Deferring my dissertation

10 May has been a date branded onto my memory for months now. Why? Because it is the deadline date for my dissertation. Or at least, it was.

When I started my third and final year of university, I made a promise to myself that this year it would be different. That I would get organised, manage my time brilliantly, get all my work done on time and meet all my deadlines. When I came back in September I felt wildly optimistic that I would power through the year and emerge on the other end with a first class degree. 

I say wildly optimistic because my time at university hasn’t exactly been a smooth ride. My struggle in Higher Education isn’t really something I have gone into great detail about on this blog. I intend to, one day, after I’ve finished my degree. But for now, those of you who don’t know me personally need to understand that it has not been easy. I’ve struggled socially, mentally and emotionally and I’ve been so tempted to drop out on numerous occasions.

I think the only reason I haven’t dropped out is because I’m stubborn. I have a fierce desire to prove people wrong; to show that I am just as capable as anybody else of doing everything, even getting a degree, despite my Visual impairment. In fact, this often leads to me wanting to overachieve, not just to do as well but to do better than everyone else to prove that I can. What this means is that I end up putting a enormous amount of pressure on myself. Worse, because I feel as if I need to be able to do everything on my own, because nobody expects me to be able to, I used to feel unable to ask for help for fear of being labelled incapable. Thankfully this has gotten much better recently, proven by my action of requesting a deferral for my dissertation.

In September 2015 I felt like requesting a deferral would make me a failure. I thought that getting extensions would make me a failure. I thought that coming out with anything less than a first class degree, would make me a failure. I want to stress again that nobody explicitly said this to me. It was all me, all these expectations and ambitions were in my head. 

I can think of a few reasons why I feel like this, one being that being undermined and degraded on a daily basis because of an impairment that has nothing to do with my intelligence or mental capability makes me feel so patronised that it drives me to want to prove myself. 

I’m not someone who lets been disabled get them down often. I’ve said before on this blog that I feel 100% content with who I am, blindness and all. The main thing that I struggle with is societies attitude and treatment of me because of my Visual impairment. This is why I’ve think I’ve developed this instinctual determination to exceed expectations. Because if you’re treated and meant to feel inferior for 90% of your life, then if you don’t have some kind of drive and faith in yourself, you will start to think of yourself as inferior.

Anyway, back to the point. It was this attitude that make me so reluctant and somewhat frightened of the possibility of requesting extensions. I’m not going to lie, third year terrified me. The pressure and stress I put on myself to be the best in everything often makes it hard for me to fulfil my potential. In first and second year I had been forced to request extensions usually because of institutional failings. With third-year being such an important year, I was determined that I would need to be on the top of my game to make sure that all of my materials were accessible, that all of my note takers were arranged, that I would have a suitable place to study and that everything I would need academically would be put in place. This did happen; ironically, and terms of accessibility my third year has been the easiest of my whole degree. 
What I didn’t count on was me sabotaging myself and my own ability.

 I spent so long focusing on how I could make sure that nothing to do with my visual impairment would get in the way of me meeting all my deadlines, I didn’t stop to think about what I could put in place to ensure that my mental health would not impact on my work either. So that’s what happened. I became ill, I eventually sort help and I was granted a deferral for my dissertation until August.

It was a very hard thing to be for me to accept, because when you’re so used to dealing with a physical disability, a mental illness is a completely different ballgame. One thing I’ve always prided myself on is the fact that in spite of how people treat me, my intelligence and mentality is not compromised by my disability. I have a visual impairment, this is what I tell people; my eyes don’t work, it has nothing to do with my brain. So just because I can’t see you standing in front of me doesn’t mean that I can’t hold a conversation, alright an essay. So, to then be dealing with a mental illness that does impact on that element of myself that I had always depended on being so stable was very disconcerting.

I definitely think a part of the reason I struggled to understand and accept my mental illness is also because of the stigma that surrounds mental health. Even me, as someone who lives with a sensory impairment and therefore nose in some ways what it feels like to be treated differently because of something that is out of your control, still subconsciously harboured these fears and misconceptions of mental illness.

I am however pleased to say that I feel much better. Even though my year didn’t go to plan and I ended up doing the thing that I dreaded most, I’m now quite proud of the fact that I have asked for a deferral. It doesn’t make me less capable, it doesn’t make me less of a person and it doesn’t make me a failure. I think it makes me someone who understands themselves, someone who is self-aware and better for it. 

So even though the 10th of May is almost been and gone, I will carry on chipping away at the D-Word, I will feel proud of the achievement of just completing a dissertation never mind what grade I get, and I will take the obligatory submition selfie in August 😉

A huge congratulations to everyone who has submitted their dissertation so far, everyone on my course who submitted their dissertations today and everyone who will be submitting in the next few weeks. Be proud of yourselves! You did it!

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I’m tired

This is a bit of a different post from the type that are usually right. This is a one off, right it all in one go, let it all out and get it over with kind of post.
Basically, I’m tired. I’m tired of fighting all the time. To be treated with respect, to be viewed as an equal, to have even the basic things like having somewhere to live and being able to ride in a taxi. I’m exhausted by feeling like every decision I make is bigger than it needs to be because of all the possible repercussions and consequences. 

I’m tired of having to worry about whether I tell potential landlords that I have a guide dog or not before or after I view a property. Because if I tell them before, then it gives them the opportunity to pawn me off with some excuse. If I don’t, it gives them the opportunity to discriminate against me to my face. 
I’m tired of being paranoid everytime I book a taxi that I might be faced withconfrontation again, because if I don’t tell them about my guide dog the driver might refuse me. But even if I do tell them, that still might happen. When all I want to do is get from A to B. 
I’m bored of asking people to talk to me, about me, instead of to my friend/family/whoever happens to be with me. Because apparently the fact that I can’t see very well also means that I can’t speak for myself. Or maybe it just means that blindness comes with deafness as well and the problem is that I can’t actually hear what they’re saying?
I’m exasperated by well-meaning members of the public who take it upon themselves to decide what help I need and that they will provide this help, without even asking me first. So that when someone grabs my arm and starts taking me across the road, where I didn’t even want to go in the first place, I then look like the ungrateful bad guy when I try to explain that I was perfectly fine without them.
I’m sick of feeling like every day is a battle; of having to plaster on that polite smile when someone tries to feed/ped/distract my working dog; of walking that fine line between assertive and aggressive when all I’m trying to do is make my voice heard.
Somebody recently asked me if I think I have excepted my disability. I can 100% say that I am perfectly happy and content with who I am, disability and all. What I struggle with is the way that I am treated because of my disability by other people on a daily basis. This isn’t to undermine those wonderful gems who’s help and understanding I truly value. I just hope that, whoever you are reading this, you understand that I’m human and I get tired too.

#HighFiveForAnxiety

Disclaimer: This post is not intended to offend or upset anyone, neither am I a mental health expert or professional. I’m only speaking from my own experience. 
#HighFiveForAnxiety
 
Anxiety UK have recently launched a Twitter campaign to break the stigma surrounding mental health. The #HighFiveForAnxiety hashtag hopes to get people talking about anxiety and mental health; topics rarely discussed in day-to-day conversation. Thousands of people have tweeted sharing personal experiences and messages of support using the hashtag #HighFiveForAnxiety, including me.
I have struggled with Anxiety coupled with Depression for the last couple of years. I receive counselling and practice Mindfulness to manage it as best as I can. Very recently, my Anxiety peaked making me feel more vulnerable and helpless than I have in a long time. Yesterday I was feeling particularly low so took to Twitter to get my mind off things, where I found the #HighFiveForAnxiety trend.
Reading the tweets, I found myself identifying and relating to people I’d never met. I tweeted using the hashtag and felt relief that I’d gotten some feelings off my chest. Then my tweet was retweeted by @AnxietyUk and was favourited by a couple of people. Then my tweet was shared by others and favourited even more times. I was overwhelmed. At a time when Anxiety was making me feel especially lonely and isolated, the #HighFiveForAnxiety campaign made me feel supported in a way that I never expected.
 
What is Anxiety?
 
Anxiety makes me feel alone. I feel ashamed of my weakness and embarrassed of my vulnerability. I feel suffocated, claustrophobic and like I’m trapped in my own head. Irrational thoughts crowd my mind space, but despite knowing that their irrational I can’t rationalise them. I can’t understand how everyone else can go about their lives seemingly care free, when leaving my room or answering the phone are monumental challenges for me. I shake and find it difficult to talk or stay still. I don’t know how to tell anyone because I doubt they’d understand, mainly because I don’t know how to explain.
Before I understood that what I experience is Anxiety and Depression, the worst thing I did was not tell anyone. I find it incredibly difficult to admit my own weakness or make myself vulnerable. The fact that I had stopped bothering to take care of myself and sometimes wouldn’t leave my room for days at a time wasn’t as concerning to me as the thought of actually admitting these facts to someone. Because what if I did and they said that there was something wrong with me? What if they assessed me and put me in the box of ‘mentally ill’? What if confessing my feelings to someone lead them to confirm that I was broken, defective, crazy?
 
Physical health/mental health
 
Imagine that you wake up one morning feeling nauseous. You can’t keep down your breakfast and you feel weak, clammy and all round crappy. What do you do?
You’d probably try to get something from the chemist to relieve your symptoms. You might make an appointment with your GP. You could tell work/school/college that you’ve got a stomach bug and won’t be in today.
Now imagine that you wake up one morning feeling completely unmotivated to get out of bed. You’ve had a terrible night sleep because you were up half the night worrying about anything and everything. The thought of leaving your bed and facing the world makes you panicky because you can’t stop imagining all sorts of horrific scenarios in your head. What do you do?
It’s unlikely that you could get anything over the counter that would stop you feeling anxious or depressed. It’s unlikely that you’d think to ring your GP or call work/school/college to tell them how you’re feeling. It’s likely that you’d try to force yourself to carry on as normal, or you’d stay in bed and burry your head under the pillow trying to ignore that anything is wrong.
 
Why should we talk about mental health?
 
According to the Mind website, 1 in 4 people in the UK will experience a mental health problem each year. It’s more common than you think. Chances are that at least one person you’ve interacted with today have experienced struggles with their mental health. But you don’t realise it, because we don’t talk about it.
When I have my guide dog or my cane with me it’s perfectly obvious to anyone that I am visually impaired. This often prompts comments or questions, it usually makes people more understanding and more willing to help. But there is nothing physical about me that would indicate to you that I experience Anxiety and Depression. You wouldn’t know, unless I told you. And if I told you, what would you think? If I turned to you and said, “This situation is making me really anxious”, what would you say? Would you be shocked? Would you know how to help me? Would you understand what I might need?
When I was at my lowest with Anxiety and Depression, one of my friends was going through very similar feelings. We would talk for hours about our feelings, but we never thought that how we felt might have a name or might not be, for want of a better word, normal. We confessed how we felt to each other, but thought it impossible to admit it to anyone else. Simultaneously, another of my friends was experiencing similar feelings, but neither of us ever discussed it. It was only much later, when we were both able to open up about our experiences and share what was really going on that we realised how much support we could’ve gleaned from each other if we’d only confided in each other.
I’ve learned that one of the most important steps I can take to ensuring that I never return to my lowest point again is by trusting others with my thoughts and feelings. That includes professionals, family and friends and my University. If I’d never spoken up about how I was feeling, I would never have been able to access the support that I needed to improve.
 
If I had come across #HighFiveForAnxiety when I was at my lowest, I know that being able to relate to hundreds of people online and being able to identify with their experiences would’ve made me feel much more secure about admitting my feelings. It would’ve reassured me that I wasn’t alone, that there wasn’t anything wrong with me and that there are things and people that can help. I might’ve told my friend going through the same thing and we could’ve supported each other. I might have felt able to confide in my other friend and could’ve supported them as well. It would’ve given me the courage to talk.
 
Please check out the #HighFiveForAnxiety hashtag and join in by tweeting your thoughts about Anxiety. If you feel that you might be struggling with your mental health, check out the websites below for tips and support.
 
Thank you for reading and remember to comment or tweet me @seemyway15 with any questions about my experience of Anxiety and Depression.
 
Anxiety UK: http://www.anxietyuk.org.uk
 
Mind: http://www.mind.org.uk