Appreciation, Depression and Stay Positive

Dear Friends,

Admittedly this letter was meant to be about roller derby, about the rules/gameplay etc, featuring a photo of me posing in my brand new skates. I stood up with confidence this morning then, almost immediately, I went A over T. I know what you guys are thinking, I am very graceful almost ballerina-like, also is there photographic evidence? Thankfully there isn't, just a slight bruise to my ego and kneecap. Wear kneepads guys! What I want this letter to be about is all of you, an appreciation post to the Project Mavis community and the people in my life.

Those of you who read my last letter know that I was struggling with my depression, frustrated at the inconsistency of the illness and unsure of what a new day would bring. A post that received a lot of attention via Instagram followers, strangers, to old friends reaching out and getting in touch. One of the things about this illness, among a crap tornado of other issues, is how the feeling of loneliness is constant. Even if you are surrounded by all of you closest friends, it can be hard to talk or stop feeling like a burden to those around you.

What I'm trying to say is that I really appreciated the support from you all, that it felt like I wasn't lost in the room full of familiar faces, it felt more like a hug. I'm still feeling low, but it doesn't feel like the world is ending, or that I will never feel happy again. Just feeling a little worn out. If you guys know of someone who is going through a difficult patch, depression or not, reach out to them and say you're there if they want to talk. A little love goes a long way - something I learnt the hard way.

Anyway, I'm going to buy some kneepads, have a bath and a face mask, Again thank you.

Love always,
Mavis x

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Travelling With My First Best Friend

Dear Friends,

One of my first best friends was my sister Charlotte, she’s pretty awesome. One of my earliest memories of her was when she played her music in her room. Things like Alicia’s attic, Gangsters paradise, All Saints and The Police. I remember sitting on the floor looking at her posters and thinking how unattainably cool my big sister is. A thought I still harbour in private and now on this blog. Before our father passed away, Charlotte has also been another parent, something I appreciate more now that I am older. She was at my first ballet performance, bought toys into the hospital when I had an epileptic seizure, encouraged my writing, supported me through university and was there at my graduation. Like I said, my sister is pretty bomb.

I hated it when she went to university, sometimes I would sit on her bed and cry because I missed her so much. We became pen pals, she wrote about all her adventures in London, about the friends she made and places she went. London felt worlds apart to the little village we grew up in. The first trip I was allowed to go on (by myself) was to go visit her. I carried my suitcase to school and was allowed to leave early to catch my train, skipping excitedly down to the station with mum. I walked through the school gates, thinking (slightly smugly) that I was going on a train on by myself, to visit my big sister in the capital.

My sister and I still go on little adventures, from spending weekends away, to places like Paris and festivals to just having the day together. Just us. I like those days. Ever since Paris, our first trip abroad together, we’re spoken/daydreamed about touring other countries together. Places like Norway to see the aurora borealis, walk part of the Great Wall of China, trek through Peru to the lost city of Macau Picchu and all the other parts of the world we want to see together.

At the end of the year, November specifically, Charlotte and I will be going to Brussels. We’re already making a mental list of places we want to see and food we want to try. It’ll only be for a few days, but I’m excited to travel again, with a person who is not only family but continues to be one of my best friends.

If you have any recommendations for us, leave a comment or follow me on Twitter or Instagram!

Love always,

Mavis x

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Updates & Depression

Dear friends,

In the past ten days, since I posted my first letter on Project Mavis, a few things have happened: I went to the gym today, I lost 3lbs, sent a job application to a publishing house and attempted to make sushi with my friend Amy. Who took the very beautiful photo of the sushi ingredients and you can follow her Instagram here. Finally the little community we built has reached over 700 views!

Over the past few days I’ve been more honest with the people I know, about subjects I felt ashamed by, one of which was about mental health and my experiences with it. Which is what I want to talk to you about today, as feeling shame about a disease (invisible to the eye or not) is something I shouldn’t have felt, or you either.  

In 2014 I moved to London, shortly after a bereavement, wanting to start my life afresh (in hindsight I was probably running away). I got job at well known cinema and was later moved to a coffee shop concession due to my hard work. I loved it. I can’t pinpoint a moment in time when depression started intruding in my life, it crept up on me slowly, I was tired all the time and would routinely begin crying for no reason. I do remember being in a house wares store, walking happily along with my trolley, a moment later feeling like I was dying. I was experiencing my first panic attack, with strangers around me, wishing there was a magic door to transport me to my mother.

A little further into the year I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression. I remember feeling so weak, angry I would have to take medication and start a course of therapy. Eventually stopping both of these, without the consent of the doctor and all at once. An action that caused my emotional levels to plummet and led to a short visit to a psychiatric facility. NEVER STOP YOUR MEDICATION WITHOUT SPEAKING TO YOUR DOCTOR!

I had attempted my own life, after having a particularly good day, scared of what the next day would bring. I distinctly remember being more upset about being in hospital than the actions I had taken. Realising how bad I had allowed myself to become, the exhaustion and the work ahead of me. The worst moment seeing the scared look on my mother’s face. The next few years were hard work and still be can be. However there has not been a day since that I am not greatful I was unsuccessful on that night. Imagine all the things would have missed, the friends I wouldn’t have made and the family I would have Left.

If you are having concerns, about your own mental health or a loved one, check out the nhs link below. If you are from another country please leave the crisis line to your country in the comments.

Love from,

Mavis x

https://www.nhs.uk/conditions/suicide/

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