It’s goodbye to Twitter from me…

When I was at university I spent a lot of time on Twitter. In fact, I think I used it more than Facebook and Instagram. How times have changed in five years, where I find myself neglecting Twitter and regularly using Instagram and Facebook to engage and interact with friends, family and former work colleagues. It was a place where I could share my opinions instantaneously, and could engage with the thoughts of other people who had similar interests to me. For 21-year-old me, who was then an aspiring journalist, it was also a great tool to interact with journalists and hear of new work experience or job opportunities within the sector.

Around 2015 though, I ‘fell out of love’ with Twitter. Where in previous years the sharing of views had been done in a respectful, considerate manner (from what I saw on my daily use of the site anyway), I now found myself surrounded by some users who were locked in bitter wars of words around who was ‘right’ and who was ‘wrong’. People from either side of the political spectrum, feuding through their screens and keyboards about why their opinion was right and the other subsequently wrong all became a bit too much. And so, I never logged into Twitter again.

For some reason, unbeknownst even to me, I never deleted my account. Until I logged in a few weeks ago for the first time in almost three years, my Twitter account had remained completely dormant. And from the content I saw during my brief half an hour on the site, I think it will be remaining that way. With subjects of Brexit and Trump rolling around, a number of people across the political spectrum are continuing to bash one another’s opinions, claiming they’re right and everyone who thinks differently to them is wrong, and I just don’t have the patience for it.

I used to enjoy being able to share my views, and to read other people’s, without seeing a barrage of abuse being hurtled at people simply for expressing a different opinion. I’m all for everyone being entitled to their own opinion, and I used to enjoy discussing views with people on sites like Twitter. It would seem though that, largely, these days are over, with an increasing number of people of various political views claiming to have the correct solution and slamming anyone who dares to think differently.

Don’t tell me I’m imagining PMT

This blog post might be too much information. Heck, people may hate it. I’m trying to be more bold in what I write about though, and to express my opinions more rather than worrying about what other people may or may not think.

A short while ago I read an article about how Sarah Romans, professor of psychological medicine, and health psychologist Robyn Stein DeLuca believe that for many women claiming to suffer from pre-menstrual tension (PMT, also known as PMS), the symptoms are all in the mind.

Now I know that not every single woman suffers from PMT in the lead up to that time of the month. I have female friends and family members who don’t feel any different before or during their period. I also know plenty of women who do suffer from it, myself included. Ever since getting my first period when I was 12 years old I’ve suffered with extreme emotions, fatigue, paranoia and excruciating cramps (these have thankfully gone away after a few years spent on the pill to control the pain and my cycle). The thought that some people, who are health professionals no less, believe that I’m potentially ‘imagining’ my symptoms or ‘using PMT as an excuse for when I need a break’, is insulting to anyone whose suffered with this condition.

The feelings of paranoia I get in the days before I get my period are at times extremely difficult to deal with. Feeling as though my family, friends and even work colleagues are talking about me behind my back can at times make day to day life difficult to concentrate on. These feelings often leave me feeling isolated and upset, something which isn’t needed at any time, but particularly not when your hormones are flying left, right and centre in preparation for the arrival of your period.

Whilst I’m quite an emotional person day to day in terms of crying at the slightest thing that’s heart-warming or sad, my patience and anger during this time are extremely temperamental and can leave me feeling very stressed if I don’t express how I’m feeling. I would describe it as a bubble that’s building up inside of me, demanding to felt and for attention to be paid. I try my best to keep this bubble from popping. But, if anything or anyone harmlessly does something that grates me, it’s very likely this bubble of frustration or anger will burst and I will struggle to keep these emotions at bay. This isn’t something I feel on a daily basis, or a regular basis for that matter. It’s always when I’m due on for my period.

The tiredness is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Even when times at work are hectic or I have a lot going on in my personal life, my levels of fatigue are never as low as they are when I’m living with PMT. All in all, I sometimes feel like a completely different person during these days when PMT seemingly takes over my body. It might be in my head, where my hormones like everyone else’s are controlled, but I’m most definitely not imagining it.

 I’m not the type of person that makes up illnesses or symptoms to get out of doing things. In fact, I’m the complete opposite. People around me know that I have to be seriously unwell to cancel plans or not go to work. I understand where DeLuca and Romans are coming from in terms that some women may convince themselves they’ve got PMT, when in fact they haven’t, but a sweeping statement needs to be made with caution and consideration for the many women who suffer from symptoms of PMT. Just because a small study group represented no link doesn’t mean there’s no correlation between the two.

 

New Year, Same Old Me

Happy New Year!

A time for change, fresh starts and the opportunity to start anew. So many people go into a new year full of optimism and positivity about the year that lies ahead. Whatever you want to achieve, whether it’s travelling to a new exotic location, losing weight, being more confident, changing career paths or just trying to be less of an awkward embarrassment, everything seems possible when Big Ben strikes 12 on the first of January.

It’s almost like with the beginning of a New Year we trick ourselves into thinking that we’re going to be completely different people over night. What seemed impossible just moments ago on 31 December suddenly feels like a challenge you’re ready to take on and beat with all of your determination and power. How I wish this were true…

I haven’t set New Year’s resolutions for myself in what feels like years. I usually just go with the flow, and whilst I enjoy the fresh start the first of January brings following the indulgence of Christmas, I was quite happy going into January and seeing what the year brought, rather than setting myself goals and just ending up feeling disappointed when life got too busy for me to focus on them.

For someone who suffers with anxiety, lack of confidence and lack of self-esteem, the idea of a new year, alongside the work I’d been doing to improve in these areas towards the end of 2017, seemed like a perfect opportunity to continue growing as a person. Well, after not even two full days back at work, these ideals have pretty much gone out of the window. I’ve embarrassed myself twice in the last hour alone, with one encounter leaving my face as red as a ripe tomato.

I guess the New Year fairies didn’t come along and transform my socially awkward self as I’d hoped when we welcomed 2018…