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Muscular Dystrophy & Mental Health | Personal Strategies

My previous blog post touched on the topic of mental health and physical disability.

In response, a few people asked how I manage my mental health:

What exacerbates it, and what strategies I use to alleviate the symptoms ~

Although I dislike using the term ‘depression’ in reference to myself, it is something I suffer from, as, I believe, we all do to some degree and at some stage in our lives.

My bouts of depression are very much situational ~

I am a 32 year-old woman with a rare, progressive form of congenital muscular dystrophy. I am a non-ambulatory powered wheelchair-user, and I currently live with my parents in their home (not through choice).

How Depression Affects Me:

I withdraw, avoid social interaction, lose interest, lack motivation, procrastinate, overthink, overreact, become defensive, eat less, lose weight, neglect myself, don’t care what I wear or how I look, mood swings, sleep more, insomnia, chronic fatigue.

*DISCLAIMER: The information here is based solely on my personal experiences and circumstances. I am NOT in any way seeking to provide medical advice or instruction.

What I Do Find Helpful:

Saying no: As hard as this can be, it is sometimes essential for both my physical and mental health. It’s also important for me to acknowledge that I am not responsible for how others react. If I’m unable to attend an event or social gathering and others take this personally, that’s ultimately their issue, not mine.
Being selective about who I spend my time with: Age and life experience has made me review and evaluate the people in my life – who adds value and who doesn’t. Who are the “no matter what” friends? It may sound harsh, but I’ve learned it’s not only okay, but necessary to distance myself from certain people. It’s easy to find friends when you’re young, fit, healthy and carefree. But when times are REALLY tough, that is when you realise who and what matters most.
Listening to music (through earphones): A form of escapism, allowing me to block out the rest of the world and any unwanted distractions.
Getting out of the house: It can be anywhere, doing anything or nothing. Sometimes I just sit by the river and stare. Other times I like to venture out in the car, though for me, this means relying on someone to drive me around.
Express: Sometimes I lock myself away and cry, other times I sit all day in total silence. I would say, do what you need to; scream, shout, talk it through. Whatever works for you.
Do what you love: However small or insignificant it may seem, I try to do something, every day, just for me. It could be as simple as listening to my favourite song on repeat, writing, sketching, reading, watching TV or YouTube.
Self care: When I’m feeling low and I can’t be arsed with skin care, presentable attire or brushing my hair, I just spray myself, liberally, with my most expensive perfume. Granted, I’ll still feel like crap, but at least I smell great. It’s a small comfort requiring no effort.

What I Don’t Find Helpful:

Unsolicited advice: Superficial comments such as, “stay positive”, “get better soon”, “it could be worse”, and, “take some multivitamins” – This is neither helpful nor constructive.
Talking when not ready: We are often encouraged to talk and share our troubles. And, while I totally agree that it is ‘good to talk’, and we shouldn’t feel like we have to keep our thoughts, feelings and concerns to ourselves, I also think it should be on our terms. We are all different. Some people find great comfort in talking, while others don’t. I, personally, am the latter.

Muscular Dystrophy & Mental Health

Sunday 10th October 2021 ~ World Mental Health Day

It’s now officially autumn in the UK, and so the days are becoming shorter, cooler and darker.

For many of us, the cold weather and lack of sunlight negatively affects our mood (Seasonal Affective Disorder).

This impacts some people much more than others, and of course, it is only one factor that contributes to the state of our mental health.

I believe we all experience some level and form of depression throughout our lives, and for very different reasons.

We’re advised to explore the outdoors, take walks in nature, and get regular physical exercise to improve cognitive function and release endorphins . But for those of us with physical disabilities, this isn’t always possible.

As a powered wheelchair-user with congenital muscular dystrophy, I can’t go running, walking, swimming, cycling or to the gym.

Though essential, my physiotherapy sessions came to an abrupt stop, many years ago, at the age of 14. Accessing services as a physically disabled adult is beyond challenging!

Furthermore, some with disabilities, impaired immunity and chronic illnesses are continuing to shield, and therefore cannot safely access the outdoors.

Some are completely isolated, don’t have a garden and cannot drive. Others are suffocated by the constant presence of carers and those they live with, unable to escape the confines of home.

It’s surprising how lonely you can feel in a crowded room.

So, what do WE do? How can WE support and improve our mental health?

There is no straightforward answer, (sorry about that!), as we’re all different, and facing our own battles.

I, personally, get very frustrated with life, my limitations, the lack of assistance, understanding and empathy. It does often feel like physically disabled people are disregarded from society and forgotten about.

But we feel, we need, we want, we deserve, we matter.

What Would You Do If You Could Walk?

I lost the ability to walk 22 years ago, at the age of 1o. For me, becoming completely non-ambulant happened quite unexpectedly, over the space of a couple of weeks.

Back then, there was little to no guidance or support. I didn’t have a full diagnosis and my rather nonchalant paediatric consultant wasn’t the best!

We didn’t have the Internet or social media to research and connect with others living with muscular dystrophy. And, until I reached adulthood, I didn’t know of anyone else with the same condition.

It was difficult enough leaving behind my group of primary school friends and moving on to a different middle school. I felt very lonely and was struggling to integrate, when came the added pressure of immobility.

Attending mainstream school, I was the only one with a disability amongst hundreds of physically fit, healthy, happy kids. My family and I were very much in the dark and going it alone.

Prior to this, I could only ever walk short distances – around school and home, but never steps or stairs. Then, at age 10, I suddenly found myself unable to stay on my feet, constantly covered in cuts and bruises from falling, and I didn’t know why.

Me, aged 5, in my primary school uniform

I was referred to a counsellor, but met with them no more than 3 times, as I found it utterly pointless. How was talking with a complete stranger holding a clipboard going to help me? I couldn’t walk anymore and that was that. Get on with it, Carrie.

Yes, I was stubborn and sceptical even as a child!

People often ask me if I miss it – walking. In all honesty, I tend to fob them off with a half-hearted response; “nah, not really. Moving on…”

But the truth is, my life could and would be so very different if I could walk.

I recently asked my fellow wheelies, on Instagram, what they would do if they were able to walk…

Some of these answers really made me laugh, while others are more thought-provoking.

What would I do? Run! You wouldn’t see me for dust, mate!

Muscular Dystrophy | Life with Carers

Living with a physical disability, as I do, often means dealing with carers. Believe me, this is not a lifestyle choice! It is a necessity.

I’m a very private person who enjoys their own company, hates relying on others, and I cannot do small talk to save my life!

The last thing I want is to do each morning is slap on a happy face and engage in polite conversation with carers, as I’m still half asleep and reluctant to leave my comfy bed.

Some days, it takes everything I have to not call out, “would you kindly buggar off and let me be!”.

Not that I’m ungrateful for the support they provide (no, really). Without them, I would quite literally be stuck – unable to get in or out of bed. They enable me to live my life.

Of course, this isn’t without issue.

I employ my own part-time carers, funded by Direct Payments. Consequently, I am responsible for hiring, firing, training, insuring, managing and paying my employees. This can, at times, be somewhat testing.

I never wanted to be an employer, in any capacity. But as previously stated, this isn’t a lifestyle choice. I NEED carers. Agencies are, well, far from ideal. And so, this is my only option.

As with most things in life, carers come and go. Some leave after a few months, while others stick around for years. Either way, the process of finding new employees, who are both capable and reliable, is always stressful.

Imagine, if you will, routinely inviting strangers into your home, to observe you in your most vulnerable state – first thing in the morning; naked, dribbly, grouchy, with whiffy armpits, stubbly legs and a head of hair like Tina Turner’s!

A black and white image of Tina Turner, with big hair — Tina Turner

Sadly, I don’t look quite as graceful as Cinderella on waking!

Disney's Cinderella waking up

You then have to instruct, explain and demonstrate your personal care routine, entrusting your safety to this stranger.

Sounds fun, huh!?

It’s not. At all. And I loathe it. But this is an essential part of my life with a physical disability.

It is, therefore, all the more reassuring when someone comes along who instantly puts you at ease, makes you laugh, talks (but doesn’t babble), and actually wants to work. This isn’t easy to find!

It’s early days with my latest newbie, but after a somewhat turbulent couple of months (care-wise), it is a huge relief.

Always nice to close on a positive note, eh folks.

A Year Offline | Sept 2020 – 21

My last post was the first after a year’s absence!

So, what have I been doing in that time?

Well, I dyed my hair – wild, I know

From blonde (above) to brunette-ish (below)

Went even wilder and got filler + botox…

Making a dick of myself with a filtered selfie

…No, not really!! 😂

Embraced fluffy socks to hide my corpse feet (even when leaving the house!)

Me, sat in my powered wheelchair, wearing comfy fluffy socks

Accidently drove my wheelchair into the bathroom sink, bashing my knee – ouch!

Redecorated my bedroom and deliberated for too long over duvet covers
Failed at knitting so took up crochet
Started learning French through Duolingo. In my opinion, so much easier than lessons at school! Although, to be fair, I did spend most of my time staring out of the window
Learned to play pool…online…sorta…
Went to my first ever supercar fest – Shelsley Walsh Hill Climb. I’ll be honest, I haven’t a clue about cars but it was a fun day and something different

Shelsley Walsh Hill Climb – Supercar Fest

Me, sitting in my powered wheelchair (held together by tape!), watching the hill climb at Supercar Fest

A particular highlight was our accessible canal boat ride through the prehistoric Dudley tunnels, mined during the Industrial Revolution. We got soaked (from the rain; we didn’t fall in the canal), and I ended up looking like Alice Cooper with mascara running down my face. But it was memorable!

Despite restrictions, I’ve managed to get out and about a fair bit – Roaming around aimlessly in the car, wandering along accessible forest trails, casually entering a local arboretum without paying, and even attempting the Malvern Hills!

Taking on the great outdoors is definitely challenging in a powered wheelchair, and it’s been met with limited success. But, for me, it’s not what you do but who you do it with.

Grabbing a Tesco meal deal with someone you love ♥ is (to me) far more precious than partying with a room full of semi-drunk acquaintances.

(Photo credits: All media copyright CarrieA & JV)

Long Time Gone

It’s been a whole year since I last blogged!

Did you miss me? No, I wouldn’t either!

This wasn’t a conscious decision at all. I simply don’t believe in churning out meaningless content purely for the sake of it, so felt it best to wait.

A lot has happened over the past 12 months, both good and bad…

Of course, we’ve endured lockdown and are continuing to feel the effects of Covid, with many disabled and chronically ill people still shielding.

To protect myself and others, I received the Astra Zeneca vaccine back in March – Woop!

While this offers a lot of relief and reassurance, it is important to remain considerate of the many thousands, like me, who are high risk.

Covid isn’t going away, but neither are we! Disabled people are very much a part of society and we should not be ignored or disregarded.

To further protect myself through the harsh winter months, I’ll be getting the Flu jab at the end of September – A thoroughly beneficial prick! I urge you all to do the same, if possible.

On a personal note, we sadly lost my Nan back in January. A tough old bird ‘til the end, she made it to 94, despite smoking forty-a-day, from the age of 12-70!

I will miss her endlessly engaging, witty stories.

We recently gathered as a family to scatter her ashes alongside Stourbridge canal. Despite the occasion, it was actually a really lovely day.

My 4 year-old nephew was an absolute star, “helping to push” me, in my powered wheelchair, the entire way along the bumpy canal path. That kid keeps me going – literally!

My 4 year-old nephew, wearing my sunglasses, during our family gathering

Accompanying us was the newest addition to the family, my gorgeous niece, baby Sophie, born in June. A funky-haired little ray of sunshine.

Me and my niece, baby Sophie, in June 2021

Next month, I’ll be glamming up to attend the wedding of one of my best friends. Having known each other for over 20 years, I’m excited and proud to see her walk down the aisle.

I will attempt to take photos on the big day, but make no promises. I may be distracted by cocktails! Pray there be cocktails…

Beyond that, my plan is to fully embrace the approaching crisp autumn days and cosy nights with hot chocolates, candles and cuddly blankets. Yes, I’m old. Do I care? Naaaaaah!

Oh, this year, I also discovered I really dislike figs! They have the strangest texture. Much like chewing on the sand smothered sandwiches my mum used to make for us to eat on the beach as kids. Mmm, gritty!

Getting Back on the Horse

As a kid, I rode horses until the age of 10, when I lost the ability to walk (due to a rare, progressive form of congenital muscular dystrophy).

One day, the horse I was riding decided to bolt and suddenly swerved to a halt, throwing me on the floor with an almighty bump.

Slightly shaken and slumped in a muddy puddle, with a bruised arse and a missing boot, I had two choices.

Unable to get up and walk away, I could either sit there and wallow, or clamber back on the horse.

As tempted as I was to avoid the risk and mope in the mud, I opted to get back on the frisky mare.

There’s a lesson there, somewhere…

Life can knock you down, again and again.

Sometimes you find yourself asking, “why me? What have I done to deserve this crap?”

There is often no rhyme or reason and, at times, it may feel like you just can’t catch a break. But, shit happens.

The point is, it’s up to you whether or not you try to pull yourself out of the muddy puddle.

Find the thing, the person, the people that motivates you to overcome and battle on.

I never did find my riding boot, though. Maybe the horse stole it. Bitch!

Dating Disasters

Following my last post, I was encouraged to write more on the subject of dating with a disability. Not that I’m much of a dater. I don’t do the apps (other than a brief stint on Hinge) or actively chat up blokes. If it happens, it happens.

A mate told me to share some dating disaster stories. I’m not sure there have been any disasters, as such. Rather, a few funny anecdotes.

One took place on a freezing cold day in January – not ideal. He wrapped his coat around me, which was quite sweet. He wouldn’t let me keep it (less sweet, methinks) but I did steal his hat!

Another date (if you can call it that) was with a 34 year-old guy from dating app, Hinge. Though stereotypically attractive – clean cut with washboard abs – he really wasn’t my type at all.

Still, I was encouraged to go for it, mainly because he’s older and, in theory, more mature. So, on a whim, after months of chatting on/off, I agreed to meetup.

This lead to possibly the most awkward and stale encounter I’ve ever experienced. I’m not sure if he was going for the brooding, ‘treat them mean, keep them keen’ thing, but it translated as pure arrogance. Plus, he had zero sense of humour and was somewhat full of shit.

He claimed to have dated Ellie Goulding and that one of her songs was written about him. Google disagrees!

The only thing he seemed interested in was his car (which, I may have inadvertently insulted. I amused myself, anyway), and getting a hotel room there and then.

Now, each to their own, but I’ve never been into meaningless one night stands. Plus, let’s be real for a second, I’m a girl. A “vulnerable” girl. So if a guy can’t appreciate why I don’t want to hook-up within 10 minutes of meeting, well, sod off mate!

So, in the end I told him I was off home for my tea (yes, I really said that).

I took the long route and nagged a mate on the phone on my way. As I rolled along the riverside in my chair, a little kid waved enthusiastically at me. That made me smile and was most definitely the highlight of my evening. Kids are so much easier than men!

Prior to this, I met up with a lad I went to school with. He’s a bit quirky with long, dark, wavy hair and piercing blue eyes – ding, ding!!

Somehow, we got chatting after some 15 years, and I went to his place. There was no plan or agenda on my part. Yes, I fancied him – a little – but I’m terrible at the whole flirty thing.

Now, I’m completely non-ambulant and haven’t been up a flight of stairs in many years. So, despite worrying that I’d be dropped on the floor in a heap, I trusted him to carry me up to his room where he plonked me on his bed.

After a fair amount of kissing and rolling around, the boy got a bit excited and, well, released his manly juices over my lovely top! Mmm, crusty!

You may be surprised to learn this beautiful union developed no further.

Dating with a Disability

Honestly, I hate dating. It’s generally pretty nerve-wracking. But, add a disability into the mix and the whole thing becomes even more challenging.

Disability aside, I am an acquired taste. I have a very dry, dark, and somewhat sarcastic sense of humour. I’m not a natural people person, and I can’t do small-talk to save my life. Yes, I’m a bit of a weirdo.

And then there’s the chair…

Many seem to assume disabled people only date those with a similar disability. I never understood that.

Personally, I’ve only ever dated able-bodied guys. This isn’t necessarily a conscious decision, though in all honesty, it does make life easier!

Dating with a physical disability like mine can be awkward, embarrassing and frustrating. There are certain things I cannot do that I REALLY wish I could. So, you need to be willing to answer questions, explain your limitations and ask for help.

I don’t think I’ve dated anyone who hasn’t asked the following:

– Can you move?
– Can you feel?
– Do you hurt?

If and when you’re hit with the 20 questions, my advice would be to try and keep it light-hearted and good-humoured. Remember that many people have no knowledge or familiarity with your disability. They are simply curious and showing an interest in YOU.

You may be reluctant to date because of your disability. Maybe you lack confidence or think that no one would want you. Trust me, that’s bullshit!

Yes, you might make an arse of yourself and roll home feeling like a bag of shit. I know I have. But hey, if a date goes badly, you never have to see them again!

Bad experiences will knock your confidence. But you’ve just got to dust yourself off and try again.

One guy once told me that I’m no one’s type (referring to my disability). What a lovely chappy! Well, he kissed like some kinda mutant slug! So, no great loss there. Cheerio, bye-bye…

Dating Apps

This seems to be the go-to method these days. It works for many, but I’m not a dating app type at all. I can tell you now, you’ll never see my face on Tinder or PoF. And if you do, it ain’t me!

The only app I ever used – reluctantly – is Hinge (dubbed “Cringe”), recommended by a good friend.

Much to my surprise, it made quite an impact on me and effectively changed my whole perspective on love…

For a long while, I was referred to, by some, as “the ice queen”. I had my guard up and always kept people at arms length, due to low self-esteem and a fear of judgement and rejection.

I was totally cynical about love and never showed any interest in marriage – I wasn’t the little girl who fantasised about a big white wedding.

Despite a few dates, I wasn’t taking Hinge seriously and never thought I’d meet anyone or fall in love. That just wasn’t me. Then, most unexpectedly, I did.

Quite early on, my mum said she could see me falling for this guy. She told me if it didn’t work out, it would break my heart.

“Nah, we’re just keeping it casual and having fun. Nothing and no one will break my heart”.

Or so I thought. But damn it, mama was right. I really did fall for him. I fell hard and fast (not on the floor, although that has happened)! And my heart really did break when it ended.

But that’s life. Shit happens. You live and learn.

The point is, you have to be willing to take risks, open up, allow yourself to trust, and yes, to get hurt.

It sounds cliché, but it’s essential you realise your worth. Never allow anyone or anything to make you feel you are not good enough or undeserving of love and affection!

And, if anyone does make you doubt your worth, well, fuck ’em! (Not literally).

Physical Health & Mental Health

Physical disabilities/impairments and mental health issues are not mutually exclusive!

Many people, like me, living with disabilities and chronic illnesses are affected by stress, anxiety or depression at some point in their lives.

This is not to say that the disability/impairment, whether temporary or permanent, is the primary cause of the mental health issue. It could be a contributing factor, or they may be completely unrelated. You might just be super lucky and have been blessed with both – Double whammy!

Equally, those struggling with their mental health will often (if not always) experience physical side effects, such as headaches, fatigue, insomnia, restlessness, nausea and chest pains.

Essentially, what I’m saying is, the mind affects the body and so the body affects the mind.

My Disability & Point of View

I was born with a rare form of muscular dystrophy – a physical disability – that has progressed over time. I am now a non-ambulatory wheelchair-user, having lost the ability to walk at age 10.

My condition has a considerable effect on my body and physical capabilities. With the best will in the world, there are many things I cannot do.

For example, my older brother is very fit and able-bodied. He has travelled the world and often goes trekking through the countryside and climbing mountains.

Last year, he and some mates completed the Three Peaks Challenge in aid of Muscular Dystrophy UK. Gruelling and possibly a little bit crazy, considering the 3 lads did all the driving themselves – but wow!

I often wish I could be out there with him. It might not be everyone’s cuppa, but it would be nice, just once, to experience that sort of thrill and adrenaline rush. A real physical accomplishment whilst being in the midst of nature.

But, I can’t. And I never will. Of course, this gets me down and impacts on my mood. Yes, I wish I could walk, run, dance, be completely independent and spontaneous. But I can’t. I am limited and reliant on support from others to live my life. This is something I have no choice but to accept.

There is no treatment, no cure, and no pill I can pop to help the situation. For lack of a better phrase, it is very much a case of, deal with it!

I cannot control my disability or how it affects my body. Therefore, it is important to focus on the things I CAN do and control.

I can’t dance, so I like to watch the dancing (yes, I’m a sad, old Strictly fan. Don’t care!)

I can’t drive, so I have a passenger WAV (wheelchair accessible vehicle), which allows me to get out and about.

My Motability passenger WAV (Wheelchair Accessible Vehicle)

I can’t walk or run, so I roll (with style)!

Admittedly, I’m pretty crap at sorting my own problems out. So I tend to focus on other people’s 😂 Not necessarily a good thing, but there ya go!

Living with a physical disability is a way of life. It is inflicted on us – we have not chosen this path. Similarly, living with a mental health illness is a way of life. So what you gonna do? ADAPT or Die!

Tag: Personal