This is still me ❤️

Even after the love has gone. Part of my anxiety means that I cannot be late. This is such a major dilemma in my relationship, as my boyfriend has no concept of time whatsoever, often leaving home at the time he’s supposed to be somewhere, I on the other hand like to be at least 10 minutes early, I allow for traffic etc. If I am late it sends me into a meltdown and it's caused so many arguments between us. My punctuality went in my favour on the day I went to see the solicitor as I couldn’t bloody find it. I walked up and down the high street about 3 times before noticing it nestled between Lloyd’s Bank and the Pound Shop. I pressed the buzzer, no answer. Barry pops up in my head! “What if they have mixed up my appointment?” “What if he’s off sick today?” Arrrrrrgh. Luckily before I could respond to Barry or talk to myself in the high street, two people arrived at the door with coffee. “Hi, I have an appointment with David Beckham at 9 am” bless the girl for not even flinchi

The thing with anxiety is, that it’s always there, it’s never going away. The techniques I learned at my CBT sessions are great and do work, but you do have to work at it. I got a bit lazy. I finished the therapy in March, carried on doing the minimum (meditation etc) then there was a birthday and then we were off on holiday, great right? Not for Barry . I was feeling insecure, so instead of lying by the pool relaxing, I was comparing myself to everyone around the pool, thinking that my boyfriend probably wished I looked better. Why don’t I take care of myself more? All this whilst sipping several Pina Coladas I might add. I hated myself. All these negative thoughts I was having about myself were draining me, looking back now, I can see I was slowly slipping into a hole. I tried to put a brave face on but inside I was feeling quite sad, I put it down to hormones and got on with the holiday. About 6 weeks later, I received a letter from my ex-husband’s solicitor officially starti

Mental health is so confusing There are going to be a lot of acronyms flying around in this post, so please try to bear with me. So I had booked my lunchtime appointment with the CBT therapist (cognitive behavioural therapist) I was nervous and wasn’t sure what to expect. I had only told my boyfriend and the friend who had told me about CBT, I didn’t want anyone to know, I was quite embarrassed, I wasn’t mentally stable! The session was in an old fashioned building, hidden down a little side street in the City of London, I had to climb about 100 stairs, I was out of breath by the time I got to the first floor and all hot and flustered. I sat in the waiting area, half of me eager to rid myself of the craziness, the other half wanting to run out of the door and hide from it all. Then my therapist came out, she was lovely and put me at ease straight away. I explained that I thought I had OCD and why I thought that, I explained my temperament, the constant worrying and she told me th