My Charity Run Challenge

On August 30 2022 I started my charity challenge run. 1000 miles in 12 months, what could go wrong?

Now I have plantar fasciitis – achy feet. It turns out when you run 100 miles in 8 months, you wear down your trainer soles a lot quicker than with walking, and then they do not protect your feet from the concrete.

The first month I ran a mile a day and my longest run was 9 miles. I went from struggling to run a mile to having so much stamina that I didn’t get tired until I had run 7 miles. My heart beat more efficiently, so I had to run further and faster to get the same health benefits, as my heart rate did not increase as much. My calves became more muscular so my leggings became tight and I had no problems with my weight, dropping a dress size.

I had bought the best pair of trail run trainers (off-road) and road running trainers that I could. I ran so much that I needed a new set of clothes for it while the others were waiting to be washed. I started out doing it properly – mixing in resistance training to keep my muscles strong and incorporating rest days for my muscles. I built up the mileage gradually.

By March I got lazy and my mileage dropped. Then in April, after a month of not doing anything, I was walking to work when I got achy shins, and then they ached for two weeks while I rested. After that, I went to see the coronation, eventually getting to see it on a screen in Hyde Park. We walked for over 12 miles trying to get past Buckingham Palace cordons to our hotel on the other side, in Westminster. Eventually I asked a policeman, who said that you couldn’t get past the palace on foot either in front or behind it, you could only get past it on the Tube.

I tried one run when I got back and that was fine, but my feet ached after it. My feet were sore after netball, and then, one day, I had to turn back after a mile. Then I couldn’t stand for hours in a museum without the aches and a new very mild stabbing pain. It had become chronic. I took ibuprofen, which then aggravated my IBS, but no pain no gain.

Why did I take on the challenge? Because I had to focus on a project after suffering an ectopic pregnancy in June 2022. Whilst the physical aspect of it was over fairly quickly, the psychological aspect took longer to heal from. All my brain knew was that I was pregnant and then I wasn’t, so it processed it as if a baby had died, rather than a bunch of cells disintegrating.

There was no support for the psychological impact from the NHS – you only get that after three miscarriages. This makes no sense, as I would probably be more prepared should it happen again. I had no idea what was happening with me and how it would progress, and NHS staff had no time to tell me either, one nurse did not know. For me, knowledge is power, and The Ectopic Pregnancy Trust gave me that, the power to understand what on earth was happening to me, and why.

So what have I learnt from my running challenge so far?

• Check the soles of your trainers and replace them when they wear down.
• Use a fitness tracker watch to easily track your miles/kilometres and heart rate.
• Get gait analysis if possible to work out whether your running style means you need a particular type of support in your trainers. Some running shops do this. You can also work out whether your foot rolls on impact by checking the soles of your trainers.
• Mix in resistance work (weights).
• Include rest days.
• Try and include most of your running on mud, grass or gravel. This has less impact on your muscles and bones than concrete or tarmac and means you will be less likely to get an injury.
• Ensure you have enough running outfits, and have cold and warm weather ones.
• Use a foam/plastic roller on your calves after your run. This helped me avoid injury.
• If you get an injury, rest until it is healed. You can keep your stamina up by doing non-impact exercise such as cycling or swimming.
• It is amazing for your mental and physical health.
• Build up the mileage slowly, it is ok to start small.
• See your GP if you experience any injuries or aches that do not resolve with rest.

I have experienced a better quality of life from doing more exercise.

Listen to your body and once the stamina kicks in you’ll enjoy it more.

Until then, enjoy the feeling after you run, the relaxation, contentment and sleeping better.

My ADHD Diagnosis Journey

I have always been different, no matter how hard I tried to fit in.

When I went on holiday with a friend to Vietnam and Cambodia, I realised something was interfering with the trip. For some reason I found it really hard to organise myself and to avoid forgetting things. What was wrong with me?

At 14 I had the maths age of an 11 year old and the verbal reasoning score of a 16 year old. Maths was boring, so I just didn’t pay attention and doodled or daydreamed instead. The educational psychology assessment meant that I did not have to do Design and Technology GCSE. Before I was exempt I nearly broke a sewing machine needle when I got distracted, and made muffins without dough (inedible) as I couldn’t follow the steps without getting distracted.

I tried to do a nursing degree, but it took me an extra week than it should have to learn leg bandaging, after seeing two different techniques. After this I was diagnosed with a “non-specific learning difficulty.”

I got distracted during the assessment by a noise in the waiting room, and felt maybe I hadn’t performed well because of that. I got withdrawn from the nursing degree as I was “not consistent and competent enough”. This was just after I had seen a disability assistant, who said that with strategies I could learn what I needed to. The Royal College of Nursing said I had suffered discrimination and were willing to take the case further, but I realised that I could not learn the practical skills and was unsure why. I was not stupid, so why had I been trailing behind my course mates? As my personal tutor had suggested I had autism, like her son, I went to the GP.

I got referred. Back in 2018, the NHS wait was a mere six months. It’s now four years.

The consultant psychologist asked me to tell her about my life for an hour. She then said “I wouldn’t worry, most of my patients with ADHD [Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder] struggle to have relationships and hold down a job, so you’re doing well.” She signposted me to a local support group. I apparently did not have ADHD badly enough for a diagnosis. I also did not have autism.

I went to the group, and for the first time, I sat in a room full of people where I felt I was on the same wavelength and I could understand them. We talked fast, we had lots of ideas, we were emotional, we were interesting. Here, for the first time, I fit in. They spoke of being let down by the NHS and their struggles firstly to get assessed and then to get medication and to get changes to this. They spoke of mistakes and failures in their lives that they felt had been caused directly or indirectly through ADHD, and they sought help in managing the chaos.

ADHD continued to affect me, but I did not do much research, as I reassured myself that the NHS had told me I did not have it badly. It was a spectrum and I was at the mild end of it, so I was fine. My boyfriend and friends disagreed. I had gone from my mum organising things for me and finding lost property to my boyfriend doing that. I was so frustrated – why couldn’t I do this like most of the people I knew? What was wrong with me, and what on earth could I do about it?

After some research, I realised that I had not been adequately assessed on my life before the age of 12. This meant that I could not have been diagnosed with it, as you had to have it before then. I asked the GP for a reassessment, explaining how it affected me on a daily basis. However, weeks later, they informed me that the reassessment request had been declined due to insufficient evidence of ADHD. I was so frustrated, upset and angry. So I just had to keep struggling? I was fed up of being distracted, emotional and forgetting things.

I could not afford a private assessment and I was lucky that my boyfriend could. He shelled out £1200 and within weeks I had an appointment with a psychiatrist. There were no private appointments in my city, so we had to travel to a city nearby.

Before the appointment, my mum and my boyfriend completed a questionnaire and I was asked to bring school reports. “Your boyfriend scored you 9/9” the psychiatrist explained, “and your mum scored you 4/9 for your childhood, which is one below the threshold for diagnosis. However, it is possible that your parents compensated for any difficulties during that time, and so they might not have been as noticeable. Have you brought your school reports?”. She read through every single one up to the age of 12, nodding and making notes.

“There’s enough here for me to score you 5/9 for your childhood”.

She then asked me about my life and how ADHD affected me. At the end of the appointment she confirmed that I had it, and I proudly announced it to my boyfriend in the waiting room. We had finally come to the end of the assessment journey.

I feel that I have been let down by the NHS and as a result I have had years more of difficulty due to a flawed assessment.

The BBC Panorama programme on ADHD has received 1800 complaints and counting. A reporter who was told by an NHS psychiatrist that he did not have it went to three private clinics, where he was assessed by a pharmacist, a trainee nurse with a supervisor, and a psychologist, who was more interested in playing with her hair. In my opinion only a psychiatrist should be able to diagnose patients. Unfortunately due to staffing, the NHS as well as private clinics have trained up psychologists, nurses and pharmacists to deliver the assessments, and from what I saw on the programme, they were not of good quality. The clinicians were asking leading questions. But the reporter was also answering as if he had ADHD.

I’m glad that I got assessed by a psychiatrist and that the process was thorough. I feel sorry for those who have shelled out and have been let down. I also feel bad for those who, like me, were let down by the NHS. I am also disappointed that patients are not offered CBT therapy for ADHD, to help them manage things such as emotional dysregulation. All diagnoses should come with support for patients to understand the condition, how it affects them, to come to terms with it, and to work out how to mitigate it. It is not simply enough to say right lets put you on medication.

The reporter’s programme and article was unbalanced – it only included how the private clinics had got it wrong. The NHS psychiatrist on the programme then wrote a more balanced article for The Guardian where he explained that many NHS patients had resorted to private assessments due to waiting lists, and that there were undoubtedly many sound diagnoses from the private system.

The problem is that the BBC article and programme discredited the private system to the effect that two family members and a friend have now suggested I don’t have it. What’s ironic is that they’ve all seen the impact it has on my life, and theirs, as they reunite me with items left at theirs, or put a “phone, keys, wallet” post-it on the door…

My First Pandemic

scientificanimations.com

If you want a break from continuous Covid-19, I have an article coming soon about my Philippines adventures. The photos and memories are an escape from the chaos.

The threat emerged in China. It was awful but far away.

“Don’t go” my aunt begged. But there were few cases in the Philippines. I was going via Singapore. People had spread it at their airport and a London airport shortly before I arrived back, but it was not a common event.

Someone on the plane has a fever.

A poster at a bus stop, beside a nurse who was coughing profusely.

We were hovering over Heathrow when cabin crew marched quickly up the plane, one wheeling a suitcase. There was a flurry of activity up the aisles and a curtain was yanked shut.

“Just to let you know, someone on the plane has a fever” announced the captain. There was stifled anxiety and a father was explaining the situation to his child.

We landed and a health visitor distributed forms. Unlike the cabin crew, reassuringly, he was not wearing a mask, just gloves. Waiting outside the plane a medical professional stood wide-eyed, wearing a hazmat outfit with a clear visor covering her face.

Days passed and I heard nothing, so I forgot about the pesky plague.

Then it came to Italy and coronavirus contaminated my newsfeed.

I’ve got a temperature.

My boyfriend had gone skiing in the North Italian Alps in February and there was a good offer for the Austrian mountains, in Tirol.

“Do you need another ski holiday?”

“It’s not for long” he replied.

I said goodbye on the 1st of March.

“I’ve got a temperature so I’ve come back from work early” the text read, on Wednesday 11th.

He phoned NHS111.

“You haven’t been to an affected area so you don’t need a test” they responded. No mention of infection control.

The first UK nationals returning with the virus had been on holiday to Europe. A friend who had dared to enjoy the Sagrada Familia and Sangria in Barcelona was now cuddling her cat in bed.

We never get ill. Not like this.

Worried, I text my boyfriend. “What are your symptoms?”

“Headache, aches, sore throat, cough and my chest feels tight”.

“You must isolate.”

“I’ll go back to work when I’m feeling better.”

Day 3:

“How are you?”

“Temp going up and down now. Woke up last night with the heat, had some really weird dreams. It’s strange how a fever affects you.”

On Saturday 14th March the panic started.

It was day 4 of my boyfriend’s fever but it was finally dropping. I wanted to be sure.

I desperately visited every shop in a five mile radius.

Boots nearby? sold out.

Boots in town? sold out.

Superdrug? sold out.

Argos? sold out.

John Lewis? didn’t sell them.

Online? sold out all over England.

This could have put his life in danger. Why were they so selfish? Why didn’t they have thermometers? Why didn’t we have thermometers?

Because we never get ill. Not like this.

The media started announcing a daily coronavirus count. There would be bulk-buying. But to my surprise it was business as usual in the pharmacy that morning. There was still a sense of calm. Everything was in stock apart from most of the paracetamol. I bought two lots of products to ease flu. One for me, one for my boyfriend.

A man in the queue turned and looked at my basket, whispered to his wife and walked to the side to wait for his prescription, staring at me nervously as I purchased the items.

“Is this just for you?” the retailer asked.

“No, it’s for someone else as well” I said smiling, as the shop went silent and people gawped.

I was in Waitrose looking for snacks. The bread shelf was empty. The flour shelf (to make bread) was nearly empty. The pasta shelf? empty. The soap shelf? empty. The medicine shelf? empty. The Vitamin C shelf? empty. The toilet roll shelf? empty. Why? “Well at least there’s still beer” someone joked.

A nurse was crying in her car after trying to get food. She has now come down with it too, possibly. My brother came back from an A and E shift in Wales to find his supermarket almost empty. My sister found the same in London.

I was going to see a friend that night when she messaged. “Sorry, I have discussed it and we don’t think it’s a good idea”, explaining that her boyfriend had asthma and sending a link to government advice on social distancing. I don’t know when I can visit her again.

Some people have had to make the heartbreaking decision not to see grandparents,parents, partners or even their own children.

Only £94 sick pay.

The Prime Minister’s announcement came on Sunday 15th. All those with symptoms were to isolate for seven days. My boyfriend now needed to stay home for another four days.

“Great, that’s only £94 sick pay.”

“Think of the vulnerable and older people you’ll be protecting.”

I went swimming with a friend and we went in the steam room, with no steam. I had not wanted to go in but there was only one other person.

My friend is a cancer survivor and had been told she was “medium” risk. She has now received a letter telling her she was one of the 1.5 million English nationals that could end up in hospital from the virus. She had been out on the town until midnight, should she worry about it? she asked. No, I replied. Better to go out now than at the peak of the epidemic in mid-April or May. I sent her a flowers and wine delivery with some of the last Merlot left in the city. Yesterday I won the last sour cream in my neighbourhood and last week I bought the last two packets of chicken in the supermarket. Yet I was frustrated one day when I forgot to buy the vegetables for dinner and couldn’t make another trip for a single cabbage.

Her colleagues got coronavirus taking blood.

I later read that the virus was easily spread in Chinese gyms. But again the source was not revealed, so could not be verified. Fake news and “medical” advice began to infect social media, including gargling with salt water for “protection” and holding your breath for ten seconds meant you had “virus-free” lungs. You could “wash the virus away from your lungs” by drinking tea and “kill the virus” by sunbathing.

I informed my friend that the “e-mail circulated in a hospital” was  actually government guidelines with a smattering of lunacy.

The only way to avoid contagion is to keep your distance and wash your hands.

But the public think that does not apply if you are outdoors, so now, as of Monday 23rd we are all on lockdown and gatherings of more than two people are banned. Countryside car parks are shut and the roads are almost empty, perfect for cycling. Meanwhile, our heroic key workers are keeping the country going, including my siblings. My sister worked on the “front line” for two weeks without adequate Personal Protective Equipment and four staff at her hospital tragically died. Her colleague got coronavirus taking blood with only gloves on, and survived.

My brother got infected from his girlfriend who worked on a coronavirus ward. Luckily they got off with a cough and fatigue.

From day 4 onwards my boyfriend started to get better.  His sore throat eased and he no longer had a temperature.

A week later, his only irritation was an inflamed nose and a reduced sense of smell. His housemates did not get infected as he kept his distance, wiping kitchen and bathroom surfaces after touching them.

The Guardian has recently reported that around 70% of infectious people have few or no symptoms. With that figure it is easy to understand why numbers are increasing rapidly. This is from a reputable source, a microbiology professor.

Help others more and read the news less.

Now, every time I get home I wash my hands and wipe down anything I have touched before that. I have even started spraying my shopping in case it has been touched by someone who has coughed coronavirus onto their hands. It is so unlikely, but why take that chance.

People suffering from anxiety have told me that the worry around them has made theirs worse.

The most effective way I have found of dealing with the apocalypse is to help others and to read the news less.

One useful story referred to Mutual Aid groups mobilising volunteers on social media. I joined one and bought some items for a local family.

Do you think she’ll get worse?

A family of four was isolating due to their daughter having a cough. She would give me money. I gave her my details for an online transfer instead. The money could have the virus on it. “I will stand three steps away” I replied.

There was the patter of little feet running to the door. A toddler peered up at me with bright eyes.

“She doesn’t seem to have a temperature” I remarked.

“No, she just has a cough” her mother replied.

“She probably doesn’t have it then” I said, hoping to reassure her.

“But children aren’t as badly affected are they.”

“Well no, that’s true.”

“Do you think she’ll get worse?” she asked.

“No, if she’s only got a cough she should be ok, and like you say, children aren’t as badly affected.”

“Will I get it?”

“I don’t know.”

“What if I get it? Will I get it worse?”

“Well have you got a good immune system?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have any underlying health conditions?”

“No.”

“You should be fine then.”

She thanked me and I left, assuring her that I’d message her if I needed anything. I delivered more bread and milk a few days later.

A board read “GO HOME, COUNTRYSIDE OUT OF BOUNDS.”

Last weekend we went on a walk with my boyfriend’s mother. As we expect that he is immune, we were not worried about him spreading it. He will not be able to see them now until the non-essential travel ban is lifted. Roadblocks have begun to spring up on local motorways.

A fast-tracked emergency bill is ensuring that new infection control laws can be enforced.

The beautiful Pigeon Tower above Upper Rivington Reservoir in Lancashire. Copyright literarylydi

I tried to keep my distance from in case I was asymptomatic (infectious but with no symptoms). We also tried to create some distance with groups walking past. It was only a problem if they coughed or sneezed the virus, but better safe than sorry. Irritatingly we ended up sandwiched in between groups of people and sharing narrow paths with them.

No one was willing to keep their distance. We wiped our hands before eating and at the car before we went home, as we had been touching gates.

That land is now shut.

On the way home in the Peak District, we saw a board that read

“GO HOME, COUNTRYSIDE OUT OF BOUNDS.”

The streets were nearly empty and older people were all inside, isolating for 3 months.

At least we don’t live in fear of nuclear attack.

But there were people sitting in parks, walking and cycling. I doubt we will see icecream vans for a long time, maybe not even in the warmer months.

I have been watching “Summer of Rockets” on the BBC recently and it has reminded me that things could be worse. At least we don’t live in fear of nuclear attack.

Audio poems are soothing, those who are creative can find comfort in the arts. Those who are practical are doing more D.I.Y, the drilling disturbing my work. But at least I could cook myself lunch and spend the rest of the break shooting hoops.

There are entertaining videos and memes doing the rounds. An unemployed sports commentator has done commentary for everyday events, such as the “South East halloumi-buying champions” frequenting Waitrose.

There was a video of the actor Antony Hopkins playing the piano with his cat on his lap.

Classic FM/Instagram / @AnthonyHopkins

I have also found it helpful to try not talking about it, to absorb yourself in escapist programmes and do what you can, instead of fretting about what you can’t.

No, we can’t go to schools, universities, gyms, pubs, clubs, cafes, clothes shops or restaurants (as of Saturday). We might not be able to see our family, friends or colleagues in person, maybe even our children.

But we can see them online, as long as the Internet withstands the increased demand.

We can do so many things in our homes or individually to entertain ourselves and exercise, so we must enjoy that.

Stay three steps away from others, don’t touch your eyes, nose or mouth and wash your hands when you get home.

The poem If by Rudyard Kipling is good to keep in mind: “if you can keep your head, when all about you. Are losing theirs[…]you’ll be a Man, my son”.

My favourite is Warning, by Jenny Joseph.

As they said in another war: “Keep calm and carry on.”

Thoughts on Chronic Illness

Recently a friend told me that she might have cancer.

Two lumps had appeared, one small, one big. The doctor immediately sent her for a biopsy. The cells were abnormal and treatment is needed.

The doctor was worried because she used to be a heavy smoker and overweight, two known risk factors.

She said the worse part was the torment of not knowing.

Once she has a diagnosis, she can plan, but for now she has to wait, thoughts churning around about the future.

We discussed how she could manage it and even speculated as to what the result might be. I tried to reassure her, but there isn’t much I can say or do, other than telling her that I will be there for her, no matter what. She was experiencing an emotional storm of frustration, anger, sorrow and fear. She is a strong woman both mentally and physically, but nothing can prepare you for the shock of being told you have a long-term illness.

My friend is courageously dealing with an uncertain future. She said that her illness had helped her gain more focus and she will now attack her bucket list with a renewed vigour.

In times of difficulty we need the courage to draw on our inner resources and access support networks. We may need to evaluate our perspective. In Buddhist philosophy, adversity is seen as the best teacher, a chance to learn from experience and emerge a stronger, wiser person.

So what have I learnt from the experience of my friends?

Firstly, the importance of living in the moment.

No one has a crystal ball. If we speculate about the future we only create fear and worry. This destabilises us and prevents us from being fully present to support friends in need. Everything is easier if we take a moment, slow down and just float on the river of life, wherever it takes us. Not accepting our reality is like trying to swim against the current; it wastes our energy and is futile.

Secondly, I need to be grateful.

We spend so much time focussing on what we do not have. We are constantly unhappy with the present and want more. We forget just how lucky we are. There is so much suffering in the world and, whilst we all experience peaks and troughs, somehow we escape the worst of it.

I would like you to take a moment to be grateful.

Be thankful for all the people in your life who guide and support you, your cheerleaders. Be thankful that you have mental and/or physical good health. But most of all, be thankful for the love and kindness of family and friends. Against all odds, love conquers all.

 

The Naked Rambler Revealed

Yesterday I watched a BBC documentary on Peter Gough’s latest activism. Released from HMP Edinburgh, he was walking over 425 miles to Eastleigh, Southampton, once again trying to persuade us that nudity equals freedom.

A decade of intolerance and imprisonment has not deterred Peter. He even had to be put in solitary confinement for his own safety. People seemed to find him hilarious, as I did or offensive, with one Scotsman saying it was inappropriate given the Jimmy Savile enquiry. I don’t really see the link myself. If people find it offensive why don’t they look away, rather than wasting taxpayers’ money reporting him to the police. Time and time again he was arrested and then released.

What is so awful about being in our natural state anyway? If anyone has the balls to do it in public and in British temperatures I say why not. He even walked in the snow without getting hypothermia.

The real reason the public find Peter so offensive is because he is being “deviant” – that is, subverting societal norms.

You could see he was on a collision course for disaster when he walked towards a primary school at closing time. The cameraman was getting more and more agitated, warning him of impending police action but Peter kept insisting “my compass says this is South so I’m going South”. Sure enough he was arrested, with charges mysteriously dropped after months of custody. I suspect Peter’s fan club paid them off. One of them, Augustus,  joined him part of the way with an improvised loin cloth. It was like a bizarre version of the Emperor’s Clothes.

He hadn’t seen his children for seven years. Personally I’d be mortified if that was my father. It’s embarrassing enough when he wears his multicoloured “clown” pants. He says he’s showing his love of Fauvism but it offends my sense of taste. Peter’s mum couldn’t understand his “cause” and even Peter himself was rather muddled about it, merely repeating the words “democracy” and “freedom”. When he finally got down to Eastleigh he was given an Anti Social Behaviour Order again for going to the dentists naked. I had wondered why his teeth were so bad. He breached the ASBO twice and is currently serving a 16 month sentence.

It was sad seeing the man he was before – an ex-marine and family man who took care of himself, to a nudist living on a family commune to now, almost the definition of a tramp with his scraggly wild beard and hair, his crooked teeth, a manic look and not an ounce of fat.

Apparently he was ordered to undergo psychiatric evaluation at a trial and no issues were found. His mental state was quite intriguing. Almost a thousand readers of an English newspaper agreed with a comment about him being mentally ill. The Scots seem more accepting however – Peter had no trouble on his latest stint there and comments on The Scotsman newspaper appeared largely supportive, with one reader daring him to do battle with the midges.

We can be naked at home, in changing rooms, in communal showers and even as a model in an art class but not anywhere else. It seems ridiculous that porn is accepted while naturism is seen as a cult. We’ve all seen it before, so what’s the big deal?

I do think it’s selfish to pursue the cause at the expense of seeing his children grow up. What do you think? Personally my only qualm is hygiene…

Rituals – what are yours?

Every evening if I have the time, I like to treat myself. It follows the same pattern each time. I’ll heat up a wheat bag to soothe my cyclist muscles, make myself a herbal tea, or hot chocolate if I’m not feeling full (to ensure I’m not hungry at night) and take off my makeup, sometimes put a face mask on and apply night cream while watching a drama or absorbing documentary on catch-up TV online. Then when that’s over I read a magazine/newspaper as I brush my teeth. 

These small things give me a great amount of satisfaction. It’s nice to have time out for yourself at the end of a day’s work and slowly wind down.

On Saturday mornings I also have a ritual. If it’s not raining I’ll go for a run. If it isn’t I meditate, for self-improvement and greater awareness. Then I’ll set about cleaning the house as much as I can before lunch. In this way I start the weekend feeling alive and happy.

What are your rituals?

How to Feel Whole Again

Isn’t it strange how when someone you love is gone you feel like you’re missing half your heart?

So it was when I lost someone dear to me, when relationships ended, when I was single and longed for someone to hold and now, with my boyfriend away on holiday these past few weeks – that feeling of being incomplete.

It’s something we all experience. I was watching my guilty pleasure, Don’t Tell The Bride, last night and the couple were devastated to be leaving each other for three weeks, even though they were doing it to get married. The groom-to-be is given £12,000 to plan his future wife’s wedding, with hilarious consequences. In every episode there are tears, sometimes from both of them as they part. Because when someone we cherish leaves us we think of the space that opens up instead of rejoicing at the time we had together/looking forward to our next meeting. But it does make us appreciate them more as we realise how much they do/did for us or what an effect they have/had on our lives.

The only thing that makes my heart feel whole is when I am helping a family friend who uses a wheelchair.  I can take the focus off myself. I can forget about the “I” and it makes me realise how selfish I am in daily life, always considering my needs before anyone else’s. This reminds me to try to see things through the eyes of others, to be more considerate and to listen. Sometimes you can tell if someone is a carer. It can rub off on their personality.

So if you’re struggling to cope with loss, help others and keep busy.  Spend time with friends. With them you may miss that special someone less, as you focus more on your current situation and surroundings. Missing someone is relating the space they leave behind, and in doing so you don’t stay in the present and you don’t think of others.

Pros and Cons of Unemployment

You’re probably wondering how there could possibly be any upsides to unemployment. But some of the negatives have a silver lining…

Negatives

1. Financial hardship

Most of us do not get much in benefits and every time you go shopping you have to be aware of your dwindling bank balance. You have to budget according to your reduced income.

2. Cold callers 

Thinking it’s that important interview call you rush to the phone, only to hear it’s some rude dimwit advertising something you have no interest in!

3. Daytime TV

4. Negative attitudes towards your job status 

Don’t listen to them though, it’s just ignorance.

5. Lack of company

Most people you know are working and you’re home alone noting down details of every job you’ve ever done and every qualification you’ve ever achieved.

Positives

1. You have more time

You may be busy filling in application forms and doing interviews, but in between you have time to enjoy yourself (albeit with free or cheap activities).

2. You can go to events during the week

I went to a lambing event yesterday, something I couldn’t have done if I was working. I saw piglets, I had a meerkat on my shoulder and saw a skink, armadillo and racoon for the first time! Unfortunately the 80 lambs were 4 days overdue and didn’t appear. We just saw a lot of grumpy sheep standing about, scoffing so much hay you weren’t sure which lump was baby and which was belly.

3. You learn/have to be more sensible with money 

As it runs out, you think of ingenious ways to save, such as living on tins and frozen food! You should minimise expenses or debt will be your enemy. You may start going to your grandparents for Second World War/post-war saving advice. In those days it was “waste not, want not”! We need to remember the wisdom of  previous generations facing harder times than we are in today.

4. You can enjoy the sunshine

I went for a run this week in the glorious sunshine under a bright blue sky and took in the scenery. Usually I’d be in an office during the week. You may miss the sun as you work, and when you get home you may be too tired to enjoy the fading light. Now you can enjoy daylight hours outdoors. You may have more energy to enjoy the day. You can get a good sleep with fewer early starts.

5. There is good support for Job seekers

Unlike other countries, we are lucky enough to have a welfare system. I have heard of free training courses which may help me find work. I have already made use of free interview training. People are generally understanding because they’re aware of the tough job market situation.

Turn the negatives into positives

Money is tight, but when we do have it,  we may be thrifty enough to start saving or spend more wisely. Maybe you do a training course and edge out the competition to get the job. Your dream job is still out there, there are just more people applying for it, so you have to stand out from the crowd (this does not mean wearing a pink suit to an interview). You may have had more interview practice than employed people going for the same job so you may perform better.

Of course we all want a job, but when we fall on hard times it’s best to make lemons into lemonade, rather than eating them and getting bitter.

Another blog writer suggests throwing the lemons you’ve received back at life!
“When life gives you lemons, make lemonade” is an expression meaning when life gives you negatives, turn them into positives.

Work Training Day

Today I woke up at 7.30. This hurt as I normally do not have anything to get up at the crack of dawn for. After a coffee to ressurect me from the undead I went out into the snow. The roads were clear, so I left half an hour for a 25 minute journey. Once again I had the misfortune of a driver who waited behind buses instead of overtaking them, meaning that a 25 minute trip took 40 minutes.

When I got to the company, to my surprise, the main receptionist was unaware of where the course was in the building. She asked for the teacher’s name and I did not have it. I showed her the text I had received reminding me of it. She told me and another course candidate to go to the first floor and turn left. He was a young man with a round face and black hair. I was in an ironed shirt and work trousers, while he sported baggy black jeans and an Ed Hardy t-shirt proclaiming “LOVE KILLS SLOWLY”.

“A woman joked “why don’t you just have them, nobody else wants them””

We stood in a queue for a while, and I wondered where the teaching room was, as I couldn’t see one. Finally we got to the desk and there was a lot of confusion over what we were here for and where we were supposed to be. I showed them the text but it still did not help.

While they were deliberating amongst themselves a lady joked “why don’t you just have them, no-body else wants them”. Exactly the sort of ignorance from someone who is fortunate enough never to have been unemployed.

Eventually we were directed to the right floor. We were greeted by a tall angry blonde. She was a curvy lady wearing glasses and a skin-tight black dress. “You’re late” she informed us, “I’m not sure if I can take you. I’ll just check.”

She came back and said that she had been given permission to let us in. It emerged later that we were a full three minutes later than the 15 minutes allowed. We explained that we had spent this time being sent to the wrong floor and she apologised.

I hadn’t been looking forward to the training session. I pictured dropouts lounging back on the chairs smelling of weed, tobacco or poor hygiene in line with the standard Jobcentre experience. To my surprise this wasn’t completely the case.

We went round the room introducing ourselves and giving some history. First off was a suited, 50-something man with glasses. Bob was a sales manager with plenty of experience in different areas. He told us he had faced a lot of age discrimination and he believed this was stopping him getting a job because interviewers just looked at him as being ripe for retirement.

Next was Bogale, a Politics and International Development graduate who had been a maths teacher in Kenya and was originally from Ethiopia. He had been in the UK for four months but his English was pretty good. He was interested in being a Teaching Assistant.

Abdul had dropped out of an accounting and finance degree because he was going to live in Turkey, but it didn’t work out. He was keen to work in a call centre. He had worked for five years in a variety of jobs. His family ran a cake business in Iraq. He had a short black beard and was shy but laid-back, wearing a woolly hat and casual clothes.

Shabeeb had been a forklift driver for two years until he had been fired. He wore a cap, a big grin and casual clothes. He spent most of the class asking when we could have a break/go home/whether he had to be there the next day as well. He had a great sense of humour and made us all laugh.

Jamie was the guy I came up with. He was on a part-time I.T course at university and was looking for administration work.

Miss Bradley had done work in I.T, admin and sales and was a DJ by night. She was slim with long dark curly hair and a ready smile. She had been forced to drop out of university due to a custody dispute with her “psychotic” ex-partner. It reminded me of my experience of working in family law.

Ms Begum was a full-time mum and had worked at a call centre for British Gas. She was looking to get back into work and had the right qualifications. She was keen to work in customer service. Everyone in the room except her and Bob were in their late 20s or early 30s. They were a pleasant, friendly bunch.

The teacher said that she would not “tret” us any different due to what we had done in the past, we were all the same in her eyes. She had a talk about “elf” and safety in the building. I felt bad for smiling at this when she told us how an employer had told her she had failed a Family Learning teacher interview due to her strong accent. She said she felt like suing them.

She also disclosed that she was a trained counsellor, and that she’d naturally done this all her life, without realising it.

She told us to beware of stress once we got work, as due to the recession their had been a sharp increase in hospital admissions. I remembered how stressed I was when I worked three jobs, seven days a week. Stress can creep up on you and accumulate if you don’t release it regularly. Mrs Begum said that when she was stressed at work she had no outlet for it, as when she went home she had the kids to deal with.

Make time to relax for 20 minutes before you go to bed each day. Think about your day and what stressed you out and whether there is anything you can do about it, in which case do an action plan. If there isn’t, let it go.

Stress happens when we’re caught in between fight and flight mode. If we are prepared and have action plans and lists to tick off, we know what we are doing when, and can relax more. This is how I could be responsible for all the medical files in a department. My day followed a certain structure and I had time deadlines for tasks. I’d always keep in mind the next item on the to-do list and work my way through it. That way I wasn’t running all over the place wondering what to do next.

As soon as I’d said I was an English language teacher I noticed Tibuk’s eyes light up. We had a chat and it turned out that in my last job I was teaching the very syllabus he needs to learn! I may be able to give him lessons to prepare him, although of course I will need to see if I can fit it around work when (note I said when, not if – Positive Mental Attitude) I get it.

The day was actually really useful, even though I got a First in Careers Development whilst doing my degree. I learnt that I am weak on the personal profile in the CV, and what to put in there.

She asked if anyone knew what CV stood for. Everyone looked like she’d spoken another language, which she had. I informed everyone it was curriculum vittae, was Latin, oh and by the way vittae meant life, so literally it was curriculum life, which didn’t seem to make sense. There was a stunned silence for a moment.

This week is full of training and interviews! After applying for 5-10 jobs every day for a month I have two to look forward to. One is for a graduate position. I just sent off an application pack for another one. I am also thinking about applying for the Royal Mail graduate programme. I will keep you posted!

Work Training Day 2

Today I discovered that criminal records were holding two of the members back. One for GBH, the other for breaking and entering. Both were misdemeanours of their youth which still count against them. One of them had a great sense of humour and we said that he should be a comedian because he made everyone laugh. It is a shame that their past could prevent them from moving forward with their lives.

Everyone in the group was easy to get on with. There was a supportive sense that we were in this together, although when I got an interview at lunchtime someone was a bit too keen on knowing what it was for! I once told someone about a job that I was applying for. She applied first and got it, so I’m more careful now.

Keep throwing yourself at the job market. The Jobcentre-referred course was great and I would recommend it to anyone. You think you know how to apply for a job, but it is not as simple as it seems. Every phrase can be read into, and it is all a carefully formulated plan. I am now going to re-do my CV, and I’m prepared for my interviews more thanks to plenty of practice.

Again I would recommend agencies – I have found getting an interview with them much easier and they are a foot in the door to permanent work.

I am encouraged by the course and am actually looking forward to interviews for the first time. It’s simply a matter of preparing yourself – getting the ID documents, dressing for success, preparing for competency-based questions (Explain how you dealt with a difficult situation) using the CAR/STAR method (if you don’t know what it is ask to go on the course!) and brushing up on the skills you’ll be tested on.

I’ve spammed the job market for a month and I’m only just starting to get results. It may take time but if you ensure that your CV and interview preparation and skills are in line with what is needed you will be fine.

Good luck fellow jobhunters! Keep on it!

Ecstasy? I’m high on life!

Shy FX doing his magic

On Friday I went to a drum and bass night.

The most popular reaction I have when I tell people I appreciate this genre is that I “don’t look like someone who likes d ‘n’b”. By this people mean that I’m not a hoodie-wearing law-breaking drug taker.

Unfortunately these events are dominated by illicit substance fans. It seems people are either addicted, feel peer-pressured, or claim that ecstasy helps them to appreciate the music, that sound turns into colour.

I have always appreciated the genre and have never needed anything extra to enjoy it. I sometimes went out with people who dosed-up beforehand. Most of them respected my choice not to mess with my internal wiring. One asked me why. I told him that I want to avoid the damage it causes, and he still did it. Takers will boast about its effects, but they rarely talk about how they were up  for two days or how they bit their tongue so badly it needed stitches. Like smokers, they seem to ignore its ill effects.

Then there’s alcohol, another misused substance, and a massive problem with my generation. When I was younger it was cool to drink in excess and then tell proud stories about what you or others did under the influence. You had a badge of respect if you’d manage to blag a beverage underage. At university there would be drinking competitions. In my halls the annual challenge involved running to the four corners of the main square and drinking as much as you could as fast as you could of different beers. Losers would start gagging and run off. The winner got their name on a silver plaque. People did “Centurions” where a group would drink all day aiming for 100 units. A member of my family tried it and “lost”  – luckily he threw up.

I’ve heard of a heavy drinkers who got cirrhosis – liver damage in their 20s. The government thinks they can help by raising taxes on it and imposing limits, but it’s the culture that needs to be addressed. With 10.5 million of us drinking to excess, alcohol misuse costs the NHS billions every year. It has been suggested that teenagers should be introduced to alcohol early on in small amounts, so that it’s not seen as something forbidden and therefore exciting. This was an attitude I encountered among drug users. I think if it was legal like it is in the Netherlands perhaps it would not be so popular or exciting, and could be better regulated. It was good that drug testing kits were available, just as needle exchanges are.

I wonder why Brits feel that we need alcohol and drugs to release ourselves and have a good night out. I was enjoying the beats on nothing but Red Bull. Everything in moderation though – I had 7 in a row once and ended up twitching as if I’d been electrocuted, and was wide awake until the sun came up. I never did it again, just as someone who knocked himself unconscious on a weed never did. Hopefully if we do overdose on a substance we know not to go back there. But sadly in a BBC series, Junior Doctors an A and E doctor told how regular users sometimes returned.

I took this – DJ Fresh in his home town of Leeds

I like the drama and atmosphere of drum and bass, its melodies interlaced with a beat I enjoy dancing to – it’s all about jumping to the snare! Its liveliness, energy and frivolity appeals to me. I like most aspects of a beats night. Most ravers are friendly and non-judgemental. You can dance however you like and plenty of people do.

It’s like no other music night and that is what keeps me coming back, other than the talent of the DJs. If you have ever tried beat-matching at that speed you may understand (beat-matching is where you get two records running at different speeds playing at the same time, one record in each ear). You have to be careful of flying elbows and people standing on your feet, and if someone’s had too much it’s best to stay away as they have very little control of their body. I’m also different from most ravers in that I always wear ear plugs, and wax ones. That way I hear the bass clearer and don’t get tinnitus, which a friend got after one too many club nights.

I took this listening to Andy C, widely regarded as one of the founders of drum and bass.

From a non-substance perspective, the dance floor was heaving with enthusiastic, bug eyed, love-sharing, sweaty swaying ravers. They probably didn’t know who was playing and perhaps they wouldn’t care.

I have been to raves since 2005 and this was the first time I had seen it. There I was bouncing away to Shy FX when there was a commotion next to me. A guy was on the floor. At first I thought he’d fallen over, until I saw the convulsions. He was white and his eyes were shut. I was looking for a bouncer when one came charging over. They put him in the recovery position. He was then carried off unconscious. A pill-head asked me what had happened. When I told him he yelled “there’s always some that take it too far”. I shouted “I don’t understand it, I don’t need drugs to have a good time”, and he looked at me like I was from another planet. To think that I could just go to enjoy the music seemed like an alien concept to him.

Again it’s the culture. Drugs seem on a level footing with alcohol now. They’re taken socially to enjoy the night.

Where is the line between social drug-taking and addiction? It’s similar to “social smoking” perhaps. But a smoker can laugh about the tar collecting in his/her lungs and say that life is short and that everything kills you in the end. An ecstasy user has made changes to their brain. Why do both feel so good? Because they’re altering chemical levels in the brain. Smokers become dependent on nicotine, the relaxant and ecstasy users to serotonin, a “happy” chemical. I’ve seen both smokers and ecstasy users being jumpy and twitchy in anticipation of their next fix. Ecstasy depletes serotonin meaning that users can suffer depression. Regular users are more likely to get it for longer.

The question is, what can we do to treat substance misuse problems in the UK?  We were all taught about the dangers of alcohol and drugs, but education is clearly not enough to impact on a culture which seems here to stay, and more prevalent than ever. A Leeds taxi driver told me he had seen a sharp increase in cocaine users in the past 5 years and that they were from all walks of life, from CEOs to students. He was shocked that people were taking this substance which electrocutes the brain as if it was normal. Cocaine is one of the most addictive drugs out causes permanent damage. It also alters personality. I once dated a guy who earned more money than he knew what to do with. His brother took coke so he thought he’d try it.

Before long he was going out to parties doing it every weekend, and became depressed and tired. When I asked him why he did it, and told him how damaging it was he said “yes but have you tried it”. I told him that as you can get addicted from two goes I wasn’t going to chance it. I prefer to live in reality.

I once saw a video on YouTube by a Buddhist monk where he said that the Westerners’ love of drink and drugs was because we were scratching an itch. They were temporary pleasures, in doing it people scratched the itch but it didn’t cure it, it just made it worse. He suggested that people need to look at why they need to take drugs/drink in the first place, what were they trying to escape from?

Trying to escape from a feeling or a thought means that it’s still there in our mind. The saying goes “turn the dogs of fear on fear itself”. When I worked in law a client took heroin partly to escape memories of her traumatic childhood. This caused her to lose her children and sucked her into an addiction spiral. Have the courage to solve your problems or move on, don’t try and deal with them by distraction.

But my point is this. Is a night of pleasure really worth the risk and damage, permanent or impermanent, to the body and mind?