s telling you that you ‘shouldn’t or who are you using as a comparison in order to invalidate your feelings and needs into something to be dismissed?

When we use the word ‘should’ or ‘shouldn’t’ we are often reinforcing the negative or the fact that we are doing something out of duty or in denial of our feelings. I’m not saying you ‘shouldn’t do all the things you feel that you ‘should’ do. I’m saying that language has a huge affect, and it’s sometimes worth thinking about where we have got the beliefs that we ‘should’ do certain things or feel certain ways. It’s about reclaiming back some power, some choice and some responsibility.

Maybe change it for ‘could’?

Some food for thought! xxx

Don’t Be Fooled

It’s in our nature to present the best bits of our homes, faces; relationships, lives, children. I mean, why wouldn’t we! We KNOW that they are the best bits, we know that there are messy piles out of shot, that the momentary smile has been the only one in the day amidst the grumpy whining, or that the gorgeous meal at the fancy restaurant on holiday we shot, didn’t actuallllly taste that fab.So WHY then do we choose to buy into other’s representation of the better parts of their lives, their best angles, their tidy corners? No, we make a vast and dangerous assumption this is their normality throughout, and we end up self-critical and dis-enchanted.

Even the great parts of our lives fall under this shadow, thus we lose gratitude and enjoyment.

We know the truth of our own circumstances. We know our lives aren’t full of happy faces and ever-clean worktops. So, let’s continue to share the nice photos, but also write and share the rawer side of the truth too. But, lets choose to stop believing the total crap that the snapshots we see of other people’s lives, are the full picture.

Here’s my kitchen right now after a happy whirlwind of friends, kids and @blom_cards packing!

Move

Some days, we breeze through until we fall into bed tired and content. Some days feel like trudging through sticky treacle, every step requiring strength and muscle, and we fall into bed surprised that we made it through.Some people have more treacle days than others, for some, they are few and far between. Some treacle days are caused by circumstances – work stress, family dramas. Some treacle days are caused by black, hovering clouds inside tired minds.

Move.

Just keep moving.

Some days you’ll leap energetically. Some days it’s one step in front of the other. Some days, it’s tiny little baby steps inching and shuffling through the moments. But the important thing is that you move.

HOW?

1 – Identify what is keeping you stuck where you are. Is it fear of failure?

For some, to move is to be at work on time, to stay awake through meetings. For others, to move is just to make the difficult step of getting out of bed and getting dressed. Perhaps it’s perfectionism or depression. Try and identify what’s holding you where you are.

2 – Start small.

It’s not about ‘winning at life’, it’s about showing up. Be kind to yourself. What little, achievable thing can you do to ‘move’ forward today? Maybe it’s a little shake up of the usual routine, or perhaps it’s about making a call you’ve been avoiding, or jumping into the shower instead of living in your pj’s until the afternoon. Maybe you need to see a friend for encouragement or wisdom.

Whatever you do…just take one step (no matter how small) today that moves you forwards.

What helps you when you’re feeling stuck? xx

Dream On

Sleep! I don’t know about you, but sleep has a direct affect on my emotional and mental health. Oh and physical too! Lack of sleep trashes my tolerance for whining kids, stress and….you know, life.
What are your sleep habits like? Are you a tea and iPad before bed kinda person? Or a hot bath and a good book?

We are a sleep deprived culture! I’ve got some tried and tested tips for you! Recently I’ve had a little breakthrough.. I have often had big patches of insomnia, plus issues with lying awake for hours in the night. I’ve had days that begin at 3.30am due to a wired brain. I have dealt with chronic sleep deprivation with Charlie’s reflux (I’m talking 90 minutes a night, not able to string a sentence together, drive, or stop crying kind of sleep deprivation). When I’m hyped up and excited, anxious or stressed, I get this hyperawareness and buzz that stops me winding down and relaxing. I have a stash of sleep aids in my bedside table, from prescription knock-outs to herbal schmerbal stuff.

However, they’ve recently gone untouched…. I’ve had a breakthrough. I’m not counting my chickens but these things have REALLY helped!

1 – No screen time before bed. I’ve switched from reading a book on my iPhone, to reading a paper book. To calm my mind, I have to read before I sleep as it turns my attention from the internal buzz.

2 – Yoga/relaxation breathing. Have a google of the Body Scan. It’s a phased relaxation technique where you tense and release every muscle in turn.

3 – Aromatherapy. I’m a little obsessed with oils at the moment and the Doterra Serenity oil is THE BOMB! It’s like liquid relaxation. I’m going to get a second diffuser for my bedroom so I can diffuse it. I’ve also been using the This Works Sleep Spray, and the Lush ‘Sleepy’ body lotion (all of these were recommended by you when I had a run of shocking nights…thanks so much). 4 – Write it down! Writing these posts for you for GROWTOBER and working so hard on the @blom_cards has also really helped me. Revisiting many of these mental health tips has refreshed them in my mind

Hope this helps

World Mental Health Day

Here’s to being OPEN. For openness leads to FREEDOM. Here’s to the end of secrets and shame. Here’s to hugs and kindly faces. Here’s to the TRUTH that we aren’t alone. Here’s to the END of silencing our own anxiety, depression and neuroses. Here’s to HOPE that THERE IS A WAY through. Here’s to the tentative budding choice to believe that WE ARE WORTH IT. Here’s to tears of RELIEF that comes when we take the risk of talking to the right people. Here’s to the beginning of the END OF STIGMA. Here’s to the start of VALUING our own processes. Here’s to RECONCILIATION. Families and relationships REBUILT. Here’s to RECOVERY. Here’s to the investment in making KINDER choices. Here’s to SELF CARE even if it feels unnatural at first. Here’s to picking up the phone to SUPPORT NETWORKS. Here’s to daring to LEAN ON others. Here’s to learning more about what it feels to be ACCEPTED and the conscious act of letting yourself be LOVED. Here’s to chipping away at the power we’ve given abusers and bullies and CLAIMING BACK our ground. Here’s to TAKING UP SPACE in the world and recognising that we DESERVE it as much as the next person. Here’s to starving the critical voice and FEEDING the one that says I’m INNATELY VALUABLE. Here’s to STANDING ALONGSIDE EACH OTHER, brothers, sisters, just finding our way through. Here’s to STARTING THIS JOURNEY. Here’s to CONTINUING THE CONVERSATION about mental health. I cried writing this. I truly believe that every word is possible. If I can spend my entire life sharing, writing and talking about this message in the hopes some of it may provide people with increased freedom and understanding of their worth, I will.

Start where you are

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At the start of Yoga this Saturday, our teacher read a script telling us to ‘start where you are’.

We are where we are. That’s all we are now. We’re not the us of yesterday or the us that we may be tomorrow.

It got me thinking about how often we delay doing things that will benefit us somehow because we tell ourselves that we need to be a in a certain physical or mental headspace first.

We may think, I can’t face the gym until I’ve lost some weight. I will start to try and think better, eat better in January. I’ll change things tomorrow.

You are worth making changes, moving, doing, starting now. Not when you are thinner, happier, more energised. Not when it’s sunnier or when the New Year clock chimes midnight.

To keep putting off making kind and positive changes is to procrastinate our way into self-sabotage where things pass us by. Things get harder and worse, and then we end up making changes out of hitting a messy rock-bottom rather than a motivation for self-care and investment.

To act is an act of self-love. And if self-love feels an alien concept, do it anyway and choose to trust that making changes will actually feed into a new cycle of worth.

How to be the perfect mum

I’ve ventured to You Tube and am doing a 3 minute series on various motherhood and mental health topics. Here’s on on how to be a ‘perfect mum’. Hint hint….it doesn’t exist.

Enjoy x

Self-care is a fine line

FullSizeRenderSelf-care isn’t as simple as taking a long bath or booking in a manicure. It’s about value, self-worth and believing you deserve treating yourself with care and respect. It’s about recognising the difference in what one day may be self-care, can be self-destructive procrastination the next. It can be a fine line.

It’s about how putting the to-do list aside one day can be an act of kindness to yourself, whereas the next day it can be an act of self-sabotage. Self-care can be working out, or it can be giving yourself a day off the gym when you actually want to go. Self-care can be a large glass of wine in the sunshine, or it can be forgoing the alcohol altogether. Self-care can be taking a day of solitude away from the world, or it might be encouraging yourself out the door to interact.

Self-care is about knowing what your needs are (this can be a challenge in itself for many), and how it is wisest to fulfil them. We need to know ourself to know the difference, and we need to love ourselves to act. The good thing is that one feeds into the other. Self-care fuels self-love. Self-love fuels self-care. You just need to take some challenging first steps to start a new cycle. A new way.

Today, I’m wearing bright, red lipstick and I’m not even dressed. Self-care for me at the moment is about not hiding from the world, not apologising for myself. It’s about daring to believe that I can use my passions and skills to encourage others to be more open about mental health, and start to engage in some new behaviours that I believe can change their world as they know it.  It’s about indulging in the simple things that make me smile and give me joy. Today, it’s a rich, red, eye catching pigment on my lips, to remind myself how far I’ve come from the days I used to hide.

Self-care cultivates self-love. The best investment you can ever make. For the love you have for yourself is the gateway of all other loves.

If you want to know any more about these topics, or want to chat them through in the light of your own experience, take a look at my therapy and coaching page here

Mum Guilt

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I’m the first to acknowledge that I’ve spent the majority of my life as a perfectionist. An insatiable demand placed over myself, by myself. A desire to be the best, with little room left for my humanness. I never believed I was enough. I could write a whole post on how I have begun to let go of perfectionism in the last few years as a parent and how freeing I’ve found it, but that’s for another day.

This post is for us Mum’s who often don’t feel good enough.

When did ‘good enough’ stop becoming good enough?

As children we welcomed a ‘tick’ on our school work. Little validations in scrawled marks telling us that we met the standard. Good enough used to be good. It used to be enough.

‘Good enough’ has been steam rolled by perfectionism and comparison. Good enough is now substandard. Pah! Who’d want to be good enough when you could be GREAT? We see snapshots of other people’s mothering, and we merge them together into one supposedly attainable ideal of what it is to be a ‘great mum’.

Perhaps it’s the increase in social media. Tiny little Instagram squares feeding this belief that others are mothering better than we are. They are coping better, parenting better. They shout less, cook more, look nicer, never argue in front of the kids, gaze at their phone less, and NEVER ever want to run away and hide in the kitchen with wine.

How come when we compare ourselves to others, we tend to come off worse?

Winnicot was a Psychoanalyst and parenting expert in the 1950’s. He studied thousands of mothers and knew the emotional, physical and mental energy required to raise these small people. He summarised that the way to be a good mother, is to be a ‘good enough’ mother.

Good – acceptable, positive, satisfactory, valuable, worthy, agreeable, admirable

Enough – abundant, ample, sufficient, suitable, acceptable, competent, decent, sufficing

Mother – source, origin, creator

Good enough takes into account our humanness, with all of our failures and our limits. Imperfection becomes positive.

It’s healthy for children to be failed in tolerable ways in the context of relationship with a loving parent. We are teaching them how to survive in an imperfect world that will fail and disappoint. Parenting is a long-haul job, it’s a daily grind. We mother through sickness, highs and lows, sleep deprivation, PMT. We need to have more grace for ourselves.

Guilt fills the void between the mother we think we should be, and the mother we are.

I should be more patient
I shouldn’t be letting my little one watch so much TV
I should be doing more,
giving more,
loving more,
I should be more.
I am not enough

The very fact that we feel this guilt says that we are probably doing a fab job. But perhaps we need to change the language we use.

‘Should’s are aggressively critical, pointing the finger, breeding guilt and stifling action. This language slowly chips away at self-acceptance and worth.

Perhaps the ‘should’s are alerting you to areas for change and tweaks. Turn it into a “hey, let’s grab a book”, an encouragement for action, rather than an an action stifling criticism.

When you offer your children consistent love as a base, no matter what the day holds, or whether sleep deprivation induced impatience leaves you snappy and highly strung (my hand is up here!), or the TV does the babysitting whilst you tear around the house tidying yesterday’s chaos…. you are good enough.

So, beautiful Mum’s. You are enough. You are so enough. It’s unbelievable how enough you are.

x

Two very different love stories

I wrote this on New Years Eve as the calendar switched to 2017. Reading it again now, as life feels far fuller of hope and enjoyment, it breaks my heart that I felt so low and desperate. I wanted to publish it incase it might be helpful for anyone – feel free to share. I want to break the taboo of ‘instant newborn love’ and encourage mothers for whom the love doesn’t flood so freely so quickly. It’s okay. You’re doing an amazing job. One foot in front of the other. This happy pic was taken on C’s first birthday. A time of joy and celebration that I made it through. 

The assumption is often that Mothers experience an instant flood of love for their newborns. An unbreakable, incomparable, maternal bond. Is this always true?  Is this a healthy assumption? Or does it just add pressure and negate the fact that it’s not always about the immediacy of falling in love with your baby, but it can be something that grows and enriches. After I’d had little O, I couldn’t have fathomed it being any other way than an overwhelming sense of adoration. But my second experience was very different.

Baby O

I caught you in my hands and swept you up through the water, hugging you into my chest. Your first cry escaped from your little, gaping, blue mouth. Your scrawny body, your folded limbs and wrinkled skin flooded with a soft pink hue as you took your first, hungry breaths. You rose and fell with the sobs that escaped my exhausted lips. I did it.

I fell into my hospital bed after cold, anaemic toast and sugary, tepid tea. Such an unappealing meal never tasted so divine. Despite being awake for 2 solid days, I ushered sleep away that night. All I wanted to do was to stare in pure wonderment at your sleeping face, bathed in the blue glow of my hospital room. I lay gazing, to the soundtrack of soft footsteps and distant digital beeps. I was high on a ferocious love in which my heart groaned with a sudden, stretching increase in capacity. It would swell every time my eyes met your face, or each time you came to mind. You’d not done a single thing, but you’d won me wholeheartedly.

I loved you immediately, hopelessly, vulnerably. And just when I didn’t believe I could possible love any more, I fell more in love as I discovered you.

Baby C

You entered the world in that very same pool, a mere 20 months later. Instead of winter darkness veiling the windows, summer sunshine danced in slivers through the slatted blinds. Your quiet birth gave way to chaos as people crowded the room, urgently attempting to remove a stubborn placenta. They were successful, and we carried you out, small and so new, a mere 5 hours later. Moments down the road, we arrived home to the welcome of family. We sipped champagne whilst your brother cooed over your blinking little face.

I didn’t devour a night alone with you or gaze upon your face in soft blue light. There were no lazy lie-ins. We didn’t spend your Daddy’s paternity leave recovering from long nights with box-set binges whilst you lay nestled between us on crumpled white sheets.

The first three weeks at home passed, fuelled by adrenaline, and a crash course in learning how to manage two young children. I had extra hands of support, before all help left, back to work and normal life. The usual toe curling, breastfeeding pain of the early days didn’t stop. And your frustration and pain became increasingly evident. Health Visitors, lactation consultants, midwives and GP’s were kind, and well meaning, but none could explain or understand the cause or effect of your constant cries. It took months to label your distress.

I wanted so desperately to love you more, to feel compelled to nuzzle your face and neck. I felt a fierce, lioness protectiveness. You were my young. On one hand I had your chatty, affectionate brother, and on the other, a baby who did little more than scream or claw at my chest. There was little reverie, only survival. I didn’t know you, and it seemed that you didn’t like me.

Your first six months sauntered by. A mixture of troubleshooting, frantic google searches, confusion and second guessing.

And then, one day, the sun broke through the clouds. A rainbow of rich and potent colour threw a prism against a grey and stubborn sky.  Change, world-changing change had been just a breath away and I didn’t know it.

Suddenly, your smiles brightened your face more freely. Your back arching screams ceased You gobbled up hungrily every morsel I put in front of you. I delighted in cooking for you, finding such joy that my efforts pleased you. You started to look at me with a look of love, as if you were finding your comfort in my presence. I started to know you, to enjoy you, to see flickers of character in your generous giggles, and the way you gazed at your brother. I began to learn that you adored your baths, that lots of kisses made you grin a big, old man, toothless grin, and you delight in being naked!

Your brother shocked me with an increased capacity for love, whereas you taught me the incredible lesson of perseverance and alerted me to a strength I never knew I possessed. My love for you has grown, as deep as it has wide. You are my labour of love. We have won each other, and found our way deep into each others hearts.

But, my darling, you were worth every single moment.
And I cant, for love nor money, stop kissing your gorgeous little face.

If you want to contact me for a telephone PND/Anxiety/Depression coaching session, please find more info here. 

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