themindofcass-blog

[themindofcass-blog]

Thailand & Bali

So off me and My best friend went on our month trip in mid October 2018... And I tell you it was 100% needed. It’s was a group organised trip (so u didn’t need worry about travelling from place to place and had a group leader to deal with all issues that could come up) that in itself made all my stresses and worries melt away) it was great getting up every morning knowing you’d be doing something different and exciting (even some activities wasn’t exactly up my street) but I gave them a go and enjoyed it) I struggled to sleep first week initially. But by the third week I was starting to feel the most relaxed I’d felt in probably 2-3 years. I woke up happy and excited. I was just content. It was a shame the trip ended when it did. I felt I was just starting to become myself again and then it was home time? I felt another month would of re programmed my Brain as stupid as that sounds. Like learning to be happy again? It was a amazing trip and I met some lovely people. But for now it was back to reality again!!

[themindofcass-blog]

My counselling experience….

I met my new councillor. (He was majorly attractive, slightly off putting considering the situation) but he was lovely. Then after a little explanation from him telling me what the process was and we started.

He started off by explaining he knew I was there through recent events with my dad and wanted me to explain.

I started very briefly explaining to situation. But then there was long pauses…like he was just looking at me. It was weird to me sat here waffling on with him not saying anything. I’m aware they are trained to listen and know there stuff. But I felt I needed him to speak more, maybe even relate at times. I sort of relaxed half way once I got my head around it. But just by the time I was sort of getting the hang of it, my half and hour session was over. I came out thinking well what the hell was that about? I didn’t feel better, nor I felt worse. I decided to stick with it because it has to help, it’s medically advised so it must do.

Next few session were more or less the same thing. At least I now knew what I was walking Into. I talked about struggles but tried not to go over the same thing. I found myself avoiding things that made me emotional (which I know isn’t the best idea but it was like a natural instinct) like protecting myself.

The last one I went to I wasn’t in the mood to be sad. I was having a good day. I didn’t wanna be dragged back down. I talked mostly about my work issues and my over excessive worrying. Nothing too upsetting. Again I didn’t feel any different, not sad or majorly happy. Every session he asked weather I wanted to carry on with the sessions. And I did wonder weather he sensed this may not be the right path for me? He never said. Nor did he make me feel like it was a waste of time either. That was the last time I seen him before I set off on my trip. We said we would assess how I’m feeling and carry on if needed. And off I went.

I’m not sure I got a lot out of talking to him for 30 minutes every three or four weeks. It didn’t feel worse for it. But I hoped to be sort of calmer. He did give a worry leaflet which was an ok read. But that was it really. I was doing ok for a while anyway. Maybe it did help and I just didn’t realise it? I was taking each day as it comes. Looking forward to little fun events planned throughout the year. Work was still the same. But I found being a little more positive when I had the energy went a long way.

I did feel 30mins wasn’t enough. I’d only start to properly talk half way through. I’m not sure weather i was ready for it either. First couple of times I did get upset. Which I know is normal. But I think I needed to be pushed a little to talk about them difficult areas more. Maybe them reading this blog would of helped. They could pin point things for me to talk about? Things they may see as a problem that I’m not dealing with maybe? I’ve not ruled out going back for other sessions. But for now I had a month around Asia to look forward to. And although nervous about the whole thing I was ready to Escape real life for a-bit and enjoy every moment!

[themindofcass-blog]

Back to reality,and it was worse than ever...Part two..

Come May/June 2018 I’d seriously lost the will to live. My sleeping was horrendous again. And work was driving me up the wall. I felt like I was literally going insane! I phoned in sick a few times due to lack of sleep and not having the sheer will to even get out of bed! I knew I couldn’t go on like this forever. My trip was still planned and I was annoyed it didn’t seem to make a difference to my mood. I should of been so excited. I should of been focusing on that. But I couldn’t, it was too far away. And I found myself doing the complete opposite.

I did go through a sort of angry stage. Which I’ve read is normal. But that fact alone doesn’t make it any easier. I was angry my dad left me in this state. What the fuck? I thought he was selfish. Why did this have to happen to me? Why did he not give a fuck about anyone but himself? And why should I care if he didn’t? I was annoyed I let this effect me so badly, I was such a strong, bubbly outgoing person 2 years ago, whats happened to me? And how do I get this back?

Normally these feelings would change to sadness. I know my dad loved me. I know he cared and I knew it wasn’t his fault. I just felt sorry for him. I was sorry I didn’t help more or do things differently. His addiction took over, and I don’t blame him for that. He needed professional help, But he wouldn’t take it. I wish someone would of pressed harder for him to consider. But wishing wouldn’t change it anymore so I had to learn to live with it.

I also tried to concentrate on little things to look forward to Like a friends birthday night out or an event planned. It worked for a while. There would be a big build up on excitement amongst friends and we would go out and have a great time. Problem was afterwards I’d feel so deflated, like OK what now? What’s next? I’d even feel lonely. I would think to myself what the fuck you’ve just spent a night with your friends get an actual grip! Most of my friends had boyfriends to turn to/some lived together. And while we was all nursing our hangovers they would spend it with them, meanwhile I’d spend it alone In my bedroom. That started to get to me really. I wanted someone I could turn to, rely on. But I knew I wasn’t ready for that just yet. I needed to concentrate on myself first.

I went on a weekend holiday abroad with about 15 other girls in July 2018. It was simply a chilled no fucks given holiday. Apart from the fact it was a weekend piss up. (I’ve been on these sorts of holidays plenty of times so I knew what I was getting myself into) I was looking forward to it, I felt I needed it by this point. Even though i’d not done the best on the weight loss front, I was determined to have a good time. Well I’d like to say I have good memories of that holiday but I don’t. I don’t have ANY memories. It was like I was blacked out the whole time I was there and my brain had shut down. I seemed to get really drunk all of a sudden even though I was being sort of careful. I felt I was acting out of character (by what people told me) I even cried one night (I never cry). I spent the last day so mortified I nearly had a panic attack. I kept asking my friend for reassurance. She had no idea how I was feeling I don’t think as I never said. But eventually I did calm down. I spent a week after being paranoid worried people hated me though. I thought to myself “WHY THE FUCK CANT I JUST ENJOY A HOLIDAY WITH THE GIRLS LIKE A NORMAL FUCKING PERSON WITHOUT BEING LIKE THIS?” It was exhausting. 

Something else that got to me was by now everyone around you seemed to forget what you had gone through. Friends and most family never mentioned it (which is understandable) and It feels like everyone around you doesn’t give a shit anymore, like you should be fine now? I remember a cousin saying to me once after the loss of her father in different circumstances is “you get many people texting u initially and it’s lovely, but that’s not when you need it most, it’s 6months down the line when it hits you” and she was 100% right. I know people do care about it, but it does feel isolating.

It was then I reached the conclusion that counselling May be the answer to this mess. what did I have to loose really? I rang and got the ball rolling and had my first appointment set for a few weeks time.

[themindofcass-blog]

Back to reality,and it was worse than ever...Part One..

PART 1 OF 2....

Come January 2018 I was back in work and everyone was feeling the January blues. No one more so than me. I needed to get out. But I didn’t have the belief or strength to put myself out there and look for a new job. The thought of an interview filled me with literal panic. I needed something to look forward to. Some sort of escape. I knew I’d struggle with the whole process of getting a new job so soon after dad passing, I realised not to be too harsh on myself. And decided I needed time to sort myself out first before sending my anxiety through the roof at possible job interviews.

My best friend (another little angel) was just recently single and we decided to book a month holiday trip around Asia for the October. This couldn’t of come at a better time (and I think she knew I desperately needed it) It was all sorted and booked in January. I just needed to get through the next 10 months and we would be free to go on a adventure of a lifetime! Plus a month off work? What a dream.

However the next 10 months was where I felt at my worst. It had only been 3 months since my dad passed. I was aware I would go through different emotions over a long period. I knew it was sort of normal, but I just didn’t expect how difficult it would actually be.

My weight was becoming a big issue for me. I was the biggest I had ever been and I genuinely hated looking in the mirror, in fact I hated every single part of me. With the trip just booked it gave me a little push and randomly on the spur of the moment I signed up for a 6 week boot camp challenge where if you lost 20 pounds you’d receive your £200 back. Great incentive, and everyone knew I was doing it because you had to post about it on social media. I also knew it would be a good distraction for me, and exercise is said to help mentally too. It was advertised as a kick start to a healthy lifestyle.

I literally followed the classes and food plans by the letter, I was ridiculously focused, even borderline obsessed. My confidence grew slightly and the weight dropped off. I even did this alone, I didn't no anyone at this gym, which sort of made it easier, they couldn't judge me and even if they did I didn't care. Everyone was really encouraging though, we was all in the same boat. I couldn't fail, all my friends and family knew what I was doing, and I hate to lose.

End of the 6 weeks was up, and I did it! 20 pounds gone in 6 weeks. And I had gained muscle. My before and after pictures were insane. It even helped with my back posture (it was horrendous). I have to admit I felt good for once, I still needed to loose another stone to be in a normal weight range, but I was well on my way. I decided to re invest my money into the gym so could continue with the classes.

Unfortunately my motivation started to decline. The diet wasn't sustainable for normal life. I couldn't even have a morning cup of tea. The timetable changed which made it less convenient for me to attend classes, So I started to skip them. I ate OK but slowly I started to return to my old habits. I think the problem was the fact it was so restrictive, but also mentally it was a complete battle. Eventually I couldn't be bothered to battle it anymore. It was like I didn't have the mental capacity to sustain something for a long period of time.....

PART TWO IN NEXT POST....

[themindofcass-blog]

The end of one hell, the start of another...

The next 2 months after loosing dad was all a bit of a blur.

A flood of messages came through to me on social media when I decided to announce details of the funeral (it was easier posting that there than repeating myself). Even some from people I hardly spoke to. And each one did help a little. It felt nice that people actually gave a shit.

Being next of kin had a lot of stuff to sort out. Arranging a whole funeral, sorting out paperwork, ringing banks/energy companies and emptying a whole flat was just some on my huge to do list. I ended up having 6 weeks off work, not that I was complaining and I had a lot to do.

If I’m being honest, being busy and having this list helped me keep busy and not sit and overthink, even though why I was doing all these things hurt me the most. Strangely I enjoyed being up and about being productive regardless of the task. Sorting flowers, selling a car and numerous tip visits. Ticking of the to do list made me feel like I’d accomplished something in the day.

The funeral was a understandably hard day. There was a huge turn out. People really liked my dad. He was really highly thought of. But none of them really knew the full story. Even his own brother said to me at the wake “oh he would of loved this you know” what he meant by this was all the people he knew in the pub having a good old laugh and a drink. I just agreed but inside I was like “you have no idea” I know he would of hated every second. He was withdrawn and seemed on edge if he wasn't in his comfort zone (his flat or in a quiet pub sat alone with possibly one or two people) On the few occasions I did see him around others at the end, he seemed to be awkward and couldn't wait to get away. His brother was half right though, he would of loved it...4 years before. It wasn’t his fault though, My dad hid it well, even me at times. But I could see right through him, I notice and observe everything, with everyone not just my dad.

All day I tried to hold it together, and I did well. I sat in a daze most of the day, but finally relaxed at the wake later on with friends and had drinks in his honour (he definitely would of approved).

After most of that was finished, It was time to go back to work! I thought oh fucking great, back to sitting down all day in a corner with my own thoughts pretending I don’t exist. But I only had three weeks left till the Christmas break. So I knew it wouldn’t be that bad and I’d get through it. Walking back into work everyone was really nice. I actually felt I needed and benefited from the break of the relentless boring work routine. I found I was quite productive. I Focused on my work (even though it was mind numbing) I did well I thought. But once Christmas came I was glad I got to escape again.

Work was great with the situation and gave me all the time I needed. It’s a massive shame I’m not happy there. The company and people are brilliant. But the job just doesn’t satisfy my creative mind and desire to enhance my career. It would be easier if I was happy to sit there doing what I’m doing, but I can’t pretend anymore. It really kills my vibe.

Christmas went OK. I went on a few nights out with friends as normal But I still felt emotionless. Like I was walking around hollow. I didn't know what to do. I sensed people staring at me (obviously knowing what had happened in recent months) and people were lovely. And I appreciated that. I just felt on edge and didn’t now how to act? I know there wasn’t a right way or a wrong way, but I found myself feeling awkward. I could be stood in a room full of people and felt sort of disconnected. Like I wasn’t really there. Very Weird feeling.

In all this My mum was my absolute angel. She helped me so much through all my struggles with my dad, even took two weeks off work when my dad died and never left my side. I don’t think I could thank her enough if I tired. She is my best friend. We have always been very close. I still lived at home which helped with feeling lonely or isolated. But I still struggled internally. This made me feel guilty and angry. Why couldn’t I snap out of this? I’ve got an amazing mum stood there right in front of me helping me which some people would kill for, what was wrong with me!!!!! I also thought its not like you didn't predict this outcome, you knew it was coming, so why are you like this now?

I started to binge eat occasionally which led to me Putting on more weight. Bad move for my confidence, it was already in pieces. My sleeping was absolutely horrendous. I’d have nightmares about friends and family leaving me,being mean to me or people I care about dying. I’d wake up sweating convinced I’d heard knocking and someone was trying to get into my house to hurt me and my family.

I started with stomach issues, being bloated and constantly having heartburn all the time. I was irritated,distant and tired. I became not a nice person to be around. Wasn’t very talkative and just wanted to be alone. I was still very up and down all the time, which was frustrating, one minute I’d be OK, the next I’d be so down and lonely. It was a cycle I kept going around on and I just hoped it would stop...but it didn’t seem to be happening.

I ended up going to my doctor for some help. I explained my physical symptoms (sleeping and stomach issues) They gave me sleep and stomach medication to try help. And they did help mostly. I was offered counselling . But I didn’t take up there offer on that occasion, I was doing OK and I knew most of my feelings were “normal” with loosing a parent. It was just something I’d have to ride out. Even doctors said my symptoms should settle......

[themindofcass-blog]

POST 4 OF 4…WATCHING THE DECLINE OF MY DAD….

My career was at a standstill, but I couldn’t even think about that while all this was unfolding because I’d lost my will,my drive and my self confidence was at rock bottom. Work wasn’t helping with my mental state, and I knew that. I was so bored,constantly thinking, worrying. My mind needed some sort of focus, but I didn’t use my brain at work. So it was left to wander, which personally I think is the worst thing. Work was round the corner from dad and they was fine with me having to help him sometimes ( I never really told them the full story, just that he was diabetic and had trouble controlling it) I thought the only positive thing about work is that it was 5 mins away from dad, so if he needed me I would be straight there.

Watching your dad slowly kill himself with alcohol alongside his health issues is something I thought I handled quite well (until recently) People used to tell me how strong I was. My dad even commented on it once. I was quick to say I’m not I just pretend I am. Hoping he would see what he was doing to others around him (me). 

I didn’t want to project guilt on him. Because I thought that would make him feel even worse. I also was advised to basically loose my shit with him to show him how serious this was. But again I choose the more diplomatic route in fear he would start not saying anything or stop ringing for help. 

There was a few moments all throughout this story where I felt my old dad was finally back. If I was lucky and caught him on one of his good days. He would be upbeat, funny, laughing and joking. We had some right laughs, like really! He was a naturally funny person. Something my mum says I have inherited too. But with my dad, this great side to him slowly started to disappear.

On a Monday in October 2017, I got this sense something was wrong. Now your probably thinking yeah right bullshit! but hear me out. I was ringing dad every day or every other to make sure he was OK by this point. Most of the time he seemed fine, other times slightly irritated I was pestering him. With the weekend just gone, I’d not rang the Saturday or Sunday because I was busy and by the time I would remember I knew he would be sleeping (he would sleep very early). I didn’t really like the weekend calls, I didn’t want to hear him drunk, it sent my anxiety through the roof. I think I subconsciously started to avoid them to be honest, I was sick of being hurt.

Come Monday when I had not heard from his work, I knew he was OK because I would of got a phone call so that was reassuring. That night by the time I had got in ate tea and showered it was late. I was annoyed at myself and thought oh god I will make sure I ring tomorrow dinner while i’m at work. I always slept with my phone on loud so I would hear it if he needed me. Someone told me you could have your phone on silent but assign certain contacts to bypass that so your phone would ring. It was something I kept meaning to do but never did. That night I finally worked out how to do it and set it. I didn’t sleep well that night. I was worried and something just didn’t sit right.

Next day, at 10am. I got the last final phone call from work saying he hadn’t shown up for work. He is meant to start at 7.30am.

This was only 6 weeks after another episode. (one of the worst to date).

I literally ran out of work and got there as fast as I possibly could. When I got there and ran upstairs I heard his alarm for work going off (not a good sign). I could see he was lay on his couch but there was no noise, no movement, nothing.

I don’t really remember but I don’t even think I shouted him. I just knew I was too late. 

Seeing him lay there that day was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done. That wasn’t my dad I seen. Grey is the word that sticks with me. 

He was grey. And he was only 59. I’d just turned 29 two weeks before. I rang an ambulance (no idea why) and the women on the phone was actually shouting at me to lie him flat but I wouldn’t and couldn’t go near him, I was terrified. In the end they made me go downstairs to get help and some policeman happened to be round the corner and someone I know who was in a shop next door ran for some sort of help. 

The policeman took over straight away, took one look at him and confirmed that he was dead. He Even said “Sorry love he’s been like this a while” Yeah great cheers for that! But then another said he wasn’t there that long and started to explain but by this point I stopped listening to there technical explanation because it didn’t really matter did it? 

I never really felt anything, completely numb and emotionless is how I would describe it. I didn’t even cry that much. But I’ve never been a crier (another issue of mine). 

That day will stick with me forever. It literally broke me that he was all alone. Did he know he was ill and decide not to call me? Or did he just fall asleep and never wake up? That I will never know. The only positive I could find was that because he would go into a coma first is that he never knew what was coming, so he didn’t suffer. I also thought it was possible he was using his diabetes as a sort of tool to end his life? People don’t think this is the case. But I still can’t rule that out. 

Specially as I learned afterwards that he was ill in work the day before and looked shocking (according to other workers) and his blood sugar level device keeps a record up to 30 days. The last time he checked it was the Sunday night (it was high). WHY DID HE NOT CHECK IT ALL DAY MONDAY? COULD HE NOT BE BOTHERED? DID HE FORGET TO TAKE IT WORK? My guess is he came home from work Monday about 4pm, feeling awful. Had a lie down and never got back up.

And that was it. The end of something that had been going on what seemed a lifetime. My life for the past 2 or 3 years was constantly filled with ups and downs. But now there wasn’t any ups anymore. Life seemed to stand still for a while. 

I naively believed I had got through the worst time of my life. I even felt a small sense of relief that the nightmare was over. But little did I know there was a lot more that followed I’d have to deal with….. 

CASS X

[themindofcass-blog]

Reflecting on my recent posts..

I started this blog to get all my thoughts out of my head. A few life changing events happened in recent years and I felt I needed a outlet. Some which people may find upsetting to read. But for others it could help them relate to similar experiences or to simply not feel so alone. 

I started this blog three days ago, and I have not been able to stop writing since. This has come as a shock to me, because i’m not a writer. I struggle with it to be honest. But talking about my own thoughts and feelings has been refreshing and surprisingly easy. 

Some of the content was upsetting to type up initially, but then my writing has literally snowballed and more thoughts and experiences keep coming to mind that I've not addressed.

I’m so glad I started. It really is helping already. With the amount I have written in such a short space of time its no wonder I was feeling overwhelmed.

I will continue my story shortly :) 

CASS X

[themindofcass-blog]

I am still in the process of the painful bit, But its my ultimate goal. Really relevant to my recent blog posts!

I understand that it’s very painful now, but the most important thing is that you are able to grow from it, learn from it, and emerge as an even better person.

[themindofcass-blog]

Really relevant to my recent blog posts 💖💔

“It hurts to wait for someone who’s never coming back again.”

— 3 am thoughts (via suspend)

[themindofcass-blog]

POST 3 OF 4…WATCHING THE DECLINE OF MY DAD....

Dad now spends most his time alone in his flat drinking (if not at work). It’s probably worth mentioning that I didn’t see him drunk that often (he would do it at weekends when he knew I would be busy doing other things and when hes not working). My life felt like a yo-yo, constantly up and down depending on how dad was behaving. My career was at a standstill too but I didn’t have the energy to change it.

He would reach out to me for help when he was poorly and it got to the point he couldn’t think straight. His sugar levels would rocket, leaving him confused and his breathing so rapid it was as if he was having a heart attack. Many times I had to rush out of work to get him to a hospital quickly. It was a nightmare. Once stabilised at hospital you could see his memory and alertness return. Which was nice, but never lasted long.

By this point I walked round constantly on edge. If my phone rang and it was him my heart would sink, I even joked about it, telling him he gives me anxiety and that he best be behaving himself. That was my way of telling him how I felt, Most of the time he was ok (sort of). But my worrying was getting worse, I worried constantly. I felt sorry for him being alone, I knew it was a primary reason for his drinking, but I couldn’t seem to get through to him. I even suggested him getting a dog on numerous occasions for the company and to give him a purpose in life. (he absolutely loved dogs) A guy from work used to bring one to the unit where my dad worked and he was obsessed, it’s all he ever talked about. He shrugged the idea off saying they cant have two dogs at work. When that stopped, he still didn’t consider. And the saddest thing of all is I believe this small change could of saved him, if only for a short while.

My dads phone calls for help slowly started to be less frequent. This I believe was him being embarrassed about it. And not wanting to burden me. I also don’t know if at this point, he even wanted to be helped.

Its important to point out that he wasn't a abusive, mad alcoholic. He was still my funny, amazing dad. He was just lost and lonely and had a drinking problem.

Now what I was left with is phone calls from work saying he hadn’t shown up. One day he didn’t turn up for work and I got a phone call. I Knew this was bad news. I got there and dad was in a diabetic coma. So I rang 999. Sitting with him in A&E with many nurses and doctors working on him to stabilise his condition. while all around me other patients was coming in from major accidents, I seen blood everywhere in another room, doctors running about shouting orders for people critically ill, it was absolute chaos. My stress levels as you can imagine off the scale by this point. Short while later dad would be stable enough to move to high dependence’s unit to keep close eye on him, he wouldn’t have a clue what was happening until he was stable and eventually woke up, normally the next day.

This scenario happened more than once. In fact the same thing happened three other times. I learned from his hospital stay and me going into his flat that his drinking had gone beyond what you would deem normal. Hidden bottles of vodka in random places. It wasn’t a shock, as I knew he had a problem for a long time. He just refused to address it or take it seriously. I’d even water it down while he wasn’t looking. There was a pattern forming also. If he didn’t have work on the weekends, he would get himself into right states. Then by Monday or Tuesday once he sobered up he would be ill and have to be hospitalised because of his diabetes. He would tell me he had a week off work coming up and I’d know what was coming and dread it…it was even a running joke with his boss he wasn’t allowed a lot of time off because he always ends up ill!!

Sometimes people in hospital would comment on his appearance. One nurse turned to me on one occasion and said “he’s a drinker isn’t he?” “I can tell by his red face” Some would seem annoyed at his lack of care to himself, but I think it was all a cry for help, and it was like no one seen it but me.

Doctors tried to send him somewhere to be educated on managing his diabetes. This wasn't the main issue, which annoyed me. He would come back with leaflets on different foods and how many grams of fat and carbs were in different foods, which even I didn't understand. He didn't even no what a carb was. His brain wasn't functioning very well at this stage, I could tell a mile off. He wouldn't understand simple things or forget easily. His problem was the drink, and I told professionals this. They just seemed to focus on the diabetes because that was the end reason for all his hospital stays. I don’t blame them though, they did an amazing job every time he was in there, just maybe I should of aired my major concerns a bit more.

He didn’t seem to give a crap about anything anymore. In the end I don’t think he cared if he woke up from a coma or not to be honest. The last bad episode I said to him “dad, doesn’t it scare you if it wasn’t a week day, work wouldn’t of rang me and I wouldn’t of known. You wouldn’t be here anymore” he just replied “well it does now because I know what went on but didn't at the time” but it didn’t seem heartfelt…it was like he had gave up on life. What probably hurt the most is that my shear existence (his only daughter) didn't seem to make a difference.

Loneliness plays a massive role in this story. He was a older man by himself most of the time. Even at work he would mostly be alone. I’d go round and see how careless he was with his appearance and how he wouldn’t socialise with other people very often. He had holidays from work with no one to do anything with. I tried to be there as best as I could. But it wasn’t enough. I felt I was fighting a loosing battle. We would go out for tea every Wednesday (something I suggested to get him out the house) And mostly he seemed to love it. He would shower and shave and wear his best shirt (so cute). Towards the end though, he didn’t seem to enjoy it that much, he was reserved and his sugar levels were all over the show, leaving him tired, confused and feeling ill.

Every time he got ill and then recovered. I would try to encourage him to make better choices. I even accepted the fact that he wasn’t going to give up the drink. But instead of going overboard I suggested he could still enjoy a beer at the pub and socialise while still being in control of his life. It fell on deaf ears. To be honest I was stupid to think it was that easy, he was in far too deep by now. It was around this time I started to realise that this situation was only going to go one way. I felt like I’d already lost him, it was as if I was preparing for the inevitable.

And turns out it the inevitable was sooner than I thought…

CASS X

[themindofcass-blog]

POST 2 OF 4…WATCHING THE DECLINE OF MY DAD..

I started to notice slight changes in my dad probably around 2015 (around the time I finished uni).

With my nanna being alone a lot of the time she started being very forgetful and developed dementia. She loved her home and we didn’t want to take her away from it. So my dad and his brothers organised home help and all sorts like panic buttons (even one on her wrist) to keep her safe. However one morning when the carer came to check on her, she had fallen in the bathroom and couldn’t get back up. The door was shut and the fire brigade had to come to get her out. She had been there all night :( and never pressed her panic button on her wrist.

That was the first time I seen my dad cry (I was around 26 at the time)..only was for a few seconds…but I realised how much she meant to him. He had a tendency to have short fuse with her at times because she constantly repeated the same things. That changed once she was put into a home. I don’t think he liked her being there to be honest, you could see it hurt him watching her slowly forget things and not be able to do things for herself. Although she seemed to know who my dad was, even right till the very end. July 2016 she sadly passed away.

Dad had already started not going to the pub as much, which to be honest I was happy about as he was known to get himself into silly states sometimes. He had a few money issues but slowly started getting that back on track and everything was looking up. He even quit is 40 a day smoking habit cold turkey just randomly one day few year prior to this. He said once the smoking ban in pubs was announced he wasn’t doing it anymore! Thanks smoking ban! You helped at least one person quit for good!

Over the course of the next couple of years, dad seemed very low. He was a hard worker that worked a lot (even weekends) but once at home he would have a drink and sleep his night away till the same thing resumed the next day. He diet was poor (he never was a big eater) But the more he drank the more his diabetes was harder to manage. His pub visits got less frequent but instead he sat alone at home and drank.

And this is where it started to get serious…

[themindofcass-blog]

My Dad, my Hero

This is going to be a long story (split into three or four posts which will follow on from each other) because there is a lot of details to cover. But I will try to explain myself as simply as possible so people understand. Some people may find the content upsetting (just a warning) I’m mainly doing this to help me get all this out of my head. But also I know people out there will of been affected just like me in parts in my story, which they may find comfort knowing they are not alone...

POST 1 OF 4...

My dad...

My dad was my hero! As a little girl I literally worshipped the ground he walked on. I loved being with him, he was kind and funny. I didn’t live with my dad which explains why I looked up to him more so. Every weekend I’d stay over for one night and visit for tea one day in the week. I would sit at the window on Saturday morning waiting for him to walk down the street. He never let me down.

My dad was single most of his life so he lived with his mum for a while when a was little. Nanna was your typical lovely women who would cook over sized meals and fuss around you. An absolute legend if you ask me! 

Dad would take me to his home where my nanna would cook the best home cooked meals while I would draw, watch cartoons or play with my toys. Nanna taught me so much like how to cross stitch, and she would fix my teddies that were broken with a few stitches. One thing I’ve not mentioned so far is at 27 my dad was diagnosed with type one diabetes. Which he had to take insulin to stable it on a daily basis. Nanna taught me from a young age how to handle special pens in case my dad fell into a coma and she wasn't there (something I never had to do thankfully) there was a few episodes at a young age I witnessed dad acting out of character when he had “hypos” which were scary but always were sorted out quickly.

Dad would sit watching telly and more often than not fall asleep for half an hour (why do dads nap so much?) then later on dad would tuck me into bed at night and I’d happily go to sleep straight away. One night however I didn’t go straight to sleep, and I heard dad go out the door not long after I got in bed. Panic set in. Where was he going? Why had he left me? I went and asked my nanna and she just told me to go back to bed. I was upset and confused? But this is was the first memory I have of dad not really being the perfect father figure I thought I had….

I soon go over that episode, and I slowly started to learn that dad liked a drink at the pub. With nanna always being home he would go once I was in bed. I even decided this was ok, I wasn’t totally alone and I didn’t want him to be bored because of me right?

Fast forward many years and dad got his own flat. Nanna started to be forgetful and repeat herself a lot and he needed his own space (although he visited her nearly every day)

I stayed at dads flat a lot as a teenager (I would be out with my friends and come back later on) he was the cool dad at this point, I was allowed in later, never shouted and fun to be around! He had a few girlfriends in his time but nothing ever long term. He seemed set in his ways and happy to do his own thing. 

Dad refused to let his diabetes to effect his life, even with professionals telling him drinking isn’t the best option for him. He wouldn’t listen and for years he would go out with friends and drink rather a lot. He managed his diabetes very well considering his choices.

But this was just the start....    

[themindofcass-blog]

The Start of my mental decline…

In 2015 I walked out of uni with a first class degree in graphic design full of beans. I remember being so happy and content with life. I had achieved more than I imagined, although not fully confident. Uni had filled me with the desire to throw yourself in at the deep end and go for any opportunities. I was excited to enter the creative world of work. I love to learn, I couldn’t wait to get started. I was older than your average uni graduate (started uni when I was 23) But it didn’t phase me. I knew I had weaknesses to overcome now I finally had my dyslexia diagnosis, but I was more than ready for the challenge.

Half way through uni…I landed an paid internship which I did alongside uni. It was a great opportunity. It gave me real experience (which every job wants you to have) Although not the most creative of jobs, it was a start. It was near home and had a friendly atmosphere.

Once I had graduated they offered me a full time position. Which was very convenient considering how hard creative jobs were to get at the time. And although I thought it lacked creativeness, I was told there was other areas of the business I could explore and get experience on, which was a winner in my eyes. I at least could look more employable staying here for a while to gain experience surely?

Well this is where my downfall began. 

It turned out that other opportunities were few and far between. Each yearly review came and I expressed every time I wanted a more challenging role and to learn more (I seem to get bored if i’m not learning something or doing something creative) But it seemed to be overlooked. I eventually got a few opportunities that was in line with my graphic design background, but again not very creative. I started to become frustrated,annoyed and if i’m honest a little depressed. I felt worthless and not important. I was normally so upbeat and a positive person, even one manager labelling me “the happiest employee” 

My job became absolutely mind numbing. And with that gave me a lot of time to think, too much time really. My motivation slowly disappeared and started to convince myself I wasn't good enough to get another job. I tried a few times when I found what little drive I had left in me. But I was unsuccessful. Problem was my current job wasn't giving me the experience in areas that they were looking for (print experience for example) I felt stuck. Not knowing what to do and how to change my situation. 

There was something else going on in my life which contributed to my slow decline, I subconsciously let my career take a back seat and this other reason that also contributed to to my lack of self worth, doubt and confidence. And this reason is the story of my dad.

Very long next post pending...  

 CASS X

[themindofcass-blog]

Why I’ve kept this blog a secret from everyone I know.

First off, I’m 100% not advising people to not talk to people about individual struggles. I have just found that expressing my true feelings to people around me gives me some negative feelings. 

In my last post about my dyslexia, One of my positive traits was  Exceptional empathy and warmth, and feeling for others. 

This for me has become a recent problem, because I feel EVERYTHING. I struggle to open up to people I know because I will feel my own feelings as well as theirs, which majorly stresses me out. 

I thought by writing in secret it would help me process my feelings without the added pressure? well that’s what I hope anyway.

CASS X

[themindofcass-blog]

Being diagnosed Dyslexic half way through university!!! 

I graduated from uni in 2015...with a FIRST class degree in graphic design. Getting a first was a HUGE deal...being dyslexic and struggling massively with the written assignments, I didn't think it was possible for me. I never really understood the point of these assignments or why I had to argue with myself on a subject and go round in circles (that’s what it felt like anyway). it was frustrating at times but the practical side of the course I absolutely loved...which was what pulled me through and got me that first!

I never felt ready to leave uni, I had gained confidence but I felt I would of benefited from another year to iron out some of my struggles.

My dyslexia was only diagnosed half way through my uni course (one my tutors was dyslexic and noticed)

Weirdly It wasn't shocking news to me...I knew for a long time there was something different about me but I couldn't work out what that was. I hid maths and English difficulties in school due to embarrassment and I knew some teachers would just assume I was lazy and didn't practice (this was not the case). I also couldn't process learning different languages. I find it mind blowing people can actually do this! I literally scraped though this by visualising words in my head, then a absolute miracle came and my year at school was allowed to drop languages for our last two years to choose other subjects! I was literally so happy about this! I took graphics and art instead and it was the best decision for me. Makes me sad that other students in other years was forced to pick a language to learn (we was the only year) specially as I know it would of been such a waste of time for me.

Looking back I’m sort of annoyed my dyslexia was not picked up on sooner, I may of done better in other areas and could of been taught how to manage it? But I did help me understand myself better.

My positive traits: 

Curiosity

Strong imagination

Strong reasoning skills

Ability to see the "big picture"

Exceptional empathy and warmth, and feeling for others

Can be very driven, ambitious and persistent

Can experience thought as reality

Highly aware of the environment

Creativity

Great intuition and insightful

My struggles:

Low self-esteem

Easily frustrated

Difficulty with maths/spelling and writing

Procrastination

Overwhelmed if not fully understood the task ahead

What I have come to realise in the last few years while struggling with difficult events in my life is that I think my dyslexia has had an impact on my mental health, like its become more profound. Which I will explain in my next post. 

Thanks for reading (if there is any of you)

CASS x

[themindofcass-blog]

If someone told me four years ago I would end up in a place where I would be writing this blog to help myself (and others), I would of laughed and never believed them.

BUT here I am. A 30 year old graphic designer (sort of)

First off I want to address I have never written a blog before. Writing isn’t my strong point and never has been, if i’m being completely honest i’m actually dyslexic which nearly put me off starting this. But I Decided even if no one reads this it will help me so its totally worth doing! 

Now I hope that hasn’t put people off reading, I just thought it would explain why my writing will be slightly basic (with possibly a few grammar errors). The upside to this is it should be a very easy read.

I aim to address issues I’ve been having in the next few weeks such as:

Anxiety

Dyslexia 

Bereavement

Social Pressures

Depression/loneliness

Work life

Relationships

Sleep problems

Low-self esteem

Counselling 

  I have no idea how I am going to structure these blog posts but i’m going to give it my best shot and try to wing it (like i’m doing with my life at the moment) I thought sharing my story would help me get my thoughts out of my head, even if your story is different to mine, I hope people can relate to certain parts and help someone else not feel so alone. Well here it goes...

cheers!

CASS x