And So The Healing Begins

Heyy, 

So last Tuesday was my birthday and whilst I did not mention this in last week's blog post, I thought that I would mention it now! Happy Birthday to me! It is always awkward when you have a birthday in the middle of the week. Everyone is working or have other commitments and dinner out was an expensive luxury to do twice. Instead I settled for my Birthday Eve when Mr. Warehouse and Miss Tweedle-Dee joined me to indulge in my favourite thing eating out and sushi. And although my best friend and boyfriend were not fully enjoying themselves - Miss Tweedle-Dee felt poorly and Mr. Warehouse was still unsure on the concept of raw fish - But I certainly wasn't and gorged on many dishes of salmon and sticky rice. 

Afterwards Mr. Warehouse, Miss Tweedle-Dee and I took an after dinner stroll and I was giving my birthday present from my bestie. Opening the different envelope they all contained information about a wonderful idea and something that was just otherworldly. With the run-up to Halloween coming quickly I am so excited for Autumn and Spookies to come, so with all of this in mind Miss Tweedle-Dee paid for us to both encounter the paranormal inside one of Britain's Most Haunted prisons - HMP Gloucester. 

The website states that HMP Gloucester has a long and chilling history with many of the executed criminals remain buried in the grounds of the prison. Some of the most infamous serial killers have been incarcerated within the walls of Gloucester Prison. The prison formally closed on 31 March 2013 but the suffering and torment is deeply etched within the fabric of this foreboding location. Originally built as the County Gaol in 1700s at a cost of £34,000 with a capacity of 350 prisoners each in separate cells, there were also separate cells for debtors of both sexes.Between 1792 and 1864 at least 102 executions took place using the considered more humane 'New Drop' style gallows with many of the executed being buried in unmarked graves where they still remain today. Join the team as we spend the night at the terrifying HMP Gloucester with the tormented souls that remain.

Miss Tweedle-Dee and I will start our overnight ghost hunt at HMP Gloucester in the afternoon of Saturday 20th October 2018 when my Besitie and I will drive, in her new car, down to Gloucestershire and check into the hotel to try and get some rest. Our experience will start at 9pm that night and will be sure to really test our nerve. An experience that we are sure will not forget and with suffering torment and death deeply etched into the very fabric of this imposing prison we may meet more than just the guide. Gloucester Prison was home to the notorious serial killer Fred West so during the night we might be in contact with him and all those who remain as Miss Tweedle-Dee and I join in carrying out seances, vigils and experiments in the most active areas of the imposing location. At 3am all is well as Miss Tweedle-Dee and I will return to the hotel, hopefully not possessed or contaminated by demonic spirits to sleep and the following day maybe some nice relaxing shopping ... Or maybe a trip to Church?!

One present that I did not expect to receive was an email in my inbox from a charitable organisation in the heart of Bedford called the Amicus Trust. In the email they detailed about how I had reached out to someone that could help me with my mental state and said that they were able to give me counselling sessions in order to work through my problems as quickly as possible so that life can get back on track. I am still on my medication but I  now feel quite pressured from loved ones to get things sorted and frankly it is becoming a little too much to bear. I know that people mean well and that in reality I am of the knowledge that I need to sort out these issues but first and foremost, I need to sort myself out.Trust me when I say that it is simply a long story that I may share with you another time.

Leaving the house with plenty of time on Friday morning just in case parking was a bitch, I was anxious as I always am at my first meeting with my current therapist. I found a parking space straight away and with that proceeded to scroll through my social media pages whilst I waited for an appropriate time when I would be able to walk through the doors without being too early. Locking my car and walking past many of the unscrupulous faces I saw on that Friday morning I realised that the the exact location of my therapy Sessions were actually in the heart of Bedford and area which is renowned for its poor reputation and well known for being a bad side of town. But with this in mind I thought that there would be no better place to have a charity or organisation such as the Amicus Trust.

Meeting the gentleman that I had been emailing for the last fortnight or so was interesting to say the least. He was extremely friendly and easy to get to know. Immediately I was relaxed and at ease with his company He offered me a cup of coffee which was nice as it was the morning and I have not eaten yet but it also helped in breaking the ice in what would otherwise be a rather emotionally fuelled situation. Sitting down at a large wooden table, the room was dimly lit and despite the large window next to the table being hidden by the blinds I could still hear the busy street outside. My Therapist was an larger framed gentleman maybe in his late fifties with long salt and pepper curly hair tied back in a ponytail. He wore a dusky purple corduroy shirt straight out of the 70s or 80s and with the skin tags littering his eyes and wrinkly face I knew that I can trust him. 

And so we began unravelling my tale. It is a complex and complicated one and something in which we only got to the bottom of this evening, however after the last two sessions I can safely say that things can be fixed and everything can be resolved one way or another. There are certainly a lot of issues that we need to work through and get to the bottom of but he assures me that it can all be mended. Its funny, walking out of my therapy session tonight has made me feel more positive and hopeful than I think I have felt in the last few months about my mental health and I am sure that I will work through it to get back to me again. It will be long and hard and difficult, but I'm ready!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

An Amicus Curiae

Hello, 

Sat waiting for my appointment at the doctors Saturday morning I was I was anxious to say the least about what the doctor's and medical professionals would say. After my most recent appointment with them they had advised to continue my medication whilst I awaited an appointment where I can be seen through the NHS for counselling but this seems to be harder than you would have initially thought. 

After a few counselling sessions earlier on in my treatment process, I was unable to continue with them due to the high cost of the sessions themselves. They certainly helped but at £70.00 for an hour long session it was certainly not something I could afford right now or keep up, although that being said I was and still am eternally grateful for the help received. During those early therapy sessions, I finally opened up to the realisation that maybe medication is just what I needed at that point and with that I went to the doctors in order to get a quick fix. 

I'm sad and almost ashamed to admit that my work was suffering  and with a House move in the works I couldn't loose this job. As my social life dwindled also because of everything that was going on, I had, stupidly really, tried for the last few months (because the weeks of cloudiness beforehand had now turned into months) to not succumb to the need for medication in order to treat my mental health issues. Truth be told is that I needed a fairly instant result in improving my mood and therefore my performance, both at and away from my desk. The tablets used to make me feel quite queasy and nauseous most of the time but I knew they were good for me and what I needed would come soon. I needed, still do really, therapy and counselling and I need to talk about it, not medicate it away.

I have spoken before about how I was shocked that the doctor handed them out so easily, asking me very little questions about what is going on in my life to make me feel like this and how I am feeling. Unlike before there were no silly questionnaire about how depressed I am or the likeliness that I might top myself on a scale of one to ten.Every other time I have been to the doctors (not that there have been many, gosh makes me sound like a right nut case, but there have been a few occasions) there has always been a lengthy conversation about how I feel and how I have become to feel this way. Strangely I feel as though there should have been at least a little bit more push and pull. Then again maybe it was obvious and looking at my medical history it seemed the best thing for me. Initially when I went to the doctors in May of this year I was told that I will be placed on a waiting list for free counselling through the NHS and was told it would be roughly a three-month time slot from when I was referred. 

Obviously I continued with my therapy sessions and when they came to an end I went back to the doctor in order to have a check-up generally on the medication that I was on and it just so happened that it was coming up close to the three-month mark in July. I was told that it would probably be better if I went to speak to the Bedfordshire Well-Being team which were based outside of the doctors surgery and whilst part of the NHS were a different entity that could help. It was here that I learnt that it can be anywhere between eighteen-months and two-years. Certainly not the three-month time slot I was given when I first started back in April / May. 

After a meeting with a lady at the Bedfordshire Well-Being team, it was suggested by several mental health practitioners that I undertake what I thought was going to be a group therapy counselling session lasting 5 weeks. I thought that we all walk into the room sit down in a circle and say "Hi, my name is blah blah blah and I have a problem with abandonment issues particularly to do with my parents". Unfortunately this was far from the case and in actual fact it was a rather patronising lesson in what depression is and how it will make you feel. 
"No surprised that I have found it completely unhelpful as I am here because I have relapsed" I thought during my first two sessions. I am already my own well-being expert. I know the issues I have and ways I can slip back under the darkness. I already know how it feels to be depressed and I know what I need to do in order to get out. As narcissistic as it sounds I know what I am on about as I am already, at the grand old age of nearly 27, an expert of my own mental health issues.  

It was at this point that I spoke with the doctor and she confirmed that it would not be wise to stop medication and advised that in most circumstances medication is taken for a minimum of six-months, however with everything still quite unstable in my life in terms of my housing situation as well as my issues with family members, by the time the six-month anniversary comes around in October I probably will not be cured. I know that this is something I need to continue in order to build up it's effect, regardless of how I felt much better. I know that coupled with counselling and therapy I will get better it will just maybe take a little bit longer. 

Struggling I took the decision after talking with the Bedfordshire Well-Being team and several of the staff there I ended the patronising group lessons and have since then been in vainly trying to find anywhere locally that will be able to see me at such a short period of time that are not grossly expensive is almost nigh on Impossible. After a long sit in the doctors waiting room last Saturday morning, I saw the doctor (a different one every time I have been I must admit) I expressed my concerns to the them who promptly told me that it was a difficult position to be in for everyone involved. On the one hand going to my GP and seeking medical attention for my mental health was and continually is a great step in making myself better. As a result of that directly I have been put on medication to treat and improve my "chemical mood", something in which I feel is benefiting me greatly. Whilst awaiting it be one-to-one counselling via the NHS, there is very little that anyone can actually offer that will be of any use or help. 

Whilst I appreciate that the NHS in England is definitely under a huge strain, it is fundamentally wrong and critically important to increase the waiting times to a better standard.The thing is, if I broke my leg on the other hand they would try to operate as soon as immediately possible, having me in and out of that specific treatment quickly and efficiently so as to move on to the next patient. And yet for mental health it appears as though there is a lack of understanding in terms of how life threatening and dangerous it is for patients to wait to seek treatment. As with a broken leg mental health can become infected very quickly and easily causing more and more damage, and yet despite all of this the waiting list in the UK, at least for England anyway, is minimum of eighteen months and two years. 

Whilst the medicine I am on made me feel queasy and nauseous in the beginning, that has now subsided and I am now left feeling quite positive and happy in myself and my life generally although this doesn't stop the pressure that I feel from loved ones and frankly it is becoming a little too much to bear sometimes. I know that people mean well and that in reality I am of the knowledge that I need to sort out these issues but first and foremost, I need to sort myself out. Trust me when I say that it is simply a long story that I may share with you another time, but for the meantime I am doing as well as can be and battling it through to make the best out of what I have. I have been in touch recently with a couple of charities local to Bedford, one of them called the Amicus Trust which have said that they are able to give me some help with free counselling sessions in order to work through my problems as quickly as possible so that life can get back on track. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Bank Holidays, BBQ's and GoodByes!

Heyy, 

After a few Hiccups along the way, I have reinstating my routine of popping my meds every morning and my mood this past week has improved, if only ever so slightly. I suppose that that is to be expected when your bestest friend in the whole wide world is leaving for America. 

The last blurry few months have been a bit of a whirlwind of life events and I am hoping that it is coming to an end, although in reality I know deep down I am just teetering on the edge of another drop. I feel, more so at the moment with the imminent departure of my best friend, that whilst I have crossed many a Ravine in the last few months emotionally, I am on the knife edge of what could potentially be another fall and just a small gust is all it would take to tip me over the edge. That scares me. I think it is slowly settling in, this weekend especially when Mrs Tweedle-Dumb's parents threw a goodbye BBQ in her honor and in Great British style the bank holiday weekend was a bit of a washout, blowing away the gazebos and generally wreaking havoc on the garden. Laughing along together and giggling about our inside jokes no one else got, I realised that this would be the last time we had together. In less than a few days I would be loosing an incredible friendship with Mrs Tweedle-Dumb and whilst I have some amazing people around me, nothing will ever replace my first ever best friend. I feel ashamed and guilty of my selfish thoughts when I think about Mrs Tweedle-Dumb moving away with her new hubby, partly because I would not have given a flying fuck about who was left behind or what they were feeling - I would have been long gone. And I want her to do the same because Miss Tweedle-Dee and I will be OK back here because the fun that we will all have trying to successfully achieve a (three-way) Skype session or FaceTime. And to think of all the fun Miss Tweedle- Dee and I will have sending parcels to remind Mrs Tweedle-Dumb of home including goodies such as tea and HobNobs. And to think of the absolute excitement in receiving a parcel all the way from Mrs Tweedle-Dumb and her all American home, filled with exotic candy and chocolate, not to mention all of the goods that are way too expensive in the UK! Reasonably price UGGs and other designer goods? Yes please! I'm having palpitations just thinking about all of the spooky decorations and goods she could send me from the home of Halloween! Atop of that the incredible holibobs and excuses to fly out to be reunited. All of this I need to keep in mind when I think about how sad I will be when she has left. 

Speaking of sadness, following my most recent appointment with the doctor, they had advised to continue also with counselling sessions and therapy as it had temporarily been put on hold as I had finished my previous sessions and now awaiting a appointment where I can be seen through the NHS however after being told it can be anywhere between eighteen months and two years, I am starting to consider if I need to go Privately to seek help. Certainly not the three-month time slot I was given when I first started. Whilst I appreciate that the NHS in England is definitely under a huge strain at the moment and that the doctors and nurses are doing their jobs to the best of their ability despite the cuts loss of funding they have experienced in the industry over the year's, I still think that it is fundamentally wrong and critically important to increase the waiting times to a better standard. Not that I am, but should I become suicidal at any point I would still potentially be waiting for treatment. The thing is, if I broke my leg on the other hand they would try to operate as soon as immediately possible, having me in and out of that specific treatment quickly and efficiently so as to move on to the next patient. And yet for mental health it appears as though there is a lack of understanding in terms of how life threatening and dangerous it is for patients to wait to seek treatment. As with a broken leg mental health can become infected very quickly and easily causing more and more damage, and yet despite all of this the waiting list in the UK, at least for England anyway, is minimum of eighteen months and two years. 

To think where I will be in eighteen months and two years is a scary thought. We should be very comfy in our new home and Mrs Tweedle-Dumb and her Hubby would have visited at least once or twice to our new abode. But with the house slowly coming to an end (I hope) we finally had the Mortgage company confirm his findings from the survey visit last week and has now handed over our damned Mortgage Offer. I am upbeat and positive but I am slowly getting itchy and frustrated with not being able to move in yet. Still no move date as yet but following the receipt of our Mortgage Offer we should hear back this week with a date for our completion and exchange. Yet with Mr and Mrs Tweedle-Dumb's big move to America approaching fast, I am ever more doubtful that Mr. Warehouse and I will be in our new home by the time they leave. Whilst I am looking forward to sending my best friend off to a whole new world and life in sunny L.A, I just sometimes feel sad about it all. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Forgetting and Falling!

Evening All, 

With the last few weeks and maybe a month or so looking and feeling brighter, I feel as though I have been lured into a false sense of security with my medication. Today and even maybe over the weekend where I stayed with Miss Tweedle-Dee whilst she house / puppy sat for her brother, I haven't been feeling sadder than usual and in a generally low mood. Several times today during what was a trying day at work (probably made worse by my lack of concentration and focus), I had noticed that I was on the brink of tears and to think that I had only missed two days worth of tablets. I could definitely tell that my focus and concentration had shifted at my desk not to anything in particular but just simply off the task in hand. I know I need to block everything out as best I can and try harder with what matters. Previously I had tried to muddle through the cloudiness, not to not succumbing to the need for medication in order to treat my mental health issues but truth be told is that I still need them as much today as I did weeks ago. 

This evening I also had a doctor's appointment in order to discuss my ongoing medication and going forward with my diagnosis. Whilst the medicine I am on made me feel queasy and nauseous in the beginning, that has now subsided and I am now left feeling quite positive and happy in myself and my life generally. Well that was until I forgot to take my meds yesterday and today. I didn't plan to it was just a simple fact of forgetting to take them and being outside of a normal routine. 

I spoke with the doctor and she confirmed that it would not be wise to stop medication and advised that in most circumstances medication is taken for a minimum of six-months, however with everything still quite unstable in my life in terms of my housing situation as well as my issues with family members, by the time the six-month anniversary comes around in October I probably will not be cured. I know that this is something I need to continue in order to build up it's effect, regardless of how I feel much better. I know that coupled with counselling and therapy I will get better it will just maybe take a little bit longer. Speaking of which, the doctor had advised to continue also with counselling sessions and therapy as it had temporarily been put on hold as I had finished my previous sessions and now awaiting a appointment where I can be seen through the NHS. 

After months of being in a bit of a whirlwind of emotions and life events, I am hoping that it is coming to an end, although I know deep down it is not. With Mr and Mrs Tweedle-Dee's big move to America coming soon in the first week of September and hopefully our house move before then I can only imagine that things will probably get worse not better. I know that this is a happy time where we should be excited about finally getting a home of our own and looking forward to putting our own stamp on the place. With the house seemingly moving along nicely and with the solicitors now finishing up their searches and the surveyor from the Mortgage Lender going in today,, I am feeling more positive than ever. There is no move date as yet so don't grab your red cups and vodka for the house party just yet. Following the survey on the house today to make sure that the house is worth the amount of money we are borrowing against it, hopefully we should hear back in the next couple of days with our mortgage offer and fingers crossed a date for our completion and exchange. I am almost certain after talking to different people at work and through other groups of friends that the process will speed along and hopefully still be set to move in before Mr and Mrs Tweedle-Dee depart. 

Whilst I am looking forward to sending my best friend off to a whole new world and life in sunny L.A, but sometimes I just feel sad about it all. I think it finally hit me (again) this weekend that I be loosing an incredible friendship with Mrs Tweedle-Dumb and whilst I have some amazing people around me, in particular Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Hackney and Miss SugarCoat nothing will ever replace my first ever best friend. I feel ashamed and selfish when I think about Mrs Tweedle-Dumb moving away with her new hubby, partly because I know the fun that we will all have trying to Skype and FaceTime each other (and not to forget the incredible holibobs), but more so because I would not have given a flying fuck about who was left behind or what they were feeling - I would have been long gone! And I want her to do the same because we will be OK back here because sitting on the reclining sofa across from Miss Tweedle-Dee she and I both knew how hard it might be but that despite it all our friendship would be OK. She knows better than anyone I think that sometimes its not even saying anything at all its just sitting and being there to be extra company other than your own thoughts. Sometimes that is just enough. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Boiling Blood and Melting Hearts!

Heyy, 

Booking some much needed time away from my desk and off work was certainly what the doctor ordered. With the last few months being a bit of a whirlwind in terms of emotions and life events and as suggested by several people including Miss Hackney and Miss Sugarcoat, I decided a couple of days off for rest and recuperation to relax has been beneficial. 

I did have a few things planned and on Wednesday I booked to get my hair done, but alas a relaxing afternoon in the hairdressers chair was postponed due to the fact of my hairdresser being poorly. As frustrating as that was it was annoying even more so as it was slap bang in the middle of the day at two in the afternoon and after it was cancelled with only half an hour to spare or so there was not much else I could do with my day. I suppose if I was a little bit more organised with my time then I could have found someone that would be able to do me a new 'do however I decided not to and just rebooked for a couple of weeks time. Here's hoping that none of my colleagues have the 7th of August off fingers crossed. 

Along with a nice long lye-in and some more crap daytime TV, Thursday started with going to my usual counselling sessions and therapy, although this week was the first of the NHS Treatments. The meeting itself was quite matter-of-fact and went through the different kinds of therapies the government in the UK now offers. Everything from group therapy sessions to CBT as well as one-to-one counselling and therapy however the waiting list is extremely long. It was suggested that the group therapy sessions would be better for myself although the two hour-long sessions either in the morning or an afternoon on a weekday may not be possible with my work schedule at the moment. I also question as to whether I would reap the benefits with up to ten people in a group. I suppose that it is just one of those things I will have to try and see if it works or not, and on the plus side I get to hear about other people's sob stories which will ultimately make me feel better about myself as harsh as that sounds. 

In the afternoon I had a doctor's appointment to discuss my ongoing medication and going forward with treating my depression. As expected the doctor has suggested that I continue with my medication at least for another month or so with a a check up in a month or so. Whilst the medicine I am on has finally stopped making me feel queasy and nauseous and regardless of how I feel much better and more back to normal, I know that coupled with counselling and therapy I will need to continue my treatment with pills, at least for the short-term. 

As Friday soon rolled around, I was really looking forward mine and Mr Warehouse's to a spa day in London, courtesy in part to Nanny Pumpkin's Christmas present to us both. After using the voucher back in April when Mr. Warehouse and I went for our aweful spa day and afternoon tea (which was OK actually) hosted by the Loch-Stress Monster, I complained and the company who sold us the voucher agreed to offer a return visit to a selected spa of our choice. Booking it in last week, Mr Warehouse and I were excited to be spending some quality time together with what we expected to be a gorgeous fruit platter, welcome drinks and some relaxing treatments. Arriving at the spa in London's busy Soho District it was a bit of a palaver to try and find parking and get the tubes through to where we needed to be. By the time we arrived it was only moments before our first treatments which meant that we did not have enough time to explore the spa or indulge in some of the areas as listed on the website such as the ice cave, sauna, steam room, pool or relaxation area. In fact we didn't even have enough time to get anything to eat beforehand and since it was nearly lunchtime we were both famished. But it didn't matter too much since we had a lovely fruit platter and welcome drinks to look forward to ... Right?

Wrong! As we approached the spa reception in order to check in for our treatments, dressed only in our swimwear and flip-flops, my thoughts drifted to what sort of delights would be on our fruit platter and welcome drinks. A young woman in her mid-twenties checked us in and took our voucher code from us. On asking politely for our fruit platter and welcome drinks to be brought to us in the relaxation area, I was promptly told that the fruit platter and welcome drinks package were no longer offered and had been this way for about a year or so. This baffled me slightly as I had only booked spa day a week ago and already had a few email confirmations from another lady on site that clarified our treatments times as well as that elusive fruit platter and welcome drink. Seemingly not bothered at all the young girl called through to the top reception and spoke to the lady I had been emailing to clarify on the fruit platter and welcome drinks we were advertised when booking. In between the young girl holding the phone away from her ear and then putting it back again I thought about how I calling the customer service in this establishment is especially for Central London and what from the advertising of products and treatments did not seem to be a cheap place to spend your time. As the spa receptionist ended her phone call with the lady one floor up she explained again how the package was no longer offered and therefore would not be something if they would be able to accommodate despite priding itself on being in a central Westminster location with a prestigious postcode and a Tesco's only a moments walk away with all the fruit you could ever think of being on a fruit platter. I am almost certain that if even that was a stretch, that maybe a cup of tea or coffee would have sufficed but even this seemed to be a step too far and something that was not offered to us despite explaining the fact that we had not eaten anything in anticipation for the delicious package. 

Thus so far our spa day was shaping up to be a bit of a non-starter and considering this was a effort by the voucher company to restore faith in their products and services it certainly was not going well. Up until that moment, no one had showed us around the spa or what facilities they had so I asked if this would be possible. The young girl just simply sat behind her reception desk and added to the already lacking customer service by pointing to the different areas that we would be able to use. Walking around ourselves, Mr Warehouse and I explored the areas including the sauna, steam room, showers and relaxation area. I was extremely disappointed to learn that along with the fruit platter and welcome drinks the ice cave did not exist. There was little enjoyment to be found in the pool as there were several swimming lessons / classes going on and the rest of the pool dedicated to medium or fast swimmer lanes, something of which myself and Mr Warehouse were not told at the time of booking our spa day or indeed when we arrived. 

Frustrated and disappointed entirely we headed back to the relaxation area in order to try and unwind before our treatments. Whilst the spa was extremely clean and well kept there was a lack of facilities that were advertised on the website had been a major let down and combined with the fact that the relaxation area was centred right by the reception desk and the changing facilities made for a less than relaxing time with the constant noise of dryers, showers which wasn't ideal. Now I understand that a spa or similar type environments will need changing facilities, dryers and showers which generate noise, the presence of a cleaner hoovering and what can only be described as workmen either drilling or hammering something in an area down the corridor only disrupted us further. 

Even as Mr Warehouse and I attempted to get some peace and quiet, the clicking of the receptionist mouse could still be heard loud and clear, something which only reminded me of my own daily grind sitting behind a desk which hindered my ability to try and relax. I don't know, maybe it is just me but I simply cannot understand why you would have a "relaxation" area located somewhere that can still be polluted with noises from the daily coming and goings of what can only at this point be described more as a leisure centre than a spa facility. 

Quite frankly I just wanted to get changed and leave as what had planned to be a relaxing and enjoyable day together spending some quality time was certainly not what it cracked up to be. As I was called in for my back, neck and shoulder massage plus a full body exfoliation, I wasn't expecting much although I must admit that the treatments themselves were wonderful and helped to take my mind off of things - That was until I came out of the treatment room only to find out that my 55 minute combination of treatments had actually only taken less than 40 minutes, again leaving me deflated and upset with the level of service I have received. Mr Warehouse however did say that his treatments were lovely and that the lady had even taking extra care due to Mr warehouses skin condition, also gave him advice about his pedicure treatment and elaborating on how he can keep his feet in the best possible condition with similar and more regular treatments. 

As frustrating and disappointing as our spa day was, it was meant to be a happy time where we could relax and recuperate together, getting excited about finally getting a home of our own. I think that Mr Warehouse would join me in saying that the last few months life has been a poisonous melting pot of my mental health issues, Mr. Warehouse's own health worries mixed together with a good helping of work dilemmas, family problems and the stress of buying a house. 

Leaving thus far almost immediately after Mr Warehouse had finished his treatments, we headed to Battersea Dogs and Cats Home in order to say hello to some of the unfortunate friends of the charity. Wandering around and looking at all the doggies in their little cages made us so sad that we just wanted to take all of them home. I was quite surprised to see a good few greyhounds as I expected there to be more staffies and bull-type breed dogs. It turns out after talking to members of staff working there that the greyhounds had outlived their Racing days and therefore were cast aside due to no longer being able to compete. There were also a couple of smaller dogs which took my fancy including a German Spitz called Teddy, a cute Patterdale Jack Russell who was rather barky and a gorgeous Alaskan Malamute called Damien. Although sadly after having a conversation with one of the adoption ladies, we were told that the likelihood of getting a puppy would be slim to none as we work during the day and would need to be home in order to take care of it. I think for me at least, the fact that my puppy or new friend would be neutered is a bit of a sore subject as I would want a boy dog that I may or may not want to stud from in the future. I think that it is for this reason that I would probably more so get a dog from a registered breeder rather than a re-homing centre such as Battersea. Obviously with a few weeks left to go before we hopefully (fingers crossed) move house, getting a puppy or even a adult dog is certainly far from my priority list.

Suffice to say that I have enjoyed the time away from my desk and the constant ringing telephone with customers, however with that being said I am definitely glad to be back to work today and into the normal swing of things and a routine I am familiar with. That been said I better get a shifty on as I am due to be meeting Miss Tweedle-Dee for some sushi and a catch-up in an hour - No rest for the wicked 'eh?!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Difficult Roads Often Lead To Beautiful Destinations

Suup, 

I never thought that I would have festival blues like I did at Reading Festival back in 2014, oh boy do I have a big come down from the glitter and frolics of a festival atmosphere. Truth be told I didn't think that I would have enjoyed myself or looked forward to the Bedford River Festival as much as I did. Maybe it was the drib's and drabs of family and friends throughout the weekends festivities that made it as good as it was, or maybe it was just simply down to the fact that I felt much better than I have done in the last few months. I suppose that the reality is that next time the Bedford River Festival comes around we will be living in our new home and who knows what life might be like then. although I am sure that there will still be a place for some glitter and denim shorts to enjoy the drumming music, incredible smelling food and host of activities and things to do and see. 

With the last few months being a bit of a whirlwind in terms of emotions and life events, I decided a couple of weeks ago that I would book a few days off at the end of the month after payday in order to have a little bit of me time for rest and recuperation. Suggested by several of my friends including Miss Hackney and Miss Sugarcoat who I have met up with a few times over the last couple of weeks, I think a few days to relax and take time for myself will be beneficial and can only do me some good. I have a few things planned such as some nice lye-in's and watching telly. On Wednesday I will be getting my hair done which maybe doesn't seem like such a big deal but for me a relaxing afternoon in the hairdressers chair is just what I need. Maybe afterwards I might take a trip over to one of the retail outlets a few miles out of town in order for some retail therapy and a treat or two.

Thursday's plans will consist of going to my usual counselling sessions and therapy, however this week will be the first of the NHS Treatments. In the afternoon I also have a doctor's appointment in order to discuss my ongoing medication and going forward with my diagnosis. Whilst the medicine I am on has finally stopped making me feel queasy and nauseous, I haven't stopped taking them as I know that this is something I need to continue in order to build up it's effect, regardless of how I feel much better and more back to normal. I know that coupled with counselling and therapy I will get better it will just maybe take a little bit longer. 

Friday is what I am really looking forward to as I will be accompanying Mr Warehouse to a spa in London. Courtesy in part to Nanny Pumpkin's Christmas present to Mr Warehouse and I we will be enjoying a gorgeous fruit platter as well as some relaxing treatments. I think just simply having some time just for us will be nice as I think life just takes over and before you know it it has been weeks since you have spent time with each other. 

I know after spending Sunday afternoon in the sunshine with two of my favourite people, Nanny Pumpkin and Mr Warehouse, I realise the heartbreaking reality that whilst my Grandma is doing her own thing and thoroughly enjoying life skipping off here, there and everywhere, I know in reality by the amount of times my grandfather was mentioned that she does miss him. Listening to Miss Hackney and Miss Sugarcoat their own grandparents and how their lives have been affected since one of them had passed away made me want to spend time, and quality time at that with Mr Warehouse whilst we have the chance to do so before mortgages and family life takes over. 

This is a happy time where we should be excited about finally getting a home of our own and looking forward to putting our own stamp on the place, although I think Mr Warehouse would agree with me when we both say that life has not been the easiest for us at the moment. It has been a poisonous melting pot of complicated issues including my mental health, Mr. Warehouse's skin condition and his own health worries all mixed together with a good helping of work issues and family problems, sprinkled with the stress of buying a house and preparing to move home. When the Devil on my shoulder tells me that it is going to be very expensive and makes me question as to whether Mr Warehouse and I can afford it, I must remember all of the other times that I thought or wondered how I would ever afford what I wanted in life. I am sure that I will look back a year from now and wonder as to what exactly I spent my money on. 

It terrifies me to think that I will have to depend on someone else both financially and in the general upkeep and running of the house in Mr Warehouse. To say that things have been tense or highly strung has been a understatement and I would say Mr Warehouse and I have argued more than we have ever in the last few months than we ever have in the last three and a half years we have been dating. But for all the snippy comments or playful bickering that happens between us I cannot fault Mr Warehouse for his support and love over the last few months, holding me up high when I was down in my lowest points and making me feel so loved and wanted it's unreal. I don't think that there is literally anything that his arms couldn't cuddle away and I know that whatever life throws at us I will be able to deal with it just as long as I have him by my side, wiping away the tears and making things better for as long as we have ... 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Glitter Makes Everything Better (Unless Its Gary)

Heyy everyone, 

Donning some glitter and denim shorts I was looking forward to the hotly anticipated Bedford River Festival this weekend and with the music drumming, food smelling incredible and host of friendly and familiar faces along the way, this weekends antics have certainly put a smile on my face. Following what has been a very difficult and stressful few months for me, I honestly feel the best that I think I have felt in a very long time. Now whether this is because my work life is a lot better or maybe it's the medication for my depression that has kicked in, I am just glad to say that life seems to be getting brighter again. I suppose when I really try and put my finger on it, my improvement in mood comes down to the fact that nothing major has really happened to improved it apart from my medication. 

Whilst the medicine I am on has finally stopped making me feel queasy and nauseous (something that only ever seem to happen in the morning before lunch which made me paranoid that I may be pregnant) I know it would be silly for me to simply stop taking them all together as I know that this is something I need to continue in order to build up it's effect, coupled with counselling and therapy of course. I just needed something - anything- to take the edge off and make it all seem a little less sharper. I have sometimes questioned as to whether I am suffering a placebo effect from just simply popping some pills every morning along with a Hayfever tablet, but as some of you may know I had tried to muddle through the cloudiness and not succumb to the need for medication for some time. I know that therapy and counselling is helping make a difference and battling my demons, but I also need to look forward and celebrate my future. 

This is a time where I should be happy and excited about finally getting the home I have always dreamt of, well at least in part. With the house seemingly moving along nicely and with the solicitors now instructed and doing their thing with searches and the likes, I am feeling more positive than ever. There is no move date as yet so don't grab your red cups and vodka for the house party just yet. I am almost certain after talking to different people at work and through other groups of friends that the process will quicken pace and before I know it the contract will be with us ready to sign on the dotted line. 

Does it makes me nervous about getting a house? Yes, of course it does! However I have to put everything into perspective and when the Devil on my shoulder tells me that it is going to be very expensive and makes me question as to whether Mr Warehouse and I can afford it, I must remember all of the other times that I thought or wondered how I would ever afford what I wanted in life. I look back even now over the last couple of years before I had Vivienne (my car) and I question as to what exactly I spent my money on as I didn't have much to show for it. Before I moved into my bachelor pad upstairs in the block that I currently reside, I lived in a studio type room within a house of multiple occupancy and even back then when I was on pretty much minimum wage, jumping from job to job, I question what I spent my cash on. 

It terrifies me to think that I will yet again have to depend on someone else and with that statement I mean that I will not be able to afford the house by myself should anything go wrong and therefore will rely on Mr Warehouse and his input both financially and in running the place. Now I know that for many of you who are already married or cohabiting that this may not seem like such a big deal, but I don't know, maybe this is a problem for me because I have been let down many times by other people, both in past romantic relationships as well as within my close family network. My therapist has said that abandonment is a major part of my life and that many things can trigger this rejection so making sure that someone doesn't get too close or that I don't depend on anyone apart from me is simply my way of coping and dealing with never feeling cast aside, unwanted or unloved ever again. I think my one biggest fears going into the whole experience of buying a home with someone I am not married to is that I know there is no legal standing when it comes to our separation, regardless when or even if it happens. Mind you, I suppose that being married doesn't necessarily mean that someone will not get up and just leave you either. 

I have to remember that this is a happy time in my life and that one day I will explain to my own children about how I bought my first home at the ripe old age of twenty-six. I suppose there isn't many of my friend circle, if any at all, that have been able to get onto the property ladder without any financial help from someone, family or otherwise. I am seriously glad to be feeling even a little bit more back to normal and I am ever so grateful for the amount of support and love I have had over the last few months, fingers crossed it won't be long before I can once again walk in the sunshine and Sparkle as I did before. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Taking The Edge Off

Heyy, 

So this week I started med's. Yep that's right ladies and gentlemen I have finally opened up to the realisation that maybe medication is just what I need right now. Is it's easy for me to just come out and say it like that, no not really but then again how do you go about saying it or explaining it to someone that doesn't know or understand. 

In fact, I was quite shocked and almost borderline appalled that the doctor handed them out so easily. No silly questionnaire about how depressed I am or on a scale of one to ten of likeliness that I might top myself. Every other time I have been to the doctors (not that there have been many, gosh makes me sound like a right nut case, but there have been a few occasions) there has been a lengthy conversation about how I feel and how I have become to feel this way. Strangely I feel as though there should have been at least a little bit more push and pull. Then again maybe it was obvious and looking at my medical history it seemed the best thing for me. 

Opening this week's blog may have been quite blunt and to the point, but I must stress that I do not take decisions like these lightly and I have tried for the last few months (because the weeks of cloudiness have now turned into months) to not succumb to the need for medication in order to treat my mental health issues at the moment. Truth be told is that I never really wanted to be on them in the first place, but the fact of the matter is I need a fairly instant result in improving my mood and therefore my performance, both at and away from my desk. I know what I need. I need therapy and counselling and I need to talk about it. I know not to throw the word depression around like it is nothing. It is. 

I know people may and probably are already judging me for reaching for the pill box and questioning maybe why I am not always a miserable mess, however I would first ask them to never judge a book by its cover as you never know what someone is going through or how deep their problems lie.  Somehow breaking your leg and clearly having it in plaster makes it easier for people to talk about a illness or injury, but with disorders such as anxiety, depression and other mentally debilitating conditions it is not so easy. You have those that care and ask how you are everyday obviously wanting to hear that you are doing well. But then there are others that don't quite understand just how difficult it is. These types of people will not understand and simply asked you to pull yourself together or to pick yourself up and get on with it. Phrases like this frustrate me no end as if it was just that easy I could simply wake up and be the same bubbly and happy lass as I used to be. 

You see depression makes even the smaller things in life appear so much more prominently in your mind and bigger than in reality they probably are. On it's own I could have probably dealt with any number of the issues I am facing and that some of the problems and frustrations that I am up against at the moment are simply as a result of not being 100% myself. Unlike the last times I have felt cloudy and sad I have always been able to put it down to just one thing, rather than multiple failings. My Dad went to war, my parents divorced, I got kicked out, My boyfriend left me, Blah, Blah, Blah. But what happens when it is not just one box that is ticked but all of the above? 

For me this time is more difficult as I feel the stakes are high at this time and there is so much to lose including my job, my lifestyle and even my dream home are all on the line. I cannot mess this up and just need something to get me by. I just need to take the edge off and make everything a little less sharper. Just something that can help me just get by and work through the muddle and mess of it all. Therapy last week was helpful and I feel as though we are finally getting to where I need to focus my attention on being. They make me feel quite queasy and nauseous most of the time but I have to try and to concentrate all my efforts on what and where it is needed. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx