Family, Mental Health

the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree…

I can’t think how irritating I must have been as a child. Which, I know, opens up all the possibilities for comment on how irritating I might be as an adult. Don’t do that, it’s too easy!

I was pretty hard work. I was chronically anxious and somewhat precocious, preoccupied for much of the time with the possibility of nuclear war, apartheid and the dog dying. I also worried excessively about my schoolwork, insisting my poor dad make appointments at school to discuss my lack of achievement ( I was pretty much a straight A student, except for PE, where I always got “could try harder” – which was true, but I have never been fond of anything that involves excessive sweating and large blue knickers). Let’s take a look at the list of worries and fears I can recall:

  • Nuclear war
  • Apartheid
  • The dog dying
  • Russians, generally. For no specific reason I can remember. Just the threat of the Russians.
  • The dark
  • Ghosts
  • The Yorkshire Ripper ( we lived in Oxfordshire)
  • Racial abuse
  • The local farmer (legitimate. He definitely had anger issues)
  • Being kidnapped ( let’s face it, they would totally have brought me back)
  • The Yellow Fiat Man ( that, my friends, is a whole post on it’s own)
  • Peas

I could go on but I won’t. Actually still have an issue with peas.

The nuclear war obsession gripped me for much of the time. Where most kids would have been watching Grange Hill I was trying to persuade my mum to let me build a bunker in the garden but my she was having none of it. My dad tried to make me feel better by explaining that we had so many American air bases near us, if someone did decide to drop a bomb on us “we’ll all be toast in seconds”. Kind of didn’t help.

The apartheid thing also gripped me, to an extent even today the issue of racial ( and sexual) diversity and how your race and gender can pre-determine your life chances and where you might end up in the world is still an issue very close to my heart. I grew up wishing vehemently that I was white, and truly believed that if I had been my life might have been so much better. I am very glad to say that I have shaken this notion off!

And then there was the dog. I would get out of bed maybe four or five times in the night to creep down to the kitchen to check if the dog was still alive. My mum has a memory of what felt like endless footsteps up and down the stairs, and the door to the kitchen creaking open and shut. They very much left me to get on with nursing that obsession. I asked her recently when it stopped – to which she replied “when the dog died”.

Like I said, hard work. I grew up in the 1970s and 1980s, and there was kind of this attitude where you just got on with things. That I’ll-give-you-something-to-cry-about-in-a-minute-era. Mum, who those of you who know me know that I adore, had a very no-nonsense pull-yourself-together kind of approach. Reminds me of those women in French and Saunders with the headscarves on. Head fallen off? Put some live yoghurt on it. Feeling a bit sad? Cheer up and eat a live yoghurt. Thrush? Put some live yoghurt on it ( actually that one does work – FACT). Mum has had a hard life at times, and her approach has always been to NOT TALK ABOUT IT. Basically, there was a lot unsaid and unseen in our house, even when everyone had definitely seen it. Bit weird. But that was her coping mechanism and she would say it served her well.

It might surprise you to know ( not least as you are reading this) that I actually do both. There is a learned behaviour of internalising, and I absolutely do this to this day. Then there is a more innate behaviour of wearing my heart on my sleeve. I think we can all hold those two things at the same time. How this manifests itself with me can be my childish, irreverent sense of humour. I once got thrown out of an NHS Board meeting for laughing like a hyena when someone walked over a floorboard and it made a noise like a fart. It still makes me laugh to this day and it was over 20 years ago. Laughter is often used as a salve for things I can’t deal with.

As an adult I have had periods of chronic anxiety and depression. As I have grown older I have definitely learned to deal with my anxiety much better – I think with the help of Cognitive Behaviour Therapy (CBT) which I do believe changed my life, also the passage of time, and at times, counselling. I’ve had counselling that really worked for me, and counselling that really didn’t. I think it’s each to their own. I found the head on one side and sympathetic noises kind of counselling really wasn’t for me. However, in recent years I had some counselling with one woman who in the beginning, I thought I wouldn’t get on with. I found her to be very challenging, and she kind of really touched some nerves. More than anything, she repeatedly pointed out when I had wandered off subject ( as I do, more generally in life) and challenged me that I was doing it on purpose to avoid dealing with the issue in hand. Which if course, was completely true, and I felt as if I had been both rumbled and out-foxed. We persevered, and actually, it was incredibly helpful, if really really hard work. Anyway. I’m going to leave that there as it deserves a post all in itself.

I’ve also been on and off medication over the years, and always felt at the time that is signified a massive, epic fail. The words I used around it also served to underline it “given in” being a typical phrase. Again, another post on that one but honestly – as I write it I see how ridiculous it sounds. Real at the time though.

Some years ago, a GP told me to walk. And walk, and walk. As far as my short chubby legs would take me. (Those are my words, not theirs. Although they might have thought it). In whatever weather. And I did, not in a Forrest Gump style, or the Proclaimers, but I did make it part of my daily routine. You know what? Best thing ever, and still is today. Today I find great solace and peace in being outside, pretty much whatever the weather has to throw at me. Having my own dog has also helped enormously – he forces me out even when I’m really not feeling it and I always feel better afterwards. The more time I have had him, the more I have noticed and really loved the changes of each season. Just taking time to notice feels very soothing.

And finally, there is the making. And sewing. And miniatures. And Tyrells Salt and Vinegar crisps. And carbs. And dresses. And Instagram, although you do have to watch falling down that rabbit hole. All of those forms of self-soothing.

So that’s a whistle stop tour of 49 years (I know right!). What I do know, is that when one of your children starts to display signs of anxiety and depression, and you’ve been there yourself – the next thing that happens is this:

IT MUST BE MY FAULT.

I’ve been there and got that T shirt. And again, as I write that I think how ridiculous. And I know how real that whisper in your head is. Well, stop that. It really isn’t. It isn’t your fault, and it isn’t theirs. Growing up now is a tough gig, in my view much harder than it was when I did ( I sound about 90, right?!). Again – the subject of a post to come, but just say it with me. It’s not my fault.

32 comments

  1. Brilliant Lisa!
    It must be therapeutic to write it all down too.
    Haven’t got much to say in return but wanted to say something so you know roughly how many people are actually reading 😁

    1. Thanks Pam! It is rather. And I have so many things that I do want to say! Even if nobody is reading, I think I needed to do it!

  2. Another thing on your worry list is what I was getting up to all the time. I vaguely remember the dog thing now you say but until then another erased item from my memory, bloody brain bleed

  3. Lisa, this is such a good read but a hard one to read too as it resonates with me and I know some of the pain you and your family have been through. I too have always been an anxious person and my eldest has had periods of depression and anxiety too and like you, I have felt it must have been my fault. I had moderately severe PND when I gave birth to his little brother when he was just 16 months old. It must have affected him then and the anxiety that sat on my shoulder through his childhood and adolescence must have affected him too. Thankfully he seems to be doing well now – though frustratingly for me he has spent the last 21 months in NZ! I hope your big boy will do well too.
    Looking forward to the next instalment.

    1. Thankyou that’s kind. I think the thing is our story is not out of the ordinary at all – it’s all too common but we just don’t talk about it enough. My big boy is doing much better, and I hope you have all found your way too. Thankyou for stopping by.

  4. I too had fears and anxieties as a child & teenager…. some quite normal, spiders, the dark, the original Dr Who intro (that freaked me out!) & I thought my eyes looked like frog eyes, my head was too big for my body (I still have a big head!) & being chubby (still am) But I think the bullying I suffered throughout my childhood & teenage years was what really fed my anxiety & followed me into my adulthood.
    After the birth of my first child, I can remember I developed an uncontrollable fear of there being an intruder in the house on many occasions. This once kept me locked in the bathroom one night for hours, too scared to come out as I already believed “he” had murdered my husband & baby! I was virtually at the point of screaming out the bathroom window for someone to call the police but somehow found the strength to creep out only to find my husband loudly snoring asleep in bed! I can laugh about it now but the fear was real at the time.
    It sounds trivial to relay these moments but I feel frustrated that anxiety & depression has held me back from accomplishing things I’d really like to have had a go at. And yes, the guilt of worrying that my problems led to mental health issues for three of our four children.
    I feel quite vulnerable just talking about this but I know it’s important to share & it’s really only the tip of my iceberg. Please tell me if this is too much info though & I’ll rein it on lol!

    Thank you for sharing dear Lisa, it really does help to know you’re not alone! Xxxx

    1. I couldn’t possibly tell you or anyone else to rein it in Sam! That would be a massive case of pot, kettle and black! I so get that thing about developing fears once you’ve had children. Mine is a paralytic fear of flying that I didn’t have before kids. That impending sense of doom is a horrible thing to carry around with you. And no, its not trivial. Well done for sharing a bit. You never know, might lead to a bit more.

  5. Loving this. I remember all that nuclear/Russians fear from the 80s. And how exasperated adults got with any kid that was anxious or depressed, mainly because it made for more work and they hadn’t a clue how to cope, really. I go back and forth on whether it was harder or easier then, but tend to lean towards it was easier. The scope of what young people have to cope with now is staggering.

    1. That bloody nuclear threat! I’m learning more and more how it affected my generation’s mental health, I always thought it was just me. I blame that Protect and Survive film, and Where the Wind Blows, for my almost total lack of sleep throughout the 80’s.
      Never told a soul until recently. Now that’s crazy. 🙄❤️X

  6. Hello! Thanks for sharing here in your new blog. I have loved your Instagram (the carrots crack me up) and am looking forward to reading more from you in this blog. I’m a mama to three little ones/ art teacher in New York and feel similarly about many things you spoke about in this post – seems like everyone’s anxiety is high lately especially children. My boys end up in my bed every night from nightmare/terrors and my daughter has developed stomach issues where she doesn’t want to leave the house 🤷🏻‍♀️ And, overall, I think I’m a calm, caring mom who encourages mindfulness and talking through anxieties. What am I doing wrong is a common thought in my head. Lock downs, remote learning and hybrid teaching has really taken a toll on my family. And, the amount of gray hairs that have developed on my forty-one year old head since March is ridiculous.

    Best of luck with your new blog 🙂

    1. Ah the grey hairs! I feel your pain, although I have a new hairdresser who has come up with a cunning plan to kind of partly embrace the grey – so far, so good! That “what am I doing wrong” ear worm has to be the worst. And much as I can dish it out and say don’t listen – I know all too well how it can follow you around. You need to kick it to the kerb! Thankyou for checking in.

  7. What a brilliantly written post. Can relate to lots of things … thank you for sharing this. Keep going . Xx Louise (@mumbishop)

    1. Hi Louise, thankyou. That’s really kind – I have lots of things to write about so brace yourself!

  8. What a brilliantly written post. Can relate to lots of things … thank you for sharing this. Keep going . Xx Louise (@mumbishop)

  9. Read your post this morning after a 2hr stint in our shop and before a day of teaching…First of all so lovely to get to know you better and to say how what you say about anxiety and MH issues.Life can be tricky when you wear your heart on your sleeve.Ihave probably always done the opposite fearing rejection.I find Instagram quite intimidating so thank you for brightening my day.We are living in a pretty grim world but the tiny things can provide solace and joy.Much love to you.x

    1. Hello Anne
      The tiny things really do. Thankyou for your comment and support, and I hope you might find this site helpful in some way x

  10. Hi Lisa
    Really enjoyed this post, I was always terrified of a plane crashing into our house! We lived near an RAF base that had fighter jets! Nuclear bombs also were always on my mind too. I think the Cold War was always on the news. My anxieties got worse as a teenager, when you are convinced everyone else is coping . Phobias started creeping in, I e reading aloud in class etc … but.. these things make us who we are today. Thank you for writing I identify with a lot of it!

    1. Hi Debbie! Thankyou! And you just reminded me, one of my adult fears is a plane landing on me! I drive past an airport on the way to work and I duck every time a plane goes over the car. The things we do! You must be of the same era as me then! Funny old time. Thankyou for taking the time to have a look at my ramblings, Lisa x

  11. Such a thoughtful interesting post. The attitude of keeping everything in from that War time/postwar parent generation really resonates with me. My teenage experience, losing all my relatives by the time I was 20, made me very independent, self contained, emotionally cut off and traumatised. So many things you’ve said here I’ve said internally too. KBO, fresh air, kindness and friends seem to work for me but I can’t resist self sabotage through food xx

    1. Thankyou, and I hear you on the food front! I guess there are worse forms of self soothing! Your experience sounds very traumatic, I can’t begin to think how you might look to deal with that. Fresh air, kindness and friends sounds like a good place though. x

  12. Hello Ms Lisa. I stumbled across your blog by accident. Maybe it was meant to be. I commend you for your bravery in sharing your, and your family’s story. Opening up our wounds and exposing our inner most heartache is never easy. I bet this decision was difficult and hammered away at your heart for a long time before you could take this platform. I worked with youth in the field of employment for many years and was witness to the daily struggles so many young people face. Not enough is being done to help and so I applaud you for shedding some light on this subject. I have always believed it is the brave who lead the way. I hope you continue with this as I’m sure you will touch many. Even if it helps one person, then you have been a blessing. I plan to stay tuned.

    1. Hello! Thankyou for getting in touch. You are absolutely right, it isn’t easy. But when I was in the darkest days of it I always thought when I started to emerge the other side, blinking a bit like a mole coming into the daylight, that I would try and channel it in some kind of positive way. This might not be the only way, but I do know that when I post on social media about it I get so many replies, from personal stories but in the main an overwhelming reply from people that says – thank god its not just me. So like you say, even if it’s just one then it will be worth it. Thankyou for stopping by!

  13. Hi Lisa,
    I am loving reading these!
    I too grew up in a house where the less said the better. So one felt that – that’s how one solves ones problems by internalising them. Sadly we know all too well that this does not work! I have 6 children- two of which find it extremely difficult to externalise and talk through anything. It’s so sad to listen as you know they just cannot let it out. You are exactly correct in saying that sometimes you need a therapist that can be challenging and difficult as they are the only ones who can get past the facade and ones intelligent eccentricity !
    Looking forward to reading more thank you 😊 Chrissie

    1. Thankyou Chrissie, and thankyou for stopping by, reading and commenting. We are of a generation aren’t we? I am convinced that it’s better to be talking if we possibly can, but even for someone like me it can be a challenge. I feel like I gave birth to my most recent post, it was so hard to write! Feel better now!

  14. I’ve jumped back on your posts.
    Highly strung they said. She’s always been highly strung. Not helpful. Neither were a myriad of counsellors.
    But I’m still here and us folk with anxiety are some of the strongest folk around.
    Your achievements speak volumes Lisa.
    Lynn xx

    1. Highly strung? That really isn’t helpful. You are still here and so am I, and we will keep putting one foot in front of the other.

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