31st January - 2nd February 2025 Post Comment Love

Welcome back to #PoCoLo with Stephanie from Bosworth.Life and I.

Post Comment Love #PoCoLo is a friendly weekly linky where you can link up any blog post you've written this week. If you're new or a regular visitor we're sure you'll find something of interest.

Finally January has come to an end, it feels like it's lasted forever, why/how does that happen every year?

I really need to think about getting out in the garden soon, but it's just too cold and wet for that. I'm enjoying getting out and about on the weekends. 

Saturday I'm going out for brunch with a friend from work and on Sunday I'm out with my oldest Twitter/X friend for our postponed (due to unexpected snow) annual Christmas walk and lunch. We're meeting this year up near Kenilworth Castle. Wellies and waterproofs will be required.

February is going to be an emotional month for us. We have the arrival child 2 and his wife 2nd child, a new grandchild, due any day now and we're off to Northern Ireland to visit child 4, his wife and our 3 year old grandson.

It would have been Stephanie's 37th Birthday this coming Tuesday. It's a difficult time for us as you can imagine, we're still unsure whether we should celebrate it and if so, how? We will acknowledge the day of course, but Stephanie was never aware of her birthday, what an actual birthday was. It was just another visit from us, with a fruit shoot and something to eat, somewhere other than her home with people she trusted to be out with, but no concept of us as mum and dad or even what a mum and dad were. 

This was her 36th Birthday last year out for a meal in Gloucester.

Presents were hard as if she couldn't eat it, once it had been up to her mouth, she would just drop it on the floor or lob it, so it was clothing or toiletries. The number of times we'd all get hit with musical toys, or she'd injure herself with an ornament we'd tried buying her to make the room look nice. Her needs were very basic, but she was happy and if she was happy, then so were we.

She just liked being out, in the supermarket, with people, with music, noises, any noises, pushing a trolley, walking around and eating cake.

So that's what we'll do on Tuesday, we'll go to Caffè Nero, we'll have coffee, we'll have a slice of cake, we'll raise a fruit shoot in a toast to Stephanie, then we'll lob the fruit shoot in the air and wish her a happy birthday.

I really appreciate all the photos we have of Stephanie, I wish I had more videos. I need to plough through all the old holiday VHS soon.

We'd also appreciate your help spreading the #PoCoLo word on Twitter, tag us and we'll RT. You can find us on twitter here: Stephanie - @BosworthLife and Suzanne - @ChickenRuby 

I'll be catching up with reading your posts, sharing and commenting over the next few days. 

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In desperate need of counselling

Our daughter died in October 2024. 

There was no counselling available for 12 weeks. 12 weeks is the normal grieving time. If any support is needed in that period then contact with the GP or the Samaritans is the only support available.

I contacted private grief counsellors. They all told me the same.

I finally got hold of a psychotherapist who agreed to see me, because of the trauma I was experiencing after the death of my father in 2017.

I was having problems with this prior to our daughters death and I'd sought help, spoken to friends and Peter and written about trying to sort my head out and irrational fears about Peter dying and a feeling of impending doom. I felt that if I didn't sort my head out, I'd not be able to process Stephanie's death.

I'd been diagnosed with Generalised Anxiety Disorder in 2019 and failed to deal with it. Moving back to the UK, while Peter stayed in Dubai, covid hitting, being separated for months on end, then Peter retiring early, being hit by hotel quarantine, health scares, building work, new job, health issues and surgery with grandson, death of our dog.

Seeing the psychotherapist and having someone to talk to helped me process so much, it helped me rationalise a lot of my thoughts, breathing exercises helped me through not being able to sleep. I started to eat properly, was able to process a lot about my fathers death that I hadn't been able to, to date, but I was diagnosed with depression and went back to the GP and was prescribed medication.

The depression was put on my records. 

Just before Christmas the psychotherapist diagnosed me with PTSD and said we would start unpicking it at the next appointment. I had to cancel the next appointment due to a meeting and they were on holiday the following week, they wished me a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year via email and I haven't heard anything from them since.

In the meantime, a self referral with the NHS finally came through and I had returned to work full time, getting to the see the psychotherapist after work was going to be tricky for me. Times and days had been random, it had been ok when I was only working mornings, but I would have preferred a set time and day, but I hadn't felt confident enough to state this, even though I was paying to see them as I was just grateful that I was having regular sessions. I was also slightly uncomfortable that their spouse was in the house on a couple of visits and of course, me being me, I didn't say anything, but I do wonder if they'd read my blog and that, along with seeing that I had an appointment with the NHS and was uncomfortable with the days and times was the reason they hadn't got back in touch with me.

The NHS appointment took place over the phone. it was a 50 minute appointment. it started with me being asked if I had a driving licence, access to a car and anyone under 18 to care for, followed by questions about my childhood and what had brought me to self refer.

I'd also filled in a questionnaire pre call and I didn't feel relaxed or comfortable opening up to this level to someone who was going to decide on whether I needed any help and support at such a deep level over the phone. Within 20 minutes I was in tears, struggling to speak and I could slowly feel myself regressing with all my thoughts and feeling back to the time when Stephanie died. I stopped being honest, I needed to protect myself and all of a sudden I heard the voice on the end of the phone saying 'we're coming to the end of our 50 minutes, the thoughts and feeling you are having are common with grief and you don't qualify for counselling on the NHS' she then went on to tell me she would email a list of therapies available that I could contact and I was welcome to go try private counsellors also.

When I received the list it was group zoom calls, a list of organisations that provided online information and breavement cafes, any face to face support is too far from me with the hours I work.

In regards to finding private support, I was back to square one and when I do find a company, there's a pre appointment questionnaire, select the type of therapist you want to see, the type of treatment you want and there in lies the problem, that I don't know. I had hoped the NHS would be able to assess this, but according to them, I'm perfectly fine.

I'm not here to discuss exactly what the problems are I'm experiencing, that part I'm struggling with, that's why I need a professional to talk to, someone who can help me address the problems.

I do find writing helps me express how I am feeling about everything going on around the actual problems and maybe one day, I'll be able to publish the things I've actually written about the problems and the effects on my daily life.

The biggest problem I'm having at the moment that is impacting on my life is being able to leave the house.

I'm able to go out, go to work, meet family and friends, shop. I'm showering, eating, sleeping, doing my hair and putting make up on. Up until just before Christmas, I wasn't eating, sleeping, doing my hair or make up and was only working part time. But I'm still struggling to leave the house.

If it's just me and Peter going out on the weekend for coffee or food shopping or a trip out, we leave the house when I'm ready. I can be up and dressed and ready, but for some reason it could take me another hour or two to actually go out the door.

Going to work or an appointment is harder. I get stressed, upset, I cry, I delay, find things to do, leave it till the very last minute, then just go. I drive to the park and I sit there for 10-15 minutes and just drink my coffee and transit into work mode. I'm often late for work, but it's the only way I can get myself in.

If I'm meeting friends after work at 6 or 7 I won't come home after work, I'll go sit in the coffee shop or wander around the shops until it's time to meet them, so I don't have to go through the process of leaving home again.

Because I'm in work, getting dressed, eating and sleeping, I'm judged to be fine, not in need of any support.

But my whole inner workings just don't work the way they used to, I'm battling to hold myself together every, single day. I'm not half the person I used to be. On the outside I'm bright and getting on with things, inside I just feel so totally hopeless.

A selfie a day for a year 2024

I love setting myself a challenge. Especially when it comes to blogging. I started Project 365 in January 2015, so this is my 10th year of a photo a day, combined with a One daily Positive. I've joined in with Fat Mum Slim and BritMums photo challenges and for 2024 I've decided to take a selfie a day of Peter and I together. 

When I started putting this together we were on day 46 (15th February) and so far it's going well. Most of our photos are on the sofa or in the van and a lot of the time Peter just sighs at me, but deep down I think he likes the idea. 

I can't believe how different I can look from one day to the next depending on whether my hair is straight, up or I have my glasses on. I can tell the days I had a migraine, I look so tired.

I got to the 10th March when I gave up loading them every day and writing a description. You'll see most days. it's just a photo of us in our pjs side by side on the sofa, usually because I forgot to take a selfie while we were out. 

I'm writing this up now on January 4th 2025, for me a photo triggers a thousand memories, thoughts and feelings. Looking back at the photos has reminded me of so many things I'd forgotten about 2024. days out, meeting family and friends.

2024 was also our most difficult year as a family. Our eldest child, Stephanie died. I'm grateful for every photo I've taken over the years, despite the moaning from my husband throughout 2024, he's grateful for every photo taken, for there will be no more photos of Stephanie to take.

1st January Glastonbury.

2nd January Cheddar Gorge.

3rd January On our way home.

4th January Yep, I'm really do these selfies.

5th January Ready for bed.

6th January Local garden centre.

7th January Grandson video call.

8th January Family selfie.

9th January Sneaking a selfie in.

10th January The family that cooks together.......

11th January Lying in wait at the top of the stairs for this one.

12th January Peter refused to cooperate, so I chopped half of him out.

13th January Sneaking a selfie in.

14th January Off to the shops.

15th January He's learning new words every day.

16th January Off to work in the dark.

17th January Pushkins joining in.

18th January One of many coffee shops.

19th January Work again.

20th January Visiting child 1

21st January Other grandchild video call.

22nd January Yes, this does count.

23rd January Sofa supper.

24th January Ironing done.

25th January Not playing ball this evening.

26th January Sneaky selfie.

27th January Stonehenge.

28th January Driving home.

29th January Coffee stop.

30th January I followed him into the shed. 

31st January Another evening, another selfie on the sofa.

1st February Something made us laugh.

2nd February My Friday evening chip and wine buddy.

3rd February Child 1's 36th birthday lunch.

4th February Pink Floyd Experience.

5th February Off to work

6th February More grandson time.

7th February Migraine.

8th February Reminding hubby what a catch I am.

9th February The cat loves her cuddles.

10th February Our video call was preventing grandchild from playing in their mud pit.

11th February Barry Island

12th February Cliff top walk.

13th February Driving home.

14th February Grandson showing us his toy cars.

15th February Paperwork being sorted.

16th February Out in Birmingham

17th February Lift into town for dinner and drinks with colleagues.

18th February All doing our own thing.

19th February Migraine.

20th February Dinner time.

21st February Sneaking in a selfie.

22nd February Lift to work.

23rd February Sneaking in another selfie.

24th February A visit with child 1.

25th February Out for a walk.

26th February Off to bed.

27th February Watching TV.

28th February Lift to work.

29th February Time for a coffee.

1st March St David's Day.

2nd March Work again.

3rd March Waving 4 year old grandchild off.

4th March Shattered.

5th March Family time.

6th March Back home after an evening with colleagues at Paint a Pot.

7th March Exhausted, off to bed early.

8th March Waiting for friend to come round with chips.

9th March Off to Bath.

10th March A day of rest, feeling under the weather.

On the Ferry to Belfast

In the caravan for a long weekend

On the ferry to Birkenhead

It's taken two years but the shed is finally coming down

Our first camping trip in the van. Seaford.

Camping in Oxford.

Brighton

First BBQ of the year.

Malvern Show

Peter off to Cairo.

Looking after Olive.

Camping in Brighton.

My Birthday meal

Visit to Northern Ireland

Gruffalo Trail

Holiday to Turkey

Off to Northern Ireland

Malvern Show

Peter's birthday

Our last morning of normal and Stephanie died.

Solitude raspberry.

Marmite for Jamie

Pretty skies

call with Freddie in Spain

Melon carving with granddaughter.

Stephanie

Jamie on his way home

Gatwick

Family

Flowers for Stephanie

Taking time out to rest

Family

Gatwick

Just the two of us

A visit from our friends

Ferry to Belfast

Peter off to Turkey

With Bailey, our house guest.

Northern Ireland family come to visit.

Snowy walk up the Malvern Hills.

Viva Las Vegas.

It's been 17 years since I last saw my cousin.

Swimming in Vegas in winter.