EMDR Diaries - Chapter 2: All about the Stellybear

Hi everyone hope you're all doing OK despite the craziness that 2020 continues to bring us 😐.

As you know from my blog post earlier this year EMDR Diaries - Chapter 1 I've started EMDR treatment to try and help with the bad memories and emotions that contribute to my BPD. Because of the lockdown these sessions have switched to Zoom sessions at home and rather than the pretty flashing lights the treatment itself is me tapping my legs (sounds weird in writing and probably sounds even weirder to my parents and the dog coming from my room!). I've finished the first 'memory' of the treatment which was the circumstances that lead to me leaving my job with the community NHS team. As a result I feel a lot less bitterness about the experience but also have learnt that I shouldn't put the blame solely on myself and that I should have been better supported around workloads, my mental illness etc.

The next subject I'm moving onto is one of the ones that I've been dreading the most. The loss of my beautiful bunny Estelle (aka Stelly, Stellington, Stellybear) back in 2017. Of all my life experiences this is probably the worst thing that has happened to me, I'd take the years of bullying at school and work multiple times over rather than the loss of Stelly.

The girls as babies 

Stelly looking a little 'Special needs' 

I'm going to put a ****TRIGGER WARNING*** here for anyone easily upset by animal unhappiness (I can read all sorts of things about war, COVID-19, generally depressing human subjects but give me the smallest hint of something bad happening to an animal and I'm done 😭).

It all started at the end of April 2017 when I'd picked Stelly up to put her back in the hutch after she and Esme had spent the afternoon in their grass run. To this day I don't know if I lost grip on her or she jumped but suddenly she hit the edge of the hutch, shot down the ramp and let out two screeches that put a scar on my heart and lead me to bursting into immediate tears. 

To cut a long story short she'd hit her 'lady parts' so hard she caused permanent nerve damage that left her unable to walk as well and utterly incontinent. If you picked her up she would just pee, each morning I would clean her up as best I could, give her Metacam to try and solve any pain she might have had. 

Up until that awful day we were at the vets every few weeks, trying to find ways to help her, giving her a bunzillian to try in vain to keep her clean (Esme now has the pleasure of these as she's become a little incontinent with age) 

She is delighted that I shared this with you all. 

But Stelly still seemed happy, she kept her appetite (her greatest pleasure in life was eating) and would join Esme on the grass until Esme's zooming and occasional barrel into her got too much. 

Then on the afternoon of 21st June 2017 things changed. I got home from having a swim after work and could tell something wasn't right. She didn't seem to be moving as well and had soiled herself quite badly. Dad and I cleaned her up and put her back in the hutch and she munched away on the grass I'd pulled up for her with her normal gusto. I wish I'd had a better look, I wish I'd not stopped that extra hour for a post work swim, I wish I'd insisted we called the vet to have her checked over. Instead I covered them up and gave them their dinner and went to bed myself. 

The next morning I came down ready to get Stelly up and washed before giving them their breakfast and cleaning the hutch as best I could to meet Esme's OCD standards. When I saw Stelly laying in the run I could see something wasn't right. When I picked her up I could tell what was wrong immediately. She had the dreaded flystrike (I'm not going to describe it here as the memory makes me sick, you can Google it but I really wouldn't). I knew then that it was all over, that I'd failed my poor bunny. I was on hold trying to get through to the emergency vet but they never answered. All I could do was wait to get hold of our normal vets when they opened at 9am. They told us to come straight in. Around 9.30am on the 22nd June 2017 Stelly passed away and went to join Kay at the Rainbow 🌈 Bridge. 

The only benefit of her nerve damage was that Stelly wouldn't have been able to feel anything that was going on, which is a small blessing. 

The legacy of that day is my utter guilt over what happened to Stelly, the sick feeling from that morning. I'm constantly paranoid about Esme's health, convinced that at every vet visit for jabs or bunzillians (sorry again Esme) they'll find something wrong with her or think that I'm not taking good enough care of her. I'm dreading tomorrow as I have to take her for a check over and potential blood test to check her liver function (it's so that they can continue to prescribe her painkiller that helps keep her moving and hopping around her domain) and I'm terrified they'll find something underlying wrong with her that I haven't noticed despite my scrutinising her several times a day (she loves me....) 

I'm so scared about facing the emotions of that time, the feelings that still keep me up at night and worrying about Esme. I think this one will take a lot more work to get through. 

I'm going to leave you with my favourite photo of the girls together that sits in front of my TV as a constant reminder that bunnies don't approve of me...... 

Love Jen

XxxX

The Elephant 🐘 Is Back In The Room

I really shouldn't be surprised, it was an inevitably, my weight I lost has mostly piled back on. 

As you can see I now look like the 'before' in the before/after transformation photo. The photo on the left was taken in March last year and the recent photo on the right was taken last week on my birthday.

If I'm honest I'm not surprised. I've lost weight before and piled it back on. I'd just hoped that this time I'dve sustained it better. At the start of last year I was in a pretty good place, I'd lost about 27 kilos (about 4 stone I think), was eating well and walking a lot but it just all slipped away. Whilst I pointed out in a blog at the time I didn't feel mentally any better for being thinner I didn't feel as disgusted with myself on a day to day basis as I do now.

A lot of the problem is of course comfort eating, and this has ramped right up with the lockdown taking away everything that I'm looking forward to (No concerts, all my airshows are cancelled, the Lammas festival that I was excited to be a part of is also cancelled). Now the only thing I might have to look forward to is the chocolate squirreled away. Even as I eat it I feel ashamed at my lack of willpower.

Part of me says "well you did try and top yourself only a few months ago, cut yourself some slack", another part (my inner addict I would assume) "it's fine, you can stop whenever you want" and the largest (no pun intended) part rails against my lack of willpower shouting at me as I try to get to sleep at night about how weak I am and gross I look.

And my default feeling about myself is disgust at how far I've slipped back. I feel sick looking down at myself, the rolls that have reappeared, the jeans that are getting tighter and tighter. There is also a weary lack of surprise, a part of me that knew even when I'd lost all those kilos that it was only temporary, that I was only a bag of Twirl Bites away from falling off the wagon. And I was right.

There are so many popular sayings about body imagine and diet "nothing looks as good as skinny feels", "only you can control what goes in your mouth" (I wish more people could control what comes out of their mouths!) etc etc but shocker they don't help. I already feel ashamed enough of how I look and for letting the people who were so proud of my weight loss down. Meeting back up with friends who I haven't seen for a good few months is embarrassing because of how much I've ballooned, I am the proverbial elephant in the room.

It's easy to declare that I don't care about how I look, true in a way with my lack of effort with hair and makeup nowadays, or to use my fat as a shield to fade into the background. No-one is going to notice the fat goth next to all the pretty, interesting people!

I'd love for this blog to end on a declaration of intent to change up my life, ditch the chocolate, run 5k every day but we all know that it's bullshit.

Love in fattiness Jen

XxxX

#MeAt20 Challenge

You might have seen on my Instagram (@jenraefrances )  the other day that I decided to take part in the #MeAt20 challenge that was doing the social media rounds and I thought why not have a chuckle and post some more photos on here?

At this point I have to hold my hands up and admit that this is partly (ok you got me .... mostly) an excercise in vanity, I can re-visit the time that I was a size 8-10, before Anti-Depressants and life in general lead to me ballooning up to a size 20. Whilst I was in no means 'well' during this time at least I still looked good 😆 so to keep the blog lighthearted let's dive in .....

Still rocking my red locks before I finally took the plunge and went black!

By 2007 I'd finally mastered eyeliner!

My friend Lydia and me hanging in my room (please take special notice of the Emily Strange (Is still a thing? I used to have the best bag with her on it), My Chemical Romace and Panic! At The Disco posters!)

My brother and me off to see My Chemical Romance, one of us is more excited than the other ........ (BTW please check out his Instagram @chrisfr as he's an amazing photographer!

Enjoying a cocktail obvs

With my friend Gemma, I still have lipstick this colour ......

I think this hat cost me about £3 in the Primark men's sale but I wore it to death

In 'fancy dress' aka the full goth look that I didn't have the guts to wear on a regular night out. Please also note that I have accidentally accessorised my wrist band with my tights 😂

Off bowling for my 20th birthday (No I have no idea why I'm wearing sunglasses indoors)

At the bar with Hilary, nothing really changes ..

At my favourite pub The Gilderidge (affectionately known as 'The Gilly'), it was the only pub in town with decent music on the jukebox (ask your parents kids) and as you can see served very strange coloured drinks. It's now a Next, sad times 😌

I still haven't grown out of a good face pull when the camera is pointed my way!

Here are a few from Reading Festival 2007. It was the second time we'd been (the first was in 2005 at the end of college) and the weather was shockingly good! Over the weekend I saw Panic! At The Disco, The Gossip, Razorlight, Ash, Eagles Of Death Metal and somehow managed to sleep through Funeral For A Friend but I may never get over my disappointment of how god awful the Red Hot Chilli Peppers were. I still struggle to listen to them now. 

On the way to the festival, in defence of my braids I knew at the time they'd look stupid but they were the most practical option when hair washing wasn't going to happen for a few days ... yuck!

Left with the luggage

Meeting the local wildlife, the festival site is actually next to one of the UK's largest swan sanctuary's so naturally there are no swans whatsoever in this photo!

I also want to give a shout out to this dress. It was my favourite non-black item of clothing and I wore it until I could no longer squeeze into it. I like to think that someone picked it up in the charity shop and is still having as much fun in it as I used to.

 

Possibly the last time I did anything vaguely resembling sport (still managed to wear a skull print top though)

Pink Skulls are still my idea of girly dressing

If you want to wear black then might I suggest adding a brightly coloured cocktail to liven things up.

Summer goth style

Pub time! I really loved doing the red and black eyeshadow, I still have the colours for it, when this lockdown is finally over I might have to re-create this.

Off to see Alice Cooper

Lydia, Hilary and me, I used to love curling my hair. 

Off to see Metallica with Gemma and my brother

More colourful drinks with my friend Alli

I think this snap is the perfect way to end as it was taken at 30 Seconds To Mars' Hammersmith Apollo gig, who knew they'd still be my favourite band now? 😱 

I know a lot of people posting to the #MeAt20 thread have been finding their past fashion choices cringy but to be honest I loved how I dressed then and if I could still get into those same clothes they would still be adorning me today. For a while I did go in a more vintage/rockabilly direction with my dressing but it never felt quite 'me' in the same way goth/emo/punk (however you want to label it) dressing does. I also find that 'alternative' dressing is often tied tightly in with the Rock/Indie (whatever you want to call it) music scene and I do love a band shirt (thankfully they do those in fatty size!). Even when I'm just out walking the dog I'm normally in a band hoodie of some kind.

Hopefully you guys enjoyed having a look back along memory lane with me, I'd love to see some of your old photos too ( find me on Twitter @jenraefrances ).

Love Jen
XxxX

When will we finally learn to #BeKind?

I don't know about anyone else at the moment who's also struggling with mental illness during the lockdown but from what I've seen on social media there seems to be a real backlash from the Great British Public towards conversations around people's mental struggles at the moment. The recent #BeKind trend on social media seems to have gone out of the window to be replaced with something much nastier.

The worst recepient of this kind of abuse I've seen in the last couple of days is the singer Sam Smith, a long time advocate for mental health and who has spoken about their  (they have asked for gender neutral pronouns to be used) own mental illness, who broke down during an Instagram post due to the effect the lockdown is having on their mental health. Below I've screen shot a straw poll of responses I've seen on Twitter (I've neglected to include those that were just looking for an excuse to hurl homophobic and transphobic abuse at them). 

Thankfully there were some who defended them.

From the responses above there seem to be two themes to people's criticism. Firstly that because they are successful and rich they should somehow be immune to mental illness. Now I'm not a scientist or biologist and really not all that intelligent but I do know that the symptoms of mental illness come from the brain's transmitting pathways becoming interrupted in some cases or certain chemicals becoming unbalanced in others. In fact there are some fascinating scans that show how brain builds can slightly differ between different conditions as detailed in the photo below.

This of course points to the symptoms being of a physical origin and unfortunately I'm pretty sure that however many millions someone may or may not have in the bank they can't be used to re-wire something that's already broken. Just because a broken brain isn't seen it doesn't make it any less valid than having say a broken leg. I would be interested to see if a famous face was to complain about a physical ailment if they would be subjected to the same abuse?.

The second theme I picked up was the comparison between the efforts of the fantastic Captain Moore a 99 year old army veteren who has raised over £14 million (last time I checked) for the NHS by doing laps of his garden, and Sam Smith's tearful reaction on their video. I have to be careful here as I in no way want to cast any disrespect upon Captain Moore, a genuine hero and gentlemen who frankly deserves a knighthood, but I find it quite distasteful that his achievements are being used to attack another human being's response to this situation and being the pleasent man he seems to be I imagine he would feel the same. 

Whilst I'm not going to get into the use of the 'snowflake' term which winds me up so much (perhaps that means I am one? Well I've been called far worse let's be honest! ) the mocking of Sam's tears and underlying suggestion that they are somehow weak in their reaction is typical of the stigma still associated with mental illness. 

This is the very bedrock that the stigma charities and experts have been fighting for years to break down, is built on. The shaming of those of us who struggle to cope because our brains don't work in the same way a large portion of the population's do. There are some really great strides being made by charities such as Rethink, Mind and Time To Change

And of course the Duke & Duchess of Cambridge's Every Mind Matters initiative. Unfortunately the torch and pitchforks on Twitter show that we have a long way still to go. 

Be kind everyone. 

Love Jen

XxxX

Isolation - A Stand Alone Novella

As a lot of writers do when they have a block on a story they go off and work on another story altogether (or so I've been told). So instead of getting the hotly anticipated follow-up to EMDR Chapter 1 we instead go to the Lockdown Diaries.

Here in the UK we went into full lockdown last Monday evening (pretty much a week save a few hours). Meaning that we can only go out of the house to A) work (if we're part of a vital service - HUGE  thanks to the amazing NHS, Retail and public transport workers keeping everything going and the public looked after) B) to shop (although we have to keep a distance of 2 meters apart at all times - my crowd hating person finds this absolute heaven) and C) to excercise such as walking Eos (and photographing her under pretty blossom trees). 

Apparently this lockdown is for a minimum of 3 weeks but is likely to go on far longer. And *spoiler* isolation sucks. Now to be fair I don't go out every day as it is, I'm often to low or anxious to leave the house except to go to my counselling/OT appointments or to see Helen. Because of the lockdown none of these things are happening now.

Not being able to see Helen is probably the hardest thing. She works at the same hospital I did until last summer when everything went tits up. So she's having to take the isolation incredibly seriously as she works on one of the wards. We've been friends for 10 years this summer (poor her!) and this is the longest we've been without physically seeing each other in that time. Thankfully we can still talk due to the wonders of WhatsApp and can parrall watch stuff on our laptops (Baby Yoda here we come). 

But not seeing your best friend when you live in the same town is horrible. I wasn't able to help her move on Wednesday, or help with the shopping at the weekend. A big source of support has been ripped away. Lots of people are getting really creative with online meet ups and quizzes etc but it just makes me feel even more alone.

Another support that has vanished are my counselling and OT sessions that I have every couple of weeks. My counselling particularly is a big hit. It's the only space I have to get the craziness in my head off of my chest, the only place I can really talk without freaking people out. The thoughts in my head have been getting worse and worse, most of my waking hours are spent counting the minutes until its time to go back to sleep wishing I had the courage to open my pill cabinet or deciding what pretty pattern to carve next. 

At times like this I rely on having things to look forward to that I can try and focus on but it's all getting cancelled due to this stupid pandemic. No airshows, no gigs, no anything for me. And being told that everyone is in the same boat really doesn't help, it just reinforces that I'm obviously too mentally weak to cope with something sensible people can. I've given up weighing myself now since my only joy in life is now chocolate, so bye bye to the weight loss I achieved and how proud everyone was of me. Once a fat loser (or gainer in this case) always a fat loser (gainer). 

I'm at breaking point and we're only a week in.

Love Jen

XxxX

EMDR Diaries - Chapter 1

For those of you who have the, er, pleasure (?) to follow me on social media (Twitter jenraefrances and Instagram jenraefrances very original I know!) you'll have see than I've started a treatment called EMDR (Click here  for more info about EMDR, if that's a bit wordy then a YouTube link is coming up!). 

The aim of EMDR is to help the brain re-process traumatic memories which will, in theory, 
 help stop my extreme reactions to certain stimuli and triggers. My Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) has been worsening since the summer which lead to me attemping suicide back in August (See my blog Cold Hard Facts - ***Trigger warning***). Whilst my bad memories will always be there, this treatment won't magically erase them but it will allow my brain to process the bullying, assault, loss etc correctly and hopefully lessen their impact.

I found a really useful YouTube video that explains it in a less Sci-Fi way. 

This video shows how an EDMR session works -

Before I started the treatment I was warned by my counsellor that the treatment can be tough as I'll be connecting with a lot of memories and emotions that my brain has repressed. I've been warned that I'll feel very unsettled for a number of days after each session There was also the likelihood that I'll have physical symptoms like tingling and twitches as my brain works to re-wire itself. To try and counter-act this my counsellor and I have been working on 'safe places' in my mind that I can access after the sessions to calm me such as airshows and happy memories. I have a long list of bad things to tackle, the usual suspects - bullying, loss etc so this will be a long slog. 

To start me off as gently as possible my counsellor, Helaine, has decided to start with the 'Memory Stick incident' from back in 2014. When you read any of my blogs from the summer of 2014, prior to being signed off in the Autumn, you'll be able to see the state I was left in (my blog Stuck from the time gives an idea, just bear in mind that at the time I was still working on the theory that I had Bi Polar rather than BPD). Now that I'm long gone from that job I can explain more about what went on and what the EMDR will be tackling. 

To cut a long story short whilst working for a local NHS Team I posted a memory stick to a nursing home containing patient information and it was lost in the post. This kicked off a massive incident as of course patient privacy was compromised (something that I never argued against and went out of my way to own up to), during the course of this it was decided to review my recent work and it was found that I had sent an information pack to an incorrect address (I still maintain that I was given the wrong details but that's neither here nor there). After that all of my work was scrutinised and management were constantly digging for mistakes I'd made. When I tried to stand up for myself I was told that I was "playing the mental health card" to avoid getting into trouble. The whole situation lead to my health spiralling out of control, loads of self-harming and my being signed off of work and eventually leaving. 

As we started the session Helaine asked me to bring this time to mind. I then had to watch the light bar that you saw in the video above for a few moments at a time (initially I made the mistake of trying to concentrate too hard on it and not follow the light bar but it turns out that once you've brought the memory to the front of your mind it stays there even when you're concentrating on the bar). The effect was immediate, I started having random tinglings and small pressures across my chest and throat (these are the spots where I normally 'feel stress', some people get knotted stomachs or breathlessness when they're stressed whereas mine sticks 'higher') and twinges in my shoulders.  

After the initial effects of the tinglings and pressures I actually stopped feeling anything for a little while until I suddenly got really tearful when I was struck by how much I'd loved my previous job working in the records library from 2010-2011 (you can read my memories of the time here). One of the things with the EMDR is that sudden insights will appear either during the session or in the days following about the memory you've been working on. Whilst I won't share the 'insights' I gained about my job I lost the memory stick with as they aren't pretty, I did realise that I was an easy target as I'm crap at standing up for myself or pointing out that I was the sole admin dealing with over 2000 cases, I did gain some interesting insights about my 'happy time' in the library; I realised that work was actually my 'safe space' and helped me cope with crap life threw at me at the time (my Grandad passing away, the breakdown of my 6 year relationship among other things) and still carry on smiling. I realised that I was 'mourning' that time so to speak, not just the job itself or that it was a good time in my life for travelling and having fun. But mourning the loss of that safety, positivity and most importantly the friends I left behind when I moved on, colleagues who made me feel welcome from day one and included me and, most importantly, were only ever nice to me. The ironic thing is that the only reason I left was because my hours had been cut to 3 days a week ....

The session ended with 'grounding' me again, accessing my 'happy/safe' space and putting me back into a calm mindset.

In the days following an EMDR session you can be left quite unsettled both mentally and physically (in some cases apparently you can be left twitchy or tingly for a couple of days). Physically I was fine, aside from some shoulder tension, but I've had a lot of work-related bad dreams or general anxiety dreams. The dreams have mostly been around a different job I had prior to the library when I was bullied (another reason I loved the library so much, no-one screamed across the room or down the phone at me!), having to start working there again and seeing the managers who made my life hell. I've also been quite low and tearful feeling as well as a slight stressed feeling bubbling away in the background. 

My next session will be a week Tuesday and we'll continue to work on this memory until my brain has processed it properly and it no longer brings up the emotional response anymore. After that we'll move onto other subjects which I admit to being quite nervous about, if I cried whilst working through this 'not too bad' memory lord knows how I'll be when focusing on losing Stelly or school. I want to try and keep up a blog of my EMDR experiences on the off chance that someone who's curious about the treatment or, like me, is trying it out for the first time will stumble across it in the depths of the interwebs and might find it helpful.

If the EMDR helps even just a bit then it'll be worth it, if I can have just a bit of breathing space then I can start piecing things back together a bit. It's not a cure and it won't remove my BPD, OCD and self-harming tendencies but what it can do is help unblock my brain to give me a better chance at reigning them in a bit.

Love Jen
XxxX

Cold, Hard Facts pt 2

*TRIGGER WARNING FOR SUICIDE AND SELF-HARM*

We're only just into 2020 and already it's gone tits up (and if we're going by my pair it's a very big tits up, not that I like to boast). My mental wellbeing, well the little that I had, has all but gone.

Today I told my counsellor that I was about 8.5/10 on the score of 0 having no plans and 10 being in the process of making an attempt on my life. Plans and notes had been updated. I'm at the stage where my disgust for myself, the way my brain works, the weight I've put back on, my inability to function like a normal human being and the enjoyment from any activities I used to enjoy being non-existent. The only relief I get at the moment from the noise in my head is the moments when I cut myself and the short spike of pain bursts through. Normally sleep is my refuge but when I do manage to get off to sleep it's just nightmares and people in dreams telling me to hurry up and top myself. 

My counsellor quite rightly spoke to Mum and let her know everything. I feel horrible for all the pain my mental health is causing the people I love. Having been on the other side when my friend Nat was suicidal I know exactly how it is. I have my 'urgent' psychiatrist appointment on Thursday (I took my overdose on 20th Aug last year, make of that what you will). I'm hoping that unlike the last psychiatrist I saw I'll get more out of the appointment than "here's your diagnosis, here are your Meds now off you skip to take them like a good little mental" *pat on the head*.

Quite honestly I can't see how I can get out of this cycle. How much change can an appointment make? I'm bound to be brushed off again, as I always am. 

Love Jen

XxxX