Christmas Eve 2016

And man, at war with man, hears not the love-song which they bring;

O hush the noise, ye men of strife, and hear the angels sing!

As I go about my usual Christmas Eve traditions-- last minute errands including card delivering and last spots of shopping (lemons, seeded cobs, CheeseTreeslets)-- I keep a look out for Christmas trees in windows, lights on garden trees, nativity scenes in windows. I always feel a sense of expectancy, magic, excitement; although the year's been hard and tomorrow will be no different, this day at least stays a constant for me.
In the afternoon I traipse down to the bus stop like every year at about 2pm, I know exactly how the rest of the day looks. Though not to the minute I know to expect these things: I will catch the bus into Nottingham city centre; I will go to Starbucks, buy a drink, watch the people passing and perhaps reflect on the year (I usually do this with a friend but this year she is spending Christmas in a different city); at 15:30 I will finish up and walk down the hill in town to St Peter's Church and go to the 16:00 Carol service by candlelight, then about 17:30 catch the bus back out of town and home; I will then wrap any last items I bought between the bus and Starbucks, eat dinner and 23:30 back out to midnight mass at my own church in Bramcote. Tomorrow I then expect another sequence of events; I will wake up, open my stocking, breakfast-- after this we would usually go to church again Christmas morning but since losing Josh it's been too painful and also impractical with our ageing (and stubborn) grandma-- AO's (adult offspring-- the term coined by our parents for my siblings and I since the eldest complaining "we're not kids!!", in spite of us still being their kids) will open our main presents with grandma probably eating a few mince pies and a cup of tea; then lunch; mum watches queen's Christmas address; sister's fiance arrives and we play some Christmas games and talk about the day; drive grandma home when sister & fiance leave ~4-5pm; Christmas TV evening. Boxing day, again filled with food, TV and relaxing.
But as I sat in the carol service this year, just 3 hours ago, as we sang It Came Upon a Midnight Clear, I was once again reminded of and touched by the desperate plight of many tonight throughout our world- our world- as they have no plans, facing nothing but uncertainty and fear. These people could right now be running for shelter, that of collapsed buildings where the bullets might not reach. Hopefully all the armed presence has moved from that area by now else they may also be subject to more attacks; bombs, grenades, capture and even execution for not living their captor's cause. If you're still reading, thank you, so many of us want to turn off from the crisis in Aleppo, the boarder-war being faced by those who have managed to flee the city, and the further foreign laws of those so well-traveled and exhausted only to be told there is no room at the inn. This time last year we were, as a country, in the throws of arguments and petitions between the ivory-towered politicians who voted for the air-strikes on Syria. This time we face a similar problem which no one is addressing; the lock down of the war's capital, Aleppo.
I'm sure everyone remembers Aylan Kurdish, a small boy found washed up, drowned, by a stranger, a boy who sparked our countries particular interest in this war, many petitions signed to pledge a room for a Syrian refugee child, or to oppose air strikes or any military action, or to open our boarders to an evacuee scheme. Where are those children now, or their parents? Because there aren't any in Beeston. There aren't any in the East Midlands I'm sure because as a nation (Britain) we love to toot our own trumpets; we would be boasting about our generosity and the massive part we're playing by graciously letting in these children- who else wise face a death sentence. But where are the articles? Where are the TV specials about our vital role with evacuees? And yes I shall refer to them as evacuees, because whilst they are refugees, taking  refuge, they actually have no refuge right now. Boarders are closing, boarders are closed and these evacuated people have no where to go. Have we a plague, spreading throughout the European countries? Yes I think so. Intolerance, ignorance.
No, not you nor I can save the world, we are not the saviors, we're the search party. There are things we can do, though, even from the comfort of our secure, safe homes even at Christmas time. The first step is talking about it. I don't intend for you to crowd your Christmas day with talk of refugees, evacuees and dying strangers in a far off land, but I would ask when you next see a picture of a still, grey child, you consider how they have ended up there; if we allowed more in, we could have had more out which would mean less trapped in Aleppo now. Truthfully, we don't know what's happening in there at the moment; who's in control; is there a counter-attack currently; how many sides are fighting in there; how many civilians are still in there; how many civilians have lost their lives in the last few days or weeks? We just don't know.
But alongside talking about it, there are many organisations you can donate to if you feel you could, or would like to or even have the money (I understand the monetary issue with donating, especially at Christmas time having shelled out on decorations and gifts and food and Christmas parties, but if you do feel able to give I will list some charities below). Others of you, who either wish not to give money, or cannot, I would urge to look around the internet on petition.parliament.uk at various petitions currently in circulation and if you see one you agree with, sign it! Some of you may not even need to scour the internet yourself, as social media is very quick to spread the message of petitions set up. The main thing I would advise here is to make sure it's petition.parliament.uk not change.org or another petition based website as they may not be directly (or at all) relayed to the government, and may not have a legally obligated response (petition.parliament.uk give a response at 10,000 signatures, and debated in house of commons at 100,000 signatures). A last, very simple step you could take right now, reading this, is to share this post with your friends, or perhaps when you find a petition you agree with, share that. But in the certainty of your plans this holiday, remember those who are out of place, out of plans and possibly, out of time.
Another cause I feel a need to relay at this time of year as often as any, is mental illness and suicide awareness around the holidays. There are plenty of people in this country who are trapped in the battlefield of their own minds, or battles of an abusive relationship. I know these plights, and I will, again, share appropriate numbers for you or a loved one, or even someone who happens across this post and needs someone to talk to. As full of family and love this holiday can bring, it just as easily can bring feelings of isolation, low mood and contribute to a worse mental well-being and thoughts and feelings of harming yourself or suicide. If someone seems irritable with you, whether they're stressed, or just seem to be quieter than normal, ask them how they are, and be prepared to listen.
Merry Christmas, be kind to each other, goodnight.

Syria - Children's Aid

Syria Relief: https://www.syriarelief.org.uk/
Syria Relief is a UK based charity that provides medical and educational aid and has touched the lives of 1.8 million (1,800,000) Syrians in need. You can also chose which area you would like your donation to go towards.

Save the Children: www.savethechildren.org.uk
Save the Children believes every child deserves a future. In the UK and around the world, we give children a healthy start to life, the opportunity to learn and protection from harm. Again you can choose a crisis to donate to.

Other organisations such as your local shelter agency are brilliant causes, for those who have sought refuge in your area either from another country's war-torn plains or the fear or violence of a relationship.

Domestic Violence - Relationships

The National Domestic Violence Helpline: http://www.nationaldomesticviolencehelpline.org.uk/
The freephone 24 hour National Domestic Violence Helpline, run inpartnership between Women's Aid and Refuge, is a national service for women experiencing domestic violence, their family, friends, colleagues and others ringing on their behalf.

Men's Advice Line: https://www.mensadviceline.org.uk/
Help and support for male victims of domestic violence. Men's Advice Line: confidential helpline for men experiencing domestic violence from a partner or ex-partner (or from other family members).

Mental Illness - Grief

The Samaritan's: http://www.samaritans.org/  | 116 123 (free from any phone, mobile or landline in the UK)
Talk to us any time you like, in your own way, and off thew record-- about whatever's getting to you. You don't have to be suicidal.

Childline: https://www.childline.org.uk/   | 0800 1111 (from any phone, mobile or landline in the UK)
Get info and advice about a wide range of issues, talk to a counsellor online, send Childline an email or post on the message boards.

The Compassionate Friends: https://www.tcf.org.uk/   | 0345 123 2304 (10:00-16:00 and 19:00-22:00 every day of the year, from any phone, mobile or landline in the UK)
Support for any bereaved parents or sibling. Phones are always answered by a parent who has lost a child. 

Cruise Bereavement Care: http://www.cruse.org.uk/ 
Cruise is the leading national charity for bereaved people in England, Wales and Northern Ireland. We offer support, advice and information to children, young people and adults when someone dies, and work to enhance society's care of bereaved people.

Christmas 2016 Blood Donation

Christmas 2016, laying down, hooked up to a machine that keeps beeping, needle in my arm, nurse buzzing in regularly—with a smile on my face. I’m not ill. I’m so well, in fact that I’m sat here quite peacefully, helping the medics of our country to save lives. Blood donation isn’t selfless (does altruism even exist?), blood donation is satisfying, and for the girl lying next to me it seemed quite esteem boosting as she eagerly told me it was her 28^th donation! I’m not saying that you should give blood to make yourself feel better; you probably don’t feel guilty NOT donating, so you wouldn’t be making yourself feel better by donating. Well I know why I do—if that first sentence didn’t end with a smile and I was waiting for a blood transfusion, or platelets that never came, would I make it to Christmas? I’m also not going to throw an advert at you with a dying teenage lad and ask if you’d expect a liver, or a pint of blood if you were him. But poorly people always need blood. Christmas, summer, your birthday; every day 6,000 blood donations save lives. And you can look at that figure and say “well plenty of people give blood, if there aren’t mad statistics on the lunchtime news about a lack of donors why do I need to start donating?” Well think about how many people die each year, some of them donors, some in need of donation. Our population is on a nice ‘rinse and repeat’ cycle. One in, one out so-to-speak.

200,000 new blood donors are needed every year to fill the perpetually revolving places of ex-donors, whether they have died, become unwell themselves, or are no longer allowed to donate. You could wait until you’re a little older, but what if you became unwell yourself in a few years and were no longer able to give blood?

*Other forms of blood donation like platelet donation can be more beneficial and donated more often. The process is just as safe as, if not more than, whole blood donation, for more info look at the last paragraph (it's asterisked because it's boring if you don't care).

I wondered what it must be like at the donor centre for the nurses and phlebotomists, working with non-patients; you train at uni or med school, have placements in hospitals and GP surgeries and then land yourself a job working at the opposite end of medicine; working with healthy people, helping you help others to treat patients back in those hospitals. I suppose it would be like a teacher running training on an inset day; how do you teach a teacher? How do you ‘treat’ a non-patient who isn't ill?

Lastly I wanted to say that I’m not going to cut ties in our friendship if you don’t give blood; it is up to you! It’s not for everyone; my grandad tried to donate, he gave one pint then passed out. My sister came with me to my appointment today, but she’s scared of needles, and whilst she did incredibly well asking questions about the size of the needle and if you’re hooked up to a bag or machine, she’s a far way off wanting to try donating herself. Two of my very close friends have both wanted to give blood for a long time, but they both are unable to donate due to frequent trips out of the country. However, if you’re not scared of needles, don’t have a medical history that prevents you from donating and haven't been out of the country in the last 3-6 months (regional differences), I would ask you at least to look into the donating process and see if it might be something you could do or simply just raise awareness for others to have a look or take some interest in. If you do want to go but are nervous I will happily accompany you (unless you're reading this from another country, sorry!), or talk about donation if you had any questions you'd like to ask a real human rather than an FAQ on the donor website (another great place to find out more).

Merry Christmas—give a gift that keeps on giving.

*Not only is blood always needed, but platelets (small cell fragments found in blood, very important in blood clotting) are also needed. If you donate whole blood-- hooked up to a bag like I was today-- you can only donate every 4 months if you're female or 3 months if you're male, this process, start to finish including health check before and snack afterwards, takes about an hour. However, if you donate platelets (which takes 90 minutes - 2 hours) you can donate much more often as the body doesn't have to work anyway near as hard to replace what was taken, you can donate every 14 days. In addition, each donation collects enough platelets for 2-3 adult transfusions or up to 12 children's transfusions, compared with 1 pint three times a year with whole blood. This means if you donate every 14 days for a year you will be helping anywhere between 42-252 people. Platelet donation isn't taking a pint of blood; you have a needle in your arm just like with blood donation, but blood is taken from you, 50ml at a time, run through a machine which separates the platelets out, then given back to you without the platelets which are put into a bag (they look gross). Platelets are important for people with cancer, specifically blood and bone cancers like a leukemia or Hodgkin's Lymphoma. Also children with blood disorders, a condition called ITP (Immune Thrombocytopenia), infections during bone marrow transplants, or a condition called purpura which my brother actually had, which eats through platelets like no one's business and causes bleeds under the skin looking like monstrous bruises. I actually went today with the intention of in a few weeks' time giving platelets, but currently the B&T team are only recruiting for blood group A+ and A- donors; I am O+ so they don't want my mushy yellow clotting blobs at the moment. In the meantime, you could go along to a donor centre near you and see if you're eligible to give platelets, or blood!

World Mental Health Day 2016

As I sit typing this blog post, late in the evening of World Mental Health Day I realise I've left it a bit late in the day to be putting out new material, and I have been wanting to write and post something all day, but I've not known which path to take. I've decided I'll talk from my own perspective, and having struggled with my mental health since my early teens, I thought I would share my observations of people's attitudes towards mental health, and more specifically, mental illness.

Firstly I would like to point out that I've just come out of a psychiatric hospital, where I spent 12 weeks coming down from a manic episode, then up from a lower mood. During my time in hospital I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder, a mood disorder characterised by extreme mood swings from very low (depression) to very high (mania). During my time in hospital I met a lot of people, some great, some not so great. I also had an 'influx of caring' as I'll refer to it. This brings me to my main observation: Britain loves a crisis. By this I don't mean that we like when hurricanes hit, or when towns flood or the world goes to war. I mean we're very much and 'out-of-sight out-of-mind' society. We even have emojis for 'hear no evil, see no evil, do no evil'. If that's not a text world built on aversion I don't know what is. The 'influx of caring' I'm talking about is people sending me cards, or visiting me or doing their absolute best at caring by 'reacting' to a facebook update with a sad face (this is another thing I will come to soon). The Influx of Caring is when everyone rallies round to visit someone in hospital, people I haven't seen for a while, or who wouldn't have offered to meet up with me if I was out of hospital and perfectly healthy, or even sat at home in an episode of depression. Just because someone's not in hospital doesn't mean they're not ill. But here in England-- generally developed society-- we like to ignore issues until they're pushed in our faces; we don't care about a specific issue until it is directly affecting our lives-- or our news feeds (again, yet to come). I had people offering to come and visit, supportive cards and letters sent to me, several messages on facebook from people I don't often talk to or haven't seen in years, everyone sorry to hear I'm unwell and hope I'm on the mend soon. But now that I'm out of hospital? I've had one card 'glad to hear you're out of hosptial'. Even though it is more convenient for my friends to come to my home or to meet me in town than it is to have got to my unit all the way in mansfield, I've had only my best friend meet up with me. On my week on leave from hospital I had a lot booked- people wanted to see me, wanted my help with things, to take me out, loads of offers. Since the day I've been discharged though, I've been very couch-potato. The only consistent time I leave the house is Wednesday evenings to go swimming with my dad. I know that when someone is in crisis it's easy to see and to offer support, but when I was in hospital I had 24 hour care, people to talk to if I needed, never alone if I didn't want to be, I was looked after-- I didn't need people to visit to do whatever they thought they were doing. Don't get me wrong, I am SO grateful for all of my visitors, friends, family, family-friends! It did boost morale and helped motivate me to get out of hospital. But my point is- I had professional help and care. Now that I am at home though, no one calls. No one sends cards, or offers to visit. I'm currently coming to terms with a diagnosis which in one way is a relief because there is finally a name to a face and once you know what the problem is, then you can start fixing it. But right now is when most of my rehabilitation happens; going back into the community, doing things, seeing people, getting meaning back to my life once again. Among all this 'finding the new normal' and adjusting my lifestyle to prevent triggers and relapse, I've also got to be thinking about what I learned from my time in hospital, how I can prevent further episodes, and trying to identify early warning signs. These things would all be a lot easier with the support of friends and family. Whilst I have the unlimited support of my mum, dad, brother and sister, I'm failing to have much support from those who were offering the world and his wife when I was in hospital. I didn't know mania was coming, so I wasn't monitoring 'symptoms' or early warning signs, so I don't know what they are. Once the mania set in and I was at crisis point, I was so out of it that I don't remember the signs of an impending crisis. These are things I'm coming to terms with and trying to remember and record, and learn from to help myself stay better for longer.

The next point I want to make is about social networking sites and how people think they are really helping by typing a few words on their keyboard. Again I'm not ungrateful for people's support-- it is nice to know people care and I know some of those people really are 'thinking of (me)' or 'praying for (me) and family'. But honestly, reacting with a sad face when my dad tells you I've been admitted to hospital? Top class care that is. If all you can muster when one of your 'friends' is in crisis, perhaps you're not the best match after all. And again, I understand that some people mean what they say-- I know my dad's work colleagues were concerned about him and me and the situation, I know people from St Micheal and All Angels care about, and were praying for, me. But people I haven't spoken to in years, people who have actually contributed to my anxiety, or to my depression, or have been callous with my grief, those people popping up and telling me they're there if I need to talk? No. You're not there anytime I need to talk, because I needed to talk a few years ago when I was in my first pit of depression, and you spread rumours and prompted me for gossip. You won't bring me anything I need, because now that I'm out of hospital your support seems to no longer be on offer. I also take umbrage to facebook's 'reactions' and people commenting on statuses because if people really genuinely cared, they would go out of their way to make a difference, like sending a card, or even just messaging privately on facebook; a status is put under your nose when you're checking your facebook feed "oh no, thinking of you". Do you then think to yourself "Yes, Francesca, today you have made a difference in Hana's life. She'll know you care deeply because you commented on her dad's status she was tagged in. I deserve a 'stigma free' medal!". I don't think so.

The final point I want to make, and of course the most obvious, is that I talk about people 'rallying round', but in all honesty, people don't. People do not want to get their hands dirty- no commitment, no obligation. I'll use that classic line "If mental illness was treated like physical illness ____".

Imagine, in Nottingham, Maggie's Cancer Trust (the cancer hub for Nottingham), and the newly opened Teenage Cancer Trust suite at QMC pack up, because they're looking towards more preventative treatments than inpatient, because if they can prevent enough cancer, the beds won't be needed because cancer won't exist or can be managed in the community. Imagine breaking your leg and waiting for 6 weeks to get it cast, in the meantime being prescribed the most run-of-the-mill painkiller because hey- if it works for one it woks for all! Let's go back to the case in point, my friend tried to kill herself a few years ago. She was suffering from depression and an eating disorder among other things. she was 14 years old, and because there weren't enough beds on any CAMHS (child and adolescent mental health services) units, she spent nearly two weeks on a post-surgery ward with a little boy who had an ear operation and a kid who fell off his bike and into a coma. Another example, I know someone else who tried to kill themselves. She had depression and anxiety, and was referred for counselling by her Doctor. The wait for assessment was 12 months, by which point her medication had started working and she was more stable, her assessor telling her (remember after the 12 month wait) that the therapy she had been referred to was not suitable for her. The reason I gave hypothetical scenarios for physical illness and genuine scenarios for mental illness is that you would never be waiting 6 weeks for a broken bone to be seen too, but if you've tried to kill yourself, waiting between 3 and 12 months to start treatment is a very real possibility. So is the bed shortage; if a child in Nottingham requires inpatient treatment specifically for an eating disorder, the closest units are in Lancashire and Solihull (Birmingham). I've talked a lot about the difference in health care for physical vs mental, and I wrote an entire blog post previously about the social attitude to mental illness in comparison to physical illness, so I think I've rambled on long enough for tonight. I will, however, sign off with some top tips:

1. Never dismiss someone's mental health problems. If someone's trusted you enough to tell you they're struggling, they deserve your respect. They've opened up about a big taboo so don't you dare belittle them.

2. Keep caring after the crisis is over. Just because they're no longer in hospital doesn't mean they don't still need a cup of tea or walk and a chat.

3. If you're struggling with mental health problems please, please talk to someone. Humans aren't as scary as you'd think.

You don't have to be suicidal to call, you don't have to be in crisis to call. But you can call in either of those scenarios as well.

Samaritans
24-hour confidential telephone, email and text message service.
Samaritans.org
Toll Free: 08457 90 90 90

C.A.L.M. Helpline

National helpline open 7 days a week, 5pm to midnight. Callers can talk through any issue.

wrt.lv/CALMzone

Phone: 0800 58 58 58

Also check out To Write Love on Her Arms, a charity dedicated for providing hope and finding help for those struggling with drepession, addiction, selfharm and suicide, along with a load of other issues. They're celebrating their 10th anniversary this year, well worth a drop in. www.TWLOHA.com

Where I've Been

In the last year I’ve been quite absent from the internet, once again. But for the last 11 weeks I’ve been quite absent from everywhere. I thought I would write a blog post to briefly explain what’s happened in my life over the last year and a half, and explain what I’m doing now, and this will hopefully be the first in a long line of weekly or bi-weekly posts.

Firstly, I did post a couple of times when I was away at drama school, and I posted one video after the most significant event of my life so far, which actually made no mention of the event. I’ve mentioned it in the posts from when I was in Birmingham, but I am now going to say in laymans terms, the truth which cannot be misinterpreted: My brother died on July 16^th 2015. It was the worst day of my life and the most traumatic event that I’ve ever had the displeasure of living through. Although the day is over, I can often find myself trapped back there, reliving the day in excrutiating detail. I have tried writing everything I can remember, in the hopes that my mind would stop replaying it now that it’s all written down, because it no longer had to ‘remember’. Unfortunately it didn’t work. I wrote 14 pages on Microsoft word in font size 11, one day when I was in Birmingham in the midst of a pit of depression, and it took me about 2 hours. I then emailed my support worker from the hospice Josh, my brother, used to go to for respite, telling her my hopes for not having my mind surprise me with what I call my ‘grievy gravy days’; the days that are totally consumed by my loss when I cannot escape the feelings of mourning and grief I feel; the days where the feelings come uninvited and seep into everything making my brain grey and soggy. On those days I can’t do anything but think of Josh, and I really am no use to anybody.

The second part of my explanation came out there; I’ve had depression. Big hand for any of you that have never picked up on my battle with mental illness in the past. I literally wrote a blog post explaining the lethargy of depression and how would I know unless I’d been there? Basically I’ve had recurrent depression since I was about 14, mixed with anxiety. We now know that I suffer with a mood disorder (story for another time) which involves mood swings from very high to very low, and my lows were frequent and severe. When I was in Birmingham I hit a low in around November, after what would have been my brother’s birthday. I developed unhealthy coping mechanisms which made my mood progressively worse over the months I was in Birmingham, and I became isolated, missing classes and withdrawing socially. When I came back from Birmingham I landed myself a job by making a good impression on someone’s child, and started working a month or so later. After I started my new job, my mood was up and (with a combination of medications and help from family) I was back on my feet. But not for long.

After my mood started coming up, I began to get a bit too ‘speeded up’; I had so much energy I didn’t need sleep, I could clean anything the world dirtied and I could talk for England. I ended up getting quite ill and that takes me to my last area of where I’ve been: hospital. I’m not officially out yet, but I’ve been on a lot of leave (going home for days and now overnight), and making the most of my new self. I’m not back to where I was, and I probably never will be. I’ll be moving forward from here a new person. I need to learn my limits, adjust to a routine where I will be doing things and hopefully going back to work and dog walking and baby-sitting, and start coping with life.

“I had to learn how to bend without the world caving in, I had to learn what I’ve got, what I’m not and who I am”

This is the start of my next chapter and I would love to share it with you. Every day without Josh is another challenge, but I know my family are going through the same pain as I am, and I can either write, or talk, or call Rainbows (the hospice Josh went to). Each time I ring Rainbows I just want to know about him, and often the carers there are able to tell me something new, or funny, or remind me of something I forgot I knew. Things I do know though, are: that he is missed by everyone who knew him; his life continues to inspire others, in spite of him no longer living it; that Josh’s life will continue through ours, like a candle being blown out with the smoke billowing for a time even after the flame’s gone; and lastly that I have his eyes. I will tell a wonderful story, though brief, about how Josh literally seeped into every aspect of my life, alive or dead. He’s still affecting me now and I know he was looking after me when I was in hospital.

Thank you for reading this post, I’m sorry if it leave questions unanswered, just ask them in the comments and I’ll try my best to reply as soon as possible. I’ll hopefully be writing again soon, weekly as I mentioned.

-Frankenfred