Just keep plodding

So the cortisone injection hasn't made much, if any difference. Despite regularly going to the gym and swimming a mile at a time and/or cycling 20-25km I still can't walk comfortably. I'm having to take Tramadol to deal with the pain. This is having an adverse affect on my mental health, as living with constant pain is wearing me down. I feel like I'm limited in what I do. I'm having to use my crutches almost constantly.

So I was scheduled to have a treatment known as GPS on July 2nd. Arriving at the hospital at 7.30 I was quickly settled into a 4 bay room where I went through the general questions and consent forms that are necessary with any medical procedure.

My left leg was marked up so that they made sure they were doing the procedure on the correct foot. 

Then I was whisked off to theatre. Despite the procedure being done under local anaesthetic it has to be done in an operating theatre for safety reasons. After numerous checks to make sure I was who they said I was, and hadn't hopped off the trolley and smuggled an impostor in, the registrar cleaned my foot with antiseptic and then injected the base of my foot with local anaesthetic. Oh my goodness! The pain of having that done is unbelievable, and all I could do was try to keep breathing and just tell myself it would be over soon. My foot was soon starting to feel tingly and then numb. While the doctor was waiting for the local anaesthetic to work he took some blood from my arm, 30mls to be precise. 

The blood is placed into a special tube, and then placed in a centrifuge machine to spin it around really fast. This separates the red cells from the white cells, and then the plasma part of the blood is re injected into the affected foot. 

This process takes around 18-20 minutes, and so it gave plenty of time for my foot to numb up. The doctor was happy to talk about the procedure, telling me that in 80% of cases it works and the foot pain clears up completely. The plasma is injected because the fibrous tissue in that part of the foot doesn't have a great blood flow and so this gets the healing cells straight to where they are needed. 

Once the blood had been spun, it was removed from the machine. The doctor showed me how the red blood cells were at the top of the tube, there was a pinky coloured substance in the middle which was the plasma, and a clear substance at the bottom. The doctor pulled the red blood cells out of the tube with a syringe, and discarded that into the medical waste, then he drew 3mls of the plasma into a syringe and injected that into the base of my foot. This wasn't as bad as the local anaesthetic going in, as obviously my foot was numb. 

After that had been done, and a sticky plaster placed over the injection site I was taken into recovery, just to make sure my blood pressure and pulse was ok and then it was back to the ward for tea, toast and to be presented with my new best friend, my moonboot. 

The boot is there to keep my foot and ankle in one position. For the first three days I had to keep the boot on constantly for 24 hours, then until the first week was up I had to keep it on 24 hours a day apart from when I was washing. This happened to coincide with the hottest spell of weather that Britain has had for years. Typical. Add the boot to a pair of shoulder crutches for the first week, and I was pretty much set to go home. 

Trying to stay off my feet for 3 days was unbelievably hard. I didn't realise how much I actually moved around. Getting upstairs to the bathroom, or even just from the sofa to the kitchen was a struggle. It's really frustrating when you can't get from A to B faster than a snail. After the first week I was allowed to take the boot off at night, but had to wear it the rest of the time, to give my foot a chance to heal. I noticed almost immediately that having the support from the boot helped immensely. But after a couple of days I noticed a strange feeling in my second and third toe, and it feels as if there is slight nerve damage, with my toes either feeling numb or tingly. 

I'm now a month on from the procedure and followed the instructions the consultant gave me to the letter. Unfortunately, though, despite the procedure and the rest, and the boot I am still in pain. My foot still feels tight, not so much in my Achilles, but my plantar fasciitis seems only slightly improved, I'd say around 20% better. This is really disappointing for me. I had hoped that it would work and by this point I would be pain free. 

I see the consultant again in ten days, and I'm not sure what the next step of the process is. I have read about an operation called a "plantar release". It seems that most cases of plantar fasciitis should be completed cleared by a year in, well I'm around that point now and I've thrown everything I can at it. From stretching and frozen water in a pepsi bottle, to massage and acupuncture, to cortisone and this latest procedure. I feel I'm no closer to running again than I was at the start of the year.

It's had a massive impact on my mental health. It's really hard to watch other people running races you know you would have been in, while you are sat on the sidelines with no light at the end of the tunnel. The Great North Run is in just over a month, and it hurts to know I won't be running this year. Running did amazing things to me, not only helping me to lose weight, but giving me targets to achieve and boosting my self-confidence when I reached those targets, to just having the time and space when out running to go through my mental filing cabinet and deal with the stresses of life. I desperately want to get back to that place. 

I've spoken about how depression feels for me before and how my mental health affects my life. I feel so restricted at times, and that in itself makes me angry. When I'm lying in bed in the morning and it takes all my effort to get out of it, or when I'm stood at my front door, unable to pull on the handle to go outside, when the world goes from glorious technicolour to monochrome, or when everything seems amplified, noise, sound, smells and all I want is peace, quiet and stability, when I'm doubting that I'll be able to ride this wave out, and wondering why I keep trying to get back on the surfboard when life and depression keeps knocking me off, this illness feels like it's mocking me. Telling me that I was an idiot for ever thinking I would succeed. And it takes masses of energy just to keep going. Then I go to bed at night, absolutely worn out from just existing, and lie awake, sleep eluding me, and the more I can't sleep, the more angry about it I become as I know the next day will already be hard, as I'm going to be tired. 

But life is a challenge. This illness, depression and Borderline Personality Disorder will not beat me. 10% of all people with BPD end up committing suicide and I don't want to be part of that statistic. So I keep on trying to just take each day as it comes. One fabulous achievement that I have attained is 4 years sobriety. This year has been an incredibly difficult one. There are moments when I would have welcomed the oblivion that alcohol can provide, however I know I have far too much to lose if I drink and that keeps me sober. However hard things feel at the moment, they would feel 100 times harder coupled with alcohol and a hangover. 

Each day is a journey through life. You can try and embrace it, even with the restrictions of illness, or you can give up. Personally I will do everything I can each day to hit the small targets that I set myself when depression hits, getting up, trying to keep in touch with friends and family, trying to focus on small positives. And that is all that I can ask of myself at the moment. 

Still on a sick note....

Hey there, 

Well I wish I could give you good news. But nope, I've been continuing the physio which has made slight progress. But nothing has really changed. I feel like I'm taking two tiny steps forward and one big step back. It's hard to describe because although I know there is progress it's so slow and so minimal that I don't feel like it can be measured week by week. I am better than I was back in February but not good enough to walk yet. 

Helen the physio at Physio Plus has been amazing. Not only has she dealt with the injuries to my foot and leg but she's seen me go up and down in mood. It certainly distracts me when she's trying to unknot my calf muscle if I can talk to her about how I'm feeling about being injured. Helen's tried all the conventional treatments on me for plantar fasciitis. Massage, both in my calf which knots up every week to some extent, and in my plantar fascia. That is sore, but it's the kind of pain that you know is actually doing good. She can feel the inflammation in my foot and can judge how it's doing. She's also used ultrasound therapy on the sole of my foot and taping. 

We have also tried acupuncture. I think I'm the biggest sceptic in the world when it comes to alternative and complementary therapies. But I was willing to give it a go. Helen placed tiny thin needles down my calf which didn't hurt at all. I couldn't even feel them. Then she got to the foot. Now if you think about a foot there isn't much padding down there around the bones and in the arch of the foot. So sticking needles under my ankle bone and by my toe joints wasn't pleasant, but was bearable. We then had a discussion about whether to try a point directly in the plantar fascia, basically in the arch of the foot. After consulting with Cathryn, another physio, Helen thought it might be worth a try and I just said "oh go on give it a go!" 

Helen went to put the needle in the sole of my foot, and as it went in I took off from the bed! The pain was bad enough to make me jump! That caused Helen to jump, while Cathryn dissolved into a fit of giggles. After extracting me from a supply cupboard located at the end of the massage bed (no not really) a mutual decision was made to take that needle straight out! Despite my new long jump/high jump PB from a lying flat position, acupuncture didn't really do much.    
I have to say, working with physios who actually have a laugh and a human side, as well as being professional helps so much. I'm able to be honest with Helen about what I think is making a difference and what isn't

I had an appointment with a foot and ankle specialist at the hospital too. I really didn't know what to expect when I went to see him. Helen wrote him a letter describing what we had tried. He asked me to tell him about the injury and said that he thought the first course of treatment should be a cortisone injection into the plantar fascia. My heart sank. Not just because I'd only had a needle in the base of my foot a few weeks earlier courtesy of Helen, but because I've heard about how painful cortisone injections are. But I know that this isn't clearing up on its own. So I sat on the bed and asked the nurse "is this going to hurt?" To which she replied "yes, unfortunately!" Wow, thanks for that, lol. 

Cortisone is a steroid injection which is mixed with a local anaesthetic to help it spread. The doctor felt around the arch of my foot to find where the pain was most acute then injected it. It's done quite slowly. The pain is immense I must say and I did hold the nurses hand. The local anaesthetic numbs the foot for several hours. So by the time I got to the car park my foot was completely asleep. The anaesthetic wore off though after about 3 hours and oh my god did the pain kick in. The cortisone can cause a flash reaction where the pain increases temporarily and I ended up back on my crutches for 2 days. 

Once the immediate pain of the flash wore off I was anxiously hoping for an improvement in my foot, however up to now, 8 days later, my foot feels the same as it did before the jab. I have to go back to the hospital in 6 weeks and the doctor has said he is then going to consider a treatment that is basically when my own blood is taken and injected into the damaged tendon. 

My mood has been up and down over the past few weeks. I honestly believe the Internet does more good than harm but you always get idiots. A group of keyboard warriors found this blog and decided to take the piss out of me for running, having been overweight and diabetic and my mental health problems. I find it strange that people think that by throwing something I'm completely honest about they're going to hurt me. I mean calling someone "fat" or "forest gump" is rather infantile even by my standards, and I'm not the most grown up adult out there, however I believe it said more about them than me. I'll always be proud of what I achieved through running and even though this injury has become more serious than I thought I'll get back to running eventually. 

Helen and I have discussed the running and come to a decision that 2013 is not realistic to run again as I can't walk without pain. So I'm using the rest of the year to recover and start psyching myself up for 2014. It's been hard deferring my places that I already had in runs, mentally seeing others start the road running season with aims and goals really did hit hard. But I can come back stronger next year by taking it easy and doing as I'm told this year. 

As you know I like to raise funds for charity and this year it's for David Rathband's blue lamp foundation.  I had said I'd run all year for them but that's not possible so I've had a rethink. I'm now going to swim 190 miles for the cause, which was David's badge number, and ironically the distant between the Tyne Bridge and Stafford University, as I'm a Geordie lass and David was from Stafford. I'm just thankful he wasn't Tango 1900 as 190 miles is far enough to swim. If you want to donate to my just giving page it's at www.justgiving.com/howaythelass and I'm aiming to raise £1000, to help the emergency services personnel injured on duty. Any donations are received with thanks. 

So that's where I'm at. A long way to go. But you know me, I'm not one for giving in! 

No light at the end of the tunnel

Hello, 

I bet you've all been wondering where I got to. Aye right. None of you missed me eh? Well let's bring everything up to date. Last time I blogged I had just completed the Great North Run, and had been injured at mile 5. 

I'm still injured. I went to the Walk in centre 3 times immediately after the Great North Run although they should have called it the limp in centre. I felt like something was stabbing into the bottom of my foot. I thought maybe I had a stress fracture or something but the nurse practitioner assured me that where the pain was located wouldn't suggest a stress fracture. Eventually my GP arranged an x-ray for me just to be on the safe side and it came back clear so it was obviously soft tissue damage. I thought a bit of a rest and ice and stuff would sort it. So I rested, and iced, and did some basic stretching and got frustrated as September turned into October into November and Christmas arrived with me still sore. 

I knew there was a problem with my Achilles' tendon but my foot felt so weird. It was as if I had a tight rubber band across the sole of my foot. The GP arranged for me to see the bio mechanical people at the hospital and although I saw the NHS physio I didn't really get any relief. 

When the New Year came I decided to try and run a mile to see what my foot felt like. What a mistake. My Achilles' tendon tightened straight up, the stabbing pain in my foot returned after half a mile and although I finished the mile I limped back home feeling dejected and down. 

I needed to do something. Just resting my foot wasn't making a blind bit of difference so after seeking advice about private Physios I booked in for an assessment at Physio plus in Newcastle. Immediately I felt like I was addressing the problem properly. After explaining the symptoms the sports therapist checked my legs in various ways such as stretching to see how flexible both legs were, got me to push against her hands with my feet, or stop her from moving my feet, and standing on one leg. 

She gave me a sports massage to loosen my tight calf, which wasn't the most pleasant thing when you are sore. She wasn't 100% sure what was wrong and so made an appointment for me to see the physio to check it wasn't a nerve problem as I could feel pain in my foot when she was massaging my calf. 

The following week I went to see Helen, who repeated some of the tests done the week before, massages my very tight left calf, 
massaged the sole of my foot and said she could feel tenderness and resistance in it. Then she taped my foot up. I was a bit sceptical that a bit of tape might make any difference but I walked out of the physio's that week a lot easier than I walked in.

The appointments since have seen me have my calf unknotted each week, as it seems to like tightening back up at any given opportunity, some ultrasound, which doesn't hurt, some tens therapy, which while it feels like pins and needles again doesn't hurt and taping of my foot. A diagnosis of plantar fasciitis has been made. My Achilles is also very tight and my calf is obviously a problem 
too. I can link it all back to my sore calf after the Jane Tomlinson 10k in Leeds back last July. It goes to show that not getting treated swiftly after an injury can impact massively. 

I've also seen the biomechanics department and after a similar assessment I was given orthotics to wear in my shoes, and have to go back in April. Helen the physio has suggested that I ask my GP to make a referal to the foot and ankle specialist at the local hospital to see what they believe the best treatment is for my foot as it isn't resounding very quickly to treatment and it continuously feels like two steps forward and one step back. 

I have no return date set for running yet. We have to get to a point where I can walk comfortably without pain before I can even think about that. I have found it very hard to motivate myself and have been frustrated and even depressed about this injury. I used running as a way of dealing with my stress, and seeing others progressing while I have no light at the end of the tunnel is hard. 

I'm now watching 10k's come up which I should be running but can't. The North Tyneside 10k is at the end of March and I have no hope of doing that. The Blaydon Race which I ended like a drowned rat last year is only 3 months away. It's very frustrating to not know if I'll be running any time soon. 

the longest mile

As you might remember from last time I had a bit of a set back with an injury to my foot. It really put the whole run in jeopardy. Despite all the training I have done in the past year there is no way I was going to risk a permanent injury. However I didn't want to let down the people who had sponsored me throughout my training too. My total stands at this point at £741 and you can still sponsor me here hint hint, lol.

I didn't run at all until the Sunday before the Great North Run. The crutches were a complete pain, making my shoulders and back ache but they were a necessary evil. On the Sunday before the Great North Run I did a slow paced 5k run to test my foot, and despite it being a couple of minutes slower than my usual 5k time I got round without any reaction to my injury. For the rest of the week I continued to rest and made sure I didn't stress the foot any further.

On the Saturday night I taped my foot and ankle with KT tape  and taped my toes which are prone to blisters. I felt like a bairn at christmas when I went to bed. I had asked my pal Graham to give me an alarm call at 6.30am if he hadn't heard from me before that to make sure I didn't sleep in. I was full of nerves and excitement and could I sleep? Could I heck! I was up and down like a yo-yo and was really hacked off by 3am. I was sure I would have trouble getting up when my alarm went off at 6am.

However when my alarm went off I was up and raring to go. I had my shower then my porridge and coffee and was out the door to catch the metro at 8am to meet my other friend Karen in Newcastle.

So many people were on Northumberland Street in Newcastle when I emerged from Monument metro. I saw teddy bears, batman and robin, cavemen and runners in all sorts of charity vests and t-shirts as well as the club runners making their way up to the start line. Despite being in Newcastle early I managed to miss the baggage bus by 1 minute, and had to put my bag into the late van!

After hugging Karen, who was in another pen, I made my way into my area and wandered about until I found a space that felt right. I got talking to a few girls around me who were psyching themselves up for the run and for once I actually joined in the warmup. We all agreed that we had a massive amount of butterflies in our stomach. Just before the race began the Red Arrows flew overhead which was immense.

It took a while to walk to the start line but with each step my nerves seemed to decrease. And then we were off. Along the central motorway with people already cheering us on and I felt good. Running through the tunnelled parts chants of "Oggy Oggy Oggy" were met with "Oi Oi Oi" and a mile flew past. Before I knew it I was at the Tyne Bridge, and I actually got goosebumps as I ran over the iconic landmark and was through the 2 mile point with ease and heading towards Gateshead International Stadium.

At 3 miles I took my first energy gel and grabbed a bottle of water at the drinks station to wash it down. The people at the sides of the road clapped and cheered us on despite the drizzly rain. Four miles down and I was actually enjoying the run. Then at just before five miles I felt a twinge in my foot, I managed to get to 5 miles in 55 minutes which was a cracking time but my foot was starting to really hurt.

I decided to walk for a while and see what happened. I walked for about 100m then started jogging again, and basically this was my strategy for the next 8 miles. I would run for as far as I could before the pain in my foot would force me to walk for a while. I knew my brilliant first 5 miles had been whittled away by the injury but still hoped to get to the finish before the 3 hour mark. My friend Ali would be between the 10 and 11 mile point and so I focused on getting there, getting a hug and a pep talk and making it to the end of the run.

Each mile was becoming harder and harder as not only the pain in my foot increased but my toes started to blister too. I kept overtaking people around me, but would be overtaken back by them when I walked and then overtake them again when I ran again. At 8 miles I took another energy gel and got a bottle of water and a hug from British Paralympian and one of my sporting heroines, Tanni Grey-Thompson. That was a massive boost for me. As the roundabout approached where Ali would be I spotted her immediately and ran to get a hug. I can remember saying "Ali I'm struggling" but I can't remember what she said to me, but it gave me a boost. She got her lads to unwrap some chewy sweets for me to carry with me to keep me going, got me psyched up again, took a couple of photos and then I was away again.

Each step was now agony. I passed through mile 11, the Killer hill, and on to mile 12. There is a steep downhill section before you turn on to the sea front. I tried to run this, but the force of going downhill on my foot was too much and I was slowed to a walk again. A lass in front of me was running well when all of a sudden she pulled up too. By the looks of it something in her knee had gone and she just about collapsed. St Johns Ambulance were soon with her but as I passed her she was protesting that she would be finishing.

Turning on to the sea front I passed the mile 12 point and knew I was nearly finished. However I think it is the longest mile I have ever done. It just seemed to go on and on and on. I was definitely on empty. Each step now felt like I was treading on glass, my toes were blistered, my foot was shooting a sharp pain through it whenever I put weight on it. I was trying to concentrate on anything other than the pain, and looked for my family in the crowds, as I knew they would be at the end of the run somewhere.

As I approached the end of the run I could see the finish line, and putting in one last burst of effort crossed the line, forgetting to stop my garmin as I did! DUH! The feeling of elation was something I can't describe. I had done it. My mobile phone buzzed and my official time came through and it was 3 hours 8 mins and 42 seconds. Slower than I had hoped but considering I had struggled for 8 miles, missing my goal of 2 hours 45 minutes by 23 minutes was nothing. I had done it!

The longest walk of my life then ensued as I made my way from the finish line to the T-shirt point. I limped my way to the goody bag point and on to the exit towards the NSPCC marquee when I saw my brother and his lass. The hug he gave me has never felt so welcoming. He grabbed hold of me and just about carried me to the tent, where my mam was waiting with a coffee and a massive hug that nearly suffocated me. The NSPCC team were giving out bananas, donuts, coffees and more importantly massages and I got my calves immediately massaged while my friends Clare and Barry who had just finished too came and chatted but I'm not too sure I was good company at that point lol.

I still cannot believe that I have completed a half marathon. It has amazed me that a lass who couldn't easily walk 2 miles 18 months ago has completed 13 miles. I need to rest my foot for a while but I will be back and on to my next fundraising project soon.

Last minute setback

For the last 15 months I have been training hard to both lose weight and get myself fit enough to run the Great North Run, and I can't count the hours and miles I have put in so that I reach my goal on September 16th. I've lost 58lbs in weight and so many people have sponsored me on my Justgiving page here that not only did I raise the £400 required by the NSPCC but I blasted through my own £500 target and am now at 125% of my target. I want to thank everyone who has donated money, each donation has shown me that people believe in me.

Over the last year, though, I have had a recurring nightmare that I would injure myself just before the big day and not be able to run. I have been pretty lucky when it comes to injuries this year, nothing more than a few pulled muscles and nasty blisters have hit me. But just when I thought I was home free, two weeks ago I suddenly felt a sharp stabbing pain in my foot while I was out running with Tyne Bridge Harriers.  I managed to finish the session, got home and immediately iced my foot with my medicinal broccoli.

However the pain and swelling in my foot didn't subside as quickly as I would have liked. I am sure runners will know exactly what I mean when I say I didn't want to get my foot checked out, for fear of being told it was a serious injury and that I wouldn't be able to run. However after a week of painkillers, rest and ice the pain in my foot was too much to bear. The result:

Possible stress fracture, foot immobilised and crutches. I was devastated! However it was exactly what my foot needed. Being immobilised and with the aid of the crutches I have felt a massive improvement in it, and have managed to go through today without the crutches. The pain has subsided so much, and while my calf and Achilles feel a bit tight I am a lot more hopeful of running a week on Sunday.

I am not going to risk a more serious injury, if there is any doubt in my mind at all I won't run, however I am not prepared to just sit on my backside and mope about it.

I got a tweet off a follower who asked me to consider entering a piece to Sky Tyne and Wear about why I am doing the Great North run and I am going to. I feel that I have a duty to pass on my experience of losing weight and getting fit to others. I am no different to anyone else who struggles to lose weight. The thing I discovered was that I had to have goals and determination to get where I want to be and if I could help other people realise that with effort and belief they can get to where they want to get to then it would make my achievements all the sweeter.

So for the next 10 days I am concentrating on cycling, resting and hopefully I will be lining up in Newcastle on September 16th to achieve a lifetime goal. Keep everything crossed for me.

Under a black cloud

We'll start with an update. I picked up a mild calf strain on my last run a couple of weeks ago. Initially it was terrifying not knowing how long I wouldn't be able to run or exercise for. I spent several days with my leg elevated and alternating my high-tech ice pack (bag of mixed veg) and my super-sexy tubi-grip bandage on my calf. Then came the waiting for the pain to go so I could exercise again. Finally this week I realised that my calf did actually feel much better and realised I'd been lucky and it had just been a minor strain. So this morning it was back to beach bootcamp and the wonderful pair of Dave and Tony, who were excellent, reigning me back in to not go off to hard, and ensuring that I was ok. I've never been so terrified before running before (including first ever bootcamp) and I've never spent so long thinking of one muscle, checking constantly how it feels, is it tight, is it hurting, is this normal, is it going to ping on me at any moment? And I came through unscathed and it looks as if my first sports injury has cleared up.

Now on to this blog. I have a condition called Borderline Personality Disorder (or Emotionally Unstable Personality Disorder). What this means in real terms to me is that I can be very impulsive, I don't react to stress in a rational way, my emotions can be up and down and can change very, very quickly, I often have trouble liking or accepting myself, I put myself down loads, I am scared that people don't like me and in the past I have used things like alcohol, gambling, self-harming and binge eating/making myself sick to cope with things.

I was diagnosed in my early 20's on my first six month stay in a psychiatric unit. My self-harming at one point was out of control and those of you who have met me might have seen some scars on my arm. They are a constant reminder and a constant shame of mine, I hate them, they represent a weak and sick me. I am busy working on a tattoo sleeve to cover them up. They are the old me, I don't self harm anymore, and haven't cut for over 7 years. I've mentioned my alcoholism before too. My drinking became an enormous problem, taking over my life, but I've been sober now for 2 years and 3 months tomorrow.

Something that goes alongside Emotionally Unstable Personality Disorder is depression. Over the last couple of weeks I have been hit again with this awful illness. I want to try and share with you what depression is actually like. Depression isn't just a mental illness. For me depression is a physical illness too. I wake up in the morning and there is an immense pressure in my head. I have a thumping headache, I can't stand the light, noise goes right through me. Paracetamol doesn't touch it. And it goes on and on, for days, weeks, months. Walking around jars my head and makes it hurt more.

My muscles ache. They feel fatigued. I feel like I have weights on my arms, legs and a massive backpack on my back filled with sandbags. And I can't take it off, so every movement, every step is an enormous effort. To get out of bed physically exhausts me.

I just want to sleep. For as long as possible, all day and all night if I could. I've been to bootcamp this morning, the effort to get out of bed was massive, the effort to actually get through the bootcamp was enormous, so much more than normal even though I was effectively taking it easy today. I now feel completely wiped out. Normally I come home from bootcamp and feel energised, today I feel great that I've been there, but I am physically tired.

My brain feels like it is mushed. I am a single parent, and have been looking after my girls on my own for 7 years. I am independent, I do everything, I have be responsible (which for someone with Emotionally Unstable Personality Disorder isn't easy). At this moment in time I struggle at times to finish the sentence I am saying, as I have forgotten what I am saying. I am trying to cope with University, with 6 essays due in all on the same day in December, and my brain can't remember if I've left the oven on, never mind write 2000 words on Marxism. This means that the usual juggle of dealing with school for the girls, dealing with household bills, managing the everyday organisation becomes a massive struggle.

And then I beat myself up! To know that I am unable to do the everyday things, to go to Tesco without panicking about there being loads of people there, to be able to leave the house in the mornings, to go out for a run, to even open the curtains in the morning, to get out of bed is so frustrating, so soul destroying. I get so angry. It doesn't feel fair. I have to fight so hard to be able to do a fraction of what I normally do, it takes so much energy. And here's where I have to admit that I get suicidal thoughts.

This week, in particular, I've been battling hard. I've had moments when I've had to remind myself that I have more good reasons to keep going. My girls are obviously my main motivation, my university place is important to me, but I am also a stubborn bugger and I'll be damned if I am going to let this illness kill me.

Depression can hit anyone, it doesn't matter if you are successful or not in life, it doesn't discriminate. You have to deal with a lot of people who seem to say "What have you got to be depressed about?" Why blame someone for being ill with depression. Think about it, would people have the same reaction to someone with another illness, say diabetes? Epilepsy? Cancer? Depression can hit anyone, the same as these other illnesses.

I'm fighting on, today has been a good morning, a very, very good morning, I got up, I got out of the house, I went to bootcamp. I don't know what this afternoon will bring, or tomorrow, or the day after. I might be stuck in the house tomorrow, unable to do much more than the basics.

There are so many other people out there that feel that their fight has gone, that the only option is suicide, and if you feel like this please do something before deciding on suicide. Contact:

Your GP

http://www.samaritans.org/

http://www.sane.org.uk/

http://www.nhsdirect.nhs.uk/

Or phone 999


This blog post is written in memory of someone who inspired me and motivated me in my battle against alcohol and also in my fight to get fit. She felt this week that she couldn't go on and took her life. She will be missed by so many people: To Angie, there are so many people who have shed tears this week at your passing, I hope you have found the peace and tranquility that was eluding you here. Rest in Peace.

And to a legend of Newcastle United, his death has stunned all of football. I spent hours watching his brilliance, he gave me chinks of sunlight through some dark clouds, and distracted me from my own problems. He was a skillful player, a gentleman and an all round nice guy. Depression and suicide doesn't discriminate, it is a cruel and horrific illness. RIP Gary Speed. 

We've got a piper down, a piper down!

I went out for a run immediately after my last blog post. I made sure I warmed up and stretched before leaving the house and felt really excellent. Very strong, very happy with how I was going. When I was 3 and a half miles in I started to run up a relatively small hill and immediately felt my calf tighten up. Stupidly I thought it was just a niggle, and so continued running but by the time I got home I knew I was limping as I ran.

Once I was home I knew straight away that I had a problem with my calf muscle, and what started as a bit of an ache proceeded to become something that was damn sore. I immediately contacted David Fairlamb via twitter to find out what I should do and he immediately told me to get some ice on it and rest!

As instructed I have iced my calf for 20 mins at a time with my high-tec ice-pack, aka a bag of frozen mixed-veg pack, several times a day. I have been resting my leg as much as a single mam with three kids who is doing a degree at University can do, I've been taking some paracetamol and ibuprofen and just trying not to worry.

However my goal of doing the Great North Run next year is firmly in the forefront of my mind and I have my runs for next year planned so that I can get to be able to do the half-marathon come next September. So the idea of having no running for at least two weeks, and possibly longer depending on how long this injury takes to heal has really knocked me.

What has really affected me though is how my head has been messed up by this. This part of my blog has been really hard for me to write, and I guess it's because I have to be honest about some really hard stuff. Mental heath is still a taboo subject and one that can be so difficult to share with others, but I feel that it's only right that I am honest about the difficulties I am facing as well as the triumph's that I have on this journey. I feel really depressed by getting injured and I mean really depressed. I have living with depression since I was a teenager, and its a massive part of my underlying illness. My eating in the past has always been an emotional thing, and as soon as depression kicks in my eating goes off the rails. I have also made myself sick in the past to get rid of the food I have eaten

I wish I could say that my eating hasn't been affected but it has. I am really angry that I have allowed myself this to happen. I have struggled with alcoholism, and even though its hard it doesn't compared to my addiction to eating shite. So now I am beating myself up about eating. I have had several times since Tuesday when I have eaten something and felt so angry about it afterwards. I even thought about making myself throw up at one point to purge myself of the food. So now my biggest issue is not the injury, but dealing with the emotions that go along with it.

I am seeing my care manager and my occupational therapist this week, and I will be honest with them about what is happening. The depression has left me feeling tired and I am being so hard on myself. I want to be able to do everything that I see other people doing, and I hate the limitations that the depression puts on me. I also know that this journey is a (half) marathon and not a sprint, and I can't let this blip affect me in the long run.

So now it's about accepting the support I need to get through this spell, making sure I don't start running again before my calf is healed, finding some exercise I can do in the meantime to keep me going and getting my eating back on track. New goals for this little period, but the little goals all lead to the big goal.