Saturday 23 September 2017
jean murray: Hello, my name is Jean, I am a survivor of Depress...
jean murray: Hello, my name is Jean, I am a survivor of Depress...: I am grateful for the opportunity to write this blog this morning with information, knowledge and first hand experience of a breakdown and a...
Hello, my name is Jean, I am a survivor of Depression!
I am grateful for the opportunity to write this blog this morning with information, knowledge and first hand experience of a breakdown and a recovery from Depression!
Depression in a simple description is when the brain is unable to function properly, effecting how a sufferer feels, thinks and acts. In the early stages, thoughts and emotions are erratic and a sufferer can appear sad and the body lethargic. As depression takes hold, the sufferer withdraws into one's self emotionally and is physically unable to perform the simplest of task.
Depression is a disease like any other disease in that the symptoms can be small at first and easy enough to hide but if left untreated, it will only get worse. It causes a huge amount of emotional pain to the sufferer and their family and friends. And that was me.
The first time that I mentioned to my doctor that I might have depression was twenty seven years ago, when I was twenty three. My first child was one years of age and I spent most of his first year sad and angry. Post natal depression were new words around Ireland at the time but I suspected that I might have it. I give the Doctor his due, he suggested I go down the route of self help first instead of giving me anti-depressants. He knew my history well.
I, like many other north side Dublin kids, grew up in poverty. Fear was a constant in our daily lives. Kids living in fear learn to hide their emotions from the outside world. It was hard for our parents to meet our emotional needs in the 70's. They didn't know what emotional needs were.
Poverty breathes poverty and education was basic in Catholic homes with thirteen children being the average size family. And as we all know now, education is the key in life. The more we know about issues, the more we understand them.
I had learned to hide my true feelings from even myself, so I was at least twenty years neglecting my own emotional needs at that point in my life. Eventually these emotions surface in a negative guise. 'I had reasons to be sad and angry,' The Doc had said. I needed to figure things out. He was a wise man.
I took his advice well and I was delighted to join a self help group.
I didn't think at the time how long it was going to take me to be better. I knew there wasn't going to be a quick fix though as I had been feeling low ever since puberty. Although I was still able to appear happy and even confident to the outside world.
I felt immediately comforted by the support of the group. They helped me see where I maybe needed to change a few things about me and my life in order to feel better.
So I began there. But I was a complex case. I really had no idea of the depth I needed to go to change. And even if I did figure out what I had to change, I had absolutely no idea how I would do it. I didn't really know who I was or what I was about at all.
I followed the road of self help and counselling for the next couple of decades and as my life was entwined with a husband and children, I found it was getting tougher. I could still just about do physical things, go to work, get to functions, get the kids to their school and activities but I just couldn't figure out how to meet everybody's emotional needs. That saddened me and I felt guilty. 'Why wasn't I naturally good at motherhood?' Or, 'Why did I find marriage so difficult?' And, 'How come I couldn't succeed in the workplace?' The counselling helped. She tried to get me to compartmentalise each emotion and try rationalise it out. But my brain was full of all my worries and my fears jumping around together and my constant feelings of failure and self hatred.
I finally resorted to medication when I was thirty eight. I just couldn't do it on my own. It really helped my symptoms but I knew I still had to help myself by going to counselling and doing the emotional work. But I think I stalled on working on myself at that time, because the medication was doing the job for me. After a couple of years, the Doc suggested I come off my meds, I was happy to do it. I was feeling good. But it wasn't too long before the dark clouds of negativity came back into my mind. And much worse than before.
I was working full-time, I was a mother, a wife and I was not coping with any of it. I was crying all the time. And I was hating myself more and more because I was so weak. And the guilt was bad. Don't under estimate guilt. It can be soul destroying. I constantly felt guilty for not being good at anything and with that, worry and fear were racing around my head. I didn't want to go back on medication then, I wanted to fight my depression.
I began to have panic attacks.
It still amazes me of the power of my mind. I couldn't figure out my head, so, my mind began to give my body physical signs for me to see. For me to stop everything. For me to keep on trying to figure me out! For me to get to the root of me!
My panic attacks came in the guise of paralysing feelings. My legs became numb and I couldn't move. I literally felt like I was having a stoke. And then other times, there was a massive pain in my chest that I was sure had to be a heart attack.
My mind was out of control. And I was terrified of what else it would do.
I think I might have been about a year off my meds then and I was getting worse. I didn't want to see people. I couldn't receive phone calls. I couldn't read text messages. I couldn't listen to the radio or the news. I couldn't talk to anyone. I couldn't go to the Doctor. I was aware that I looked really bad and that maybe he would suggest hospital and I didn't want to go there and leave my kids, not for a minute. At that point depression is very visible. Your weakness is on view for all. There is it. You're the ultimate failure. You just can't cope in life. And that is not easy to admit to anyone.
I know on the TV programs, they say talk to someone, but you can't talk and rationalise what's going on in your own mind at that point to yourself never mind anyone else. You're too ill. It's not like you're a bit tearful and you can tell your best friends you're broken hearted over a failed relationship, or you lost your job, or you've gained weight, or you even have the baby blues.
This is a total different kettle of fish. And I can totally understand why a lot of people die from depression. And I don't say take their own life, because I know for sure, they are not in control of their own mind when their mind is that ill. Your mind is dying, just like a pancreatic cancer. And the symptoms spread through your body just the same. Your body becomes so weak that you can't do the simplest of chores like wash yourself. You lose your appetite just the same. You can't go outside for a little walk and fresh air, because your body is so sick. This is probably the worse type of disease in that it effects your mind and body.
I know this, because I was there. My mind was very ill. I had no idea what it was capable of.
That's why I went back on medication.
But this time it took me at least six weeks to start to feel a little better. And this time I knew I had to do the work.
I took full responsibility for my illness. I asked God to help me.
I stopped blaming myself, people and situations. I forced myself to walk. And while I walked I began to brainwash myself into positive thinking. Gratitude. Acceptance of me. Forgiveness of myself. And to like me, warts and all. Because I had hated me for a long time. I had to banish negative thinking. After a while, I felt myself finally getting better.
Life is still full of challenges, but I've learned to just focus on the day at hand. I don't compare myself or my children to others. I accept me as me and my husband as he and my children as they.
My life is where God wants me to be.
After five years on anti-depressants, I know I'm probably really ready to come off them now but I'm just not brave enough yet.
Jean xxx
Depression in a simple description is when the brain is unable to function properly, effecting how a sufferer feels, thinks and acts. In the early stages, thoughts and emotions are erratic and a sufferer can appear sad and the body lethargic. As depression takes hold, the sufferer withdraws into one's self emotionally and is physically unable to perform the simplest of task.
Depression is a disease like any other disease in that the symptoms can be small at first and easy enough to hide but if left untreated, it will only get worse. It causes a huge amount of emotional pain to the sufferer and their family and friends. And that was me.
The first time that I mentioned to my doctor that I might have depression was twenty seven years ago, when I was twenty three. My first child was one years of age and I spent most of his first year sad and angry. Post natal depression were new words around Ireland at the time but I suspected that I might have it. I give the Doctor his due, he suggested I go down the route of self help first instead of giving me anti-depressants. He knew my history well.
I, like many other north side Dublin kids, grew up in poverty. Fear was a constant in our daily lives. Kids living in fear learn to hide their emotions from the outside world. It was hard for our parents to meet our emotional needs in the 70's. They didn't know what emotional needs were.
Poverty breathes poverty and education was basic in Catholic homes with thirteen children being the average size family. And as we all know now, education is the key in life. The more we know about issues, the more we understand them.
I had learned to hide my true feelings from even myself, so I was at least twenty years neglecting my own emotional needs at that point in my life. Eventually these emotions surface in a negative guise. 'I had reasons to be sad and angry,' The Doc had said. I needed to figure things out. He was a wise man.
I took his advice well and I was delighted to join a self help group.
I didn't think at the time how long it was going to take me to be better. I knew there wasn't going to be a quick fix though as I had been feeling low ever since puberty. Although I was still able to appear happy and even confident to the outside world.
I felt immediately comforted by the support of the group. They helped me see where I maybe needed to change a few things about me and my life in order to feel better.
So I began there. But I was a complex case. I really had no idea of the depth I needed to go to change. And even if I did figure out what I had to change, I had absolutely no idea how I would do it. I didn't really know who I was or what I was about at all.
I followed the road of self help and counselling for the next couple of decades and as my life was entwined with a husband and children, I found it was getting tougher. I could still just about do physical things, go to work, get to functions, get the kids to their school and activities but I just couldn't figure out how to meet everybody's emotional needs. That saddened me and I felt guilty. 'Why wasn't I naturally good at motherhood?' Or, 'Why did I find marriage so difficult?' And, 'How come I couldn't succeed in the workplace?' The counselling helped. She tried to get me to compartmentalise each emotion and try rationalise it out. But my brain was full of all my worries and my fears jumping around together and my constant feelings of failure and self hatred.
I finally resorted to medication when I was thirty eight. I just couldn't do it on my own. It really helped my symptoms but I knew I still had to help myself by going to counselling and doing the emotional work. But I think I stalled on working on myself at that time, because the medication was doing the job for me. After a couple of years, the Doc suggested I come off my meds, I was happy to do it. I was feeling good. But it wasn't too long before the dark clouds of negativity came back into my mind. And much worse than before.
I was working full-time, I was a mother, a wife and I was not coping with any of it. I was crying all the time. And I was hating myself more and more because I was so weak. And the guilt was bad. Don't under estimate guilt. It can be soul destroying. I constantly felt guilty for not being good at anything and with that, worry and fear were racing around my head. I didn't want to go back on medication then, I wanted to fight my depression.
I began to have panic attacks.
It still amazes me of the power of my mind. I couldn't figure out my head, so, my mind began to give my body physical signs for me to see. For me to stop everything. For me to keep on trying to figure me out! For me to get to the root of me!
My panic attacks came in the guise of paralysing feelings. My legs became numb and I couldn't move. I literally felt like I was having a stoke. And then other times, there was a massive pain in my chest that I was sure had to be a heart attack.
My mind was out of control. And I was terrified of what else it would do.
I think I might have been about a year off my meds then and I was getting worse. I didn't want to see people. I couldn't receive phone calls. I couldn't read text messages. I couldn't listen to the radio or the news. I couldn't talk to anyone. I couldn't go to the Doctor. I was aware that I looked really bad and that maybe he would suggest hospital and I didn't want to go there and leave my kids, not for a minute. At that point depression is very visible. Your weakness is on view for all. There is it. You're the ultimate failure. You just can't cope in life. And that is not easy to admit to anyone.
I know on the TV programs, they say talk to someone, but you can't talk and rationalise what's going on in your own mind at that point to yourself never mind anyone else. You're too ill. It's not like you're a bit tearful and you can tell your best friends you're broken hearted over a failed relationship, or you lost your job, or you've gained weight, or you even have the baby blues.
This is a total different kettle of fish. And I can totally understand why a lot of people die from depression. And I don't say take their own life, because I know for sure, they are not in control of their own mind when their mind is that ill. Your mind is dying, just like a pancreatic cancer. And the symptoms spread through your body just the same. Your body becomes so weak that you can't do the simplest of chores like wash yourself. You lose your appetite just the same. You can't go outside for a little walk and fresh air, because your body is so sick. This is probably the worse type of disease in that it effects your mind and body.
I know this, because I was there. My mind was very ill. I had no idea what it was capable of.
That's why I went back on medication.
But this time it took me at least six weeks to start to feel a little better. And this time I knew I had to do the work.
I took full responsibility for my illness. I asked God to help me.
I stopped blaming myself, people and situations. I forced myself to walk. And while I walked I began to brainwash myself into positive thinking. Gratitude. Acceptance of me. Forgiveness of myself. And to like me, warts and all. Because I had hated me for a long time. I had to banish negative thinking. After a while, I felt myself finally getting better.
Life is still full of challenges, but I've learned to just focus on the day at hand. I don't compare myself or my children to others. I accept me as me and my husband as he and my children as they.
My life is where God wants me to be.
After five years on anti-depressants, I know I'm probably really ready to come off them now but I'm just not brave enough yet.
Jean xxx
Thursday 14 September 2017
A different day of life!
I'm going to tell you about my day today. I think it was pretty hectic and very stressful, but you can be the judge of it really.
Some months back, I left a really good pair of riding boots belonging to Yasmin behind on one of her events. Today, I was set off to Mullingar to buy a new pair of the same pair of boots, having saved the costly amount for the lovely boots as they were also very comfortable.
I decided to bring my two huskies along for the ride as they would delight in a lovely run in Mullingar's lush fields while we were there.
I had a very busy day in store for me as I had also offered a friend some help in moving his pony to Dunleer in the afternoon ; My day was going to have to run on-time as I had to be back at my daughter's school for 3pm.
All was going to plan until we had to load the bold pony, who doesn't like to travel in horse boxes. It took a half hour of gentle persuasion to get her in;
I found my way handy enough to Piperstown, we unloaded the pony and let the woofies have another little run before I set on my way home.
Somewhere in Slane I sensed my jeep was giving me a little trouble. There were no visible signs of distress, but I suspected maybe some gear trouble as I felt it wouldn't go over second gear. It finally stalled and cut out just close to Asbourne. My phone had also died so I couldn't contact anyone. Like a crazy person, I waved down passing traffic on the lonely back road. Not fearing for my life at all, but quite concerned about my daughter's three o clock pick up, my traffic duty and my poor dogs who were quite upset in the back cab of the jeep. Oh yes, I was also quite worried that the jeep would blow up. I don't know why exactly. Isn't that what happens?
Thankfully, kind passer by's lent me their phone so that I could call my sister. And she could then call AA. Yes, I would take the help of alcoholic's anominus or drugs anominus or anyone else, because I was very thirsty and tired and border line very close to losing it. AndI was also hungry. The dogs were very stressed out too.
I was on a very skinny back road from the Snailbox, pulling a horse box, when my engine died. I then noticed smoke coming from my bonnet. Seriously Mr. God, or Mr. Devil, is there no body else you can wind up and have a laugh with? Because I am 50 and I really don't have that much time or energy to waste!!! And I am not a funny person. I don't laugh. there are very few things I find funny. Are you trying to make me laugh? So stop, it's never going to work.
Eventually, a big huge truck coming by on skinny road stopped to help. he said he had to help because he couldn't reverse and couldn't go forward, it was for his own benefit! Nevertheless it was very nice of him.
After lifting up my bonnet and checking my engine, he said it didn't look good, 'ya think!' He said I would make it to a garage in Ashbourne. I barely made it. there was smoke billowing from the bonnet and I chugged along into the garage.
I called my husband and he was adamant that I was the cause of whatever was going on with the jeep. I don't know. I thought you were able to drive a 3litre diesel engine to the normal work performance required?
Well all I know is, I'm tired. There are not enough hours in my day for the amount of things that go wrong on me. Am I born unlucky? Is there anything that I do that will eventually go right? How am I to keep picking myself up everyday and say no worries, just keep trying?
What is the point?
I guess the point is to sit down and say, 'well, there's nothing I can do about this'
Just sit there and rest. Breath. Accept. It is what it is. Sometimes that's just life. It's nobody's fault.
Was it a waste of a day? I don't think so. I picked up my daughter's boots. I walked my dogs in Mullingar and Piperstown. I helped a person out.
I sat in La Bucca with my sister's and my kids afterwards and had a few beers.
It was a different day from being a perfect day but it was still a day of life.
Jean xxx
Some months back, I left a really good pair of riding boots belonging to Yasmin behind on one of her events. Today, I was set off to Mullingar to buy a new pair of the same pair of boots, having saved the costly amount for the lovely boots as they were also very comfortable.
I decided to bring my two huskies along for the ride as they would delight in a lovely run in Mullingar's lush fields while we were there.
I had a very busy day in store for me as I had also offered a friend some help in moving his pony to Dunleer in the afternoon ; My day was going to have to run on-time as I had to be back at my daughter's school for 3pm.
All was going to plan until we had to load the bold pony, who doesn't like to travel in horse boxes. It took a half hour of gentle persuasion to get her in;
I found my way handy enough to Piperstown, we unloaded the pony and let the woofies have another little run before I set on my way home.
Somewhere in Slane I sensed my jeep was giving me a little trouble. There were no visible signs of distress, but I suspected maybe some gear trouble as I felt it wouldn't go over second gear. It finally stalled and cut out just close to Asbourne. My phone had also died so I couldn't contact anyone. Like a crazy person, I waved down passing traffic on the lonely back road. Not fearing for my life at all, but quite concerned about my daughter's three o clock pick up, my traffic duty and my poor dogs who were quite upset in the back cab of the jeep. Oh yes, I was also quite worried that the jeep would blow up. I don't know why exactly. Isn't that what happens?
Thankfully, kind passer by's lent me their phone so that I could call my sister. And she could then call AA. Yes, I would take the help of alcoholic's anominus or drugs anominus or anyone else, because I was very thirsty and tired and border line very close to losing it. AndI was also hungry. The dogs were very stressed out too.
I was on a very skinny back road from the Snailbox, pulling a horse box, when my engine died. I then noticed smoke coming from my bonnet. Seriously Mr. God, or Mr. Devil, is there no body else you can wind up and have a laugh with? Because I am 50 and I really don't have that much time or energy to waste!!! And I am not a funny person. I don't laugh. there are very few things I find funny. Are you trying to make me laugh? So stop, it's never going to work.
Eventually, a big huge truck coming by on skinny road stopped to help. he said he had to help because he couldn't reverse and couldn't go forward, it was for his own benefit! Nevertheless it was very nice of him.
After lifting up my bonnet and checking my engine, he said it didn't look good, 'ya think!' He said I would make it to a garage in Ashbourne. I barely made it. there was smoke billowing from the bonnet and I chugged along into the garage.
I called my husband and he was adamant that I was the cause of whatever was going on with the jeep. I don't know. I thought you were able to drive a 3litre diesel engine to the normal work performance required?
Well all I know is, I'm tired. There are not enough hours in my day for the amount of things that go wrong on me. Am I born unlucky? Is there anything that I do that will eventually go right? How am I to keep picking myself up everyday and say no worries, just keep trying?
What is the point?
I guess the point is to sit down and say, 'well, there's nothing I can do about this'
Just sit there and rest. Breath. Accept. It is what it is. Sometimes that's just life. It's nobody's fault.
Was it a waste of a day? I don't think so. I picked up my daughter's boots. I walked my dogs in Mullingar and Piperstown. I helped a person out.
I sat in La Bucca with my sister's and my kids afterwards and had a few beers.
It was a different day from being a perfect day but it was still a day of life.
Jean xxx
Wednesday 6 September 2017
The Mountainous Climb of Living
I haven't written too much this Summer.
I've been tired, emotionally tired.
I've been busy too with my youngest child who has just turned thirteen.
Yasmin was diagnosed with Dyspraxia at age five. It's not an obvious physical disability, although when the consultant in Drogheda hospital was explaining the condition to her interns, she said, 'Initially on examination, it can look like Cerebral Palsy because of the poor muscle tone and reflex, but the distended joints are what differentiate it.' Dyspraxia is a developmental disorder that effects Yasmin's muscle tone and strength, concentration and planning, her learning ability, her comprehension, her speech, language and her maturity. She also has a very severe sensory condition, where washing and general hygiene was torture for her; And ADHD behaviour, which causes her to be very hyper active. These things don't ever go away, we just learn to manage them.
In the early years of Yasmin's difficulties, we were very fortunate to be able to pay for lots of necessary early educational intervention. I was also an older and wiser mother, I knew I needed help and I asked for it early. I listened to the experts on how to deal with Yasmin and how to help her. It wasn't easy for Yasmin to learn to read, to write or to add and subtract, but she learned. She had about a two minute concentration level, so doing homework was a struggle for both of us! She would complain of pain in her neck and shoulders and itchiness within her skin. I would send her into the back garden for ten minute jumping breaks on our trampoline and I would make myself a cup of coffee and have a bar of chocolate to keep me going or sane!
Yasmin was very impulsive and if I took my eyes off her for one second in a shop, she would be gone or she would hurt herself. She never sat and watched TV, she would be active the whole time while at home. Most nights before bedtime, my husband would have to walk her around the village just to tire her out. She kept us all skinny! I remember one time when she was about six and she had just quietened down from a huge tantrum, (She had begun having really scary tantrums from about age one. They were from frustration and her lack of comprehension of the world around her. I had learned how to manage Yasmin's tantrums at age four. I would sit her on the bottom stair of our house for time-out. When she had calmed down, I would explain that her behaviour was unacceptable and that there was always a consequence. This was to be a great benefit for Yasmin's social interaction with her peers.) She was lying on the sofa and she said, 'Mammy, my legs and arms feel funny, it's like they are sleepy.' So although Yasmin was mentally hyper active, her muscles had poor strength because of the Dyspraxia.
If I knew nothing at all about difficulties in children, I knew exercise and activities was going to be good for them, so I had joined Yasmin in swimming from age one, which was a huge benefit. She didn't master swimming easily and it took her many years to learn, but she learned!
And when she insisted on doing pony lessons at age five because she had been brought to all her big sister's pony events, we reluctantly gave in. She fell off many, many times. But she kept on wanting to get back on and do it again!
What Dyspraxia doesn't effect in Yasmin is her motivation or her dreams. She has become a really good rider, capable of riding any pony! She will try any event to do with a pony!
I watched Yasmin all of this year train with her team mates from The Ward Union Pony Club, in preparation for the Tetrathlon Championships in Tipperary. This is a sport ran by The Irish Pony Club. It involves running, swimming, shooting and cross country eventing. It is a very challenging event for over twelve year olds. She was so excited about it. There was a smile in her eyes all Summer waiting for the weekend at the end of August to come. We had a few obstacles to start with in June with a fractured collar bone, but she was back on the pony in super quick time after three weeks, fully healed! And she was back to the training. Not a lover of running or swimming as you can imagine it takes a lot of muscle strength, she got up at the crack of dawn each morning, ready to train.
Yasmin is pretty good socially and loves being part of a team. We have a huge family so she is used to people. She has been with the same kids in school since montessori, so she feels very comfortable and can communicate well with them. But most of the time, Yasmin uses food as a social connection. When she is with her peers or at parties or occasions, she will just eat and eat. She replaces the eating with conversation that she can't have. She's pretty good at talking about ponies and horses and funny things that make her laugh, but that only lasts a short time with her friends. Although she's thirteen in age, she's a few years behind in maturity. I'm a health food advocate, so, there's only healthy food in my fridge, but I do allow her to eat the same as her friends when she's out. She is very active which keeps her weight under control and when I talk to her about food, I focus on the damage salt can do to the kidney's and what bad fats do to the heart, so as to help her make the right choices when she's older.
We had a beautiful week's holiday in the West of Ireland in August, where we cycled around The Arran Island and climbed the hills in Connemara in keeping with our fitness program for the Tetrathlon! Then our pony was off in August, so we had to look fast for a new pony!
Luckily, we found a lovely fella, a fifteen year old bay Connemara gelding, called Jack. We were good to go!
There's a lot of preparation in packing off a pony and child to a different county. It's a big task. I'm a stay at home Mam now, with only Yasmin to take care of! I commend working mother's everywhere who can manage their children in sports and work!
I checked the team times earlier that morning with my cup of coffee. My heart fell. Yasmin hadn't been placed on any of the four teams. I was sad for Yasmin. You see, Yasmin hasn't won anything in cross country this year. She hasn't had a clear either. But she has had some very good hunter trials. She has jumped fences and ditches and trunks of trees of 90 and 1m heights.
Her planning and organisation sometimes lets her down in the decision making as she approaches a fence. She knows when she comes back in where she went wrong and she is so hard on herself. Of course I tell her, you did an amazing job and what a great ride and Look how you did that this time! And she's really good, she picks herself up quickly and tries again the next time.
Now I was wondering how I would tell her this news.
On the drive down, it was just me and Yasmin, her Dad was following in his own car. After a bit, I mentioned to Yasmin that she didn't get picked to be on one of the teams, so she had to go as an individual. She was so upset. I explained to her, 'It's the same all over the world Yasmin.' I said gently. 'You kind of have to get your clears to be put on a team; Get all your dance routines right to try out for cheer leading; Or other sports; That doesn't mean that you'll never make a team. This is your first year, you've the whole season again in January. You've got showjumping season in September, your really good at that because you're doing that much longer!' So, she picked herself up again and took it on the chin.
Yasmin gave it her all in the swimming event in Kilkenny's Watershed Leisure centre and did great in the shooting too! She compared just below average to her peers and she was happy with her result. It was a decent result.
And the next morning was the cross country and Yasmin woke up with vomiting and temperatures. I gave her medicine and tried to reassure her that she would be feeling better soon, to her cries and knowing sobs. It wasn't looking good. We went to the course and Yasmin could only sleep in the back of the jeep between vomiting.
So there you go, there's only one man who knows the plan of the day and it's himself above!
When it was all over and the girls were packing up their ponies, what did my little team player do? She got up out of the jeep and went over to all her teammates individually and asked 'How did it go? and Well Done! to the clear rounds and 'That's great! to their achievements.
I was never more proud of her.
She has been a little bit sad since though. And she asked me the other night, 'Do I have Autism?' Although I have explained to her over the years in ways that she can comprehend, that everybody has different talents or difficulties, this is the first time that she has wondered out loud, 'well, what is my difference?'
So I explained to her, 'No, your difficulty is not Autism, it's Dyspraxia and that is the reason you have to work that bit harder to achieve things that others might find that bit easier.'
'OK.' She said.
And she started to giggle at a funny video on U-tube.
Jean xxx
I've been tired, emotionally tired.
I've been busy too with my youngest child who has just turned thirteen.
Yasmin was diagnosed with Dyspraxia at age five. It's not an obvious physical disability, although when the consultant in Drogheda hospital was explaining the condition to her interns, she said, 'Initially on examination, it can look like Cerebral Palsy because of the poor muscle tone and reflex, but the distended joints are what differentiate it.' Dyspraxia is a developmental disorder that effects Yasmin's muscle tone and strength, concentration and planning, her learning ability, her comprehension, her speech, language and her maturity. She also has a very severe sensory condition, where washing and general hygiene was torture for her; And ADHD behaviour, which causes her to be very hyper active. These things don't ever go away, we just learn to manage them.
In the early years of Yasmin's difficulties, we were very fortunate to be able to pay for lots of necessary early educational intervention. I was also an older and wiser mother, I knew I needed help and I asked for it early. I listened to the experts on how to deal with Yasmin and how to help her. It wasn't easy for Yasmin to learn to read, to write or to add and subtract, but she learned. She had about a two minute concentration level, so doing homework was a struggle for both of us! She would complain of pain in her neck and shoulders and itchiness within her skin. I would send her into the back garden for ten minute jumping breaks on our trampoline and I would make myself a cup of coffee and have a bar of chocolate to keep me going or sane!
Yasmin was very impulsive and if I took my eyes off her for one second in a shop, she would be gone or she would hurt herself. She never sat and watched TV, she would be active the whole time while at home. Most nights before bedtime, my husband would have to walk her around the village just to tire her out. She kept us all skinny! I remember one time when she was about six and she had just quietened down from a huge tantrum, (She had begun having really scary tantrums from about age one. They were from frustration and her lack of comprehension of the world around her. I had learned how to manage Yasmin's tantrums at age four. I would sit her on the bottom stair of our house for time-out. When she had calmed down, I would explain that her behaviour was unacceptable and that there was always a consequence. This was to be a great benefit for Yasmin's social interaction with her peers.) She was lying on the sofa and she said, 'Mammy, my legs and arms feel funny, it's like they are sleepy.' So although Yasmin was mentally hyper active, her muscles had poor strength because of the Dyspraxia.
If I knew nothing at all about difficulties in children, I knew exercise and activities was going to be good for them, so I had joined Yasmin in swimming from age one, which was a huge benefit. She didn't master swimming easily and it took her many years to learn, but she learned!
And when she insisted on doing pony lessons at age five because she had been brought to all her big sister's pony events, we reluctantly gave in. She fell off many, many times. But she kept on wanting to get back on and do it again!
What Dyspraxia doesn't effect in Yasmin is her motivation or her dreams. She has become a really good rider, capable of riding any pony! She will try any event to do with a pony!
I watched Yasmin all of this year train with her team mates from The Ward Union Pony Club, in preparation for the Tetrathlon Championships in Tipperary. This is a sport ran by The Irish Pony Club. It involves running, swimming, shooting and cross country eventing. It is a very challenging event for over twelve year olds. She was so excited about it. There was a smile in her eyes all Summer waiting for the weekend at the end of August to come. We had a few obstacles to start with in June with a fractured collar bone, but she was back on the pony in super quick time after three weeks, fully healed! And she was back to the training. Not a lover of running or swimming as you can imagine it takes a lot of muscle strength, she got up at the crack of dawn each morning, ready to train.
Yasmin is pretty good socially and loves being part of a team. We have a huge family so she is used to people. She has been with the same kids in school since montessori, so she feels very comfortable and can communicate well with them. But most of the time, Yasmin uses food as a social connection. When she is with her peers or at parties or occasions, she will just eat and eat. She replaces the eating with conversation that she can't have. She's pretty good at talking about ponies and horses and funny things that make her laugh, but that only lasts a short time with her friends. Although she's thirteen in age, she's a few years behind in maturity. I'm a health food advocate, so, there's only healthy food in my fridge, but I do allow her to eat the same as her friends when she's out. She is very active which keeps her weight under control and when I talk to her about food, I focus on the damage salt can do to the kidney's and what bad fats do to the heart, so as to help her make the right choices when she's older.
We had a beautiful week's holiday in the West of Ireland in August, where we cycled around The Arran Island and climbed the hills in Connemara in keeping with our fitness program for the Tetrathlon! Then our pony was off in August, so we had to look fast for a new pony!
Luckily, we found a lovely fella, a fifteen year old bay Connemara gelding, called Jack. We were good to go!
There's a lot of preparation in packing off a pony and child to a different county. It's a big task. I'm a stay at home Mam now, with only Yasmin to take care of! I commend working mother's everywhere who can manage their children in sports and work!
I checked the team times earlier that morning with my cup of coffee. My heart fell. Yasmin hadn't been placed on any of the four teams. I was sad for Yasmin. You see, Yasmin hasn't won anything in cross country this year. She hasn't had a clear either. But she has had some very good hunter trials. She has jumped fences and ditches and trunks of trees of 90 and 1m heights.
Her planning and organisation sometimes lets her down in the decision making as she approaches a fence. She knows when she comes back in where she went wrong and she is so hard on herself. Of course I tell her, you did an amazing job and what a great ride and Look how you did that this time! And she's really good, she picks herself up quickly and tries again the next time.
Now I was wondering how I would tell her this news.
On the drive down, it was just me and Yasmin, her Dad was following in his own car. After a bit, I mentioned to Yasmin that she didn't get picked to be on one of the teams, so she had to go as an individual. She was so upset. I explained to her, 'It's the same all over the world Yasmin.' I said gently. 'You kind of have to get your clears to be put on a team; Get all your dance routines right to try out for cheer leading; Or other sports; That doesn't mean that you'll never make a team. This is your first year, you've the whole season again in January. You've got showjumping season in September, your really good at that because you're doing that much longer!' So, she picked herself up again and took it on the chin.
Yasmin gave it her all in the swimming event in Kilkenny's Watershed Leisure centre and did great in the shooting too! She compared just below average to her peers and she was happy with her result. It was a decent result.
And the next morning was the cross country and Yasmin woke up with vomiting and temperatures. I gave her medicine and tried to reassure her that she would be feeling better soon, to her cries and knowing sobs. It wasn't looking good. We went to the course and Yasmin could only sleep in the back of the jeep between vomiting.
So there you go, there's only one man who knows the plan of the day and it's himself above!
When it was all over and the girls were packing up their ponies, what did my little team player do? She got up out of the jeep and went over to all her teammates individually and asked 'How did it go? and Well Done! to the clear rounds and 'That's great! to their achievements.
I was never more proud of her.
She has been a little bit sad since though. And she asked me the other night, 'Do I have Autism?' Although I have explained to her over the years in ways that she can comprehend, that everybody has different talents or difficulties, this is the first time that she has wondered out loud, 'well, what is my difference?'
So I explained to her, 'No, your difficulty is not Autism, it's Dyspraxia and that is the reason you have to work that bit harder to achieve things that others might find that bit easier.'
'OK.' She said.
And she started to giggle at a funny video on U-tube.
Jean xxx
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