Hi there! My name’s Sarah, otherwise known as ‘Sazzle’ by most people who know me; no idea why.
I live in Cheshire,UK and currently work for a distribution company, where I’ve moved up from originally working in the warehouse to working in the office and after 11 years, finally, taking control of the company’s Social Media pages. Which is great; challenging when you’re also part of a busy customer care team, but feeling blessed to have the job, to say the least.
Boring! Yes, I agree… Next subject: Childhood. Okay, well… I wouldn’t even know where to begin with this subject. I guess a big part of my life was moving to the USA when i was 6 years old, with my mum (born in Florida), dad (born in North Wales; I know,slight contrast there), and my little sister (born in Chester, UK, like me).
In a nutshell: Times were hard. Things got harder when my parents seperated. Then divorced and then my mum moved out. I was 9 at the time. Watching your mother drive away teary eyed, and not knowing when you’ll see her again, it’s pretty tough, especially at that age. Then, there was the trying to be as well behaved as possible for your Dad who is going through all kinds of emotions: angry, sad, fed-up… you name it.
In result of all this, my sister and I grew really close, as I was her counceller and acting mother; for a long time. I can safely say that I was quite the protective older sister, as well.
One day, I came home to find my sister was gone! She went with my mum. Somehow; I don’t know what happened. Why not me too? Not that I would want my dad on his own. I would have stayed even if I was invited. I didn’t know what to do, really. I felt so alone, and abandoned; numb, is also a good word. My dad was there, but he was going through his own tribulations.
So…… Lonnnnnnnnnng story short, my sister come back about 6 months later. I was happy inside, really, but so mad as well. I was quite mean to her at dinner that night. It was because I felt jealous; I know that now. It’s difficult to understand things when you’re a kid,though.
Anyway, years went by, many events passed and suddenly I’m 15 years old. In the summer I rememeber being told we’re moving back to Britain. We had to give away all our stuff and, of course, say our good-byes to friends. Yeah, great! That’s what every teenager wants, right? To leave their mates, and have to start in a new school in a new COUNTRY and meet new friends! (She says sarcastically).
“Hello American bird!” In a over exaggerated American accent, Is what I was greeted with in the earlier days of living back in the UK. “Say walk the dog!” How ’bout, shut the funk up and go away? Were my thoughts. I got stuck more and more and more in my little shell everyday. I didn’t want to get up or do anything. I hated my accent, my clothes (totally different style. They didn’t wear Jnco jeans in the UK? who knew), and I hated myself. Not knowing what to do and utter confusion and pain was my usual activity. Yay!
Okay, so lots of years passed, and, oh-my-days, so much more drama, and experiences,(maybe, I’ll save it for a book… ??). Fast forward to present day… zzzzzzzzzzip! And, I’m 33 years of age. Still living in the UK, my sister moved back to Florida with her two kids (now has three, and they’re so amazing), I have been on vacation there three times now, my mum re-married and had a lovely son, and my dad has a happy little Jack Russell, named Marley.
To the point: I have been really depressed and hard on myself through the years. I made mistakes, went out and drank a lot and eventually lost all faith in myself and my abilities. I was referred by my doctor to have councelling and was prescribed antidepressants. I did neither, and chose to try to help myself with books, and motivational speakers.I’m not saying this would be enough for everyone, but worth a try. It’s easier to slide downhill than it is to try to climb up it; but when you do manage to climb your way up the dreaded hill, I guarantee the view will be much nicer at the top.
I’ll be honest, I still have the odd drink after work and procrastinate a little, but I’m only human and I’m definitely on the right path. My main accomplishment was acknowledging the fact there was a problem and being willing to try to resolve it. The next step is action. Writing and singing are my most favourite things to do, ever. So, I started my own blog. This one. I also feel that I could help, in some way, other people that have or are dealing with anxiety or depression that may have been caused by trauma. I am hopeful that my blog will give others hope, or maybe a little inspiration.