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Wednesday 24 December 2014

Ave Maria - December 2014 Round Up

Listening to the Stevie Wonder version of Ave Maria in bed and have decided that it is time.

Regular readers will know I always do a december post on here. I usually do it much earlier in the month than this but I was struggling to find a unifying theme. I have it now so here we go.

Been a hell of a year 2014. I started it hopeful that I would get out of my depression, that things would magically get better at work and that  wouldn't feel the soul crushing dragging feeling of anxiety and loss.

In February my beloved Uncle Brian died unexpectedly. Because of the appalling way bio mum was treated I ended up falling out with 2 of my cousins at a time when we should have been leaning on each other.  Amazing how they didn't really want to know him the whole time I was caring for him but as soon as they thought there was some money they were suddenly the doting bereaved children. I will never forgive them for not letting me go to his flat one last time so I could say goodbye to the man who called me the daughter he should have had, nor will I forgive them for treating his sister so callously at her time of deep loss.

I miss you every day Uncle Brian. I miss your laugh and your silly sayings and your support and passion. But you know what? When you died I had no doubt about how you felt about me and I know you knew how much I loved you and that is a gift. Also, I am back speaking to Mum. We're taking it slowly but we are getting there. And I am even closer to Ian and Kelly now. I think you would be proud of me. I love you.

In March I accepted voluntary redundancy. My health was suffering due to bullying by management and by certain members of PCS. I had truly had enough. I had low energy, I was anxious and tired all the time, I couldn't stop crying and could barely leave the flat.

It was a massive decision to make but by then the bullying in PCS had got so bad that I was actively looking forward to leaving. It saps your energy when you are being bullied. So much so that you get paranoid about where the next attack is coming from. You stop trusting people. You feel really isolated. All because I refused to be anyone's puppet and tried to make things better for my members.

In May I attended my last PCS conference. I was on the Group SOC and we were told more than once that it was the best conference for years. We worked hard to give the branches the conference they wanted and we withstood the battering and bullying from certain factions of the GEC and stuck to our guns because dammit, it was IMPORTANT to us to make sure that PCS was actually member led. My health was still quite bad but at NDC I argued and won for a policy supporting sex workers, argued and won a policy supporting abortion rights in Northern Ireland and argued and won reaffirmation of affiliation to Abortion Rights.

Then I went off sick.

And that was when it started to get better. I took my wife and daughter person to Glastonbury. I had a couple of wobbles while I was there but I got to see Dolly Parton mutha truckas! Watching the daughter person start to come out of themselves was amazing and so was seeing Skrillex, Massive Attack and my new faves Dub Pistols. I missed Metallica as I was sobbing in my tent having a panic attack but you can't win them all.

Tolpuddle Martyrs Festival was awesome. I got Owen Jones drunk, had a picture of me, him, MJ and a polar bear nicked by the dick splash Guido Fawkes and got to have a walkie talkie. Also did the martyrs walk for the first time. I love Tolpuddle, it is really hard work but it recharges the old trade union batteries like nothing else does. And I bumped into the main bully from my branch who tried to talk to me.

I told him to fuck off.

Which was nice.

I also left my job of 11 years.

I thought there would be a magical ending of the depression when I finally left. Took me months to recover properly.

Going to Reading where I finally saw the World's Sexiest Ginger (Josh Homme) helped somewhat.

September I started my new job. I love it. I am doing trade union organising full time now and I am doing it with full support of a manager and colleagues. Amazing what I can get done when I am not being bullied!

What else have I been up to?  I went zombie walking, reclaiming the night, to a feminist comedy night and to the Dum Tee Dum Awards where I won caller of the year! People like to take the piss out of me for my love of The Archers but sod them, I love it and when (if) I grow up I want to be Lillian. I am already there with the love of gin and ciggies and a dirty cackle, but I do manage to do my own knitting.

December is now. And how am I coping? Much better. I am still not completely right. I still have my wobbles and I have a hole in my heart where my two sons should be (long story, another time perhaps) but for once I am really really enjoying it. I am far more comfortable in my own skin and far more confident in my abilities. And I got a fuck tonne of really great tattoos.

So what is the unifying theme?

Love and family.

There have been some truly dreadful happenings this year. Reeva Steenkamp not really getting anything that felt like justice. Boko Haram stealing women with seeming impunity. Palestinian children being murdered by Israel. Dude bros going on killing sprees because they didn't get their dicks wet.

We have more people using food banks than ever before. We have disabled people dying and the Tories not giving a shit. Peshawar.

So much darkness in the world. It threatens to drown me and then...

I have The Lovely. I have The Wife Lady. I have the daughter person. I have my cousin and his fiancee. I have me Mam. I have The Bear. I have Ada and the Mahanga.The Clangers, Lovely Tina, Comrade, Torty, Abbi. I have friends and colleagues who care about me. I have love. I have support.

As previously mentioned I have a fuck tonne of really cool tattoos!

This year has been getting better and better. I may not ever be out of the depression woods but I am learning to live with it because I have people who love me not in spite of it but because of it.

Do I miss my old job? No. I am sad that the public have nowhere to get face to face advice on tax but I don't miss being a civil servant. Those people deserve any payrise they get as they are trampled on, undervalued and discarded without a thought by an uncaring government who wants to try to convince you that they are the ones that should pay for the economy being in the shit.

Do I miss PCS? No. It is imploding and is not the union I joined all those years ago. I implore those who are left to fight hard to keep it going and to stop the fucking infighting and hubris that means it is on the brink of destruction.

You are better than this. You can be better than this.

Stop it now.

Do I hate my depression? No.

It's a part of me. I have learned to accept that.

I love you all. I am not even exaggerating when I say I could not do any of this without you. You are my strength, my heart, my passion and my all.

Thank you for my life.

Have a great rest of december and may 2015 be better for all of us.

Deeva xxx



















Sunday 14 December 2014

On Being Triggered (cw for ptsd symptoms)

Triggered. Its a word we are hearing a lot more of these days.

There are people who have adopted it to mean upset.

I wish you would stop.

To encourage you in this I thought I would describe what happens when I am triggered.

Be careful, this may well be triggering.

My chest hurts. I don't mean it aches, it physically HURTS. It feels like someone is thumping me in the chest with a medicine ball repeatedly.

I can't breathe. I mean, I know I am breathing but I can't feel it. It feels like I am simultaneously heavy and floating. And that hurts too.

I go deaf. I am detached from my sense of hearing as I detach from myself. All I can hear is the voice in my head that is telling me I'm going to die, I'm going to be killed.

I get flashbacks. Scenes of my trauma replay themselves in glorious technicolour. Sometimes with added smellovision and Entity style injuries.

And I live it again and again and again and again...

I become immobile. I get to a safer place (bed, a corner etc) and then I am physically unable to move. I am convinced that if I try I will die or be killed.

I cry. Rivers of silent tears.

I go numb. I shut down.

I sweat. Stinky, adrenaline ridden, fight or flight sweat.

The inside of my head screams.

I die. Or at least I think I do. Usually I've just passed out.

When I come to, then I lie there praying for sleep just so I can escape the flashbacks even though I don't believe in god and I know I will have nightmares.

I have PTSD. There are many like me and we're only now speaking out and sharing our stories.

If you're upset that is still valid. Just PLEASE don't invalidate us by saying you are triggered just because you were upset.

Thursday 11 December 2014

On Not Hating My Brain


Been chatting to my daughter person about ableism this morning and it has made me think about something.


This is purely personal as everyone has a different experience of mental illness.

What if I am not right to sometimes hate my brain?

Even more of a mind blowing thought.

What if my brain doesn't actually hate me?

What if my PTSD isn't my brain trying to fuck me over but it trying to protect me?

Maybe, all this time, I've been looking at it from the wrong perspective. Maybe when I am severely triggered and absolutely convinced that if I leave my bed I will die or be killed this isn't my brain trying to not let me have nice things. Maybe it is telling me to stop and try and process. Trying to keep me safe. To borrow an analogy from @graygender it is like a bodyguard shouting "GET DOWN MR PRESIDENT!" when it senses danger.

Maybe the Black Dog is not stalking me, but guarding me as much as it can to make sure that I remove myself from unhealthy situations and just, you know, stop. Just for a while.

Seems to me that my brain could be doing a better job to be honest. It gets it wrong a LOT. It cripples me just when I am about to do new things or am feeling happy and trusting.

But maybe, just maybe it isn't doing so out of maliciousness.

Maybe, just maybe, it is doing so out of some misguided attempt to keep me safe.

I don't have any answers for this yet but it is probably something I will revisit on here while I try to work it out. For me.