It’s like booking a colonic, and then getting the sh*ts
It’s like booking a colonic, and then getting the sh*ts
My first instinct here is to apologise but I am trying a new thing where I stop apologising to people so…er…hi again.
There are several reasons why it has been a very long time since I wrote a post, the main one being that as I have got older I have become less confident and I was fearful of you lot judging me. Now, however, I know that you’ve probably scrolled past this in between lots of baby pictures, so thanks! Not that I hate babies but I might not feel better about myself knowing little Tammy has now sprouted a tooth. Now if Tammy’s mum would post about the fact she gets nipple thrush and couldn’t get a decent nights sleep if she paid for it, I would feel less like an inadequate human woman but such is life.
I am not okay.
That sounds depressing to type and I am sure it looks weird to read but the ability to tell someone, anyone, that I am not okay is the most liberating thing I have ever done. I mean had it been the sixties I’d have burned my bra but then knowing me I’d have knocked myself out jumping up and down in celebration. Thanks for the boobs Sandy!
The pressure to be and to feel “fine” is so destructive that I will take one for the team and tell you straight off the bat.
I am not fine.
There are various reasons why I hate 2017 and everything that has happened in it but it frankly doesn’t matter why I feel the way that I do, the important thing is that I have right to feel shit and sometimes, no matter how much I try not to. I just feel shit.
I could reel off a list of reasons why, when I am down I feel awful, but it doesn’t matter. You probably have had worse, or not. The funny thing is , once you tell people you have depression, there’s is weird time where you have to justify your diagnosis by relaying of a list of “terrible” things that have happened. In reality had I compared my list to the fact there are children dying in Africa, no it isn’t that bad. Ok so one time I couldn’t face anyone so my sister had to drive me to M&S in Handforth Dean for a latte. Oooh. It was a big deal but I don’t see Bob Geldof chatting about that any time soon. Also – it is possible to have depression and still be happy. Sounds weird I know. Just because I feel a bit crap doesn’t mean I won’t find you walking into a lamppost funny. Laughter and depression are not mutually exclusive.
p.s. M&S in Handforth Dean is lovely – please don’t go there though because I go there to avoid people and you’ll ruin it.
Sometimes I cry on the tram
This is for the wonderful commuters that I share 3 hours of my life with every day. Sometimes I cry on the tram. Soz. FYI if I also have a bottle of sugar free Vimto on me I’m probably just hungover.
At this point there is a woman who I need to thank. I had some bad news a few weeks back and like any sensible adult (buying antidepressants in Sainos) I just collapsed. This woman, I have no idea who she was, sat with me during a pretty shit 20 minutes and I never even asked her name. If you were the one that sat next to me outside Spoons while I wailed like a banshee.
As bad as it got before I faced the fact that I was not ok, the kindness I have seen from my friends, family and just general strangers makes me wish I had told someone much much earlier.
My friends and family are the best.
I can hear you saying to yourself that that is not true, that your mates are the best but I will stop you right there. You are wrong.
The bunch of weirdos that I have the privilege to call my friends are in fact the best thing that has ever walked the planet. End of. Equal parts ridiculous and astonishing, their support for me and for each other has been magnificent. I should not have left it as long as I did before I told them how I felt. They probably wish I had, but the beauty of friendship is that they are now stuck with me and I will never keep anything from them. They say knowledge is power and I agree. If your friends know what you are going through, they will and can help.
There isn’t really a point to this post apart from to tell you that I have anxiety and depression and I am very proud of myself for being able to say that.
If I see you in M&S Handforth Dean I will know that either you haven’t read this or you did and went anyway.
Balls in your court.
p.s. If you are or have been struggling with anything I can’t tell you how important it is to realise that others are going through the same. Elefriends by Mind is a chat group where people can talk openly about how they feel, the Samaritans are lovely and you can even email them. Please don’t suffer in silence.
Unless you are in M&S in Handforth Dean, in which case don’t speak to me.
Sorry I haven’t posted in ages but if you go over to https://sophiesheruns.wordpress.com you’ll see why.
Speak Very Soon,
Afternoon Dear Reader,
No I haven’t passed out on my keyboard, although that is a distinct possibility seen as I am blimmin knackered. That is the written equivalent of the noise I make when I think about last weekend.
There is is again.
It loosely translates as the word you say when you would happily peel your own skin off it it meant you could go back in time and not do the embarrassing thing that made you go FLARGH in the first place.Now you may be surprised to know that there are quite a lot of things I have done that I am particularly embarrassed about. (Alright not that many!). Most of them involve Tina Turner, alcohol, public places, or a combination of all three.
This time, however, my anxiety relates to the British Adult Ice Skating Championships 2016.
Hi there its Sophie Fox, Marathon Runner here.
Yes I know – I am very annoying but ‘tis true, I ran a marathon! I finished in 4 hours 42 minutes and 8 seconds (the seconds are very important apparently). The more I think about it the more frustrating it is that I didn’t manage it in less than 4 hours 30 but just typing that sentence makes me hate myself a little bit. Continue reading
Sweet child of mine what am I doing?
It is here, the big day, the day I Sophie Fox, who once ate a kebab I found in a drawer, is running a marathon. Continue reading
Bonsoir mes Chers Lecteurs! Ca va?
Okay – that is the extent of my written French. I am a fluent speaker, and by fluent I mean some brie and a bottle of vin rouge and I think I am Coco Chanel when I probably sound like the policeman from Allo Allo: Continue reading
No your eyes are not deceiving you – it is I, Sophie Fox. Messing up your timeline with the kind of self-obsessed drivel that makes Donald Trump sound like the Dalai Lama.
Happy Christmas, Winter Solstice, Hannukah, New Year, Dry January, and Pancake Tuesday.
I have decided to start writing again. Mainly because my dad keeps bugging me about it but also, I feel like you, Dear Reader, were so welcoming to me nearly two years ago and I am not repaying the favour. It is the equivalent of bringing round a bottle of cheap plonk to a dinner party and then drinking the Verve Cliquot someone else brought.
I would never do that btw…