I wonder how many of us are still with our first love.  I would be willing to bet that those of us who aren’t can remember the friend who pulled us through the heartache of the breakup.
 
But what about when it feels like one of your friends has broken your heart?
 
For me, friendship is one of the single most beautiful things in life.  My friends are my world; I am naturally a rather cynical being, but my friends are the one area of my life that I have no boundaries with.  I trust that they love me, and I love them unconditionally.

Some of the heart wrenching moments of my life have come when here have been any sort of altercation with these people, and I am (still) devastated to say there have been a couple with whom reconciliation hasn’t been achieved.
 
When this happened I felt the same aching, longing and general disbelief that I'd associated with the end of a romantic relationship .  The things that further twisted the knife was that these were not the people who were meant to make me feel like this.  These were the people who I had believed would undoubtedly be with in 60 years time, recalling stories of our past and still laughing so much we ached.
 
When you lose a friendship, it’s a strange dimension of pain.  It is not something that we can prepare for, and I believe it can be trickier to navigate through than with than a “traditional” break up.  After all, there aren’t stereotypical coping mechanisms associated with friendship breakups; there aren’t the mandatory hours allocated to eating whole tubs of Ben & Jerrys, while watching Thelma & Louise,  or the encouragement to “get a new haircut”, “overhaul your wardrobe" or " go on holiday with the girls”.
 
I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t still ache for certain people, however me saying how much I (still) love them isn’t going to help anyone out there. Instead I wanted to share a few things that I learnt as I worked through my heartbreak.

​

• Spend the spare time you suddenly have (as lets face it, a lot of daily whatsapp messages and a weekly phone call can add up!) investing in yourself.  Grab that book you kept meaning to read, practice that hobby you've been putting off until ‘tomorrow’.
• Do not, under any circumstances, enter into bitching or point scoring.  You are hurting because you love them, be sure to respect that fact and don’t mar it by lashing out.  
• As an extension of the above, don’t use social media as a channel of passive aggressive action.  Once again, "unfriending" people, blocking people, "unfollowing" people and petty comments are not cool.  They are simply detrimental to the memories you share, and to your own classiness. 
• Perhaps more importantly, the above also really dents the opportunity for a possible reconciliation.  It would be horrendous to realize that some love and friendship could have been salvaged, had you not made them out to be the she-devil to all who would listen.

 
Friendships, like ‘other’ relationships, can have bumps in the road.  What really counts is how you deal with them.  Question the bumps, grieve if needed, and then take a step forward. 
 
There is always the chance people will come back into your life when you are both ready, but even if they don’t you can still  to be thankful for all the good times.
 
Also, remember that we only hurt when we lose something we truly loved.   xx

It's that time of year again... 

No I don't mean the kids going back to school, or the fact Christmas is in the shops already.  I mean that we can dedicate Wednesday nights to Great British Bake Off (it's a justified reason to be in pjs by 7.45pm and eating cake for dinner) and that we can start to plan our visit to the Cake and Bake Shows! 

I am delighted to have been asked to be one of the official bloggers for the show again, and have already been planning my visits.  Luckily Mr BuBakes is once again available to come along with me and help me carry my goodies for the day - I remember that last year I may have had a little splurge...! 

​​With two venues (London October 7-9th and Manchester (November 10th-13th) the shows offer you a chance to be fully immersed in a cakey, bakey heaven. With demonstrations, classes, and stalls selling everything you could possibly need,  The Cake & Bake Show is the UK’s only live consumer event dedicated to the world of cakes, bakes and the art of baking, and it is the ultimate day out for both hobby and professional bakers. 

There are always some of the biggest names in the industry in attendance, and this  year is no exception.  Heading the line up are John Whaite, Rosemary Shrager  Nadia Hussain, Jo Wheatley (Yay! BuBakes does love to support a fellow Essex girl!) and Eric Lanlard.

​​Often the suppliers will have show special offers on, so it is a great opportunity to stock up on equipment and ingredients.  Some of BuBakes favourite suppliers have been confirmed, so if you want to try out some of the delights I swear by then make sure you head over to Foodie Flavours Ltd (Stand E65) ... Sugar & Crumbs (Stand E64 - it's a complete coincidence that they are next to each other - this is probably the area you will find me in, stocking up!) and please pop by to see the Help for Heroes gang at E70 (As many of you will know the first BuBakes Depressed Cake Shop popup was held in support of Help for Heroes and Mind.  If you still want to get your limited edition tea towel then it's not too late, just click here!) 

So with all this information in mind, I know you are wanting to know where you can get your tickets from.  You can book yours now here, but wait - BuBakes has the pleasure of offering not one but two pairs of tickets for each venue  for you!

How do you get your hands on these? Here's how...

The first two sets of tickets up for grabs are for the London Event.  You can enter via the BuBakes Facebook page , simply by following the instructions on the pinned post.  The competition closes at midnight (GMT) on Saturday 1st October and will be announced on Sunday morning.    

Good luck, and I hope to see you there! 

​Bu xx 

Please know this is not an attacking letter. In fact it I want it to be the opposite. I like to think that if my experiences can’t be a good example, then at the very least they can be a horrible warning.

I remember loving school. I was a complete geek. I loved the feeling when the penny dropped, and I was so eager to learn. I would be so excited when I discovered something I didn’t know. 

Then I passed my 11+, perfect right? I was in a position to learn while being surrounded by others who were similarly academic.

Unfortunately things didn’t go to plan. 

The labels I had given myself were no longer relevant. I wasn’t the bright one, the smart one, or the one classmates could ask for help.  I was average at best, and I didn’t know how to handle this fact. I had no idea who I was, and the me I thought had been special was actually a bit joke. How could I have thought I was intelligent? In fact I was so silly. 

I was an 11 year old girl who was embarrassed, and had no idea how to exist in this new surrounding. I didn’t know how to be defeated by my peers on an intellectual level, but I was defeated. This left me in a quandary. What should I do?

I had no idea what I was doing, who I was, or how I could be enough anymore. I started to carve out new labels. Initially I thought I could opt for the less academic subjects . While at junior school I had gone to a drama club after school, I took clarinet lessons, and was in orchestra, plus I was in two school choirs.   This was perfect as in my new school I had the opportunity to audition to speak at the upcoming prospective parents evening, and I was chosen (with two other girls). I was SO proud!

Shortly after this I auditioned for a part in the school play, and I didn’t get it. The only thing I thought I might be acceptable at was no longer an option.

In stepped the “Liz” that then haunted me for decades to come. 

I started to goof about, terrified of trying again and failing. I’d do homework at the last minute, do the bare minimum and I became completely disengaged. 

I started to feel the inklings of shame directed at this “new me”, and I started to loathe “Liz” for mucking up. I felt I was failing at “being at a grammer school student” and the more I felt this the further I pulled away. This started my cycle of destructive behavior. I started to arrive late, to smoke, to only care about hanging out with boys, and to carve out only person I felt I was worthy of being. Deep within me I knew I was continuing to muck up, but by now it was too late. The more I rebelled, the more I felt I was wasting opportunities and failing. The more I felt I was failing, the more I rebelled.   This started to get more dangerous; as I got further away from who I thought I was meant to be, the more I hated who I had become. 

As each term passed I would think “next term I’m going to get it right” but I would return to school and realise it was too late for me. I was too far behind, and I had carved out a persona for myself that I couldn’t change. Suddenly I was choosing GCSE choices and I went for the choices my friends were going for. As time passed I realised that I was never going to get the elusive 11A*s that others were aiming for, and I couldn’t stand the impending moment when I was going to be found out. You were all going to know once and for all that I didn’t belong there.

 Amazingly I scraped through my exams (note: in hindsight I did better than “scrape through” however I had two issues.  1. Compared to everyone else I had done terribly, and so that was all I thought you could see. 2. I’d done okay without revising, and therefore I had failed myself and messed up yet again.) and I had a couple of grades that were acceptable enough for me to take subjects at A-Level. 

At this stage I had become a real cliche. I felt like when I was in school people would be amused that I had bothered to show up, and when I wasn’t there I knew no one would really be surprised. 

Dangerously, I was at an age where I could get my hands of alcohol, and was focused on growing up and not having to continue to fail at school.  I was so desperately unhappy, but also so trapped. Perhaps more dangerously I knew I deserved it, I had carved this way for me, and I needed to man up and deal with what I had done.

I remember sitting in a history A-Level class one day, and the teacher asking why I was there. I was confused by this, then I was informed that the school was not happy with my attendance or ability and if I wanted to take the exam I would have to pay for it myself.  To this day I still remember joking with my friends that I’d have more spare time, while inside I just didn’t want to “be” anymore.  I had been so scared of being found out as a no one, that I had become someone I didn’t want to be.  

As time passed I started to realise how many chances I had screwed up. I had been so scared at failing “things” that I had failed at life. I’d like to take a moment to say that there is no blame on anyone for this going undetected. In fact, the only thing that I knew I was successful at was making sure no one knew the turmoil I had inside me. I was so ashamed and was so full of shame, and the worst thing imaginable would be for someone to see that. 

Yes, by the age of 17/18 I was an age where I was fully accountable for my actions, however what I was doing at those ages was still playing out the cycle that I had entered 7 years prior.  I’d love to say that things improved, but I actually spent the next 15 years obsessed with “making up for screwing up” . Nothing was good enough, as I had mucked up that chance that I had when I first stepped through the school gates.  This “I should have” and “I should be” contributed to my breakdown in 2014, and I have been exploring what had happened within me ever since. 

My mind had become such a tangled mess. When I was asked my reason for not fully contemplating suicide, the reason I gave was “that’s not an option - I’d probably screw it up, and then a) I’d end up in hospital – I hate hospitals and b) I couldn’t hide anymore. Everyone would know how screwed up I am. I can’t have that happen”

As I research and learn about the impact of mindset, I am bowled over by just how at risk we all are. We HAVE to learn how to fail and we HAVE to teach people shame resilience. And this is something I implore all schools to properly explore.

Children now have so many things to contend with that generations have not had before. There is now a record of what children are doing, and it is often on the internet on sites such as Facebook for the whole world to see. 

Not only is the lack of privacy a problem, but social media also means that we see others “winning” at life constantly. We have to acknowledge that social media sites are new, and that we have therefore not yet seen the impact on a whole generation growing up with them.  

If we want to educate, we need to take care of the equipment we working with – the mind. If we want to address the fact that people are more medicated, depressed, and disengaged with life and society, we need to teach people how. 
Talking about doing something about mental health is one thing, but we have to do more to introduce it as a part of education and development. Schools have a minimum amount of time they spend on physical education each week, and the same emphasis needs to be given to keeping minds healthy. 

I sometimes see children and I have to catch my breath. I now know that what happens to them while they are so young can have such a huge impact on their mental health, and that it can develop into something so sinister. I am no longer ashamed of who I am, and I am no longer scared that people may know the truth – in fact if sharing my story helps just one person in some way, then it is fully worth it.

You have read this far, and I am thankful for that. I do have 2 favours to ask of you though, and I hope that’s ok.

1. Everyone can make a difference, so please be a part of this. It may be sharing information, or even just being open to conversations about mental health. It is crucial that we educate and inform, and that we battle the stigma that is still associated.

2. This is a message that needs to be imparted to every young mind, (but from a very personal point I’d like to directly appeal now to those who may be teaching a new intake in a grammar school) Please make sure that the students know they are amazing, and should celebrate their success in getting there.

Please let them know from me:

“There will be work, challenges and lessons to overcome. You need to face these to give you opportunities in life, but please know that as a person you are already enough. Right now. As you are.”

Thank you
Liz x
​
PS - apologies for only getting the one A* in my GCSEs – I know I didn’t help the league tables that year!

As I am typing this I am on holiday.  I'm staying in Mauritius (on the north coast) and in front of me I have the sea and some palm trees swaying gently in the breeze.  I can hear waves lapping, birds chirping, and the occasional a shout of encouragement from lookers on as another brave soul attempts to water ski.
 
In short, it is bliss – there is nothing I could want for, and to look at it is exactly as I had pictured it.
 
When I thought about this break, I let my vivid imagination work through all the details and I definitely did a great job.  I am trying to practice positivity and gratitude on a daily basis, and so I’d conjured up an idyllic break away; on which I would sleep until I woke without the aid of an alarm before whiling away the days writing.  I would then spend the evenings getting dressed up, and heading out for dinner dates with my gorgeous husband.

In reality I had forgotten a couple of things...  

What actually happened was that I arrived at the resort and immediately I was on edge. I felt so clunky, but I couldn’t work out why.  I was shattered, I didn’t want to write,  I felt guilty, I thought I was being lazy, and I kept waiting for the moment when it would fall into place.  All the time I was thinking “this isn’t right.  This isn’t how it is meant to be.  What have I got so wrong?”
 
In hindsight (as is always the case) it was unavoidable.  I'd been extra busy in the weeks leading up to us going away – and I had been pushing myself.  I lost track of the times I said things like “I just need to make it until our holiday” or “I’ll catch up with myself and rest while I’m away”.  

In my attempts to be as I thought I should be, I’d forgotten that I can’t just “rest” or “relax” somewhere new.  I hadn’t been kind enough to myself, or remembered that when I am in new surroundings I panic - I have a whole host of new things to take in, worry about and process.  Without knowing it, my mind pings different thoughts and images around, and it is incredibly draining.
 
This is all text book behavior for me, and it’s interesting for me to now sit and reflect on why I hadn’t taken any of it into account.  Perhaps I didn’t feel like I had the right to struggle when I was in such a lovely setting.  Maybe I thought I could overcome my demons.  The stark reality though is that my mental health challenges do not discriminate.  They are not just part of my life when I am in some grotty threatening environment.  They do not only show themselves in a situations that other “healthy” people may feel uneasy in.  They are there for me to work through every single day, and sometimes they defeat me – even when I am sitting in the most glorious settings.

I read in one of the in-flight magazines on the way over that the average person takes 4 days to get into “holiday mode”, and once again with hindsight it is not surprising that I wasn’t able to effortlessly make the transition.  Perhaps it's time to face that one of my biggest challenges  is acknowledging that I can’t just “be” anymore.   
 
One afternoon I was so tired of battling with my own mind, so I decided to lay down and listen to an audiobook.  Having someone speaking at me for a few hours was the white noise I needed. I cleared my mind of “should” thoughts, and I was suddenly absolutely shattered. It was like I had allowed everything to crash down over me; the mental barrier I had been holding up was a floodgate for complete emotional and mental exhaustion.  The impact was so extreme that I couldn’t even function in a conversation with my husband.  We grabbed something to eat and by 7.30pm we were reading in bed.
 
This can be the problem with mental illness.  What you consider to be “the norm” is never really normal.  When you think you have it all figured out, a curve ball comes flying at you, and it can really floor you. 

​The lesson I have learnt this week has been that I am still trying to fight it.  I fought against my mind so much before I had my breakdown, and I am still learning to change that behavior.  I think that one of the reasons so many of us try to fight it and be “normal” is due to the expectation we put on ourselves.  We “should” do this, we are “supposed” to do that.  My holiday is just a tiny example and actually it is something we do every day in life.   I often wonder whether more information and communication about mental health would leave us better equipped to deal with situations that may cause obstacles, and this is a prime example.  Living with mental health concerns can very much be a case of trial and error - often with the person who is struggling doing their best not to inconvenience other people. 
 
If one of us was on holiday with a broken leg, we wouldn’t think twice about discussing what helps to make it easier.  We wouldn’t worry about having people help us, or putting people out.  So why is it that we try to “make do” with a non-physical health complaint?
 
I don’t have all the answers, but I do know that the more we speak about things the greater the understanding amongst us can be. 

I am not so naïve as to think that there will be some people who can’t help but think “what is there to complain about, she’s on holiday, she just needs to chill”, but that is why I want to put this out there.  If it challenges that mindset in just one person, then it is worthwhile.

​The more I reflect and write, the more I see how dangerous the “should” mindset is.  I want to cover it more, and it is forming a large part of the book I am working on.  For now though I’d just like to take a second and say that yesterday was World Suicide Prevention Day, and that for many the impact of how they think they “should be” can have truly heartbreaking consequences.  
 
While I know that a simple blog post cannot change the world, or take away so many people’s pain; I do promise that I will keep doing what I can.  No one out there is ever alone.

Sending lots of love 
​Bu xx 

​The weekend just gone was a sunny, warm one with clear skies and the smell of barbeques in the air.  There was one slightly unusual thing about it though – there were big patches of grey around us. 
 
No, the grey wasn’t the shadow of a “typical English summer raincloud”,  it was a Depressed Cake popup in Chelmsford, Essex, which was held alongside a grey bakes theme for Sunday Baking Club.
 
There will be another post about the popup event itself, but this post today is to celebrate some of the best “grey bakes” that were submitted on Twitter - and there really were some incredible entries!
 
Below are a few of my best bits… Choose your favourite and the winner (with the most votes by the end of Sunday 14th)  will win a BuBakes Limited Edition tea towel! 

To note, Albie and his giant meringues are not in the final cut for voting, as I didn't want to be accused of fixing anything!  Albie did want to remind you though, that you can still get your limited edition tea towel to mark BuBAkes' first (of many) Depressed Cake Shop events, and that ALL profits go to charity! 

Get yours here, and then show us all how you #BakeADifference. 

If you would like to find out more about holding your own pop up, you can visit the DCS website, or give me a shout and I'd be happy to answer any questions or help wherever I can.

​Lots and lots and LOTS of love 
Bu xx 

Last night (rather than watching the football) I found myself sitting outside a pub I’d never been to, with people I hadn’t even laid eyes on 30 hours earlier; and I found myself holding a version of a talking stick, uttering the words:
 
“I would have once scorned this.  I was so corporate, I was so controlling, I was so bitter.  I’m ashamed to say I had no idea about anything to do with mental health, and it is due to that fact I am so determined to make a difference.”
 
I still have to catch myself sometimes and recognize just how different things are for me.  It is surreal how quickly something new can become the norm, and one thing I am very aware of is that my new way of being is very different from any sort of normal.   It is scary, wonderful, challenging, and rewarding; but definitely not “normal”.   My past couple of days is a wonderful example of that.
 
Let’s rewind to Sunday…
 
I was in an unfamiliar car en route to an unfamiliar house, and I had absolutely no idea what to expect.  I had never been there before, and had never met any of the people who were going to be there.   This  can be a scary enough prospect for anyone, but when you add a dash of severe anxiety into the mixture you have a recipe for complete terror. I had a strange security blanket though, I had communicated online with some of these people, and I knew I was going to a safe place – this is because I was heading to meet some of the faces behind the Depressed Cake Shop.
 

​A big day was looming, as the next day we were headed to the BBC All in the Mind awards, where Depressed Cake Shop was nominated for an award.  It was suggested that we get together the night before, and as I was making my way across London I realized that I was wishing we hadn’t made that decision.  Had we not decided to meet that night, I was acutely aware that I could have put off the anxiety inducing moment for another 24 hours.
 
Clutching my empty suitcase (ready to be filled with DCS merchandise) and a box of cupcakes (naturally!) I rang the bell.  I don’t know about you, but sometimes I convince myself to do something, only to then find that the second I have done it I want to run away - ideally before before anyone knows I have done whatever I pushed myself into doing. 

​This was one of those moments. 

​While I was trying to calculate whether I could make a run for it in time without tripping over my suitcase or dropping the cupcakes (both would obviously be a complete giveaway!) the door opened.  There was no going back.
 
I had a complete blank as to what I should expect, but at the same time my anxiety had concocted a million different possibilities - each more terrifying than the last.  Instead what followed was an evening containing laughter, inspiration, understanding and a real sense of belonging. 
 
Don’t get me wrong, I can still recall vividly the moments when I could feel myself babbling. I can instantly revert back to the cringe-worthy fear  that I was bumbling through conversations, or that people were just “being polite” as they smiled and nodded. 

The beautiful thing is that I also remember feeling that it was all going to be ok.  I can remember the tones of people's voices as they spoke about why they were so passionate in doing what they do, and I can feel that little ache that you get when you laugh harder than you can control.  We had been looked after as guests so wonderfully, but it was more than that – we were also made to feel genuinely welcome, and that we could relax and be ourselves.  It felt like we were all in it together, even though I'm not totally sure what "it" was.

​As I headed back to my hotel I was thinking about how the DCS really is a family.  We are all so individual, and have our own reasons for doing what we do in our own way; but we also have a tie that holds us together and it is more meaningful than a simple hobby or shared interest.
 
When I arrived back at the hotel I parked up in the bar with a glass of wine, and I forced myself to reflect.  I wanted to take a moment to really digest what had happened that evening.  Not only the joy I had felt, but also the fact that I had been able to put myself into that position.  It hadn’t been easy, and I still had those “argh, why did I say that?!” moments to contend with; but it had been entirely worth it.  It had given me something that I couldn’t have bought, or whittled out from any other situation.  It had to have been those exact people, in that exact setting.  
 
Sometimes when we lose control of our minds, it can be scary to think about the future.   We can worry about whether we will always feel this way, and we compare what we do now with what we could do before. Back in 2010 I didn’t think twice about jumping on a plane on my own to go to New York and meet some girlfriends for cocktails (true story!) - I had the finances to do it, I had the care-free attitude to do it, and I had the guts to do it.  At the time I had no idea just how much I was taking those three things for granted.  In comparison, going for dinner seems rather a small thing, and that is why I knew I needed to stop and give myself credit.  It can be so easy to assume that because something was once easy we’d be silly to celebrate it, but it’s these little victories that make the difference.  It is these victories that show we are not giving up, and that we won’t allow an illness to get the better of us.
 
I woke yesterday and was immediately looking forward to seeing these amazing people again.  Not only that, but we were off to the awards! 

​We arranged to meet for a quick drink, and it was mid afternoon that I realised there were going to be some new people for me to meet.  This in turn meant more new people to be terrified of, and to worry about looking a fool in front of! I

told myself that it would be ok, and that the previous evening was proof of that fact.  However, logic that we want to apply becomes as useful as a chocolate teapot when anxiety is in the mix.  I found myself sitting in my hotel room, having to work hard to hold my nerve and not crawl back under the covers. 
 
I made it out from my room, something you may have deduced if you have been paying attention - as you know that I ended up holding the talking stick (which incidentally was an Anxiety Blob. Mine is called Albie, but more about him in a moment). 

I'm happy to report back that it was a great thing that I made it out; I can also report that the people I met last night were absolutely delightful, and further proof of the incredible people that DCS attracts. 
 
As I type this I am (as usual) recalling the moments when I stumbled over words, stumbled over my own feet, and stumbled in general.  I am also aware that those moments don't matter and are not the overriding memory I associate with the evening.  

This is because I also have been left with a genuinely magical feeling from what has happened over the past two days.   

Whats more, I am even more determined to keep trying to raise awareness and knowledge of mental health, and to fight that stigma associated with it.   Besides, I’ve promised I will do so to the DCS crew, and I can’t break a promise – they’re family. 

​I’m guessing you may want to know if we won the award.  Tune in to Radio 4 at 9pm tonight to find out...
 
In the meantime, thank you for reading, thanks to the whole DCS family for letting me be a part of something so wonderful, and to the BBC and The Wellcome Collection  for hosting the event, which promoted our relationships from being virtual to face-to-face.

​If you want your very own Anxiety Blob, they are created by Sweatpants & Coffee & handmade by Fleece Menagerie.  These grey ones are limited edition – make sure you get yours from www.depressedcakeshop.com asap!  

​Also, don't forget BuBakes is holding a Depressed Cake Shop popup on August 7th.  More details here. 

​Huge love
Bu (and Albie!) xx 

Two years ago yesterday I imploded.  

I was rushed to the doctor, and then I hid in a flat on my own for weeks. Each time I tried to leave it, I found I couldn't.  Each time I tried to speak to someone, I found I couldn't.  Everything seemed to crumble, until the only thing I was left with in the dark was me.  The problem was, I hated me.  The only way was up.

As I reflect on the two years, it would be easy to still think of the things I miss out on due to my illnesses.  I could think about the salary I don't earn, the nights out I can no longer enjoy, the phone calls I can no longer bring myself to make. 

I could think about the days when I can't see anything other than a cloud of grey, and when I am convinced that people are only in my life due to some sort of perverse Truman Story obligation. 

I could think about the 7 attempts it has taken to get my meds right, each one with weeks of a gruelling "limbo" as I knew I had to give it time and allow it to get worse before it could get better.  Each time when it didn't get better I would have to start again, embarking on another downward path that may or may not be "the right way". 

I could reflect on my 4 different courses of therapy (three different sorts!) or on the several ‘friends' I have lost.  

I could let myself flash back to hearing phrases from people I thought I could trust, such as “I’ve had other friends with mental health problems and they’ve not acted like you” and “you’re just using this as an excuse“.

Excuse my french, but FUCK THAT!   Instead, today I have been focusing on the brighter side... 
 
Since I imploded I have:

• Met some truly phenomenal people, who believe more in me than I do myself; and have helped me to develop a faith in life and people that I never dared trust in before.
• Discovered a creative streak that I had repressed since I left primary school.
•  Turned to writing to try to express the plethora of nonsensical thoughts in my mind.
• Developed my new creative side into being a fully functioning business, which grows along side me, and also allows me to focus on my recovery.
• Had my baking critiqued (positively!) by Michel Roux Jnr, and my writing endorsed by Stephen Fry.
• Raised almost £1000 for Mind

 
 What felt like the end for me, has turned in to the end of a life I would never wish to go back to, and the beginning of a new me.   A less perfect me. 
 
Now I am:

• A me who still hides under a blanket some days, unable to even venture out to shower, but that is ok.
• A me who enjoys accepting where I am each day while I practice yoga and still can’t touch my toes, instead of a me who beats myself up each day for not being fit enough on a cross trainer.
• A me who forgives and learns, instead of holding grudges and wallowing in denial.
• A me who understands that when I thought I had control I was actually being controlled. Previously I would plan as much as I could – to the next minute, day and even year.  Now I am fine about the fact I can barely plan anything as I know that any moment I could slip into a “bad patch”.
• A me who has learned to be open.  I used to think vulnerability would make me needy, now I have no choice but to be vulnerable - and my relationships have deepened drastically.

 
I don’t know what will happen over the next two years, but I do know that what I previously thought was the end turned out to be completely the opposite.   
 
To quote from one of my favourite songs:

​​Thank you for reading my various blogs, and here’s to the ones that are still lurking  and haven’t been written yet.

​Bu xx

I am Liz, I am Bu, I am LizBu, I am Liz Burnett (maiden name) I am Liz Fox (married name), I am wifey-face (pet name from my hubbie-face) I am Elizabeth (used by my brother, who I still call Stephen, even though everyone else seems to call him Steve).
 
I am NOT anxiety.  I am NOT Depression.  These are things I have, not things that make me who I am.
 
It has taken a long time (over 30 years) for me to work out what it means to be true to yourself, and to discover your own identity.  Having been given labels from when I was still in single figures of age, I attached myself to them and I became solely made of them.  When I went from being “a smart one” in primary school to a sea of “smart ones” in a secondary grammar school I had no idea what to do.  I lost who I was, and so I started to grab to any sort of identity I could.  Unfortunately it was the wrong one, but that aspect of my life deserves it’s own post so I will delve into it on a later date.

Until then just remember... 

​Fast forward over 20 years and I am starting to get to know the spirit of me.  I am starting to see what I can do, and I am starting to love spending time with me.    This is wonderful, a true blessing – but then I have a day when I can’t get out of my front door or speak to anyone, and I start to freak out.  Where has that spirit gone? Why can’t I live the life I want to?
 
The problem with mental health issues is that they are a health issue… I know, you would think the name of it would give that away; yet it is still amazing how ignorant so many of us are to them and what they actually mean.  I put myself in the ‘ignorant but becoming less so’ category. I am still learning, and know I will continue to do so for the rest of my life.
 
So when you are faced with a challenge that takes over so many aspects of your life, how do you stop it from defining your life? Most importantly how do you stop it defining who you are?
 
It’s taken me a while to work through these things I am going to share with you.  They each involved their own lessons that I had to learn for myself, but they all help me remain ME on the days I feel anything but the spirited individual I know I truly am.
 
1.  Acceptance. 
We have to accept things that you cannot change.  There is no point driving yourself crazy on the things you cannot change, you are wasting time and energy that could be spent working out how to make the best of a situation.
 
We can develop ourselves, we can strive to grow and learn, but we cannot change who we are at any given present time.
 
When I brush my teeth each day I look myself the eye and I say “I accept me as I am right now”.

I also put something in place to be able to smile a little when I am accepting a bad day.  I recently bought this top from PINK, and when I am having a day when I just have to admit I will not be venturing past the threshold I pull it on.  It is my way of saying “ok, you know you won’t do it, that is allowed.”  This makes me feel safer as when I pull it on I am pulling on acceptance, and I have a barrier against guilt or shame associated with my restrictions.

​2.  Just because something is made for use outside the home, doesn’t mean you have to use it outside the home.  These cups are my favourite example.

I LOVE these Kate Spade cups for so many reasons.  The main one should be obvious (and if you don’t get the instant link I’d love to know how you found this blog post – as it clearly wasn’t via a cake related source!)  but I also love that they are bright, simple, and just utterly beautiful.
 
I use these at home on my tougher days, because they make me feel good.  Also because if I was going to be out and about I would use them, so why should I stop doing something that makes me feel awesome just because I’m not in my car driving somewhere or wandering around the shops.  It is the essence of what you love that makes you who you are – so embrace that no matter where you are.
 
​
3.  Be savvy…
 
I know that I need to go out sometimes to get bits and pieces (90% of the time it seems to be butter, maybe I should just buy a cow.)  so when I am able to get out and about I use that time to “stock up” on my ‘outside errands.  I pop to see a friend, I nip for a coffee with my folks and I stock up on butter.
 
Then when I have a day when I am stuck I look at what can be on my radar that day.  It might be listing my receipts and finances, or I may update the photos on my website.  I might sit down and write, or I may work on some fondant detailing for upcoming cake commissions.
 
If I am unable to bring myself to do anything then I let that happen too, but the trick is to have some “housebound bits” that are there to be done if I’m stuck inside and I can face it.  In turn this takes away the feeling of missing out, and it eliminates the thought of being useless as I can’t even take the bins out.  I have tasks to do that would have needed doing anyway, so I’m being useful and I am still contributing to my life.  I am still being ME.
 
I use special stationary (check out these beauties below, all made by Knock Knock) for making these lists, as this is means I am using something special that really makes my heart sing.  Once again using things that I know I love helps me keep my sprit alive on darker days.

4.  Let someone know.
 
This was one of the hardest things for me, but now if I am having a bad day I will let Mr. BuBakes know.  Not because I expect him to fix it, but because I want to be a kind and considerate wife.  I want him to know that he may come home to a struggling wifey-face.  I think it is fair to say it has taken a lot from both of us to work out how this can work for us, but now if he knows I have been struggling in the day he will come home and give me a hug before making me a cuppa.  He knows he can’t solve it or take it away, and we both accept that fact.
 
The real game changer here is that just by making him aware and giving him a little heads up, there is that bit of “me” that is making contact with him.  That simple one line of communication “just so you know I’m having a rough day” shows the considerate side of me that I never want to lose, it also makes a connection and automatically you are in it together, and I find this helps me stop the illness defining who I am and how I treat those around me.

5.  I use essential oils. 
​
If I am having a low day I will diffuse some essential oils into my home.  I will choose something uplifting such as wild orange or lime, which is zesty and helps reduce the cabin fever aspect of being stuck indoors.
 
There is something to aid with every feeling and I genuinely feel blessed that I have discovered them.   As I like to share my experiences of them with others, I also feel I keep the connection with my true self when I use them  - again this helps me remember that I am still me.

You can check out the awesome range by Doterra on my very own online store link.
 

​​I hope those have helped someone out there a little.  It is difficult to keep a connection with yourself when you are overcome by something invisible and all consuming – but I promise you there are ways to help.
 
I would always recommend putting a few things in place when you are having a good day, this also recognizes that you will have bad days and you know it – but that you accept it, and you know you are worthy of helping yourself through those days.
 
They say singing is incredibly therapeutic, so lets end this on a high note.

​All together now…
 
"It's my world that I want to have a little pride in
My world and it's not a place I have to hide in
Life's not worth a damn
Until you can say I am what I aaaaaaaam..."

Take care
Bu xx 
​

The world is breathtakingly beautiful.  Seriously.  It’s incredible.
 
I have been on a plane for 10 hours now, and it never fails to amaze me that no matter how often I look out of a window when flying I still feel like I am frozen in time. I feel so small when I look at how huge the world is below me, and I feel so empowered to know that there are so many possibilities down there that I can be a part of.
 
Sometimes when we are in the thick of life we can easily get caught up in the drama and lose sight of what we may see if only we could step back (or up, in my current case!)
 
Today I glanced out of the window and realized I was flying over the Arctic.  It was stunning. Seriously stunning. I hurriedly tried to take a half decent photo, but none could really capture just how gorgeous it was.   Now lets stop and think about this.  If I had been down there I would have been rather chilly, rather lost, and a pretty unhappy bunny.  However just because the habitat isn’t for me didn't lessen it’s beauty. 

In a way it actually magnifies it.

A couple of hours later I glanced out again, and saw the beautiful snowy landscapes of Canada.  With the glorious twists and turns to me it looked like something from Narnia. 

​Another 30 minutes passed, and my view was this:

​ 
It would be easy to just put the shutter on the window back down and hope that the cloud cleared soon, but I think there is actually something magical about this view.  Even though I couldn’t see it, I knew there was something beautiful beneath the clouds.  How fantastic is that? It would have been under a huge layer of “blockage” and almost 7 miles away, but it was still there.  I couldn’t see it, but I knew it.
 
Then something else caught my eye.  A little mountain, peeking through the clouds.  It is only the top of one mountain, but there it was – my link to the beauty below. 

​ It got me thinking about how often there is something of beauty to find around us, even when it feels like life is just one big cloud. 
 
I’m off to see what else I can pot from my little window over the world, and no matter what is there I am going to try my best to be mindful, and appreciate it for what it is.
 

​
​I wonder what you can currently see through your little window...   I’d love to know.

​Love as always
​Bu xx

​

The sessions were tough but my counsellor Jan was very supportive and knowledgeable. Over the weeks I began to understand that this reluctance to confront things was part of the problem. I couldn't control strong emotions like that forever, the stress was killing me. But the real issue from this first experience was downright fear of change, fear that all these fine brick defences of mine would crumble and leave a poor, frightened little thing out in the open for the first time with nothing to protect her from all the bad stuff. So I dealt with the surface problems on this occasion, because I felt safe doing that. But there was more to come unfortunately. 

Over the last few years I've developed two nasty immune system illnesses and their associated secondary conditions. I am now disabled, need a wheelchair or scooter to get around and have such severe fatigue and pain that I have to rest most of the time. 

As the physical illnesses progressed I fought with everything I had to keep going, to keep working, as I loved my job and the people I worked with, but it just couldn't be done. When I finally accepted the medical advice and was signed off I had lost so much of my life that I didn't see the point of me any more. I enjoyed working, I was good at it, I was valued but I couldn't do it any more. I loved walking, going to the gym, dancing madly and gardening, couldn't do any of them. I was housebound and had nothing to occupy my time. 

Depression hit. For six months I couldn't see a way out of the darkness, the losses were so great they took me over, despite the love and support I had from husband, family and friends. But because I had been there before, learned that all important lesson that help was out there if I asked for it, I knew there was a way out, and I asked for help. Again it wasn't easy, nothing ever is with depression. It took time for me to acknowledge that it was back again, and it needed an expert's help in exactly the same way that my immune diseases did. It was tough as hell dragging myself out to counselling when my body and mind just wanted to stay at home and keep everyone away. Luckily my counsellor this time, Angela from MIND, was brilliant and with her help I was able to confront the new and the long buried issues and have the courage to start letting the bigger and longer buried emotions out. I knew it could be done because I'd done some of it before, if that makes sense. 

In fact I have come to realise that the very "strength" which had built my brick wall was in fact my greatest weakness. If I could approach things from a different angle, maybe I could use that same strength to help me to change things. I could choose to use my determination and willpower to fight this black dog of depression, to take bricks off that wall one by one and both protect and encourage healthy emotional reactions to loss. I could even use my famous will, or strength, to let myself feel those emotions a bit at a time, at a pace that was right for me. I'm still learning how to do this, and understanding that each battle won in mental health recovery is a victory. 

So to answer the question of what is strength to me, it's realising that what is popularly perceived as "weakness" can actually the best kind of strength......to ask for help and learn how to cope better during the times when depression bites. Because it waxes and wanes just like many other illnesses, and there probably will be a next time. 

I'm hoping that what I learnt along the way, what helped me immensely, may be of use to someone else so I've listed some tips, thoughts and sources of support below. 

• You don't have to go to the doctor to request help with depression or any mental health 
  condition. I know some people don't want it on their record or don't feel capable to talking to their doctor. The charity MIND offers a self referral process through their website, where you can download a form and send it off to them, to kickstart the process of finding the right person to talk to. http://www.mind.org.uk 
• If you can, talk to a friend you can rely on to support you about what you're doing. If you're in a place where you don't want to talk in person, there is a marvellous website called 7 Cups of Tea which offers online support in the form of private chat rooms. http://www.7cups.com/depression- help-online/ 
• For anyone struggling with major life changes and feeling that there is nowhere to turn, the Samaritans can help 24 hours a day. 
• Small goals are great. Celebrate your successes however tiny they might be to others......to you they can be huge. I have taken up knitting, which calms and occupies me, and everything I knit is, to me, a big achievement. If I walk five steps more today than I did yesterday, that's fantastic. 
• If your illness is severe and you are off work for a time, there are ways to help yourself feel good and do something worthwhile. I found several sites which promote something called micro- volunteering, which is all about small, quick things you can do which will help other people. Most will take only minutes to do and allow you to participate only when you are well enough. As an example, I have answered short surveys for companies working on finding ways to improve all sorts of illnesses and conditions, played a computer game to help researchers improve methods of learning, as well as making knitted cats for the Cat Protection League to sell. Type micro volunteering into Google and happy hunting. 
• Counsellors see people like you several times a day, every working day. They are the best source of help you can get, they really have seen it all before and they never, ever judge you. Their prime objective is to support you when you're ill and help you get better. Please don't be afraid of going to see one. If you find you don't get on with them, ask to see someone else. 
• Music was a huge source of support for me, as it is very much linked to emotions. I realised I'd stopped listening to music for long periods of time for that reason, but now I take it a song at a time. Other sources of help include meditation, alternative therapies, massage, reiki......try them until you find something that works for you, that makes you feel better. 
• Depression is caused by a chemical imbalance in the brain. No one yet knows what causes it definitely, but long periods of stress and anxiety or failure to cope with grief, can start it off. It is an actual illness, and there is therapeutic and medical support available to conquer it. It's estimated that one in six people will suffer from mental health issues at some time in their lives. Seeking help for those problems is absolutely the same as for physical ones, and if your doctor doesn't support you in that, find another one. 

You may well come across those who tell you to pull yourself together, who will make it clear that they have no time for such things, that you could stop feeling like this if you choose, that it's really annoying for others when you have to change plans. I know the correct and saintly way to respond would be to acknowledge that everyone sees things differently and they just need to be educated, but......I have to call it as I see it and say that they're damn selfish. Their lives must be focused primarily on themselves and their experiences, as their reaction to your illness is to only see things from their own point of view and only in terms of the way it affects them. So really it's they who have the problem, not you. Don't give them squatting rights in your head. 

​Let's finish with the reason for writing this blog. There should be nothing wrong in talking about mental health openly, but we aren't there yet. Finding and accepting the help you need with mental health issues is made harder by that one fact alone. If you mention that you're depressed, most people don't really know how to respond. You don't necessarily want to be labelled with a mental health condition at work, or with friends, so you keep quiet. So therefore it's not unusual to think that no one else will understand, that you're on your own in this and you can't ask anyone for advice in dealing with things. 

This state of affairs is not something one person can change on their own. But just talking openly about mental health or your experiences with it can really help. Every person who says, "Yes, I've suffered from depression (or whichever illness you have) and I know what it's like", can help others in all sorts of ways. Just writing this blog has been a catharsis for me. What is wonderful about Liz's website, ethos and blog is that it actively promotes awareness of mental health issues, and turns something negative into something positive, by showing that you are not on your own, that others' personal experiences can help you and encourage you to seek help with less fear. 
​
Thanks for reading this, and I hope that some of the coping mechanisms and thoughts that helped me can help someone else. If you have your own brick wall and can't see a way out, I hope you've been reassured that there are many good people out there who can help you dismantle and rebuild it in safety. Just use your strength to ask.