Story
I suddenly lost my dad a few years back. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not about to claim that I was mentally kosher before this happened, but what was to follow took me completely by surprise.
Depression: 10/10. Anxiety:10/10 – that much would be obvious right?! But what no one tells you, and what is largely unspoken of, is the impact this event was going to have on my physical health.
This isn’t a dig at the NHS: I’ve seen an army of specialists in the last 10 years, giving me reassurance that I wasn’t going mad and someone to talk to as they tried to get to the bottom of all my ‘issues’.
But no one connects the dots.
Off work, taking anti-depressants, I got pretty fat, pretty fast, in one of the darkest times of my life.
After a while, the weight shifted but I battled random bouts of anaphylaxis and was carrying an epi pen. My immune system was struggling. My platelets were low. I’d have bleeds under my skin. My menstrual cycle was in chaos. And then, I lost my hair.
When I reflect on loosing David, my heart hurts as if I lost him yesterday. But by far, one of the hardest things I’ve subsequently been through was the loss of my hair. Here I was, finishing uni, dating this new guy (who I was fairly certain was my new soulmate) – and I had shiny bald patches on my head that I couldn’t hide. Some people laughed; some people pretended not to see.
Without Alopecia UK, I honestly don’t know where I would be, as having access to other people’s stories and the content on their website, was one of the only things helping me rationalise what I was going through and supporting me to navigate life with this new condition.
You’ll also be pleased to hear that the guy I was dating would still invite me over, massage steroid cream into my bald patches and be stuck by my side years later – Tim ❤️
I’m telling you all this because we need to talk about it more. We need to recognise how interlinked mental and physical wellbeing are and we need to better support those in crisis. Years since losing my dad, I’ve only recently started out on my journey to healing. I’m so cross that I’ve spent years harming myself further, self-destructing, pushing people away and crucially, lacking the knowledge I needed to heal. But of course, I am still incredibly proud of where I’m at today and so SO grateful for all the support I’ve had over the years from those unfortunate enough to call me family or friend.
So long story short, I’m cycling the London to Brighton bike ride on the 19th September.
And the best part is, I’ll be doing it alongside my uncle, my dads brother, and very much riding together in his memory through the town he/we lived in – even though we know he’d think we were ‘fucking mad’. (my dads words not mine…😉)
Have I been training? No.
Am I ready? Hell no.
But am I a hella strong woman who is going to give it all she’s got? YEAH I AM! The ditchling beacon climb will not defeat me; even if I have to walk it.
So whilst you are here, if you fancy donating to alopecia UK, great. But no pressure. In all honestly, this ride is about me. It’s about my strength and my journey so the pure fact you’ve taken the time to read my story is enough for me.
Thank you, and wish us luck!
Aimee
🌞
P.S Remember: You're never alone and I’ll always have an ear if you ever need it.