health

BMI…The Be All, End All of Fertility

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Who would have thought that BMI could dictate so much in life…for something that was created in the 1800s by a man who was a mathematician, not even a scientist/doctor/physician, it has an insane amount of power when it comes to whether you are eligible for fertility treatments or not.

So lets look at the history of BMI…a Belgian man in the 1800s developed what was known as the Quetelet Index. It was used to find the ‘ideal man’ or ‘socially ideal human person’. He measured thousands of men (all Caucasian western European men) and compared them to find the ideal weight. He found that weight typically increased in relation to the square height of men. It did not measure the health of the individuals but only the height and the weight.

Notice anything weird in that? Fertility is measured using a scale that was used to measure men…not women…men…and definitely didn’t factor in the health of the men…

The history then carries on…in the 1970s an American physiologist and dietician used the Quetelet’s Index as a way to quickly screen for obesity. Exactly in the same way as in the 1800s…the test was done on thousands of ‘healthy’ men from 12 different sample groups.

So again…the test is done on men…not women…it also doesn’t take into account the health of the individuals. Its a known fact that muscle weighs more than fat…so in that regards, most elite athletes are classified as ‘overweight’ according to the BMI scale.

So here I am…a 31 year old who definitely isn’t in the best shape of her life…life has thrown me so many curveballs that doing exercise, etc, was far off my agenda. Not only have I had 2 major operations on my womb in the last 5 years…I also have EDS (Ehlers Danlos Syndrome) so I’m super hypermobile and all my joints dislocate and tear easily. After my second operation in 2022, I started walking to try and lose weight for the wedding…and after a successful couple weeks, I end up injuring my foot…didn’t even feel it happen…just one day I could barely put any weight on my foot. Now luckily my fiancé is a runner and is very used to foot injuries, so he reassured me it would be a couple weeks/months and it should be better…but…EDS…the joys…its now 6 months later and I’ve been to the GP…my foot feels like it re rips every couple days…So now I’m being referred to the muscular skeletal department to get a scan done and might need an operation to fix whatever I’ve done to my foot.

Now you might be wondering what that has to do with fertility. Well…after 6 months of trying, the GP wanted to discuss how its all going for me…you have to remember that I have had 2 major operations and still have fibroids in my womb. So time is not on our side. We have all our tests done and the only outcome is that we will be referred to the fertility clinic for further help.

This is where BMI comes in…I am 5ft2 (155cm) and weigh 84kg after having lost some weight after my recovery. I know I am not thin or fat. I know I am average. But according to the fertility clinic, I am too fat to get pregnant. They gave me a website to get some support and the ideal weight they want to be…let me tell you, when I logged into the website and saw what they wanted me to weigh…I burst into tears and laughed at the same time! 51kg…51! so I would need to lose 33kg!!! I went onto the BMI calculator and their ‘healthy ideal weight’ for me is between 44.4kg and 60.1kg…44kg…like what!? I don’t think I’ve weighed 44kg since I was a kid!

I have been on a calorie deficit diet for months now and still struggling to lose weight. The GP reassured me that that’s an unfortunate side effect of EDS. But its still frustrating when they want me to lose that 33kg before being taken seriously with the fertility clinic. The support that they gave me was vouchers to go on slimming world…which does NOT work for me. I refuse to lose the weight in an unhealthy, unmanageable way for me.

So what now?

I’m stuck…I’m lost…I’m frustrated…

Here I am…31 years old…struggling to lose weight, not getting any support from the fertility clinic…and yet…everyone around me is getting pregnant…every week I see posts of pregnancy announcements…and no matter how happy I am for them…it breaks my heart a little more each time…especially when they weigh the same, or even more than me…but I’m too fat to get pregnant.

Infertility is a lonely and frustrating journey. A year of negative tests, a year of trying to work on myself to be in a better position and just getting knock back after knock back. A year of taking all the supplements recommended to me by my GP and Surgeon. A year of changing my diet to help in whatever way I can. Nothing to show for it…Yes I’ve lost 4kg in the last couple months…but I’ve been struggling to lose more…

If you know someone who is struggling and frustrated…its not personal if they need time away from you if you just announced your pregnancy…its the fact that we are being let down by healthcare around the world. All because a guy in the 1800s did a ‘test’.

BMI is a silly concept that I wish would disappear. Too many GPs agree that it should never be about weight when you are trying to conceive and need help. And yet…here we are in 2023 and BMI is the only thing they use to say whether you are a good candidate to be helped or not…

I started today with doing gentle exercises that will hopefully help…I am trying to keep my head up…but its ok not to be ok…

Can You Have a Midlife Crisis At 31?

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I grew up seeing Hollywood tell us that the 30s are when we are ‘thirty, flirty and thriving’…well one thing I am certain of…I am not thriving! I’m sat here at my PC, with no real direction in life.

Lets rewind a little…So last year, I turned 30…and I started it in the hopes of having the best decade of my life! That all came crashing down on me when I found out that I needed another major surgery (you can read about it in my ‘living with a hidden…not so hidden illness’ series). This meant that I spent the majority of last year preparing for the surgery, having the surgery and then the long process of recovering from the surgery. To be completely honest, it kicked my butt! It was an incredibly hard process and mental battle to overcome the trauma, physically and mentally.

But here I am in 2023…31 years old…my small business not doing well…looking for a part time job but being either overqualified or underqualified…not sure where to go career wise. Completely having a crisis…

I see all my friends with their successful careers and knowing what direction their life is going in, feeling so proud of them and yet re-evaluating my situation and just feeling lost. The field I studied in, since COVID, has just fallen flat. Oh and the small issue of not living near the ocean to actually work feasibly in my field. So then the question is…what field do I go in to? What interests me? And that is where the crisis really started. The only answer I kept coming up with, was something creative…something like my small business…but as I mentioned before… Tap & Co is not doing well…

So then what?

  • Retail – worked in that for a year and a half and couldn’t really see a career path for me plus working weekends sucked!
  • Hospitality – Worked in that a few times now and same as in retail, weekend work…and the hours were rough!

Here is where I am struggling…Do I just take any office based job and just suck it up to make a bit of money and a career for myself. Or do I keep looking to find something I enjoy? I know I’m extremely privileged in the sense that my fiancé is able to support both of us with his job until I find something, but with the wedding looming, I want to help…I also hate not working…I mean I am daily making stock for Tap & Co and posting on socials etc for it…but with it not doing well, maybe I miss being successful…

Life hasn’t been the easiest the last 10-15 years for me. My health made it incredibly difficult to have a sense of a ‘normal’ life, so it’s only natural that I am jealous of those who didn’t have those issues and are in a great career. But I want to better myself. I want to find a career I enjoy, help pay for the wedding and start thriving.

I always thought a midlife crisis happened in your 50s…but I took a cold hard look at my life in the last couple months and I can honestly say that I am having a crisis at 31…so maybe its a 1/3rd life crisis?

Whatever your situation is…maybe you’re thinking of a completely different career, maybe like me, you don’t know where to start. That’s okay…it’s okay not to know what direction your life is going in…it’s okay to take the time to figure it out! One day we will look back at this time and laugh (hopefully), and we will be thriving no matter your age! So here’s to the rest of my 30s where I will be thriving!

Keep your head up! We have got this!

Living with a hidden (not so hidden) illness…part 7

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Living with fibroids is hard. Not matter the size, they affect everything. Some won’t know they even have them, but a lot will have the symptoms but just think ‘oh it’s just a heavy period’ ‘oh it’s just how it is for me’ etc. They are sneaky hidden tumours that can affect so much.

Yes we got great news last year in regards to how my operation and recovery went. But the new hurdle has started. Having fibroids and having had 2 open myomectomies, my womb is weaker and this means that it’ll be harder to get pregnant.

I left off in the last blog that we were trying. Well its been 9 months now with no success. I know that that doesn’t mean a lot yet, as it takes on average a year of trying before women get pregnant. What has been the hardest throughout this though is social media. The targeted ads, the posts of friends with success, the celebrities announcing their good news, and more targeted ads.

Its been tough…seeing others get what you want is really hard. Of course I’m elated for anyone who gets pregnant and want the best for them, but if I’m completely honest…I’m jealous. The targeted ads however, hit a raw nerve. The constant ads for maternity clothes or fertility stuff or baby items…no matter how many times I hide it or say I’m not interested…my feeds on facebook, instagram and tiktok are still filled with it. Meaning I can never forget about it…I can never put struggling with infertility behind me. I am constantly reminded of it.

The monthly cycle of being optimistic and then the crushing reality when the symptoms of a period appear…it takes it out of you. Months fly past and the disappointment and emotions don’t get any less, but my frustration grows. Not so much at the situation we’re in, but the fact that I’m getting annoyed every month. I am trying to relax as much as I can and to not think about it. But the regular calls with the GP and fertility clinic, the medication every day, the diet, the products I need to stay away from now (antihistamines!!!!!), my entire lifestyle has changed in order for us to have the best shot possible. So its hard to ignore the situation, and lonely.

We, women, don’t talk enough about infertility. It affects so many of us and yet we all feel alone. Is it because we ‘shouldn’t’ be talking about it? a taboo topic? or just that we feel let down by our bodies? I know for myself, I feel ashamed…our bodies and cycles are made to be able to get pregnant…and no matter what…we just keep getting negative test after negative test. Its a very lonely journey which is really hard to talk about.

I don’t have the answer…I wish I did…I’m learning to be more open about how I’m feeling to Steve (my fiancé) and to my friends. Some are unfortunately also in the same boat as me, and that has helped. One thing I have massively learnt throughout this all is that our feelings are valid. It is completely valid to feel jealousy of another when you want that so badly but cant for some reason. It is valid to feel sad when the period symptoms start at the end of the cycle. It is valid to cry when the period starts and you mourn another month of not being pregnant.

I don’t know what the future has in store for Steve and I. I don’t know if a baby is in our future. I don’t know how long it might take. All I know is that I have faith and Steve has faith that one day it will happen for us. Whether it is through natural means, IVF or through adoption. One day we will be parents and we will love that child unconditionally. But until then, doing little bits here and there to help relax and to try and focus on other things in our life. Luckily we have a wedding to plan for (which is a whole other stress and story!!!) which is helping to take our minds off things. For now the fibroids are under control and have shrunk for the first time ever. I will be monitored for the next few years to make sure that they don’t grow. We know that a hysterectomy is still on the horizon, but for now its further away than we initially thought.

Fertility/infertility is not easy. But you are not alone and your feelings are valid. We’ve got this!

Living with a hidden (not so hidden) illness…Part 5

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So it has been a couple years since my last blog post and I wish I could say that I was done with this story…Unfortunately that is not the case.

Rewind to late 2020 and I started noticing that it was becoming uncomfortable to lie on my stomach and that something didn’t feel right. After some badgering by my other half, I begrudgingly called the doctor to make an appointment. Fast forward to the start of 2021 and Covid is still in full swing meaning that doctors appointments are just phone consultations at first. It didn’t take long for the doctor to realise that I need to go back for another ultrasound.

After my surgery they had given me around 5 years before the fibroids reappeared but here I was…2 1/2 years after my operation and knowing something was wrong. It took a little time for my ultrasound to happen and the nerves were definitely high. At this point my womb had started growing again and the familiar signs were back, however I tried to stay positive and had thought that maybe it was just adhesions after the operation. However, no matter how much you try to stay positive…sometimes your gut feeling is just too strong.

Summer of 2021 and it was time for my ultrasound…with Covid still being around, no one could go in with me, so I had to stay strong. It was apparent very quickly though that it was worst case scenario…the fibroids were back and there were already 2 large fibroids. The lady doing the ultrasound was super sweet and reassuring because as you can imagine…I didn’t take the news well…I was fighting tears and feeling numb at the same time. Not only were the fibroids back and large…but they also told me that I probably had about a year or 2 to have a baby in with minimal risk. Those that know me, know that I would love to become a mum one day and have dreamt about it for a long time.

It has been several months now since the scan and in all honesty, I am still numb…I am still coming to terms with the news. What made it harder for me was that I had just started my relationship with my other half a couple weeks before the first lockdown in the UK and just over a year later we get the news of the fibroids. I had gotten myself so worked up on the drive over to him and was so scared that that was going to be it for us. But luckily he took it as well as could be expected.

Now here we are, at the end of 2021…I have just had an MRI a couple days ago and we are staying positive for the year 2022 that we’ll be able to either have a baby safely or have some form of treatment that gives us some extra time. I am still numb and still beat myself up occasionally but there are more positive thoughts and hope for the future.

So yes, my fibroids are back and that sucks, but there is hope…and that’s what we are holding on to. Here’s to a great 2022!

Living with a hidden (not so hidden) illness…Part 4

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   So here I am…3 months after my surgery. I wish I could say that it was all plain sailing and that I’m doing great. Unfortunately, that hasn’t been the reality at all.

Recovery at Home:

   After I got home, I genuinely thought that recovery would be a whole lot faster. And it did…to an extent…I no longer heard women vomiting at all hours of the day…I was no longer sleeping on a plastic bed…I had my own bathroom again.

   But you know what? Getting on and off the sofa is really hard if you don’t have someone to help you! Using the stairs was an absolute pain and climbing in and out of the shower (we have a shower head over a bath tub…) was again, only possible if I had some help. I was literally living the invalid life. I couldn’t do anything without help.

   My poor parents gave up their bed for me as I couldn’t climb into mine (I have a mid-sleeper (similar to this…https://amzn.to/2Hagjco). So whilst I couldn’t use my stomach muscles…that bed was impossible to get in to! But it was a goal I could set myself…I gave myself two weeks, optimistic I know…but I managed it!

Stitches:

   The part that I dreaded the most was getting my stitches removed. Well, stitch. I had one running stitch with a bead on either end. I had had multiple nightmares about waking up and having pulled my stitch out in my sleep…but luckily that never happened. Instead, 10 days later I found myself at the hospital (unfortunately not the one where I had had my surgery and appointments) waiting for my name to be called.

   My doctors surgery was extremely busy, so the options I had was to wait a further 3 days and have them removed at my doctors, or go to the local walk in centre and have them removed there. So off dad and I went to the local hospital. My nerves were all over the place…Was it going to hurt? Was the entire wound going to open again? Would it be infected?

   After an almost 2 hour wait, my name was finally called. To say that the nurse was confident…that would be really pushing it! She looked so intimidated, which as someone with anxiety…it really didn’t help! Luckily the actual removal of the stitch and beads, I didn’t feel at all.

   However. She proceeded to look at the wound and didn’t look happy. Of course, where the beads had been, the wound hadn’t fully closed. She was also convinced that it was infected and proceeded to tell me that she was going to put a plaster over the entire area and it would have to stay on for a week.

   Alarm bells went off in my head on the way home…growing up, I always learnt that an open wound needed air to close. Not be completely enclosed. But, her being in the medical profession, dad and I trusted her opinion. So guess what…7 days later when it was time to remove the plaster…the plaster had turned to jelly and it was completely infected.

   So off I went to the doctors office where it was confirmed that it had become infected and I needed to go on antibiotics for 10 days.

 

Becoming ‘Normal’ Again:

   A couple weeks after the surgery, I was finally able to get in and out of the shower on my own, I was able to climb into my bed and I was finally able to move around, without moving at a snails pace.

   Reintegrating into society was different though. If you have read my previous blog posts, then you know that I suffer from anxiety. I had gotten so into my head over the previous weeks…scared that someone would hit my stomach and that would open the stitches again. Luckily that never happened…but I had to be careful.

   Even though I was physically starting to look ‘normal’. I still had to be careful. I learnt that the hard way when I decided to make my chunky veggie chilli (chunky-veggie-chilli/). Chopping the vegetables hurt. I ended up in bed for the following 2 days in pain. The frustration was unreal!

Life After:

   So here I am…writing this 3 months after my life changing surgery. Still a far way off being in full health. But a lot closer to that than I have ever been! I’m learning now what its like to have a healthy human body. The swelling is still going down and I’m feeling better in my skin.

   The one thing that no one warned me about was how intense the changes would be and there was no mental preparation. I also didn’t have any followup appointments for how I’m coping mentally. So the last couple months have been hard. I’ve been dark, but I’m working through a day at a time.

   Now I’m just looking forward to all the things that I couldn’t do before!

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Living with a hidden (not so hidden) illness…Part 3

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So here we are…a couple months after the last update and what a couple months it has been!

So after the hospital visit and finding out my surgery date, I have been busy getting the house and office pod ready for my recovery and getting mentally prepared for what was going to happen. Mum and I also planned a trip away for before the surgery as a distraction.

This trip was the perfect thing and exactly what I needed. We first as a family went to Holland to see the rest of the family for a couple days, and then mum and I went on to Paris and Disneyland Paris for a week. We came home only 2 days before my surgery so I didn’t give my brain the chance to panic too much. The day before my surgery was just spent buying the last few bits that I would need in the hospital and stuffing my face at Yo Sushi.

The morning of my surgery started early…the alarm going off at 5am so that we would arrive at the hospital for 7am. It was a bit of a blur once the hospital gown and compression stockings were on, a blur of blood draws, blood pressure and heart rate monitoring and questions. Before I knew it though it was time to walk to the operating room.

So now for the details…I panicked a lot before my operation and actually needed to go on oxygen for about 15-20 minutes before they could put me under anaesthesia. When I came back out I was in the recovery room and I remember falling asleep a lot. One of the times I was awake, I remember the doctor came to see me and all I remember was her telling me that there were more fibroids than they had thought and I asked them if they were able to save my womb, which they did!!! I fell asleep again and before I knew it, I was back on the ward waiting for my parents to come in.

When they came in they both told me how worried they’d been. The surgery was only meant to be about an hour…however, I had been in for 4 hours. I was also super pale as I had lost a lot of blood during the surgery and had had 1 transfusion. The pain was unreal and I felt super nauseous. I also had no appetite and only ate a little bit of a yogurt and a few sips of hot water.

The next day was horrible. It started with another blood draw at 5:30 in the morning, followed by multiple blood pressure and heart rate checks. This was followed by the nurses telling me that they want to get me up into the chair so that they could take the catheter out and change the bedding. For anyone that has had abdominal surgery (my incision was through the abdomen from my belly button down) you know that it is incredibly painful to move your stomach muscles. I was told to use my arms to push me up out of bed however, I still had my catheter in and on my right hand I had a canula with 3 ports which pulled when I moved my arm, so using my arms was hard. But somehow with the help of the nurses, I managed to get up and into the chair. I tried to eat a bit of toast with jam and some hot water but I instantly regretted that. I felt the waves of nausea build and I tried to hold it in as much as possible. However my body had a completely different idea. Before I knew it I was reaching for the sick bowl. The pain that followed was unbelievable, my pain killer pump didn’t even make a dent.

Several hours later, my parents came in along with Althea (essentially my second mum), however I cannot remember much of what happened at all. I was still so out of it. All I remember is that I had another 2 transfusions but my levels were still very low. They were still very worried about my heart rate and blood pressure.

The next few days were a bit of a blur of more blood tests and blood pressure readings. But before I knew it, I had been taken off my pain pump and put on oral pain killers. I was able to walk a little more and able to walk to the toilet on my own. But after 3 nights I was ready to go home. The plastic bedding and no air movement just meant that I was boiling hot all the time and severely uncomfortable. So Monday morning I was convinced I was going home. I felt well enough to go home. However, my haemoglobin levels were still very low and they wanted to bring it back up to what it was pre op before I could go home. So one final blood draw was done and several hours later I was ready to go home!

Now my recovery is far from over. Walking goes at a snails pace and stairs still have to be taken slowly. But I’m getting there, pain is almost nonexistent now and every day I’m able to do more and more.

So when they opened me up, there were more fibroids than they thought. They reckon there were close to 100 fibroids in total with 5 large masses (15cm each). They also estimated that my fibroids had taken about 45% of my total blood supply and I lost around a litre of blood during the surgery. The best news though was that they were able to save my womb! I can still have kids!!

But for now…there’s still a long road to recovery but I am on the way 🙂 So far…this is the end of this chapter!

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Sorrow

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We are all different. We all experience events differently. We all have different coping mechanisms. When life gives you lemons, make lemonade…. some say… don’t worry about tomorrow, is what God says… I care for you today and every day…

But then you hear the words from a doctor no one likes to hear… we are talking about lengthening life, not healing… and suddenly the crazy world is upside down….

My previous post I referred to my father in law being sick… now we know how very serious it is…

what to do next…. everyone has words of advise… diets to follow, pills to take… all meant very well ofcourse. No one wants to say goodbye…even if this world is not our home, we are still at home here and saying goodbye till we meet again is very hard.

How do I cope? I am very good at pushing things away… not thinking about it is better than trying to deal with it.. other members of my family are different… we are all so busy and suddenly we are all forced to slow down…

I have spent these last days in an imaginary world… a world of make believe.. where miracles happen… even if it’s just fairy tales, I know my God is in the miracle business… not all miracles have happy endings… but for sure our end is sure… He will come back to take us home. We will be reunited with our loved ones.

And that keeps me going more than anything!

Let these flames be a prolonging of my prayers….

Living with a hidden (not so hidden) illness…Part 2

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So here I am almost a year after writing part 1. I thought it was about high time that I updated everyone with my situation as a lot has happened over the last year!

So back in the beginning of the year, I had just had enough of waiting and so I made another appointment with my GP to chase what was happening. I finally found a GP who took my case seriously and chased it up for me straight away.

Fast forward a couple months and here I was waiting at the hospital for my first appointment in almost 2 years! I knew that I wasn’t going to be seeing the same specialist as last time which made me a bit nervous. However, the second I met my new doctor, that anxiety went away. I explained my case to him and he was upset to hear that my case had ‘slipped through the cracks’ for so long.

Well this is where it all changed for me. Normally these appointments only last about 10 minutes and I tend to come out of them still as confused about what is happening than when I went in. Well this time, the specialist took a long time to really understand my situation and to update the notes on the system to include as much detail as possible. He took the time to really explain to me what was happening inside my body and what my options were. Well, lack there of. He called in the head of department and between the two of them, they fully discussed my situation with me and put me at ease.

After a quick feel of my abdomen, they noted very quickly that unfortunately my fibroids and my uterus had hardened meaning my only option was for surgery. And not just a small surgery which we had all hoped for…but quite a serious one. My fibroids had hardened at 15x15cm. This meant that my uterus had grown to the size of 7 month pregnancy. All of these factors meant that the surgery incision would have to be a midline incision from above my belly button…all the way down. They tried to put me at ease saying that I should get an anchor tattoo afterwards to hide the scar and something that is fitting with me.

After about 5 minutes of laughing and coming up with ideas…they sat me down and talked me through the procedure and the recovery time. This was the bit I was most afraid of. When the doctor starts the sentence with ‘There is one more thing and some women think that this is outrageous…’ my mind instantly fills in the blanks. I knew a hysterectomy could be on the cards for me. I had been previously told that the risk was extremely high considering my situation. However my chance was actually at less than 1%!!!! AND the chance of having kids afterwards would be high! So not only would I be getting my life back, but my chance of having kids wasn’t completely ripped away from me!

45 minutes later I finally left the hospital knowing exactly what the plan of action was. And here we are…less than a month away from my operation. Yes my anxiety plays up from time to time thinking of all the ‘what ifs’ but I am just going to take it one day at a time.

First things first…I have a lovely trip away with my mum for a well deserved holiday (for mum) and a great distraction for me! See you on the other side!!

R and R

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I know that I have been very quiet on here recently and the reason for that was that I took a break. I took time for myself and learnt to listen to my body.

The last couple months haven’t been easy for me and my mental health took a huge hit. Depression had a strong hold on me and I couldn’t find a way out. But after taking this time away from blogging and social media as a whole, I’m happy to report that I am much better now! My mental health is in a better state and I am actually looking forward to the upcoming events in my life.

I’m currently writing this from Costa Rica where I am really taking the time to do the things that I love to do…crochet, reading, photography and just binge watching Netflix. Allowing my brain and body to relax and to just be myself again. I’ve missed enjoying the day to day things and I feel like I can and am now!

So instead of all the doom and gloom that I had been seeing since the beginning of the year, I am now able to find joy in every day life. So I’m back now with lots of blog posts in mind. Be ready!

Hope you’re all having a great week!

Costa Rica 2018

Exploring London…

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A couple weeks ago I realised that I had never been to London on my own. I knew the reason for this was my anxiety, but that same week I had decided that I was going to fight this. I was going to fight my depression and anxiety head on and not let it beat me.

So here I was on a Wednesday morning, packing my rucksack with everything I thought I would need and off I went. After a quick stop off at Dad’s church, he dropped me off at Watford Junction and I was on my way…no turning back now…trust me, the anxiety was winning…my illogical part of my brain was telling me that everything would go wrong and I should just go home and lie in bed. But I thought the better of it and pushed through.

After a quick check to make sure I had enough on my Oyster card, I ran into one of my old school friends and instantly the anxiety reduced. Instantly I was calmer. Turned out that he was headed for the Science Museum which is directly behind the Natural History Museum. The anxiety for travelling had almost completely disappeared at this point and the other fears and anxieties built up. But again, I didn’t give in. I powered through.

About 30 minutes later and there I am, standing in front of the Natural History Museum. Now my plan had been to spend the day there, meandering through all the different sections and reading as much information as possible. However, the second I walked through the doors, I realised that that wasn’t going to happen. It was so incredibly busy, and boiling hot! Not a great combination when you are already struggling with anxiety!

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I tried to enjoy myself as much as I could but after about an hour, I gave in and left. I moved on to the Victoria and Albert Museum, hoping that that would be quieter, unfortunately, it wasn’t. So after a quick dash through the V&A and a quick pep talk from someone special, I picked up the guts, ignored my anxiety and decided to go to the British Museum.

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The British Museum has always been one of my favourites as it includes a lot of ancient Egyptian history and Ancient Greek history, two of my favourite topics!! Yes, it was busy and hot like the other 2 museums, and yet my anxiety was a lot less there.  I was able to distract myself with all of the awesome history that surrounded me. I drowned out the illogical brain and all of my anxieties, I was actually able to enjoy myself!

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Multiple hours were spent here just wandering around looking at all the different artefacts and then realising two important things:

1) How many plaques said ‘now missing’ or ‘now destroyed’ and it made me sad to think about how much history we have already lost and would never be able to discover!

2) That the Natural History Museum didn’t have any information that I saw about the current crisis and what we can do to help to stop more extinctions, etc to happen.

The journey back really tested my anxiety and fear though. It was just before rush hour, but people were already there and pushing. I decided to let one train go as it was so busy and full that I knew it would be a recipe for disaster. The next train was practically empty and I was able to avoid a near-certain panic attack.

Now for those who don’t suffer from anxiety, this day just sounds pretty calm and ‘normal’. For me, however, it was a HUGE step. It allowed me to see that I can push through and not let anxiety run my life. It also showed me that London isn’t such a scary place to explore on your own! Would I do it again? Definitely!! I’m already planning my next trip in!!

If you suffer from anxiety…what do you do to stop it? How do/did you overcome it?