I'm fucking terrified.

It's been my main goal to return to uni and I make out that I'm excited, I am but

It scares me,

I've had disability meetings about;

What help I'll need

How they can support me

What I'll need to re-do and when to start the work

What if on the first day I walk through the doors and cry? 

I look around the class I'll be with for three years and hate them all?

I don't make friends because I'm disabled?

People laugh at me?

I can't walk in thinking in the best because I've completed some of first year already, I'll have some random sitting with me every fucking day.

Checking MY work

Walking round carrying my stuff..

Sounds really good to some people but thinking of getting even more stares makes me want to cry.

I can't even imagine if I have to stand up and talk in front of everyone..

What if my speech goes funny? What if I have a seizure?

Can I trust the random class of people to help me and to understand what's happening?

I'll miss just walking into class and sitting down like everyone else.

'Liz you'll adjust to it it'll get better'

What if it doesn't 

What if I fail..

£9,000 wasted.

People might read this and assume I'm not ready or it's too soon.

I'm not going to say you're wrong, it might be..

I just want and wanted to prove it can and will do whatever it takes to get my life back.

Support me don't judge me.

What it's like to have a major stroke inside and out

This is a blog post to explain everything.

if I could explain it in two words it would be

Fucking shit.

No one prepares you for the coming home struggles;

 the adaptations

loosing all your friends

 depression

 confusion

 patronising comments and conversations

 lectures on how to do things

 hugs of sympathy

 crying randomers

old people making friends with you

people comparing your stroke to a family members thinking it will help.

People laughing staring and pointing

Loosing a body part

Physios and ot's in hospital prepare you for nothing helpful.

You leave hospital thinking it's going to be so much fun not working or being stressed.

You then reach your 'goal', home.

You cry and can't adjust to being where you thought would be amazing..

Then you start recovery. No recovering unless you get help.

They don't tell you that everything will be hard, 

Slipping in the shower

Not being able to get into a bath

Being to tired to function

Tripping over stupid things

Oh and then you see your best mates for the first time out of hospital,

Don't expect sympathy, everyone assumes you're back to normal.

They get confused..

You get hurt 

They leave..

Then you're left with fuck all.

Wondering why they'd gone.

Oh then there's the crying before you step out your front door, when you can walk and you're allowed.

You cry scream and wish you could walk like everyone else

Everyday

Every night 

Every minute hour and second you wonder

'Why me?!'

'What did I do?!'

'Can I just end it all now?!'

Then you get the rude comments.

'You know you'd be  liked if the stroke wasn't your life'

Fuck off. 

It's with me forever and it's hard.

Then there's the medication;

13 tablets a day

 4 blood tests a month

 6 doctors appointments a month

 28 days of headaches and upset.

I've never really told anyone all of this because I thought you'd all realise but then I remembered it's not happened to you.

My family know because they watched me go through it.

Don't read this and email me saying that I should speak to someone, because it's happened and it's rude.

I don't need to think anymore

i used to have to think about everything I was doing; walking and the technique of bending and straightening my leg so that I looked like everyone else..
I used to have to think about how people were talking to or at me.. Taking in their emotions and struggling to understand how to reply.
I used to think about what I'd done a day before or how to respond to people when they say 'hi you okay?!' Now I just respond and talk..

My brains still recovering and I have to think sometimes of strategies of doing stuff..
We went on a boat tour last week and before we'd left the house I'd started to plan how I was going to get in and out of the boat throughout the boat tour I was thinking of how to get off the boat safely..
I managed it but I have simple things to take into account that I don't want to fail when trying to do it..
Even crossing a road incase I don't get across fast enough.

I write my blogs now without thinking into depth of words and language to use that explain how I feel..
I write more fluent from what is coming from my heart and head.

It's taken a while and I'll still be thinking for the rest of my life but it's improving slowly as time goes on...

My hidden disability

Despite the fact my arm doesn't work and I walk slower doesn't show my true disability..

I'm classed as disabled for the top reasons..

But what they don't take into account is;
How I forget everything
How I struggle to process any emotions
How I misinterpret the way people treat or talk to me
How I struggle to multi task, making life harder to get things done quicker
How I struggle with mild anxiety and depression,.
I mean everyone gets "down days" yeah we get and understand you feel "upset" why? Because you've got no money?..
Mines different, mine can cause me to physically try to kill myself, feeling like I've not achieved anything at all.
Feeling like I'm useless in the world
Feeling asif I get judged and laughed at.
The thoughts do go away but at the point of the thoughts being there, it's like nothing can stop you feeling better,
The fact that I can't smile everyday, not because I'm unhappy but because I struggle with many things..


Behind closed doors;
I still sit on a stool in the shower
I still can't cut food up or make meals for myself if it means I stand for long periods of time





Flashing lights and long nights;
I go clubbing, seems like I have an amazing time, everyone's nights out seem so good..
Photos, alcohol, friends, music and dressing up to look good..

As I walk into a pub or club I have to physically process everything that I'll be feeling while I'm in there, people you're with plan the night, everywhere you're going to go. I have to research the clubs;
Are there stairs?...
"I mean what if the toilets are upstairs?"
Are there loads of strobe lights?
Are there seats in the club?...
" I can't stand for too long so I'll need to sit down."
What time does it open and close?...
"Will my friends want to stay all night?!"
Are there security and bouncers?..
"If I collapse would they know what to do?"
I Research on if anyone's been spiked or hurt near the club..
What I've leave the bar and someone follows me aiming to spike me, because I look vulnerable and confused?..
"She looks up for it"

I keep dancing on my own.

All thoughts that I didn't have before my stroke, not because of knowing the clubs but because now I'm different I need to look after myself.
I know what you're thinking.. "Well clubbing and drinking isn't exactly looking after yourself"

I look up the clubs photos to see if the club gets busy, wondering if I'll get pushed and shoved.

When in the club it's fine,
I mean everyone gets worked up. Don't they? Is that normal?..

You wait at the bar after strutting in trying to act like your mates, holding your head as high as you can.. Pretending you're not smiling at people checking you out.
"Can they see my splint?!"
"Can they see my arm?"


You get your drink and edge and push your way out the ques of people waiting to drink and binge on alcohol, frowning at those who make you spill the drink and wobble and down respect that I can't balance on one leg..

You see your mates dance to the dance floor that's full of young girls showing thighs legs and boobs. "do I look stupid cause I'm not like that?"
They dance and twirl around dropping to the floor and jumping around..
"Lizzie come dance"
Urgh  get off my arm, I can't move like that..
"If I sit down will they think I'm boring?!"

I get headaches and tired, it's the fact I need to take in so much and get over the grief of how I used to just get up and dance while holding two drinks
 like the girls I'm sitting in the corner staring at.

I then massage my calf where my splint rubs and sit back downing my drink looking as normal as I can trying to fit in.



You might not see my hidden disabilities but I feel them everyday and they haunt me every night.


Im still at the stages of trying to look normal and act like everyone else, I take photos to document how in a weird way I'm having the best time, how I look good to fit in and still look slightly attractive.
I remember my 21st when my old mates left me in the street because I couldn't be bothered to walk back up stairs to watch them dance.

I remember when my ex stopped me going out because I was going to cheat..

Make the most of the nights out Lizzie..
You used to go out all the time.