For anyone riding the rollercoaster of fertility treatment, you will no doubt, have had those days when your mind just plays games on you
One minute you have a firm grasp on hope, but in a flash, you have convinced yourself it just isn’t going to work.
There is no continuity when it comes to the order of your thoughts, and sometimes, it can all become just a bit too much, as Jodie Nicolson knows only too well. Here she describes how her mind was playing tricks on her.
Our minds – they are so complex, so creative, such a wonder and yet can often be our biggest enemy
With all its positive potential, I’m fearfully confused by the way my mind thrives on wicked games.
Throwing parties of confidence with its banners of hope and confetti of positivity luring me into a false sense of calm and allowing me to feel somewhat safe in the knowledge that I can do this, only to crash the party with the heaviest of blows, darkness descends and the party is most definitely over. What was once a multi coloured array of glitter and sparkle is now black and empty desperately seeking the light.
I often flitted between these two states
Without warning my mind would sharply throw me between the two, often winding me in the process resulting in a sickly feeling right in the pit of my stomach.
I desperately tried to cling on to the hope the positive celebration allowed me to experience however I was more often than not left with the pity party I loathed.
You would think it would be easy to control, surely it’s my mind, I can just decide which state to experience, which part to attend.
I wish it was that easy. I was never in control. My mind controlled me
I needed to get a grasp on things, I needed to learn how to control this powerful beast. The danger the darkness was capable of frightened me more than anything I had ever experienced before. Knowing how creative and organised my beautiful mind once was, I tried to find ways to occupy it. Positivity reinforce its kinder capabilities.
Drawing, painting, writing.
Talking therapy helped. It allowed me to release some static and in the process offered clarity and organised some of the chaos
I was hopeful of my journey, this could work, we could be successful.
But I was also so very scared. What if it didn’t? What if the money ran out? What if I can’t do this? What if my body can’t do this?
Some days I was able to remain positive, I coped with the physicality of IVF and I was able to keep the internal battles in check for a short time.
Other days I barely made it through. I couldn’t get out of bed as my mind pulled me deeper and darker.
The one thing I was absolutely certain of was that I must carry on
My body must continue on this journey of daily injections and medication even if my mind wasn’t present. My mind allowed my body to work separately. As if two separate entities that could function without one another.
But as my body struggled with the physicality of IVF, my mind took advantage of the vulnerability and thrived on the failing my body sadly felt.
With every bruise came a wave of defeat that only fed the monster that was growing in the darkness. With enough strength this monster could ruin me. Sucking the life out of me until there was nothing but an empty shell left.
As my journey progressed I slowly realised the strength my body was demonstrating
The resistance to defeat and determination to succeed. As hard as the physical symptoms were, my body carried on. She never gave in, bruise on top of bruise, swollen, tender, tired yet still standing (figuratively).
I learnt that I must respect my mind, I must be aware of it’s darkness but not focus on this too much. Instead rejoice in its strength and be thankful for its guidance and power.
Be kind to yourselves.
It’s so easy to only see the darkness, in doing so you miss those colourful parties your mind is trying to give you.
Be aware. Regain control. Let hope guide you.