Stigma challenge

Hi all,

10 October was World Mental Health Day (WMHD). A fabulous initiative to get everyone talking about mental health with the primary aim to "promote awareness of #MentalHealth in the workplace," although I would argue that it did more than just promote mental health in the workplace and actually from what I could tell it got loads of people talking about mental health in general, from sharing their experiences, feelings, pain, anguish and with others providing advice, support and a shoulder. What a fantastic idea and something especially easy to join in with in the age of Twitter.

Sorry, wrong kind.

Then there was Mental Health Awareness Week that took place 7-13 May this year (I remember, because I was in Ireland at the time) which did a similar thing. I wrote my Seven Steps to Stability blogs during the 2014 week to mark the 'occasion.' 

These are two brilliant examples of initiatives that get people talking about mental health with, lets be honest, the main aim of trying to douse the flames of stigma that sadly still exist today. But much that I laud these dedicated periods of time to talking about mental health, I hate that we still have to run them at all. Surely by now we should, as a human race, be in acceptance that mental health problems happen, that they are nothing to be ashamed of and that we should get good quality help without judgement. Why is this still deemed as fantasy? Why is it that mental health is still not on a level playing field with physical health when it comes to treatment, when we have reams of evidence that emphasises how massive an impact mental health problems have on so many people's lives? Why do people still feel ashamed of themselves if they do finally admit to having a mental health problem? 

Stigma.

Is it fallacy to think that we could ever live in a world where WMHD is not required? Time to Change doesn't need to exist because we have actually changed, because openly talking about mental health is embedded into modern society and dialect? Mental health charities don't need to provide access and referrals to private therapists because waiting times and therapy quality on the NHS is at least on a par with physical issues? 

People will be laughing at these moon-on-a-stick suggestions, but why? When so many people are suffering - and I don't exaggerate the term - around the world with anxiety, depression, OCD, schizophrenia, bipolar and so on, why do we still struggle to speak out, to not be judged? Why does the fear of this fuel our illness and make it even worse, prolonging it for months and years more than it should be?

Stigma.

I am fortunate in that most people I have ever told about my history of mental illness - anxiety -  has received it warmly with no evidence of blame or 'wow, you're weird' type looks, or anything worse such as abuse. But these people do exist for us to continue living in a world where speaking out about mental health problems and getting appropriate help can still be so bloody difficult.

Who are they? I will probably offend many by making sweeping generalisations here, but ultimately there are still a lot of people that refuse to open up and think the answer to everything lies in stubbornness. The same people are likely to think that anything wrong with someones life is their own fault. These people have perfect lives, of course (!), and so if any one else opens up that they have a mental health problem, that their life is not perfect, it is their fault in these people's eyes, and they therefore get blamed or are perceived as weird, weak or both. This sort of attitude isn't just to blame (see, now I'm playing the blame game - but in the right context I hope) for the stigma around mental health, by the way; it is to blame for numerous other issues we face, the likes of which I won't mention for fear of stoking up unnecessary political arguments which this blogging website is not meant to do.

This reason I give for the existence of stigma is just a theory by the way, but I know a lot of people who are, by no fault of their own, born with this sort of attitude and the sheer quantity of such individuals is possibly the reason why people fear speaking out about having mental health problem or struggle to get help for it for fear of being 'found out' and perceived negatively - which of course in most cases would worsen the mental health problem originally identified.

It is very difficult to change people's attitudes when they are like this, again because they believe they are always right. I have spent much of my 9+ year career trying to persuade people that climate change is important. Many won't appreciate that it even exists, regardless what I say. The only thing that changes their mind is when they get directly impacted by it itself, e.g. if their home gets flooded. This is utter nonsense of course, because a home getting flooded could be an isolated incident that is nothing to do with climate change, but because suddenly a potential impact of climate change affects them directly, they take an interest in it. 

It's similar with mental health. If they suddenly experienced a mental health problem, or someone very close to them did, mental health would suddenly be a concern to them, because it's real. The thing they have slagged off for years and been ignorant about suddenly becomes part of their life. But until that happens, their attitude won't change. 

It's basic behavioural psychology.

I would be very interested to know how many of the unconverted, if you like, i.e. those people I've been writing about who give us mental health stigma due to their attitude, have changed their minds about mental health as a direct result of days such as WMHD. Such statistics would be very hard to collect and therefore probably don't exist, but my point is, what is the most likely response to an unconverted individual about WMHD, or an equivalent day or week? Is it:

a) Oh wow, I did not realise how much of an effect mental health problems have on so many people. I am going to learn more.

b) What a load of nonsense; young people crying out for attention again.

If anything, WMHD and others could potentially just fuel their anger and make the stigma worse, although again I have no evidence to back this up. It's a bit like Greenpeace; their forceful tactics often put people off the issues around climate change rather than convert them to understanding it; I worry that WMHD or equivalent could do the same.

So, sadly, I don't know what the answer is to eradicate the stigma that we know still exists today. WMHD and equivalent initiatives are still worth doing because, as I said at the start of this blog, it helps those people with mental health problems get help due to the sudden spike of exposure that happens on such days, especially with the movement of social media. But is it really improving stigma overall? 

The good news is that mental health stigma seems overall to be a lot less than it was even a few years ago, for various reasons (which may include temporal events like WMHD; I could well by wrong in my summary above). By hook or by crook, by more people talking and opening up, we're getting there. But people still suffer in the hands of those who don't understand, or even worse, belittle them because they have a problem or blame them. I fear that the attitude of some of these people will never be changed by movements like WMHD - and I say that with experience in other fields.

Which is why it's even more important for the government to ensure that treatment for mental health problems is soon not the shambles that it remains today. That doctors and police know exactly how to act when they speak to someone with a mental health problem; their often unhelpful reactions can fuel the stigma even further.  Perhaps if change comes from the top - especially from this government who (sweeping generalisation) are often the government of choice for the sort of people I'm referring to - it may start to make these people think that this is a series issue. At least the government now are talking the talk, but will they walk the walk? Time will tell.

All I would say is, if you're reading this and have, or suspect you may have, any sort of mental health condition and don't know where to turn - speak to someone. And if they give you stigma laden bollocks in return, speak to someone else until you get the help you need. Don't give up. Your silence must be heard.

Best wishes,
Al

Going it alone III - sort of

Hi all,

When I first commenced this blogging site in 2012, I had just concluded my 50 sessions of CBT which ultimately helped me to overcome the worst of anxiety that had plagued me for 15 years prior. I had just moved out of home for the first time. The latter was hard, socialising was still a challenge, especially eating out, and yet I deemed myself to be in a good place relative to a year before when I could barely leave the house.

The stunning Vancouver Island

So taking a trip for nigh on two weeks to Vancouver and its surrounding areas in Canada was something that I wouldn't have even considered. Hell, I couldn't have considered taking a day trip to see a friend 50 miles away in this country as a viable option, without causing terrible distress, panic and probably a lot of self pity.

And yet, over five years on, the aforementioned Canadian trip has been achieved. I have actually flown on a plane for nigh on ten hours each way, stayed away from home for longer than a week, stayed in various different places within a foreign country...

...and survived.

In fact to hell with that, I actually even...

enjoyed it!

How is this possible? Well, the whole journey I have taken since I started this blog shows how; take a look at my recent series of fifth anniversary blogs which kind of provides a useful summary of how taking this trip was even possible.  Years of baby steps, trying, testing, often failing but ultimately succeeding with various different things. And fifty sessions of CBT, ultimately culminating in a handbook of techniques that I have been able to draw on to get me through numerous situations.

But nothing on the scale of Canada.

So along with CBT and the various factors associated with it, what specifically helped with this trip?

1) Going with someone else. That is why this blog is rather falsely entitled 'Going it Alone' because I wasn't alone. The whole reason that this trip came up is because my friend of 15 years, a musician, organised a series of gigs across the west coast of Canada. He knew that I always wanted to go to Canada and invited me to come on this trip with him. It also helped that he knows about my history; I was able to warn him that there was potential for me to have a mental breakdown, which took the pressure off.

2) Lack of intense organisation. Because of the above, flights, accommodation, getting to places within Canada (impossible without a car, which I don't have) and practically all of the logistics were organised for me by my friend, who is used to and a very good at this anyway. This took a lot more of the pressure off, reduced the stress and meant that I could literally just pay and go.

3) Possibly now or never. Because of the situation with my mum as documented previously, it is unlikely that I will be able to go away again for around two weeks in one go, due to the inevitable requirement of more of my support. So I knew that if I didn't go this year, I may not get the chance again for a heck of a long time. So I knew I had to rip off the plaster and just do it.

4) Magnitude beyond comprehension. Six years ago, leaving the house was hard enough. Four months ago, I managed to go to Ireland for eight days and successfully complete this trip. This was huge and was by far the biggest achievement in my life, ever. And yet even this was nothing compared to the scale of Canada - the distance, the time difference, the length of time away, what the trip involved, etc. So it was literally beyond my ability to appreciate what I was about to do - which helped considerably. If your brain can't compute what you're about to get yourself into, you can't panic about it as much!

5) Ireland. As I just mentioned, my eight-day trip to Ireland four months ago was totally crucial in being able to get through Canada. Ireland prepared me for being away, negotiating airports, testing CBT techniques in such situations, eating out (abroad) and the various other things that one needs to consider when travelling. My short trip to Edinburgh before it also helped me prepare for Ireland; I'm so glad the trips all fell into place in the way that they have (partially planning, partially luck!).

6) WhatsApp. I mentioned this in my review of my trip to Ireland; I only downloaded WhatsApp just before this trip, largely as a consequence of it and discovered how useful it was. It was even more fundamental during my trip to Canada to keep me connected to the people that matter. This helped tremendously.

7) Canada. I gave 'Ireland' as a reason for the success of my trip there back in May and on a similar note, I'm giving 'Canada' as a reason for the success of this trip. It is a truly wonderful country, with amazing landscapes and scenery, city vibrancy, cleanliness and the people are the friendliest I have met. Nothing is too much. They are open minded and make you feel welcome in whatever situation you find yourself in. This was especially important in light of the fact that for four of the nights there my friend and I stayed at people's houses, as a consequence of my friend's gig organisers providing accommodation. It made it easier to settle in and relax.

Naturally, there were challenges; most of the ones I listed following my Ireland trip still applied to varying different degrees. Of particular issue this time included:

1) Flying. The flights were horrible; in total, from boarding the plane to departing it, I was on the plane for close to ten hours each way. It is not pleasant, I can assure you. No amount of games, books, programmes or people watching can make it easier. On the journey back, a woman fainted right in front of me practically, which didn't help with selfish anxious thoughts: 'what if her fainting causes me to faint' etc. That went on for a while. It is a horrible, horrible, horrible way to travel in my opinion, and is very anxiety inducing, but ultimately, I got through it which is the main thing.

2) Sleep. Along with the ten hour flights was the eight hour time difference. My most recent blog discussed my issues with sleep and how I knew that the jet lag caused by travelling to Canada wouldn't help matters. Actually, things weren't as bad as I thought they would be, but nevertheless, waking up at 02:56 on the first day there wasn't helpful. It took a while to adjust but it could have been worse; the latter half of the week was better and actually if anything I slept better than normal due to less of the normal stresses of life being on my mind!

3) I had a bad cold. Unfortunately, I have a habit of 1) getting colds when I finish work for any length of time (the last time I had one was Christmas last year) and 2) getting really bad colds. I think the latter is as a consequence of years of anxiety battering my immune system, along with sinus troubles. This obviously spoilt about three days of the trip somewhat due to feeling physically poor (as well as affecting sleep negatively - see 2!), but also made things like breathing properly (a key CBT technique) more difficult. Being sensible was the main solution here; I didn't go to my friend's first gig, for example.

But let's be honest, the phrases 'nervous breakdown' or 'anxious mess' are not listed here, so that is a win-win all round. 

I am currently learning a lot about myself. I am learning that I have genuinely tackled anxiety to the point where I can begin to live my life, around twelve years or so after everyone else. Sure, everything is more challenging than it would be to someone without anxiety or another mental health condition, but challenges are things that I am used to, so bring them on I say. If I can go to Canada and not meltdown, then goodness me five years is a long time.

There may well be people reading this who are in the same position I was five plus years ago; in fear, in hope, in constant panic mode, scared of living in hell for the rest of their lives. If you are in that place, talk to someone. Family, friends, doctor, charities like Anxiety UK or the Samaritans, Twitterites who have experienced similar things, or even me. Just know this - you can come through dark times and begin to live your life. It is possible with hard work and, almost certainly, more anxiety along to endure the way. But the help is there in many different forms. 

Without this help, Canada would never have happened. Neither would Ireland, Scotland, moving house (three times), relationship, a social life or... anything. It can be done. Trust me.

Best wishes,
Al

Beddy bye byes

Hi all,

So, call me stupid, but after not sleeping properly for pretty much all of my life I have now realised I have a sleep problem. I am always reluctant to say I have something when I don't. For example, I have NEVER said I have had depression, because the 'depression' I have had in the past is nothing compared to what chronic depression sufferers go through. It's the same reason I've never called myself an insomniac. I know I don't sleep enough, a legacy of years of anxiety (which I have had, of course), but I never considered that I qualified as sleeping badly enough to be diagnosed as an insomniac.

Vancouver - scroll down for the relevance

However, after several terrible nights recently, and generally a summer where I've slept badly throughout, I thought I'd read more on the subject. The very useful NHS Choices webpages helped me realise within about two minutes that yes, indeed, I do actually have insomnia. A combination of the nonsense I put myself through when in bed and how long I've not slept properly for (i.e. ever) = insomnia. And yet, I have never teared off any tights with my teeth (a line for any Faithless fans out there).

This recent bout of bad sleep has coincided with a particularly and unusually busy (verging on chaotic) period of my life, perhaps unsurprisingly, and has made it more difficult for me to cope with. Hence why I have looked into it more.

To give you a fairly typical night:
I go to bed at 10.
Asleep at 10:30
Awake at 3.30
Awake until 5.45
DREAM DREAM DREAM DREAM (literally, like 4 in half an hour)
Alarm goes off at 6.15
Wished I hadn't fallen back asleep again.

Other scenarios:
Asleep at 10:30
Wake up at 4.30 on a Sunday

Out socialising until 1am (very rare)
Still wake up at 4.30. Maybe 5 as a reward.

I go to bed at 10.
Awake until 1.
Still wake up at 5.

You get the idea. The latter is less typical and in my opinion is the worst scenario, but has been an issue recently. At least if I get to sleep quickly I've banked a few hours.

But, because I've been getting at least some sleep (usually), I have never considered myself to be an insomniac. But apparently, I don't need a weatherman to tell me when it's peeing down - according to credible sources, I am indeed an insomniac.  A basic assessment set up by Sleepio, an organisation I am just learning more about, asks a few questions a gives you a score out of 32. I scored 10 with the message basically pertaining to 'you have problems.' 

So the question is, what to do about it. You know my stance on medication, and gladly the same credible sources don't commend this unless as a last resort. There are lifestyle changes I could make, although many of the suggestions they provide I've already done over the years. I wear ear plugs, I have blackouts, my bed is comfy, I eat my meal quite early, etc. I can start by doing a few more, like not write blogs about lack of sleep an hour or so before bed (8:43pm at the time of typing). 

I am considering CBT-I, which having put a link into this sentence I now know as much about as you, if you've clicked on it. Whether there is a charity like Anxiety UK out there through which you can obtain CBT-I I'd be interested to know, for fear of the NHS waiting lists. Sleepio, as mentioned, is another potential. 

But at least now I can finally do something about this. Having an unofficial but nevertheless pretty reliable diagnosis helps, so I can at least admit I need to sort it. I will keep you posted on progress. I perhaps naively assumed my sleep would improve as my anxiety lessened, but alas, not the case. My sleep is still erratic and unreliable, at best, and I continue to have problems. 

I mean, it's a good job I'm not going anywhere in the near future where there is a long jet lag period, isn't it?

So in 11 days time, I fly to the west coast of Canada. This is the first time I have been anywhere where the time difference has been greater than 1 hour, and only the second time I have been somewhere outside of the UK and Ireland. So I thought why not, let's go for half way round the other side of the world. Start small, you know.

I have always wanted to go to Canada. Well, I say that, I didn't really want to go anywhere for most of my life due to crippling anxiety, but you get the point. Canada appeals; it's liberalism, it's scenery, it's environment and it's people all seem to be my sort of thing, much more than here. I never thought it would happen. But now it is.

I am going with my good friend of 15 years who will be with me every step of the way - quite literally, as he is a musician and he's touring. So yes, I am effectively a roadie for 11 nights. But what this has meant is that he has basically done all of the logistical organising, all I have to do is pay half, pack and turn up. The latter may be the hardest part. But at least, with him doing all that, I can focus my mind on getting myself right and in a fit shape. 

The magnitude of this trip for me is beyond comprehension, quite frankly, which may actually be a good thing as I have no idea what I'm letting myself in for. The nine hour flight, the airports, the being so far away from home thing... oh hang on, maybe I do. 

You will no doubt recall that I went to Edinburgh in February and Ireland in May, both on my own, and both as a sort of preparation to this tumultuous trip. I passed both Edinburgh and Ireland - yes, there were some hairy moments, but compared to what would have happened say 3+ years ago, I passed them both with flying colours, and actually managed to enjoy myself for the most part. 

But this. This is something else entirely. I'm not physically on my own, that's a good start. But I am very much on my own mentally and I know how much this trip is going to take me out of my comfort zone. Let me emphasise, let me embolden what this blogging site is all about - I am a chronic anxiety sufferer. Not was, am. Yes, the last couple of years have been plain sailing when compared to the previous 28, but the underlying nature of such a condition will never go. It will always be with me, it's just whether I can keep it pushed down far enough that I get through big events. So far so good. But this event is the biggest of all.

Then there's the jet lag issue. Bearing in mind the first part of this blog, this could either kill me or cure me, sleep wise. And of course, everyone reading this will know and appreciate that the better you sleep, the better your mental health. Needless to say, the worse your mental health, the worse you're likely to sleep, and so on. So how this aspect goes will have implications both for the trip itself and afterwards. The bit I particularly worry about is losing eight hours on the way back. I'm one for getting back into the swing of things immediately; this simply isn't going to happen this time.

All this is going on whilst loads of other things are happening too. Work has been particularly busy recently, doing 9-10 hour days instead of the 7.5 I'm paid for. My social life has been unusually active and not only that, I am currently courting a lovely lady. Yes I know, hell, frozen, all that. Add all that into the mix along with the on-going situation with my mum and you get... well a lack of sleep. And thus, we've gone full circle.

Canada, without question, is going to be the biggest test of my entire life, bar none and by a country mile. Forget Ireland, forget Edinburgh, forget Wales with my mate, forget eating out, forget leaving the house when I practically had agoraphobia in 2011... this is the next level and some. And when combined with all of those other things I've just listed, the implications of what happens on this trip and how I deal with it could be massive.

Readers - I'm likely to need you for moral support in the coming weeks and months. So please bear with me. 

Best wishes,
Al

Dementia: What I have learnt so far

Hi all,

It wasn't all that long ago that my mum was diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease at the age of 67. I blogged about this when it first came to light that something was clearly wrong and the official diagnosis was provided in May.  Since then, it has been a case of learning to adapt and react, with opportunities to be proactive rather infrequent.

You'll be delighted to know that there are
equivalent images for dementia like the
'head in hands' images used to depict depression

To summarise the situation; my mum and my dad live together and there is no other family within a 60 mile radius. Even if there were, they are not in a position to help anyway due to their own issues. My parents do have friends locally who can help and be that social support, but striking a balance between this and exploitation is a difficult one to manage; I think my dad has done a good job at this so far. I work five days a week and so my role is to be with my mum one day each weekend to give my dad some respite, but also to provide my dad with on-going support remotely.  He is a 1950's born father, i.e., one who is stubborn, lacks external emotion and thinks he can do everything himself without needing support. So this has been a challenge in itself!

What I have learnt so far has been very, very important. I have not been with my parents when they have had appointments with specialists (despite me wanting to be) so I have never been given any advice directly about what I should do with regards to this individual case.  Everything I have learnt I've had to learn for myself and, often, then translate this across to my dad. It's more important he gets the benefit of what I've learnt than me, given he is with my mum seven days a week.

All of this, of course, should be considered with the backdrop of anxiety - the whole purpose of this website. Despite my anxiety now generally being under control, its legacy lives on and it also remains under the surface, lingering, waiting for something to bring it to the top. Something like coping with the pressure of helping a family member with Alzheimer's. I have kept it under control for now albeit with a few hairy moments; my concern will be later on down the line when things deteriorate further.

So what have I learnt so far?

1) It takes no prisoners
The main problem that we have faced so far is that my mum has gone through phases where she doesn't really know who my dad is. When she talks to me about events that have happened during the week, she uses the term 'they' when describing who she was with; when they have disagreed about something, my mum has said things like 'I'm not sure who he is, but we obviously don't like one another.' She also gets confused about things like how she will get somewhere, even though my dad has driven her there for years and years. The most striking example was when she asked me who helped me with something, and I said 'my dad' and she asked 'by 'your dad,' who do you mean?' And yet, she seems to be able to tolerate his presence in the house all the time - she's not frightened by him and doesn't directly question who he is. It is utterly bizarre - but then, that's Alzheimer's for you.  Unfortunately, it is unforgiving. It is often the closest person(s) to the person with the condition that suffer the most, not just because they are looking after them and dealing with their needs, but also because they are the people that get muddled up in the person with dementia's mind before anyone else. My mum has seemed to understand that my dad is there for a reason, but doesn't seem to realise that he's my dad. My concern is that this is going to get worse and worse, to a point where she won't want to be in his presence at all. However, some chinks of light have recently appeared (see concluding paragraphs).

2) Photos are incredibly powerful
I'd read that showing a person with dementia photographs of the past can be very powerful in stirring up important memories. I told my dad this and pleasingly he took my advice and went through some of the myriad of old photo albums that my parents have. Voila, the following weekend my mum actually called my dad 'Dave' (his name, thankfully) on several occasions and referred to him as my father a couple of times too. This, I can only assume, was all due to the fact that he showed her photos of both of them together years ago, and with me as a baby. I have coined these our secret weapon for future use. It may seem obvious to show photos, but I probably wouldn't have considered it had it not been for...

3) Read the literature
There is a lorry load of literature available for carers on dementia and techniques to use to help them and yourself. The photos idea was one of the scores of ideas that I suggested. Most of this literature comes from the incredibly helpful guidance from the Alzheimer's Society who do a wonderful job at providing support. They have written guidance on just about everything and these, along with guidance from other websites such as NHS Choices, has given me so much information to help. Almost too much, actually, and as such I produced a two-side document summary of all of the information that is most relevant to our situation which I intend on using as my go-to guide when I need help with anything.

4) Medication helps
About 3-4 weeks ago, the specialist increased the strength of medication my mum was on (don't ask me what it was called because I can't remember!). Now, any regular readers of my blog will know that I am largely against medication, especially long-term, for many mental health conditions and medication should only be taken when in conjunction with therapy and/or for a short time. But Alzheimer's and wider dementia related illnesses, to me, are different 'sorts' of mental health conditions to say anxiety or depression, so my opinion on medication to help alleviate the symptoms was totally open before all of this started. My opinion now is that it can certainly help, if nothing else to make the person less anxious and more rational. The recent (I presume) short-term improvement in my mum was certainly in part due to the photos (see above) but also coincided with the increase of the medication strength.  She seems a lot brighter and generally a bit less confused that she had been for several weeks if not months prior. So I hope this continues for a while yet! The literature indeed states that medication generally 'temporarily alleviates symptoms' which is what it has done - the burning question is, how long for?

5) Music matters
One of my main challenges when I see my mum on a weekend is how to keep her occupied. Walking is a no-brainer (see below) and when it's footy season that's another good one - my mum, fortunately enough for me, likes watching football. But what else? What do I fill the gaps up with? One answer is music. She can remember lyrics to songs almost verbatim in some cases and knows a lot of tracks from the 60s, 70s and 80s (and even 00s dance tracks after my brainwashing during this era...). So on a few occasions now we have basically sat together and I have either put on one of the many music channels provided by Sky, or put on a playlist of tracks that I have put together from those eras. I bought a load of compilation albums from Amazon and i-Tunes and put them onto a memory stick which I now keep with me when I see her in case music seems to be a good option. The result is she enjoys it, can sing along and we can have a laugh about it. Simple but effective.

6) Physical activity is fundamental
Much of the literature I have read states clearly that exercising can help people with dementia (and an also help to prevent it in the first place). Luckily, my mum has always enjoyed walking and I always ensure when I see her that we go for a walk. We're also lucky in that my parents live close to some great rural walks through fields, onto Cannock Chase and along canal towpaths, so I always make sure we do one of these when I see her. She enjoys it, it gets her fresh air and exercise and gives me exercise too. It's also a good opportunity for her to chat about things to someone she hasn't seen for a week, i.e. me.

7) Don't do everything for her
I hate ironing. The good news is that my mum doesn't and she is much faster than me too. So when I visit, I take shirts that I need ironing with me. No, this is not because I'm lazy*, but because it is important that a person with dementia feels useful and needed. Her doing the ironing for me gives her a purpose and, moreover, it saves me doing a task that I hate! This is one example of many.  Another example is that my old room needs clearing out at my parents house and when I do this I will get my mum to help me. Not because I have to, but because she'll find herself useful.  I've been trying to tell my dad about this and I think he's finally getting the idea!

*I am also lazy when it comes to ironing...

8) Be the same person
Talking to my mum like I always have has, at times, been difficult. Trying not to finish sentences or remember things for her or put words in her mouth. Trying not to do things for her because it's easier (see 7). But I have learnt that it is hugely important to be the same person around her. React in the same way. Do the same things and laugh at the same things. Talk about the same things. Don't treat her with kid gloves. I thoroughly appreciate that there will come a time where this will become increasingly difficult as the condition 'progresses' (hate using such a positive term to describe it), but whilst she can still do things and talk about things, I need to make sure I am the same person I always have been - otherwise she'll know something isn't quite right.

9) Look after yourself
The realities of taking care of someone with Alzheimer's has started, but both me and my dad have only just scratched the surface so far. It WILL get far harder both emotionally and physically as she deteriorates, whenever that happens significantly. The later stages of Alzheimer's are horrible to read about and I can only imagine what they are like to see them in reality - but that will happen, eventually. So it's important that me and especially my dad look after ourselves as much as possible and don't neglect our own needs. We can do some of this now, even if it doesn't really need to be done yet, in advance and prepare to what may happen a few months or years down the line. For me, this may be reducing my working hours to free up more time to help my parents but also more time to live my own life; the latter is vital, of course, not least for me so that I don't become an anxious mess and become useless to everyone.

To finish on some good news. After going through a difficult couple of months where my mum was really confused and where the biggest problem was her not knowing who my dad was, we have come out of the other side of this (thanks to many of the interventions above, especially medication) and her case worker (if that's adequate terminology) has said she shouldn't need to see her now for a year, so that's great news. She obviously has difficult days and goes through challenging spells, but if she can remain at this level for as long as possible that would be ideal - she still has a reasonable quality of life at the moment, as indeed does my dad. They can still enjoy things and appreciate things.

But I suppose the main thing I've learnt is that it is unforgiving. It can happen to anyone and is increasingly affecting more people as our population gets older. As always, our services aren't prepared to cope with this change.  Moreover, there are so many suggestions for things that one can do to try and minimise the dementia risk - what do you believe? Do any of them help? My mum didn't smoke, she always gets plenty of exercise and did a crossword everyday, so what gives her being diagnosed at 67? 

The good news is that thanks yet again to our wonderful charities, we can get support for every step of our journey. A journey which, for us, will inevitably get harder both emotionally and practically - but one that I am ready to tackle. As, after all, I would do anything to support my mum.

Best wishes,
Al

PS - Four weeks until I go to Canada... what the hell? Blogs to come (you'll be delighted to know...)

What's black, white and red all over? This blog

Hi all,

The i newspaper published an article a week or so ago by a University of Cambridge academic. It was entitled 'Want to stop anxiety attacks? Try changing your mindset' and it was an interesting read. I should mention initially that I am very pleased with the way the i newspaper generally reports on mental health; it covers the importance of mental health on a regular basis and this article is another example of that. The i recognises it is a serious issue and doesn't slag off people they are reporting about who have mental health problems, unlike many other newspapers that use careless or deliberate use of language that offends.

Don't let this exciting image distract you from the blog

I managed to find a copy of the article online and I have pasted it below and annotated accordingly. Essentially the article, as the title suggests, is providing advice on how to help yourself if you have anxiety by changing the way you take on situations and the way you think and perceive things. I have read numerous articles of this nature in the past so I should emphasise that I'm not singling out this particular article or this author (hence why I have anonymised them in this blog) for any specific reason - my point is that when you're reading articles about anxiety, it is okay - and in fact, important - to critique them and not take their advice or guidance as gospel.  This article is perfectly sound, and again I appreciate the i newspaper's efforts in including articles on subjects of this nature, but I thought I'd have a go at providing a response to it from the perspective of someone who has gone through anxiety for many years.

The original article is in black font, my response is provided in red. See what you think.

-Article begins-

Most people experience anxiety at some point in their lives. Yes, but do we mean stress or anxiety? Big difference. Anxiety is generally longer-lasting so I'd be reluctant to say 'most.' It can present itself as fear, restlessness, an inability to focus at work, difficulty sleeping or irritability and more... so much more...

In social situations, it can make it hard to talk to others; you might feel like you’re constantly being judged, or have symptoms such as stuttering, sweating, blushing or an upset stomach too true. It can take the form of a panic attack, or it can be present all the time this is made to sound like panic attacks are isolated incidents - oh it's only a panic attack, not as bad as being there all the time... sadly not, panic attacks can occur frequently, be unrelenting and even themselves last hours. In fact, if you have 'being there all the time' anxiety, chances are you're having panic attacks every now and then anyway... If anxiety starts interfering with your life, including sleep (what's that again?) or ability to form relationships (relation... what?), you might have an anxiety disorder, which affect around three million people in the UK I don't like stats like this... I was never officially diagnosed with anxiety by a GP. So do I not count in the statistics? Twenty years of anxiety? Who knows how these stats are calculated. And anyway it doesn't matter to the person with anxiety how many other people have it at the time (trust me)...

Unfortunately, the medication prescribed to treat anxiety doesn’t often work in the long term I'm very pleased to hear the article not say that medication is the only answer. Even people who firmly believe in meds will largely agree that it is only a short term solution. And anti-depressants are definitely not the answer, by the way. But science can still help with coping skills that have emerged from research – partly from a study I helped run which will be presented at the 30th European Congress of Neuropsychopharmacology (wow...) in Paris.

1) Do it badly

Do you feel like your life is out of control? Do you find it hard to make decisions – or get things started? One way to overcome indecision is to “do it badly”. This may sound strange actually, this will but the fear of God into most people with anxiety, given that is exactly what they are trying to avoid, but as the writer and poet GK Chesterton said: “Anything worth doing is worth doing badly.” Taking on this mindset speeds up your decision-making process. People often want to do something “perfectly” or wait for the “perfect time” before starting sometimes you can't help it if you have an anxiety condition. But this can lead to delays or even prevent us from doing it at all. And that causes more stress and anxiety (which aren't the same thing). Not worrying about how something is going to turn out will not only make it much easier to begin, but you’ll also find that you’re completing tasks more quickly but how does one do this when they have anxiety? If you have social anxiety, this suggests you can switch it off like a tap and do it anyway. That's impossible - otherwise no-one would have social anxiety. More often than not, you’ll also discover that you’re not doing it that badly at all but if you have social anxiety you'll only be able to think you've done badly, regardless - without the appropriate training.

2) Wait to worry

Are you critical of yourself and the blunders you make? Imagine if you had a friend who constantly pointed out everything that was wrong with you. You’d probably want to get rid of them right away. But people with anxiety often do this to themselves so frequently that they don’t even realise it this is certainly true. Perhaps it’s time to change and start forgiving ourselves for the mistakes we make how?. If you feel like you’ve embarrassed yourself, don’t criticise yourself – simply realise that you have this impulse to blame yourself, then drop the negative thoughts and redirect your attention back to the task at hand again how? I'd like to see a reference to CBT here (and above) - it took me 50 sessions of CBT to begin to change my thought processes in a similar way to this so I would expect CBT to be emphasised here. Another effective strategy is to “wait to worry”. If something went wrong and you feel compelled to worry about it, postpone it – set aside 10 minutes each day in which to worry about everything. If you do this, you’ll find that you won’t perceive the situation that triggered the initial anxiety to be as worrisome when you come back to it yes again all sound ideas, but someone with chronic, chaotic anxiety wouldn't be able to do this without intensive support. This is, again, training your mind and it is a CBT technique - you need lots of practice. This article infers that it can just be done at the flick of a switch, which is absurd. I'm sure the author doesn't intend this but this is how it comes across and could make someone with anxiety seem even more inferior, thinking it must be 'that simple' when in reality, it isn't!

3) Find purpose in life by helping others

It’s worth considering how much of your day is spent with someone else in mind. If it’s very little or none at all, then you’re at a high risk of poor mental health so do all selfish people have anxiety? I'd like to hope that I consider and think about other people a reasonable amount and yet that didn't stop me getting anxiety (although I was only 11 so who knows, I guess!). Regardless of how much we work or the amount of money we make, we can’t be truly happy until we know that someone else needs us and depends on our productivity or love given that loneliness can be a cause of anxiety I can understand this point, but again this is written as though someone who gets anxiety is a selfish, self-absorbed person. This can't be true in every case!!. This doesn’t mean we need praise, but doing something with someone else in mind takes the spotlight off us (and our anxieties) and places it on to others ah OK that's making more sense... – and how we can make a difference to them. Being connected to people has regularly been shown to be one of the most potent buffers against poor mental health tips on how to foster these connections would have been useful here given that making connections with others is often impossible for anxious people! The neurologist Viktor Frankl wrote: “For people who think there’s nothing to live for, nothing more to expect from life… the question is getting these people to realise that life is still expecting something from them.” Right OK... not sure this is helpful for someone in the midst of a panic attack...

Knowing that someone else needs you makes it easier to endure the toughest times. It could be as simple as taking care of a child or elderly parent, or volunteering again for someone with anxiety this would initially be too big a step - so how do we get there? Even if these people never realise what you’ve done for them, it doesn’t matter, because you will know. And this will make you realise the uniqueness and importance of your life moon on a stick... this won't help someone with anxiety initially.

-END-

I think you get my point. The article has been written with perfectly good intentions, but is not remotely helpful for someone in the grips of crippling anxiety, not least because it doesn't explain how you're supposed to implement these mindsets. Without the explanation, it could actually make someone with anxiety worse, given that they might start to get upset thinking they are inadequate for not being able to do it!

So my message is this - if you have anxiety and are in the grips of panic, social phobia or health anxiety, if you come across an article written by an expert please don't take it as red. Don't think that 'they make it sound easy, so why can I not sort myself out?' All this will do is make you feel more inadequate which is far from helpful. Had this article given advice on how to change your mindset and who can provide this advice, then fair enough. But just talking about it like it's the world's most straightforward thing is no use. If it were that simple, surely no-one would have anxiety?

Before I sign off, I'd like to thank those of you that read and/or commented on my recent 'Five Blogs of Thanks' series, which celebrated the fifth anniversary of this blogging website. I still can't quite believe it's been that long! It meant a lot to hear your comments and thoughts and that what I have been writing has had a positive impact on at least a few people. So thank you! If you haven't seen them, you can catch up here:

• Introduction
• The Professionals
• Twitterites
• Colleagues
• Non-Conventional Friends
• Conventional Friends

Best wishes,
Al

Five Blogs of Thanks - 5th Anniversary of The Anxiety Tracker - Conventional Friends

Hi all,

Today is the fifth anniversary of The Anxiety Tracker.  I set this site up in good faith on 15 June 2012 and I am surprised by my own admission that I have kept it going since, with approximately one blog post every month.  If it has helped or influenced just one person over the years, I will be satisfied. Moreover, if you’d have said to me five years ago that I would be in exactly the place I actually am now, I wouldn’t have believed you (see matrix on first blog of this series). 

I have saved who I would deem the most important ‘group’ of people to thank in this final blog in the Five Blogs of Thanks series: my friends. I mean the ‘conventional’ friends (see last blog!) who are also, anyway, my ‘best’ friends out of everyone that has supported me. 

I could get a little emotional here.

Because I have such a small family that is not local and most of whom I am not particularly close to, and because I am an only child, I have always relied on friends for company, laughter and to share things with.  My friends dragged me through school years quite frankly. I was the nobody, the coward, the quiet one, the wimp.  I was actually going through chronic anxiety which was largely the reason for that, but ultimately I had no confidence whatsoever and having a network of close friends kept me going. It was a small, close-knit network, but for me it worked.

I owe a lot to three of my friends in particular.  One I met in 1991, yes when we were four, and we are still great friends today, 26 years on. I am going to be best man at his wedding soon (which I am told is a good barometer for measuring extent of friendship in people our age these days). He moved away from where I lived in 1999, first year of high school; our maintained friendship proves our strength but also emphasises why I owe a huge amount of gratitude to two other people I met at the very start of high school who, again, I am still close to today.

These gentlemen saw me at my worst.  Largely, until we got older and I knew what was going on, this wasn’t attributed to anxiety; I was just ‘different to everyone else.’ But despite my moods and various other issues, these guys stuck by me and remained people I could trust and laugh with. And that is the balance I have managed to strike with most of my friends; I know I can act utterly stupid with all of them, laugh wildly and play ridiculous card games – but the next minute talk openly about mental health.  It works.

With a couple of exceptions, all of my closest friends I met at school. I don’t know if this is normal, but that is the reality for me. I would say I have seven close friends within my network, which to me feels perfect. Enough to maintain the social interaction one needs when one is single and a lone sibling with a tiny family. But not too much to overwhelm, to potentially throw me into more socially anxious situations. I could not be more comfortable with all of these people; they accept me for who I am.  It is obvious I am socially awkward, it isn’t normal to be single come (nearly) 30, I don’t necessarily like the stereotypical things other guys do. But they don’t care. So many seem to.

It is easy to say, as I do often, “I don’t know where I would have been without X.” Quite honestly, when it comes to my friends, I genuinely do not know where I’d be. They have dragged me through hard, nigh-on impossible times – either knowingly or unknowingly – and continue to do so. They have done this by lighting up the room when I need a pick up, or by talking frankly, openly and honestly to me when it’s needed. They have been there for support when otherwise I would have had none.

I admit that I have become reliant on my friends to pull me through difficult times. I don’t think they quite know how reliant and I just hope that at no point have I come across as being too reliant. But ultimately that’s the reality; without them sticking by me my life would have contained a huge empty hole that, no doubt, would have filled with anxiety.

If you’re one of the people I’m referring to in this post, you know who you are.  Thank you, for just about everything.

And thank you to anyone who has read these Five Blogs of Thanks or, indeed, any of the 128 posts before them. You’re all great.

Here’s to another five years.

😃

Best wishes,
Al

Five Blogs of Thanks - 5th Anniversary of The Anxiety Tracker - Non-Conventional Friends

Hi all,

I am a fan of categorisation and lists, as any regular followers of this blog may have gathered. In thinking of how to categorise these Five Blogs of Thanks, I wanted to dedicate a blog to those people who I class as ‘other than conventional friends’ (by ‘conventional friends’ I mean friends of a similar age who I’ve met through more typical means, such as school, work or university) and also recognise the impact my family has had on me.  I couldn’t separate them, so this blog attempts to thank both ‘categories’ of people; although in a way, I guess you could also count my family as ‘non-conventional friends’ as well!

I think it’s reasonable to say, even in a day and age of political correctness and my above-average awareness of how important it is not to stigmatise mental health problems, that I am not normal. What this has meant is that I have had the fortune of meeting people who I probably wouldn’t have met had I been immersed in what a ‘normal’ person’s life of someone with my background would look like. 

A good example is that over the years I have made many friends with people who either caught or drove local buses (before the government cut all the routes).  I don’t know anyone else who doesn’t class themselves as a bus fanatic or spotter who has developed such relationships.  Most of my conventional friends drive, for a start, and those that have caught buses used them for their intended purpose – to go somewhere.  But the relationship and banter I chalked up over the years through a combination of frequent bus usage, seeing the same people all the time and finding myself more comfortable talking to people aged 80 rather than my own age due to a lack of confidence allowed me to get on really well with some of the bus-related people. 

I mentioned in yesterday’s blog how I have known several people who have helped me with my anxiety condition without them realising it – bus folk are another example. I never talked about things as personal as my mental health condition to them and yet their presence and chats made travelling easier, especially important during periods when travelling was extremely difficult. Another example are people I’ve met through swimming, which by the way I would advocate for anyone who has a mental health problem. They are hilarious and make the experience a lot more pleasurable as a result. And they don’t judge me.

I also mentioned yesterday the impact that a university lecturer had on my career.  But it wasn’t just him – my university and course specialised in nurturing and caring for their students, as much as research and general lecturing and as such it was easier to gain a strong relationship with them. Then there was my greater comfort of conversing with people older than me again. So despite university being rather difficult at times, the lecturers made it much better than it would have otherwise been – again, without them knowing about my anxiety problems.

And then there is my family.  A group of people that you would think would know all about my anxiety problems. Think again. My parents know what I’ve had to tell them; after the 2011 meltdown that I keep going on about, I had no choice but to explain how bad things were. But even then I sugared things slightly and to this day they have no idea of how much pain I was in, how long for and most critically how much anxiety has hampered my life.  My dad is a typical 1950s born ‘I never talk about emotions’ type person and my mum would simply get too upset if I told her how bad things really were, pressure which would only have made things worse for me and, cyclically, for her.  So I spent large parts of my hellish experience going through it alone, with occasional support from friends when I was at my wits end. It’s how I felt it had to be and I stand by that.

I have never been too close to my wider family either; for a start they are not located just up the road.  My dad’s side I hardly ever see (which I can confirm is for the best…) and of the four people remaining on my mum’s side, two of them are disabled and the other two care for said disabled people, so burdening them with my own problems was never an option in my eyes.

However, despite all of this, my family have helped me get through anxiety. It wasn’t my parents’ fault that I kept a lot from them and when I did tell them things, they were as supportive as they knew how to be.  An example was when, after the 2011 debacle, my dad offered me lifts to the CBT sessions; this wasn’t relevant in the end as I opted for webcam therapy, but the offer was there. I must have worried them and as such I thank them for keeping strong (externally) and, of course, for being good parents in several other ways. 

On my mum’s side of the family, my aunt, who cares for my cousin, hasn’t spoken to my mum for at least ten years for reasons largely unknown. I never see her and on the surface of it she is, as that side of the family would say, a ‘funny bugger.’ (The whole set up in that half of the family is beyond bizarre by the way, but that’s for another time). However, despite this, she has provided me with some inspiration. Regardless of her cold personality, she has no doubt done an incredible job at bringing up a child who was deprived of oxygen at birth and who has severe autism, who cannot speak, who is prone to violent tantrums and who cannot control urinal or bowel movements. I have drawn inspiration from her; ‘if she can deal with that situation day to day, I really ought to get a grip and sort my anxiety out.’ 

I am not privileged to have a large, functional family but I can still admire them for dealing with difficult times and thank them for standing by me and doing their best to bring me up well. I now intend on returning the favour as we embark on new challenges.

• To the ‘other than conventional friends’ for not casting me aside for being different, thank you.
• To my family who have inspired and supported me (when I’ve let them), thank you.
• To my parents who will always support me despite going through their own challenges, thank you.

Best wishes,

Al

Five Blogs of Thanks - 5th Anniversary of The Anxiety Tracker - Colleagues

Hi all,

The previous two blogs in this series have documented people who have helped me who have at least a partial remit of helping other people with mental health problems, either because they are paid to do so, or because they are compassionate individuals wanting to share their thoughts and experiences (or often both). However, for me, there have also been several people in my life who have helped me unknowingly and this particularly applies to people I have worked with over the years.

I am extremely lucky when it comes to how my career has progressed. Okay so I have worked hard to gain this, but I have also been given numerous breaks that have ultimately led me to work for a small not-for-profit organisation focused on a subject I am incredibly passionate about and with a brilliant team of people.  It all started in 2008 just after I graduated; I didn’t know what I was going to do with myself at this stage, this in spite of 2008 being one of the less-terrible years anxiety-wise between 1998 and 2012.  That, again, was fortunate in the sense I could actually consider starting a job – several years either side of 2008 would have made starting a job very hard due to anxiety.  Year 2008 was a mini anxiety hiatus; yes, I still had many problems compared to today but things were not as bad as most of my university years that had just concluded.

I was alerted by a university lecturer to a graduate placement days before it was advertised to the wider public.  The lecturer knew my interests and knew the placement would be of interest – one example of so many that shows why enrolling to a ‘smaller’ university that get slated in the press and by government is often the best way forward.  Lecturers actually know who you are for a start.  Without his intervention, I would never have seen this graduate opportunity, which led me onto another work placement opportunity which turned into a full-time paid job within four months, a job I ended up staying in for nearly five and a half years.  Then in January 2014 I got through an interview to start my current job.  All of these jobs have been associated with the subject I am passionate about, too, so I know how lucky I am.  This is especially true when you consider that I couldn’t undertake part-time jobs during school summer holidays or university because I was so anxious!

So I have been in work for almost exactly nine years (I started my graduate scheme job on 16 June 2008, two days before my 21^st birthday!).  And despite going through some absolute nightmare times, in particular the aftermath of the 2011 railway meltdown which came about ironically to discuss the potential for quitting work and doing a masters, work has been one positive constant throughout the past nine years and remains the case today, arguably more so than ever.

Both jobs prior to my most recent one were based in a local authority, so sure, you had a lot of utter nonsense (political, corporate, administrative crap, largely) to deal with.  But I enjoyed the day job and another bonus was only living a short bus ride away from work (and in the latter couple of years within walking distance).  This was important during the aforementioned meltdown as leaving the house was hard enough; had I been required to travel miles it would have been impossible.

But what has been the main success of work? My colleagues.  Not so much during the graduate scheme where no-one really spoke to me, but once I started at the council in September 2008 I was lucky enough to work with a mixed group of people, with ‘mixed’ meaning some not so good colleagues but some ace ones.  I left the council in January 2014 and yet there are still several people I keep in touch with on a semi-regular basis.

These people kept me going in 2011-12 when I was in hell. A combination of their humour, warmness and office banter, along with the distraction that a largely enjoyable job brought, meant that the office was the one place where I could be less anxious than everywhere else.  It is the opposite for a lot of people I appreciate, but that’s the way it was.  More difficult times came in 2012-13 when I moved out of the family home for the first (and second) time; but even then, the short but severe bouts of depression did not occur when I was at work because of the nature of the people there keeping me going.

But none of them really realised what I was going through, that was, until not long after the 2011 incident.  I nearly collapsed in the office so I had no choice but to open up to my boss and boss’s boss about what was going on.  I didn’t particularly like either of them, but to their credit they were understanding and kind which, again, I know is not necessarily normal.  Despite not being ‘my sort of people,’ I will never forget their response to what I told them, which was very positive.

Beyond this, the several other colleagues I became close with never really knew what I experienced, that was until the very last day at the council, 17 January 2014, when I opened up in my leaving speech.  Again, this was very well received and I have since had discussions with a few people about my experiences with anxiety and indeed this very blog site.

After negotiating the interview for my current job, I settled in quickly and it didn’t take me long to realise that I was working with a fabulous team of people and had a boss who was both knowledgeable and very good at what she does, but also an excellent man-manager. In my limited experience, it is rare to find someone with both characteristics (it’s more common to have neither!!).  She has been my manager for the whole three and a half years that I have been here. The other member of the team who started just after me (yes, there are only three of us) was a star too and I was fearful when she left about nine months ago. However, her replacement is another fantastic colleague to work with – so again, I have been lucky.  There is an element of working for a small environmental not-for-profit that attracts such personalities, I guess, but even still there are far from any guarantees! Even the temporary interns we’ve had have been good people (largely). 

I look forward to going to work, yes because I enjoy the work and the influence it has, but more so because of the people I work with.  It is comfortable, enjoyable and the atmosphere is light and positive. I have walked into several (usually, large open-plan) offices since starting with this company and come out feeling like the life has been sucked out of me. So again, I recognise how fortunate I am.

It begs the question why I have never truly opened up about my mental health issues in my current job.  I only did it in my last job when I had no other choice (collapsing on the floor apparently is enough to force your hand…) and I trust my current colleagues more than ever.  They are open-minded, non-judgemental people and would do nothing but provide support if I told them; I very much doubt they would react negatively. So why not? Is there still an underlying stigma there that always sows those seeds of doubt… ‘what if this happens, what if that?’ I think there is always an element of not wanting to burden other people, too, when I’m conscious that work is busy enough as it is and they all have their own stuff going on in their personal lives. I don’t want to add another spanner in the works.  Either way, though, it is further evidence that speaking totally openly about mental health problems still feels a little alien, despite my general openness with friends and through this blog, when really there is no reason why it shouldn’t.

This is what I meant earlier about people that have helped me without them realising it.  My ace colleagues and fortunate work situation means that going to work is an enjoyable experience and has actually helped my recovery from crippling anxiety over the years.  Today, it keeps my mind off other challenges.  My colleagues, though, have no idea what impact they are having on my personal life.  One day I must properly open up and thank them.

The reality is that work, for me, has been the only constant over the past nine years amongst a myriad of noise, change and chaos caused either by anxiety, its legacy or by life itself.  Without it, I do not dare to think what direction I would have taken.

Finally, I refer you to the start of the third paragraph of this blog, the day the lecturer at my university told me about the graduate placement.  That placement led me on to my two jobs subsequently, without which I dread to think how things would have panned out.  Without his intervention, I would never have seen the graduate placement advertised.  He has since retired and I will forever owe him a debt of gratitude and, most importantly of all, one huge thank you.

• To the lecturer who made my career, thank you.
• To the council and current employers for giving me my break, thank you.
• To all of the colleagues who kept me going during very hard times for just being yourselves, thank you.
• To my current wonderful team of colleagues who are just brilliant, thank you.

Best wishes,

Al