PTSD and Fibromyalgia diagnoses in the same year? Great...

I've been wondering whether to share this for the last week now. About two years ago I promised all my friends and family that I was going to be more open about my medical struggles both physical and mental, because the stigma around mental health and invisible illness can only be overcome by people openly talking about it. I don't talk about everything all the time, because my struggles are not all that I am. I'm a daughter, a sister, a girlfriend, a friend, a colleague, a historian, a tea enthusiast and much more before I am my medical issues. But that doesn't mean that my medical issues don't have an impact on my life when I'm not talking about them. I struggle every day, but sometimes it's obvious which days I'm struggling more than others.

So here goes nothing.

Earlier this year, after having a resurgence of some very intense panic attacks, frequent faints that landed me in hospital overnight getting my heart checked, nightmares, and very horrible flashbacks to a bad situation I was in a few years ago, I decided to seek help. I was eventually diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) which was a relief, to be quite frank. The waiting for counselling has been horrendous and the fear of going out coupled with the frequent fainting only recently abated, which has had an impact on my ability to attend my degree course and work.

Fast forward to last Friday, where a flare up of pain left me in bed crying in agony. My mum encouraged me to go to the doctors as it has been over 10 years of me complaining of back pain and a myriad of other incapacitating symptoms that also impact my ability to work and get on with my education. I politely but firmly told my GP I was fed up of the pain and after so many invasive tests not knowing what was quite clearly wrong with my body. He eventually - after 10 years of investigating and debilitating pain - was able to tell me that he was very certain that I had fibromyalgia; a chronic illness that causes widespread pain, fatigue, pins and needles or numbness in the limbs, amongst other symptoms. Although I am happy that I finally know what is wrong with me, I am also sad. Some may ask why I could be sad at finally knowing the cause. But all these years I have held onto the hope that I would one day be better and not have to deal with the pain and constant tiredness, that I wouldn't worry about going to bed one night feeling fine and waking up immobile and in agony the next. I hoped that I would never have to take pain medications on a regular basis again, I hoped that I might never have to use crutches to support my legs again. But fibromyalgia is a chronic illness with no cure, and while I'm glad to know what I'm dealing with now, I'm mourning the loss of hope that I would be magically cured. Which, coupled with finding out I'm hypermobile last year, which causes extra stress on my joints as they're a bit too bendy, has all been a bit much.

Experiencing PTSD the way I have this year, and coming to terms with the fibromyalgia diagnosis has been hard. I didn't know what to expect in 2019 but this definitely wasn't it. The only good thing to come out of these diagnoses though is that I'm determined not to let my anxiety, the PTSD, the hypermobility or the fibromyalgia ruin my life or stop me achieving anything I set my mind to. I know my body's limits, and I will 100% try to respect them, but not at the cost of having a happy and productive life.

That's A Wrap! (Content Warning)

If anyone had told me that I would get to the end of my degree in one piece, I would have laughed in their face, and told them to stop winding me up. But, with only one exam left, it would seem that despite all the trials I have faced during my degree, I have indeed made it out in one piece after all.

I never thought I would make it into university in the first place. I was convinced that I wouldn't achieve my dreams. When I got to university; I became a campus relationship statistic (though, by the grace of God, not the most serious campus statistic), I experienced numerous breakdowns, extreme setbacks and hospitalisations with my spine, seen my parents split and reunite, lost an entire 'friendship' group, and battled with feeling like I couldn't do it. I've called my Mum crying saying I wanted to drop out at least 4 times each academic year.
 I've battled with body image and old ED habits, with being unable to move/shower/walk without assistance, with being lonely and scared while 130 miles from home - which is 129 too many when you're a big softie like me.

But I have met some amazing people, became closer friends with two of the most amazing people, felt the love and support of my little sister in measures I've never seen before, had the encouragement and patience of four of the most inspirational young women ever, and have been cheered up every day by my friends from home. I made it through every trial that life has thrown at me so far and I don't intend to stop fighting now.

I've shocked myself at how much I've grown as a person. Coming to Nottingham Trent University has helped me unlock the ability to decide what is right for me, regardless of whether other people think I'm right. It has taught me to know when to push my limits and when to play it safe. It has given me the space to rebel and rediscover who I am, and has allowed me to learn when to ask for help. It has taught me to keep fighting for what I know is right, and to keep pushing forwards every day even when I feel at my worst. It has made me more appreciative of my friends and family - as without them I wouldn't be here to celebrate making it through three years as an undergraduate.

QMC, Rare Conditions, and Consultants

In the early hours of Sunday 5 March I was admitted to Queens Medical Centre (QMC) in Nottingham for a flare up of back pain that had worsened. At this point, it had already lasted three weeks but I'd developed new symptoms and even my home supply of strong pain medication wasn't doing anything to diminish the pain. QMC were brilliant, they did all the right blood tests, did a new MRI of my spine, gave me the best care I've ever had (barring one rude doctor who assumed that because I was sitting up that I was well enough to go home), did all the right checks and took all the best precautions when I started collapsing, and ensured that the physiotherapists gave me crutches and did some occupational therapy checks so I'd be safe once I got home. The whole experience was a little scary at times as. One of the times that I collapsed I had to be given oxygen and a doctor had to be called, my blood sugar levels kept dropping really low at points - I think 3.1 was the lowest it got, and a patient opposite me took ill in the early hours one night and emergency measures had to be taken to save her which was terrifying to listen to. And it's always hard when you have to go into hospital on your own, away from your family and they can only visit once because you're so far away.

As far as the actual problems with my back, I was diagnosed in 2012 as having something called Syringomyelia. It's a cyst or syrinx in the spinal cord that can cause a variety of symptoms, many of which I experience. According to a variety of medical sites, it's apparently rather rare, although not untreatable. I was told by my consultant at my London hospital that the Syringomyelia wasn't causing any problems but that they were going to continue investigating to find out what was wrong, and they bluntly refuse to drain it (which can cause more problems if left). During my recent stay in hospital, it was made apparent to me that the doctors at QMC felt it was the syrinx that was causing problems - which certainly makes sense when I compare the symptoms it causes against my own. I've been mad at my consultant for years for lack of communication with me, and to know that I was diagnosed with something but told that it wasn't an issue despite all the problems it's causing me is heartbreaking. It's hindering my ability to progress with my life the way a regular 22 year old woman should be, and the impact of these flare ups extends across my academic, financial, and personal life.
And it's crushing me to feel like my consultant doesn't take me seriously, and thinks I can manage with these worsening flare ups and every day symptoms on my own.

Im not very well versed in rare conditions, nor do I know much about my own spinal condition. All I know is the impact it's having on my education, my friendships, relationships, employability, and my mental health. The anxiety of going to bed worrying about whether you'll be able to walk when you wake up even if you went to bed feeling fine  the feeling low because you have to frequently cancel or just avoid making plans and can't go to your classes, the frustration of realising that you need assistance brushing your teeth and getting to the toilet because of being immobile/in too much pain. It can be absolutely devastating, especially at 22.

I'm so thankful to have such a wonderful support network. My family, my closest uni friends, the amazing women I did my NSPCC internship with, and my closest friends from home have given me so much strength and support. I would be truly lost without the support network I have and not for a second do I ever take any of them for granted. I was lucky enough in my last relationship to have someone that was so supportive and caring when it came to my back problems and the toll that it could often take on the relationship. While lots of other things may not have gone right, his support and fierce encouragement to get the medical help when I needed it is something that I will always be thankful to him for. More often than not I still think "what would he advise me to do?" to gauge what I should do when I'm in a medical pickle!

I don't really know what the future holds for me with regards to my spine. I still have high aspirations and I know the path I want to take with my career. I know the plans I have for my future, it's just a matter of making the adjustments now to make sure my back cooperates. But it doesn't mean that it's any less frustrating that it's been nearly 7 years of investigating and we're not really that much closer to finding out what to do next. I'm prepared for the worst but always hoping for the best. I don't want my syringomyelia to define me, but it is a significant part of my life at the moment.

Why It Is Imperative to Love Yourself Before You Love Someone Else

I've never understood why people say "to accept love from someone else, you must first love yourself". Before, that seems utterly silly and a little conceited. Loving yourself - in my eyes - seems to connote being vain, having really high standards, and that you didn't need to rely on anyone else because you were better than others on your own. But as I've gotten older and more mature, and have had relationships and bad friends who have tried to crush my spirit; I finally understand what it truly means to love yourself.

To love yourself means to be pleased of all your achievements and to keep aspiring and working towards great things. But it also means owning - and moving on from - all your negative experiences too. By holding on to past hurts, we are more likely to keep track of recent hurts and lump them all together. As my mum would say, "Take your test and turn it into a TESTIMONY".

Loving yourself means taking care of yourself and accepting your great features and qualities. Investing the time to feel presentable, developing your hobbies, indulging and pampering ourselves from time to time.

Equally, it means looking at your quirks and not-so-great habits, working out the ones you can change, and accepting the things that quintessentially make you the individual that you are. It means forgiving ourselves for the things we've done wrong. We cannot hope to tolerate someone else's annoying habits or quirks if we don't accept our own, and we cannot hope to forgive someone else's transgressions fully if we do not forgive ourselves for our own transgressions.

It means being comfortable on your own. Learning to love your own company and the time we devote to doing the things we love. Because we cannot hope to appreciate the serenity and preciousness of being in someone else's presence if we can't stand being on our own. Because someone sharing their down-time with you is an incredibly precious thing, because that is when they're most themselves and often most vulnerable. And the trust that that demonstrates is incredible. So become comfortable with your own company so you can better appreciate someone else's.

It means dropping the people that make you feel like less than. Those people that tell you either through their actions or words that you are not good enough. Those people that think that controlling you, hitting you, or making derogatory comments is okay. It is not okay. And you are more than good enough. Even if it means you are alone, it is better to be alone than to feel criticised and lonely in someone else's presence, right?

It means getting the help you need, instead of being proud or thinking that you can always do it on your own. Even if that means medication, therapy, rehab, academic help, financial help - it is worth it. And when you accept that you can't always and don't always have to do things alone, you'll be more open to allowing someone you love to help you.

And then, and I think only then, can you appreciate the love from anyone else.

What It Means To Be Me

Too many people have tried to shape me, I have had to dumb down aspects of myself to please others, been subjected to often insidious and almost invisible control. And I'm so done with it all. I want to be myself. For the longest while I've not been too sure who that is, or what that means, but by the time I'm done with this rant, I think I'll have found out.

I am me. I am short, mixed race, intelligent, creative, bad tempered, loving, crazy, thoughtful, broke, dedicated, bilingual, lazy, lactose intolerant, occasionally vegetarian, weird, geeky, focused, anxious and scared, hypersensitive, hypermobile, clumsy, creative, eloquent, conscientious, moody, passionate, brave, irrational, logical, travel-loving, pedantic, dense, a bit curvy, reliable, bisexual but not bi-romantic, graceful but not always lady-like, grungy yet preppy in style, and positively besotted with my family. I find it hard to trust and hard to love, but when I do I trust completely and love completely.

Now, in the past two years I've experienced a breakup with the only person I've ever loved, seen my parents split, watched my sister go through an emotionally abusive relationship, I've seen my Mum in and out of hospital for chest problems, I've been subject to derogatory comments, backstabbing and physical abuse from people that I once considered friends, I've had hospital visits and in-patient stays, I've seen my grades slip here and there, I've had to start therapy. I've been absolutely broke and had to borrow money just to be able to eat some days.

But I'll be dammed if I didn't say that I'm stronger now.

In spite of all that I've been through, I am now physically, emotionally and mentally stronger. I've learned to drop the people around me that make me feel as though I am worth nothing. I've learned to shut certain people out when necessary in order to be my best at university. I've made the decision to get help and start becoming the string young woman that I know I can be. I'm learning to stop being ashamed of my hobbies and interests, for they are what makes me interesting. I've seen my family reunite, seem my grades improve again, seen my health improve and seen my perception of myself change positively.

I no longer care about being lonely, because I have learned that it is better to be alone by yourself and confident with who you are than to feel lonely in other people's company.

And although my hear still aches to have my relationship restored and to feel loved by the person I love, I know that I cannot hope to change them and change their mind. I can only be a better person for myself, and it is a bonus if anyone else notices the changes in me.

I do not want my negative experiences to hinder me anymore. I want to be able to say I graduated from my university with a First, I want to say that I have let university and my life experiences shape me for the better. I want to remember that I am always worth loving and that I do deserve to be treated with respect, patience and kindness. I want to look in the mirror and love the person that I see in the reflection.

And I know that I can do it. Anyone that says, or makes me feel, otherwise is not a friend to me. But I am not defined by people's faith in me. I am defined by my belief in myself and my own capabilities. Anything else is a bonus.

So there. I am me. I am my quirks, qualities, flaws, and my skills. I am not anyone's puppet, anyone's doormat, nor anyone's interim/substitute until something 'better' comes along. I am impeccable and remarkable in spite of my flaws. I am Rhianna and I finally understand what it means to be me.

The Arts versus Business: Are Oil Companies The Right Sponsors For Museums?

A ‘flashmob’ protest against BP’s sponsorship of the British Museum in September 2015. Photograph: Niklas Halle'N/AFP/Getty Images (sourced from The Guardian.com)

Much like any other young adult, one of the first things I do of a morning is pick up my phone to see what I've missed overnight. Although I'll firstly check social apps that help me connect with my friends and university peers like YikYak and Facebook; I also check Flipboard and the 'trending news' section of Facebook. Usually the hot topics are celebrity based, a part of popular culture that I find it hard to engage with. But, in my perusing this morning, the topic "the British Museum" was among those trending.
Being a History undergraduate, a frequent visitor to the British Museum, and the British Museum being the topic of my dissertation; naturally it caught my interest.

Upon further reading, it transpires that the British Museum is under scrutiny from the group Art Not Oil, for its corporate ties with BP, one of the British Museum's 28 corporate sponsors and members. The campaign for the British Museum to end its allegiance with BP has been running since September 2015, and has garnered support from prominent figures and celebrities such as Mark Ruffalo, Emma Thompson, Margaret Atwood, and shadow chancellor John McDonnell.

Art Not Oil is, in their words, a "cross-section of people - artists, cultural event and gallery-goers, environmentalists, human rights activists and others - who believe that oil company logos represent a stain on our cultural institutions." Founded in 2004, their belief is that by institutions allowing these companies to provide sponsorship to them, it endorses the use of fossil fuels and is false altruism to compensate for environmental damage, such as the infamous Gulf of Mexico oil spill of 2010.

Their stance is one that argues that oil companies are no longer the right sponsors for the Arts, due to the public's changing and increased understanding of fossil fuels and their impact on the Earth. They argue that just as tobacco companies are no longer seen as respectable corporate sponsors, oil companies such as Shell and BP no longer should be either.

While Art Not Oil's intentions are noble, it then follows that we should call into question the other 27 corporate sponsors of the British Museum. The other corporate partners include organisations such as Genel Energy, a gas and oil company based in Jersey; Japan Tobacco International (JTI); Goldman Sachs; and Merrill Lynch.

Art Not Oil's stance with regards to BP then becomes questionable due to the their lack of visible angst towards Genel and JTI - both of whom, in their own manifesto, are deemed unsuitable sponsors for an arts institution. Similarly, banking corporations such as Merrill Lynch and Goldman Sachs have been fined and have come under scrutiny in the past few years for financial misconduct and the profit margins after being bailed out, respectively.

Does this mean that we, as the general public, should campaign for these corporations to end their sponsorship of the British Museum too, due to the increasing public understanding of banking corruption?

The British Museum, in Bloomsbury, London, was founded by Sir Hans Sloane with his personal collection of 71,000 items bequeathed to the public in his will in 1753, and is the world's first national public museum. It is now home to over eight million objects, has ten curatorial departments and provides Masters and short courses outsides of the events and exhibitions it holds for the public and members. As a charity registered organisation, it relies heavily on public donations and corporate sponsorship to keep its doors open for the 6 million people that visit each year.

While we do have a responsibility to maintain the planet we live on while developing in a sustainable manner, we also have a duty to preserve heritage - individual and global - for future generations. By dictating which organisations we deem 'appropriate' to sponsor and maintain our heritage, we are, effectively, choosing only to tell the best side of our story. And if we decide that every corporate sponsor of our arts institutions is unsuitable, we will be left with no arts to be able to enjoy. The British Museum does not endeavour to conceal cultures and civilisations in fear of its reputation being tarnished. So why should we expect BP to end its sponsorship of the British Museum just because they have been the perpetrators of a global atrocity too? While BP's sponsorship may be a way to assuage their guilt over the Gulf of Mexico incident, as Art Not Oil suggest, it is without doubt that their sponsorship and support is vital in keeping the British Museum open, and vital in allowing the public to even debate this issue in the first place.

Noma Dumezweni as Hermione

For Potterheads across the world, the announcement of another peek into the Harry Potter universe was widely celebrated when J.K. Rowling announced that in May 2016, a two-part play - Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - will be appearing on stage in London. As a Potterhead myself (A proud Hufflepuff), I was thrilled to hear that my favourite franchise had another addition to it. 

Today, I was even more thrilled as the lead adult cast for the Cursed Child was announced. 'The Cursed Child' features adult versions of the beloved Harry, Ron and Hermione; Harry being played by Paul Thornley, Ron by Jamie Parker and Hermione by Noma Dumezweni. 

Since the casting was announced, there have been many who have voiced criticisms about the casting of Noma Demezweni, on the grounds that she is a woman of colour. J.K. Rowling was speedy in taking to Twitter to defending the casting of Dumezweni, posting "Canon: brown eyes, frizzy hair and very clever. White skin was never specified. Rowling loves black Hermione", along with actor Matthew Lewis, who played Neville Longbottom in the eight-film franchise, who similarly took to Twitter to combat criticism, posting "And Neville Longbottom was blonde. I really don't care. Good luck to her".

As a woman of colour myself, the casting of Dumezweni made me simultaneously overjoyed and saddened. Overjoyed, as when I read Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone at 9-10 years old, seeing the description of Hermione made my heart sing. She had big bushy hair, large front teeth, and was very clever. It was the first time I had ever read a book that had a character that seemed like me. In fact, I was almost certain that Rowling had fashioned Hermione after me. At that age - back before I discovered straighteners and before I had my braces -  I was a studious, inquisitive, often lonely, and occasionally bossy child. As I continued to read the Harry Potter books, the more I read, the more of myself I saw in Hermione. The bullying she faced for being a Muggle, I got for being different too. The way she was told she was too serious, I was told the same. I felt that for once, even though she was just a fictional character, that there was someone like me. So knowing today that Noma Dumezweni was going to play my favourite heroine, I was overjoyed. Don't misunderstand me, I loved Emma Watson as Hermione Granger too, I couldn't have asked for a better portrayal of my favourite character ever. But knowing that Hermione was to be played by a person of colour and hopefully show that being responsible, intelligent and also so caring wasn't limited to - all due respect here - a white person, made me very happy indeed. 

But knowing that Dumezweni will face, and already has faced, backlash over her casting made me so incredibly sad. It shouldn't be that in 2015 a woman of colour is criticised for wanting to play a character in a play, especially one that portrays so many positive - no, exemplary - qualities to the world. Yet it seems that the stereotypes of people of colour in film and literature are so heavily ingrained that we still have so far to go to overcome them. While, in fact, it may be that for many, seeing Watson's portrayal as Hermione in the franchise for so many years and growing to love her, it will be difficult to adjust to not only a new actress, but one of an entirely different heritage.

However, the criticisms on racial grounds alone make me further and further disillusioned with the idea that we will have racial acceptance and tolerance in literature and film in the near future. I hope that society will prove me wrong. All I can possibly say for the meantime is that I know Dumezweni was cast because she clearly wowed her audition panel and that she will be a fantastic Hermione. I hope that she will continue to inspire girls and women in the Black and Minority Ethnic communities that we are allowed to identify with a character if we feel it describes us well, and that we can play anyone that we may choose.