Not before time, drawing a line, this next year is mine

~ nicoladonnelly ~ Leave a comment

It’s late February and I finally feel a change in the season. I have woken up to blue skies and a calm mind. Something has shifted and I feel that the trust I had in better days ahead is revealing its promise. I have been floating over the surface but now I feel present. Which is handy, because I turn 40 in less than six months and I plan on having a good time for my big birthday. I want to make changes and so I really hope my luck is changing too. Even if I don’t really know if I believe in luck.

Prelude to a (probably not ancient, or indeed existent) curse

It has been a bit of a year, if a year was 18 months long, and felt like a decade. In the summer of 2022, we reluctantly put our house on the market. With sadness at the circumstances but certain we were doing the best thing for a positive future for our family and they kind of home we now needed. At this point some kind of ancient curse, as old as the local Property Centre’s operating system, seeped into our unsuspecting lives. It might have been a hex, bad karma, poor manifesting… or just a series of unfortunate events on a personal, regional, national and international level.

We were teetering about on the closest we get to an even keel at that point.

Following two years of pandemic-related stress and disruption. Within a period of professional abandonment of statutory provisions for our boy. On a foundation of much worked family wellbeing as we recovered from a myriad of trauma that comes with having a child with a rocky start to life and profund and multiple additional needs. We were getting by so we chose thatmoment.

The decision to sell our home was the starting gun on a period of such unlikely disruptions, that are not individually remarkable, but collectively a massive headfuck (and I really did look for an alternative word here but nothing else works).

A note on sharing stories

I won’t share all of our challenges, they are not all my stories to tell. Not all of the things that impact us are our own troubles, but are often the side effects of loving others, having the courage to be vulnerable and existing in a society that lacks compassion. We cannot always understand or control what hurts us, we just know that we feel hurt.  

I always share stories when I am on the up. When I have the energy. But also when I have a message of hope. When I have found the positive. I wonder if that is a disservice to how I practice writing. I wonder if I feel too vulnerable in the moment, too overwhelmed, too worthless. Maybe my next step is to tell the stories when I don’t know how it ends. I don’t know what the point or the learning is. Not that we ever do really. We can close chapters but there is always more story. I do know I am compelled to share this one now.

Getting on with my ‘annus horriblis’. A term often associated with the late Queen Elizabeth II. It’s interesting she pops into my mind because her truly terrible year was absolutely cushioned by privilege, but not without pain. And sometimes we are guilty of not feeling compassion when we don’t like someone’s circumstances. Like there is some kind of criteria for compassion.

The annus horriblis

Events include:

Successfully completing the sale on our home on the third set of buyers after two failed to settle, one week and then one day before the deadline.

Not knowing whether we would have funds to complete the purchase of our next house.

Which was then delayed by seven months in a process where we were never given a clear timeline of events or any kind of accountability/ recompense/ acknowledgement of the challenge.

Some devastating personal news that broke my heart and foundations, while I did not have my own home but did have somewhere I was loved and welcome.

Rebuilding my fragile but spiralling self-esteem.

Dealing with painful abdominal symptoms while awaiting surgery.

Having surgery and not being primary caregiver for a while.

Battling with services to access statutory provision on two fronts – short breaks and wraparound care.

Completing the purchase of a house and discovering it was far from ready and needed a fair amount of investment, while recovering from surgery.

A long wait and anticipation for my son’s major, essential and potentially life-changing surgery.

Supporting an incredibly vulnerable and necessarily resilient child through surgery and supporting afterwards to lead a life even more restricted than usual.

Dealing with the painful aftermath of restriction and then rehabilitation.

Learning

Throughout that period that has been joy too. And we are better placed now to soar. We have rebuilt our nest, we have secured our home and our family, we have plans in place for productive and HAPPY events. I have been learning too. I have learned about not needing a reason to find something hard. Not needing permission to be sad and sit with the sadness. Not finding the bright side straightaway. Being compassionate to yourself, feeling all the feelings and when you are ready, taking action. Not leaping up so quickly you risk more injury. I can be pragmatic. I can take decisions in stages. I can lower my standards. I can hold myself accountable but still summon self-compassion. This is my big old ugly cry.

I know there will also be challenges. I believe there will always be learning too. I have been pulled apart, my pieces are laid out in front of me and i am going put them back together again with new skills and insight, hoping that my new form is malleable to however I want to shape it in future. When I am in flow. Because I am molten. Golden. I want to shine. It’s time to hit my prime.  

Where have you been, Nic?

~ nicoladonnelly ~ 2 Comments

Hi, it’s been a while! My last blog was in March 2021. Lockdown number 3? 4? Those days feel a bit surreal to me now and I am not sure I’ve ever really taken stock of what exactly has changed in myself and others, but it feels big. There has been a shift and I see the effects manifest differently across generations. I see young people struggle with anxiety. I see older people with less confidence in getting out and about. I see children who missed most of the pre-school stage of life and their parents who missed the bonding that you do with others in the early years. Of course, for some, it isn’t ‘over.’

People with certain health conditions and vulnerabilities are still very careful to avoid catching any respiratory illnesses. People are excluded for other reasons such as poverty, lack of care workers to enable them and fewer funded opportunities in the community. Then, of course, there are some who will always be grieving loved ones, have symptoms of Long Covid and conditions exacerbated by how the NHS had to repurpose itself for years and may never recover. Our streets have changed too from the closure of businesses that could just not sustain themselves through the lockdowns and then the knock-on effect of the cost of living crisis that followed.

For a while, I was hopeful that once the whole of society had experienced worry, isolation and frustration in lockdown, it would make us have more empathy for those who are more familiar with it. To have less freedom and convenience in life, to experience a lack of resources or opportunities, to feel forgotten. I am also thinking about carers. The people who work in care have never really caught their breath or been rewarded, and sometimes have gone unacknowledged. For unpaid carers, who care for friends or relatives, there has been a withdrawal and decimation of already inadequate services. We are met with counter offers of resilience classes, wellbeing sessions, and online support groups which sometimes, in particular frames of mind, is more insulting and demoralising than being offered nothing at all.

And this is where I have been. This is where my energy has been spent. Advocating for myself and my family and for others. I watched the world move on without us. I felt othered. I felt excluded. I felt abandoned. And the feeling of abandonment for me, is key. Shortly after I published my last blog post, I asked for help. Tearfully and with a lump in my throat, I said I just wasn’t coping very well with all the demands on me as a parent carer and I felt desperate. And nothing happened.

And that is where my blog post (almost) ends, but actually, where my journey of the last two years begins.

It hasn’t all been difficult, there have been highlights like our son starting school and doing really well there, going abroad for therapy and sunshine, family trips, new milestones and achievements and some pretty hefty life changes.

I have learned an awful lot. About myself, my family and the formal and informal support systems around us. I have learned things that are useful to other familes, and parent carers, and women, like me that I now want to share. I realised that I had to find some even ground for our family to sit on for a while and then I could help others. And here I am. Ready to share – how I got support, how I found the nerve, how I didn’t give up, why there is so much more to do, why I am not scared and how I am so much more than ‘mum’ opposite ‘professionals’. I can teach them. I can use my experience to help make things better for others. I can be a part of change.

My lockdown essentials: podcasts

~ nicoladonnelly ~ Leave a comment

A post about why I love podcasts and which shows are seeing me through.

Over the last year or so I have been consuming podcasts as regularly as I watch TV or read books. I like that I can listen almost anywhere or doing anything. It was a revelation that I prefer listening to podcasts when running to listening to music. They hold my attention for longer. I also listen when driving alone, cooking, walking, in the bath, ironing. They are a reliable and comforting presence when my mind needs to be channelled into being occupied, but not overwhelmed.

I work alone, run alone and spend most of my days off alone right now and I like the effortless company – having chatter alongside me that I don’t need to find the energy to engage in. Arranging to meet a friend for a walk or to catch up on the phone needs coordination and frankly it’s been a long year of walking and video calls. I like letting new perspectives and ideas wash over me and I can choose the level of attention I want to give it without worrying about appearing rude.

I have noticed that I like to listen to podcasts led by females most often. I live with two boys and I definitely miss the female company of my friends and colleagues. My friendship Whatsapp groups are a place of comfort. Where a few words can say so much and I am just, known. I have realised that it is the familiar format and reassuring shorthand that I also seek through my listening.

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Getting uncomfortable with self-care

~ nicoladonnelly ~ Leave a comment

I’m a huge advocate of self-care and even I am getting sick of those hyphenated words in a year where they are offered as the solution to so many ills. I have had people comment on how seriously I take it. For most of my adult life I have been navigating the highs and lows of the world of ‘wellness’ and in the three years since becoming a parent, it has been an important focus. I simply need my body and mind to perform for me every single day to fulfil all my roles and no more so than that of parent carer to Leo. I need to be strong enough to lift him, have the stamina to meet all his needs, be tenacious enough to advocate for him and be mentally fit enough not just to overcome the trauma we have endured together, but be resilient enough for whatever comes next.

It’s not all on me. I have help. I am aware that many who really need to look after themselves are not getting what they need. I have good family support. A brilliant local authority nursery. A personal trainer who cares about the whole picture. Understanding and supportive employers. I have drawn on practical and emotional support from charities. My boys provide the joy and the why, my home and my motivations. I invest in my health because my loved ones depend on it, but it’s more challenging that buying bath bombs, lighting candles and eating chocolate (but I do those things too.)

I believe that true self-care makes us uncomfortable. It is the harder daily route. I go out and run when I want to curl up and watch Netflix. I plan meals when I want to call for takeaway. I journal and work on my thoughts and fears when I want to bury my feelings. I meditate when I would like to scroll mindlessly. I prioritise the must do from the should do. I write emails of complaint when I would rather avoid conflict. These choices do not always make me feel kind to myself or relaxed, and they challenge me rather than soothe. But I know it’s what I need, and what I need to be for Leo. It’s about being accountable and responsible. Self-care can be fun, life-enriching and transformational; but it can also be very hard work. It is what you can control in an ever-changing landscape; but it doesn’t solve everything. It can also be an enormous privilege in the face of poverty, illness, discrimination and isolation.

What self-care is definitely not about, is fobbing people off when they should be properly served by authorities. I feel alarmed with the increasing reliance on teaching ‘self-care’ to carers who should be supported with respite. I am appalled that ‘wellness tips’ are offered instead of proper mental healthcare services to people who are suffering. Employers should not be offering ‘wellbeing’ leaflets when they cannot offer flexible-working, acceptable terms and conditions and defined roles and responsibilities.

For me, self-care is what we can do personally, so we can fulfil our responsibilities and potential to ourselves and others. But it does not replace essential public services that are legally and morally bound to provide for us.

Juggling: stuff the rules and rule the stuff

~ nicoladonnelly ~ 1 Comment

I asked on Instagram recently if the people who watch my stories have any blog subject requests. A sole suggestion was made… ‘juggling everything [exploding head emoji]’. I could almost feel the overwhelm through the screen. I know this woman has three children and I suspect ‘everything’ in this context is about being a mum, a wife and her own person. So here it goes… Spoiler: I don’t have the definitive answer. But I think it begins with challenging some assumptions.

Mum calendars

Every year the ‘Calendar Stall’ appears during the run up to Christmas in our local shopping centre. Year on year, the number of ‘Mum calendars’ appearing on the racks seems to increase and for me, this feature of kitchens everywhere sums up the overwhelm pretty well. Titled ‘Supermum’, ‘Do-it-all-mum’ and ‘Mum’s Busy Day’, the pages are illustrated with cartoons of frazzled women and have text in ‘fun’ fonts. The calendars have a column for everyone in the household, sometimes even pets! In the calendar world, mums exist to make sure everyone is in the right place at the right time with the things we need and ultimately… they are responsible for no one ever forgetting anything. Ever. ‘Cheery’ wall calendars are sold as the project management tool of choice for unpaid work done by a workforce of women increasingly feeling overwhelmed by the mental load. Perpetuating the idea that this is our job. Whether you are a man, woman, put-upon child or anthropomorphic pet, IT IS NOT YOUR JOB TO DO EVERYTHING WHEN YOU LIVE IN A HOUSE WITH OTHER PEOPLE. Or at least, it doesn’t have to be.

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#Upfront – a confidence course for women (Reviewed)

~ nicoladonnelly ~ Leave a comment

I first came across Lauren Currie in 2016 when I was feeling a bit lost. I had just closed my retail business, my dream that had not worked out as planned and was looking to the next opportunity. Dealing with failure is hard and exposes vulnerability, and in my case, in a fairly public way. My first encounter with Lauren is documented in an old blog post written at the time. We tried to get an in-person Upfront course going in Dundee a year or so later but unfortunately, we just couldn’t get the numbers to make it viable.

I continued to follow Lauren’s progress on social media and enjoy her blogs. An entrepreneur, yes, but with a mission. To do things better. Her content and attention were increasingly about the visibility of women on stages and panels, in board rooms and in public discourse. She absolutely walks the walk and started the Upfront movement. Allowing people to experience stages. Building public speaking skills. Ultimately, helping people, specifically women, find their confidence.

2020 has brought lots disruption and necessary innovations and I was delighted to see one of them was Lauren taking her Upfront course online. In some ways my confidence has improved since my teens. I don’t fear public speaking, I can contribute in meetings and I can advocate for myself. But it doesn’t feel comfortable and I know I can be much better. I don’t think I allow myself to fully explore my potential and I often pause from sharing or publishing what I really think. I worry far too much about others think about me.

I signed up for the six-week course. I took the four payment instalment option and for clarity, I paid full price and have not been given a discount or incentive to review or recommend this. (I can provide a link to get a discount, so ask me if you want it! It takes the course from around £385 to £308). I paid personally and did not approach my employer in this instance. I signed up before my son was back at nursery, knowing that we would be spending a week in hospital for planned surgery, that we would spend a week on holiday and with the commitments of work. I know there is never a good time to fit learning and development in – there is only making time.

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1980s Dundee: girls and confidence

~ nicoladonnelly ~ Leave a comment

A list of things said around me, and probably most other girls growing up in the late 1980s and early 1990s Scotland:

  • Stop showing off
  • Little girls who ask, don’t get
  • Don’t talk back
  • Adults are talking
  • No one likes a show-off
  • Who does she think she is?
  • They’re full of themselves
  • If they were a bar of chocolate, they’d eat themselves
  • (Sarcastically) I love me, who do you love?
  • Good girls are quiet
  • Oh she loves herself (that was NOT a compliment)
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A confidence crisis in women – turning anger into hope-driven action

~ nicoladonnelly ~ Leave a comment

Lately I have had the pleasure of joining a group of intelligent, capable, hard-working, beautiful, thoughtful women on a confidence course. They work around the world and in all kinds of organisations. I don’t know, but I can imagine, they earn vastly different salaries and I know they are of different ages, stages, backgrounds and nationalities. And listening to this group of women has made me angry. So angry. The kind of angry that sparks hot tears and sets your stomach spinning. Not because they were saying anything awful, they were speaking truthfully. But because they were reflecting the deepest, darkest thoughts I have had, and my female friends and relatives probably have too. They were sharing how a lack of confidence was holding them back in aspects of their life. It is debilitating. It is destructive. It is devastating.

And here’s the thing that really drives me crazy – this lack of power is completely embedded across institutions in society to keep women feeling like this. How dare our childhoods do this to us? How dare society malign us? How dare we allow our gifts to be hidden away while mediocracy reigns? We are missing out on talented leadership, original thought and creative innovation that can solve the types of challenges that are really puzzling us in the world and we are owed the voices of these women, as much as women are due to be heard.

So, I am angry, but I am taking action. I am halfway through Lauren Currie’s Upfront course and it has my rapt attention. Lauren talks about finding a positive and joyful view of issues as anger disengages audiences. It makes a lot of sense. Especially when I think of the speakers I enjoy the most – they are charismatic and they give me hope. Thankfully, finding positives in a situation, focusing on things I can control and practicing gratitude for life’s gifts are things I have been working on for most of my adult life. I can find hope in many places, but I have been needing the final piece to take action and speak up – the audacity.

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‘rona’ rage – losing my rag and my empathy

~ nicoladonnelly ~ 4 Comments

I think we have all discovered new things that annoy us this year. Change has been imposed on us and many of us do not feel the same control over our lives as we are used to. It’s no wonder that we are all feeling a bit more irritable. 

Mostly I have stayed calm with all the changes. I started wearing a face covering before it became mandatory to get used to it, and I am now. I have followed the lockdown guidance and do my best to maintain social distancing. I leave my details when eating out for track and trace and I am fastidious about hand-washing/sanitising. I don’t like home working much but I have learned how to stay connected and motivated. 

I see others around me struggling – either being uncomfortable or reluctant, or just being overwhelmed by the volume and speed of changes. Many are still too frightened or vulnerable to venture out. I can understand that, Coronavirus may have been suppressed, but it is still very much around. We can see that by all the restrictions still around us. 

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Things parents of children with special needs knew before coronavirus

~ nicoladonnelly ~ Leave a comment

I am watching the world around me confront a new reality brought by the COVID-19 pandemic. Every life lost to this virus is a tragedy and the scale of loss is devastating to the entire global community. I realise the worldwide severity of this illness and I, in no way, would or could ever rationalise or minimise that devastation.  Today, on the 22nd of May, the number of lives lost is 333,000 with over 5.1 million people found to be infected.[1] One-third of a million families grieving a loss due to COVID-19.

I am watching this unfold in Scotland as a parent of one of the one billion people[2] in the world with a disability (and as a big sister to another). I have seen my life change dramatically as a result of steps our Governments have taken to limit the loss of lives and prevent overwhelming our NHS. For one billion people who were already coping with the challenges disability created in their everyday lives and their families, things have become even harder. Until this point, I have been fortunate enough not to have anyone in my immediate family become ill or lose their life to coronavirus. That is the one thing I focus on when people ask how my family is. Commenting anything other than “well” can feel indulgent. Despite the fact we are without nursery, therapies and clinics, not to mention the circle of supportive family and friends we usually have around us, it does not occur to me to complain. It’s no one’s ‘fault’ and we work around it.

I have observed how the people around me, and the wider public have behaved through the emergence of the virus and the lockdown. I have seen my own thoughts and behaviours metamorphise as we move through the weeks. I have been shocked, saddened, angry, moved, thrilled, delighted, bored, frightened, grateful and exhausted. Like many carers, feeling all of these things in a week is not that unusual.

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