Steady My Heart.

My name is Laura. It's the name I was given 24 years ago when I was born. But recently, through studying Ruth I've been prompted to think about all the other things I have "named" myself and defined myself with over the years. I am a nurse. A carer. Lover of babies. Reader. Saved by grace. A friend. Loved. A creative. Knitter. Chatterbox. Writer. Wonky bodied. Redeemed. Forgiven. And many more - but I am also... Fat. A burden. Ugly. A failure. Unworthy. Anxious. Depressed. And this list too could go on. I so often tend to cling to the negative names and dwell on the tough parts of life and forget the first list of things. Reading Ruth I realised I am often like Naomi...I take the name of "Mara" or bitterness. At the moment, I am physically and emotionally exhausted; my current placement on a mental health unit is really challenging me and like Naomi there are definitely times where I can't possibly imagine getting through this or how God will possi...

So my last post ended, what next? And the past month has revealed an answer to that. Since starting University (again...) in September, I've been in therapy trying to address some of the issues that keep me stuck in a cycle of  recovery and relapse with my mental health. The thing is...I am capable of living and functioning like a normal person, but that doesn't change the distressing mess that occurs inside of my brain. So, in reality - the times when I'm "recovered"? I'm actually just well enough to hide what's going on beneath the surface. That in itself has been really difficult to come to terms with. Life has been very challenging over the years and the past significantly dictates how I am currently living in the present. My dysfunctional relationship with food, my incredibly poor body image, my crippling anxiety and need to feel safe, my constant need for affirmation and reassurance, the inability to rest and just be. Next is some really hard h...

I sit at the back of church. I am broken and I am hurting but I cannot be vulnerable again. I'm tired of the same old vulnerabilty, the same old tears, the same old reassurances that "it won't always be like this"..."it's part of His plan". Whose plan? How do I trust in a plan when I feel like I'm forgotten and dying? You know when your debit card expires and you bend it back it and forth until it breaks? I feel kind of like that. I feel like expired in August 2014 and I have been irreparably changed since. I feel like I've been stretched and bent and I am in so many little broken pieces I can't ever imagine being whole again. I can't worship openly or genuinely because all that would consist of is tears. I go to church, I sing the words (sometimes), I do what others expect and want of me. Today, this evening I couldn't even honestly tell you who I'm supposed to be worshipping. Academically yes...but it has been SO long since ...

Back in October, I was helping out with Adventurers (aka children's church). I've been seriously missing my Brighton babies and this was the first time I'd got to spend with young children since moving. The topic for the morning? Does God know what will happen in my future? My group are 4 and 5 year olds and yet they amaze me with wisdom and spending time with them teaches me, as much as I hope I help to teach them. I've been meaning to write since...but life has been overwhelming and anxiety has somewhat taken hold once more. Can't sleep tonight so finally sitting down to spend sometime thinking back on what those wonderful little people taught me. As a group we were mulling over a few questions. Firstly...whether we need to worry about bad stuff happening? There were a variety of answers from making friends to worrying about having nightmares. Rather than knowing whether or not to worry - the children tended to share some of their fears and worries. And so...

Yesterday, I read this article about having cancer in your 20's and although there are some marked differences, it also in part rang true to being diagnosed and living with a life altering long term condition. For me, being diagnosed with autonomic dysfunction at the age of 20 was initially a relief - I finally had an answer, but equally? It is a diagnosis that will stick with me forever and that gives me troublesome symptoms every day. At the beginning of my 20's my life was put on hold. I lost my degree, I struggled to maintain friendships and a social life and became deeply depressed about how this illness was stealing my life before I'd even truly got started. I contemplated moving back home to live with my Mum but desperately didn't want to lose my independence. However, in not losing my independence I was thrown into the tricky world of benefits and financial hardship. I had no savings to rely on, I was sick enough not to work full time, not sick enough to qual...

I look back on certain photos from my time as a toddler and long to have that freedom once more. To lack inhibitions and fear and the "what if's" that so often overwhelm every day life seems to be a really joyful time. I obviously don't really have any clear memories from this time - but from what other people have said, I was a fairly anxious child throughout primary school. To an extent - managing anxiety is all I've ever known as it's all I can ever remember. I wonder when I made that transition from joyful toddler to anxious child. I've had my faith in God for many many years (though not quite as long as I've had my old friend anxiety!) but so often I find it hard to trust in God and allow that to alleviate my fears and anxieties. Over the past two months I've found some of that childlike faith again, upped and left Brighton to start a new chapter in Worcester surrounded by friends, closer to family and part of a fab church that I really...

First placement ended a couple of weeks back. Along with it came two assignment deadlines and an exam coupled with a giant lump of pure exhaustion and a vomiting bug. Looking back over my first placement, there were some absolutely fantastic memories - I never thought I would love stroke quite as much as I did, but the highlight definitely came on my final shift. For 8 weeks, I attended every acute stroke call that occurred on my shifts in the hope of seeing a specialist procedure called thrombolysis. A few years ago, almost everyone who had a stroke was thrombolysed, but as research has continued it's use has become more limited because it has significant risk factors and contraindications. By the final week of placement I had essentially given up on seeing the procedure...but I lost hope too soon! I arrived early for my final shift of this block to hear that a patient was in CT having had an acute deterioration overnight - probably a stroke. The patient had been assessed with...