Fade taking over the Fight.....

Picture the cancer ride like a roller coaster.....not a plain up and down roller coaster, one of those hair raising, scream your lungs out, fear for your safety, loop de loop, front ways/back ways/side ways kind of coaster!
Some days you would cruise along, other days you would spend becoming closely acquainted with the toilet and more days than I would like I spent vertical either in bed, on the lounge, on the radio table or in a hospital bed. To be honest I couldn't even begin to develop any kind of routine or try and figure out what day was ahead  of me, my body would react differently every step of the way.
I became a master at hiding how I really felt, everyone felt so helpless as it was, I certainly didn't want to make it worse. Besides I was a big believer in trying to stay positive, so I was "faking it" in the hope I would trick myself!! But behind closed doors, it was real, very real.
I tried to maintain normality as best I could, I distracted myself in the early stages with my sewing, I continued heading to the markets selling my teepee's, it was something that made me feel 'normal'.

Raw Heid and Ma Petite Lola take on the English Winter Markets

Christmas came and I was a few weeks into treatment so was slowly starting to feel worse and worse, I felt pretty weak and pretty sad, I am a very festive kinda girl and Christmas is "the most wonderful time of the year", so even though I felt rubbish, I donned a 'merry' jumper and a smile, and stepped out for some festivities..........

Griswold's family Christmas

 Christmas Day rolled round, I was allowed the day off from treatment, YAY! I was a lucky girl, because although cancer had managed to stuff up many plans we had made, Christmas was one to remember! Not just because of cancer, but because we got to spend it with beautiful friends, mum and dad. My sisters and I would joke that I couldn't bare the thought of having a Christmas away from mum and dad so i went and pulled the cancer card to have them with me!! ha ha "Such a hypochondriac."
I also received a Christmas present from all of my friends, organised by one special,  beautiful soul all the way on the other side of the world......I will tell you about that one.....later.

UK family Christmas Happy Snaps

Christmas was lovely, quiet for me, but lovely. The snow was falling, which was perfect because there was no guilt for lying in bed all day....not that I had a choice, but it was comfortable snuggling under the covers when I got back from treatment. 

However the further into the treatment I went the harder it got, why? Because the toxins that remained after the chemo and radio were slowly but surely building up faster than my poor body could fight them.

 Now into January and this is when I felt like my fight was starting to fade. 

This is when there were more times than I care to remember when Mum or Mark would come and check on me and all I could muster up were tears, lots of tears, "I don't want to do this anymore", "I CAN'T do this anymore!" This was followed with a hug, just a hug nothing much needed to be said, just them being there and rubbing my back and saying, "I know Hun, I know". That was the best thing they could have said and done. When you feel like that, you don't want to hear....."Stay positive, you are going well, you'll be right, just keep fighting" (which in a normal situation would be appropriate, nothing about cancer is normal!) At this point I was just exhausted, pissed off with life and pissed off with positivity!!

I remember clearly mum coming up, making the bed around me so it would be comfortable, changing pillow slips and rubbing my back and when I told her I couldn't do this anymore, she simply said "I know Hun, it's just not fair, this is just bloody cruel!"and with that I felt a bit better, oddly enough, hearing some  negativity was just what I needed to make me feel better.

 I had another sleep, woke up, waddled downstairs, gave mum a smile and she passed me yet another bowl of mashed potato (the only thing I could stomach that would give me a little fuel). 

                                                                                                                        

A few more cherished visitors arrived, and I tell you this was just the lift I needed to make me realise that life was continuing outside my cancer world. They sat with me, once again not needing to say anything, just be there. They gave dad a much needed break from the daily drive into the city and they were extremely good entertainment for the kiddies........watching them play with the kids gives me the flash as to what the hell I was actually fighting for, life, family, friends!!

It's nice to look back at these photo's, the happy times in the darkest days, unfortunately I thought my health couldn't get much worse....it did, much worse.

My body was becoming more and more frail with each treatment, blood tests became draining, chemo became near impossible (due to lack of veins) and my roll as a mum and wife was non existent, I couldn't participate in day to day conversations. People talking to me, the phone ringing, any external stimuli I couldn't cope with, the only place I found peace sadly was in my bed.

My haemoglobin wasn't high enough for what they needed it to be for radiotherapy to continue being effective and I was coming up to the last major rounds of treatment, so blood transfusions were required. 

My body was taking a hammering internally, but trauma was now presenting externally as well. Without being to graphic, everything was going straight through me and I was now starting to experience raw skin on the tail end, it was horrific, painful and I wouldn't wish it on anyone.

I grinned and bared it as best I could, then I went in to the Marsden for another blood transfusion and didn't come back out for a few weeks when treatment was complete. Mark,mum and dad were all glad they didn't let me come home, just simply because they knew how much pain I was in. So there I stayed, I completed the last few weeks of radiotherapy and then it was time for the final round of internal Radiotherapy. Yep its sounds as horrible as it was!

My Guardian watching over me

                                                                                                                I would go into it, but I don't think its necessary, this was the most confronting situation I had been in, I was honestly ready to throw the towel in, I felt alone, I was scared, I was in unimaginable pain and I was defeated. I was bed bound in the same position for 48 hours, it was pretty uncomfortable and undignified. I likened the moment they removed the internal radiotherapy to labour, and I can tell you I was as relieved that it was over as the day I had given birth! I returned to my room feeling numb and relieved all at the same time, over the next few days the pain machines were removed, I slowly began to mobilise and was able to shower myself again etc The happiest moment was having nothing attached to me and being able to sit up and hold my babies.             

My babies coming to visit after my last treatment

As quick as it began, it was finished.........the daily visit to the hospital turned into weekly visits, the constant blood tests continued, but were further apart, and slowly but surely I started to feel a little human again. Pretty broken, but human. I was so happy to be finished, the only problem is that , I felt like, OK its over, I should be right now, back to it!! I was, well..... wrong, and it is going to be a very long, hard, and confronting journey figuring out that the Aftermath of Cancer is actually as tough as having cancer itself....for very different reasons.

Under the knife, radiotherapy and the pump!

It was time to head back in to the consult room of bad news, every time I visited the Marsden in those initial weeks the news became more and more intense. 

But a blessing also appeared, my mum and dad had both arrived from Australia in time to support us all. They were now in charge of caring for our two precious bubs and managing the day to day running of the house hold (which to them seemed like the normal thing to do, but to me was the biggest relief!). It allowed Mark to continue heading to work and supporting the family, knowing that we were being cared for the two people that were the highest qualified for that job, my folks!

Dad would drive me into the hospital in the city of London on the days that Mark couldn't make it.(That on its own was a big help and a big deal, as driving in London city is no easy feat!) We would chat about general life, about how pretty the snow looked on the branches of the trees, and basically anything to keep my mind off the reality of the situation. (A father was driving his youngest daughter into a hospital for radio and chemotherapy.) It was comforting to just have him carrying on as normal, chatting away, especially towards the end of treatment, when I was getting extremely fatigued and couldn't even muster the strength to participate in the conversation, I didn't feel like I had to.....it was dad.

So I am back in the 'bad news' room, the operation has shown up that the cancer is also in lymph and ovaries so they will be removed. The decision was not a tough one to make, I was to complete an intensive course of radiotherapy and due to the fact that it would be targeting my reproductive system, it would render the ovaries useless anyway. SO, ovaries gone. I would also start a course of chemotherapy to work hand in hand with the radiotherapy and operations.

The positives, the chemotherapy drug being used was unlikely to cause my hair to fall out. (Major bonus as I had a crap load of hair, and I was an Australian girl living in the UK, I needed that insulation, no question!). The radiotherapy was a new trialled technique, involving targeting a more specific area, meaning that they were trying to reduce the amount of healthy cells that unfortunately are killed along with the cancer cells during treatment, resulting in fewer side effects post treatment.

Also, it meant I could keep my uterus and cervix (not that it would serve much purpose now, but the more organs I can retain the better!!).

The negatives a) Due to my ovaries being removed I was catapulted into the world of menopause at the ripe old age of 32. I remember feeling my first hot flush, I was on an 'outing' from the constraints of bed for a coffee with mum and dad. I was standing at the counter and I felt a warm tingle shoot up my back, up my neck and up over my head. It made me feel anxious, agitated and or course hot!!! Having menopause at any age is bloody unpleasant, but getting it before your biological time is down right cruel! I will however say it again, but I consider myself lucky. I know woman who have naturally hit menopause in their 20's, before they have even thought about kids, and the physical and emotional stress you are left with, is horrific, at least I had two babies. It does to this day make me feel as though I am a young soul walking around in a body that is warn out beyond it's years!

b) I have been left with a stomach and intestines that will need support and monitoring for the rest of my life. 

c)I feel like I wasn't very present in the kids upbringing in their younger years (I know I was there physically, but being that unwell, their was little energy involved), one thing I know I did really well, was show them how much I loved them, they were constantly smothered in kisses! But far out, I look back at pictures, and they were still babies!

bloody cancer!

I felt at first as though chemo was a pretty straight forward thing, head in, get weighed, insert the drip and a new cocktail of my choice would be hung for the day! Most days I went for mojito's, but when I was needing a lift I would get the nurses to tell me it was a piña colada! I would lie back in my recliner and try and snooze the day away so it went faster. I would feel 'normal' the day after having the treatment, a little tired, but that's it, but day 2-5 were the worst, I was exhausted, nauseous, vomiting and the rest (you get the picture)!  day 6 wasn't so bad and by day 7 I was feeling ok again, just in time to head back for more. All the while continuing travelling in every day for radiotherapy. But the further I got into treatment, the more intense it became, and I guess that is what you picture chemo to be like, and boy it didn't disappoint the stereotype!

 But as it got worse, that's when family and friends stepped up their game, I experienced support in every way imaginable, phone calls, texts, video's, Skype, food, and so much more to come. I had one special day when my dear friend came in to a treatment with me, sat with me to chat and just sit when I couldn't chat. Then walks in a gift  that I will never forget, a beautician their to  give me a facial and do my nails!

 I truly have amazing thoughtful, beautiful souls around me and I will forever be grateful!

  Ha ha ha....my entertainment 

The Radiotherapy was alot harder for me as it was a daily occurrence, lying still in the exact same position....they found this position as I had been tattooed on day 1 on my hips and pelvis. Just a little dot, that stays  with me, like my little daily reminder of the fight I won, those along with my operation scars on my abdomen. I would lie on the table, stare up at the illuminated green garden picture on the roof, and after a while close my eyes and do some visualisation.
I strongly  believe you should never underestimate  the power of the mind, this was one thing I COULD control. Imagine the inner health plus animated creatures and that's what I had in my head,  and they were at war. One side waere the cancer cells, they were dressed in black, with  pitch forks and the healthy cells were dressed in army greens and had massive swords, they would fight the whole time the machine was rotating around me, beeping and whirling. The healthy cells would massacre the cancer cells every time,  and that made me smile!!!!!                                                     


I guess the biggest thing about treatment that I wasn't prepared for was the way it sneaks up on you! At first I thought I was killing it, soldiering through treatments, but as the toxins built up in my system and my immune system was taking a battering (which wasn't great before I started) the sicker I got, I thought I was fighting in the beginning, but really it was just the warm up, as the saying goes.......'shit was about to get real!!'

Ding ding ding, Round 1, FIGHT!

I often use the phrase "I was lucky", seems kind of funny to say anything about Cancer is lucky, but there are a lot of factors that contribute to me feeling this way.
 The biggest factor is that I am still alive, I am here to tell my story, some of my family and closest friends parents have lost their battle with the C word, and its heartbreaking, so for this reason, "I am lucky".
The next major factor would be that I had treatment at one of the best specialist oncology hospitals in Europe The Royal Marsden Hospital, by an amazing team of Professors and Doctors. http://www.royalmarsden.nhs.uk/pages/home.aspx



For this "I am lucky", I could have just been referred to the local hospital to have my treatment carried out, but I still believe things happen for a reason and because the type of cancer they found in my cervix was not the most common type of cancer found in this area a team of specialists took an interest in my case. This lead to my transfer to The Royal Marsden, which also meant very little waiting time, within about a week of finding out I had cancer I had my first appointment with my Surgeon and a plan was being created for my care.

My first appointment was with a wonderful man named Dr John Butler and an amazing nurse Olive Griffiths. Walking through the doors of the Marsden for the first time was a bizarre experience, I know I felt nervous, but remember, nurse Heidi is in the drivers seat by now! I remember passing people through the hospital thinking, "Poor things, I wonder what cancer they have, how horrible, they must feel so scared and they are so young!"  Not considering for one minute that I am one of 'those' people, and I was actually one of the youngest.

Dr Butler and Olive were extremely welcoming, calming and warm, which was just what was needed. Mark and I sat, listened and realistically probably took in every third word that they said.  None of the words that were being said frazzled me, because I knew all the medical terminology. Mark was understandably tense, but I just nodded until a particular question was asked. I was like, "Shit, spark up Heid it's a very intense personal question, you'll have to take this one!" Nurse Heidi took a break for a moment.
Dr Butler has been through the facts about where we are at with the information we currently have. I have cancer in the cervix, but the type of cells aren't often found in the area they were in, so looks like we are going to take a 3 pronged approach, surgery, chemotherapy and radiation!
Then he hits me with, "Radiotherapy will be a major component in us beating this cancer, I guess what we need to establish before anything else goes ahead, are you happy with your family as it is?"
Ummm.......... what? What did he just say? Ummm...........sorry, what?
Marks already answering and then nurse Heidi stands up again and pats me on the back, sit down luv, you're alright, I'll get it!
I tune back in Dr Butler and Mark are talking "The radiotherapy, as it will be focused in the female reproductive area, will hit the ovaries and you will be unable to have more children."
Mark speaks up first "Well if that's what happens and it means I still have Heidi around then lets start now!" And I chime in " Yes, we wanted more children, but I need to just focus on the healthy, beautiful blessings I have now and get through this....alive".

Its funny how your initial instincts are always right....but doesn't mean they are always the easiest. My head was saying go ahead with what you know will give you the best odd's for an outcome which involves me still being around for my husband and babies, my heart is screaming (quietly) say no, say no, we want more babies, tell them, we have actually been trying, maybe they can........ Nurse Heidi bops emotion on the head, 'snap out of it'. And there starts the internal struggle that I will carry with me, always.

I have now been told that first things first, there will be an operation to just have a look around inside and see what we are actually dealing with. So the next day, I am back in hospital for my first procedure. This doesnt' phase me at all, once again I guess this is another time I say "I am lucky", I am a peri operative nurse, so going into theatre I actually feel quite calm, cracking jokes with the staff and Dr Butler asking me if I want a job when I have finished beating cancer! (really did love that man!)
First procedure down.........unfortunately turned out that I was in for a lot more than I had originally hoped, but still I choose to fight!

Self Preservation....The mind is a funny, powerful thing!

So, we get given the news that nobody wants to hear, and quite frankly nobody really expects to hear, we got dealt the cancer card!
I say we because it becomes very apparent at this stage that it isn't just me that gets cancer, yes I was the one that went through the physical stuff (and I am not taking away from the severity of that) but my husband, the kids, our parents, siblings and all our closest friends went through every step with me, suffering when I did, and doing their best to lift me when I needed.

Telling my parents was one of the toughest things to do, I can still remember telling them we need to skype and the look on their faces when I said that shit C word. Mum said (as all mums would) "oh hunni, are you okay?" and dad (as you could expect him to say!) "Well of course she's not alright hun, jesus!" That was probably the best response, it kind of made me smile. Within a day or so they were on their way to Sydney to get on a flight to live with us for as long as we needed, an open ended ticket transporting my two guardian angels!
 Telling Marks folks wasn't much easier, but Mark's mum's nursing side soon kicked in and she was trying to find every known solution to 'fix' me, speaking with all the medical team she had around her for their advice, opinions etc, because "nothing was going to take their Heid's"

I say they were the toughest to tell, but only because I knew it would break them to have one of their children suffering, but honestly telling anyone was bloody hard for me. I used to feel so so sad having to tell anyone, funnily enough, not worried about what I was about to go through but because I knew it would upset them and they would be worried about me (and most friends and family lived oceans away). I didn't want anyone worrying about me!! Probably because A) I had always been the go to girl to help fix problems, a good ear to listen/shoulder to cry on, hence why I am a nurse!! and B) Once a woman becomes a mother they seem to loose all ability to give a shit about themselves above anyone else (especially their babies!)
Bizarre thought process to have right? Maybe to some, but for me it was self preservation, it was holding onto that familiar part of myself which was the carer, in this time of chaotic unknowns!
I think this is something anyone going through a tough time will resonate with, a basic human necessity is comfort, we always feel safest when we feel comfortable, even if sometimes the thing that makes us feel comfortable isn't good for us, we still feel better when its with us.  Examples: A mother of a newborn who really needs to have a sleep when her baby has one, but instead wants to feel like she is still in control of her 'normal' life, so runs around cleaning, doing washing or even entertaining friends. This isn't what she needs, nor is it what is best for her, but she does it non the less because it makes her feel comfortable! The problem with this behaviour is that soon enough the energy runs out, she becomes exhausted, she looses all control and life seems in a spin. (Yes, this is something I experienced) I repeat the process again when I am diagnosed (and now in hindsight) all the way through my treatment. I take the process on as if its something that is happening to someone else, I cant deal with all the what if's, I have babies and a husband, the what if's petrify me. So I remain the carer.....worry about others worrying about me! That works.....right?? Well, for a little while at least.



Thinking back when I was telling my sisters and close friends I don't even think I cried, I was just very matter of fact and kept saying, "It's alright, don't cry, I'm going to be fine, I've got this". I didn't feel sad as such, just in self preservation mode, a mode where I held everything at arms length so as to not get too overwhelmed. I then started making Mark tell people, or I would email people as I couldn't bear hearing anyone else's sorrow over the phone. I even got all my football family to come over for morning tea so I could tell them all at once, because I couldn't bear doing it individually.
I did cry then.....that was tough, all their beautiful faces looking up at me with dis belief and all wanting to fix me! They were some of the strongest support that got me through that time and they may not know it, so now they can realise, that the little gestures or hugs, food and books all helped.

When your overwhelmed sometimes the gestures that seem the smallest to you, may just be the most important to the one struggling. This was probably one of the only times I cried, that was before I actually started treatment.

It was about time to put my game face on....... Heidi takes a metaphorical seat and nurse Heidi jumps up! Right Biatch going by the name of Cancer, throw what you got at me I'm about to start swinging....HARD!

Lets give a little background

In 2009 my hubby, Mark signed a contract to continue his rugby league career on the other side of the world. Excited, nervous and eager to move on to another chapter we packed up and set of on our next adventure together. Being together from 15/16 years of age we already had quite a few adventures up our  sleeves, but this one was set to be VERY different right from the start. 

I was pregnant with our first bub, as most parents are, we were pumped and could not wait, anxious a little nervous, but more than anything ecstatic. Becoming parents was one of the first things we talked about at the ripe old age of 15/16 years......one day when we get married......how many kids do you want to have?......so young, so sweet, and oh so in love!
We lived in south Wales, no family around, but we were lucky to have a very lovely crew around us in the players, wives and girlfriends at the club. Our parents flew over for the birth of Raleigh, our first born BIG boy! The first year was a whirl wind as most new parents experience! Having a new born with all your support networks around is stressful enough, so doing it alone was pretty intense, I think we did a bloody good job, but hindsight is amazing and looking back I wish i could hug myself and say its ok to ask for help.
We then moved to Chester with a club that needed some new direction, new leadership.
SO there was  stress on our family with all the unknowns of the club, as well as a new baby and now a new town!

Its completely normal (right?) to at this stage, ignore listening to your own body and stressors and decide another bub is what we want most (and we did). With a little persistence we were blessed with baby number 2 another BIG baby girl, Jolie.
The excitement in our life is at an all time high (excitement/delirium, who could tell the difference). It is at this point (once again in hindsight) I feel my health started to take a turn for the worst. My body had taken a battering with the births of my beautiful but huge babies! Both nearly 10 pounds and births that were long and overdue, I can tell you now, there ain't nothing natural about childbirth!! I mean bits came out, bits got stuck in, bits got torn, bits got poked and prodded, and for weeks to follow weeks were sore and down right UGLY! Now that's not even diving into the hormonal side, I was a she devil, up and down like a yo yo, perfectly delightful to those in public and then at home my head would spin 360's like something from the exorcist when hubby asked what do you think we should have for dinner! Thought's would fly through my head that were beyond crazy, which I kept ignoring and it would be another 12 months before I would be told by my doctor I had post natal depression.

Let's recap (for my benefit....holy crap, I'm already exhausted and I haven't even scratched the surface!) Living in a foreign country, two small children, no family around, and now Marks work is proving to provide the most stress to our family! I get sick....again, this time I am taken to hospital by ambulance, Mark holding our 4 month old and our 2 year old watching me head off for god know's what reason! I am told I had an attack of pancreatitis, following this is months of tests, a juggle to continue breastfeeding with my milk supply dropping and me feeling like an exhausted hypochondriac.
After all of this we find out that the owners of Mark's rugby league team, the Celtic Crusaders had been using our hard earned money that was meant to be being placed in an account for us as a retirement fund, had been stolen and they were using our money to pay bills at the club........and to this day we still don't have our money. Yep that's right, a club that is part of the English Super League was able to defraud it's players of their hard earned money, the money that was going to set our family up on return to Aus. 
I still firmly believe to this day that the stress caused by this club on my family was a major contributing factor into my illness.......we will save that for another blog, it gets my blood boiling!

It's time to move on, needing a fresh new start for our strong little family Mark signs with London, and its move number 3. Now for all intents of purpose this blog is highlighting all the stressful points during our time overseas, so I can paint a picture of the health path that led to where I am today, but let me assure you we had some bloody amazing times whilst we were there too! Memories that will never be outshone by the bad times!
We are now living in London, happy, seemingly healthy, and making more and more beautiful friends, which will soon become part of our strong family network.
It is in this first year in London I am told that I have post natal depression and it has probably been present since having Raleigh, I actually feel quite relieved and positive about life moving forward, surely I'll start feeling a million dollars soon. 
Jolie is now 16 months old and I have been having a little discharge for a while now, and Mark and I make the bold decision to try for baby number 3....or how did Mark put it, lets practice without protection. So I made an appointment to have a pap smear and have everything checked as it had been 2 years since my last check.
A few days later we head back to Aus on a holiday for the off season of footy. I was unwell the whole trip, but so were the kids, however I couldn't fight mine and ended up with pneumonia, I became well enough to fly back to the UK, AWESOME!

Without realising this is the point life will start to change, dramatically!
We are jet lagged and start to unpack and I casually shuffle through the mail that has piled up behind the door (mailboxes in the door, quite a cute English thing!). There are 3 letters from the doctors, "We have scheduled an appointment for as follow up regarding an abnormal result on your pap smear",
"Your appointment is on the ........", "Dear Mrs  Bryant, you have missed your appointment, please contact us to reschedule".  
Hmmmmmm, okay shit, that's never happened before, my pap's have always been fine. I still wasn't majorly concerned, being a nurse, I know its fairly common for a pap to come back with abnormal cells showing up and there are quite simple procedures to take care of it. 
I have my appointment and after being up in stirrups with alot  of hmmm's and ummm let me just take a biopsies, my concern was starting to rise. My nurse then explains she is concerned with what she has seen and I will be contacted withing the week with a follow up.
That was a long week! I was phoned on the Friday and told to come in on Monday for an appointment with a Doctor and bring someone with me........great, nothing like a good weekend to google all worse case scenarios! 
Mark and I head into the doctors......."I'm sorry you have cancer" the words know one wants to hear. My initial reaction was to giggle (a little hysterically) and ask if they had the correct file? Mark's initial reaction..... so when does she have her operation to take everything out?
After this news, its hard to explain, but life when into a bit of slo mo, kind of blurry. 
Cervical Cancer, ok, I got my head around  that, and a number of people kept saying, "well if your going to get cancer, that's  the one you want!" pfffffft umm ok, cool, lucky me!  I get what thye were saying and trying to make me feel better, but sometimes things are better left unsaid. Problem is, with every doctors appointment that followed the news just seemed to get worse, this meant Cervical Cancer, which had spread to Ovaries and Lymph node. So a little op turned into surgery, Chemo and Radiotherapy. 

This brings us to the C word, I actually still hate saying Cancer, I feel like it doesn't even deserve a title! ha ha I had a husband and two kids, there was no other option but to FIGHT, and fight hard and fast, no serious thought involved, it was a no brainer, lets kick its ass with every option available to us  so I am still around to watch my babies grow! 

SO Fight or fade, at this point I chose to Fight........

Time for pen to paper......(fingers to keyboard)

When life takes you on a mammoth roller coaster ride and you manage to come through the loop de loop with only a little vomit on your lap, you must ask your self the question, do you get off the ride and clean myself up or do you sit in the putrid and think about how much you stink??
Do you fight or do you fade??

I have recently come through the other side of a mammoth ride and I am still asking myself the same question. So it's time to start putting all my thoughts out into the universe and see if I can A) give myself an answer and B) maybe help someone else going through the same journey realise what they are feeling is "normal".....whatever that is?

Everyone is fighting a hard battle! Each individuals battle is hard to them, it doesnt matter how small it may seem to an outsider, to each individual their problems are hard, and so in some way this blog will resonate with everyone! I am realising more and more the older I get that anxiety, depression, anger, stress is not selective, it doesnt only affect those with the 'big' problems, it affects everyone in some way, for a particular length of time. How you deal with it is the pivotal factor.