Category Archives: PND

Counselling by Catherine PANDAS

I’m on the train. It’s delayed. The rain falls relentlessly outside coating the windows in wet spidery patterns. I’m listening to a compilation of Klezmer music and feel very pessimistic about this, my first counselling session for eight years.

I’ve been sat on a waiting list with my local IAPT Service for longer than the ‘standard waiting time’ of 6-8 weeks. I took my daughter along with me to my initial session last week, needless to say it wasn’t very productive. I dropped her off with a very good friend this morning in order to attend this session on my own. I don’t really know what to expect from it as counsellors are all so different. From what I saw last week, he seemed like a nice bloke, but I have no idea if he’s capable of scooping the black treacley mess out of my brain and turning it into something I can deal with constructively. We’ll see.
Here I am in reception. There are two people with suits on, they look like salesmen. They made me feel really angry actually, I don’t know why. And there’s another lady in the corner. I’ve kept my headphones in because I don’t like the shite local radio. I’ve been to the loo, the Suits stared at me as I walked past them. I want to know why they’re here, what are they selling? One of them looks over-confident, the other looks nervous. I have half an hour to wait so I’m going to read my book for a little while.
I’m out.

It was good today. It’s mainly driven by myself I think, but he joins in and uses the same language as me, which is oddly comforting. We talked about past betrayals and past relationships. We talked about my current relationship and the problems I have living in Rugby. We talked about how I feel when I feel bad and how I take a lot on, probably to distract myself from my own feelings. We talked about the fact that I never talked about my own experience of postnatal depression with anyone, I never talked it through. We talked about isolation and reaching out, and talking about how I’m feeling. Like how I’m actually feeling, not just generic “sad”, “low”. It was good. I feel like I took something away from it at least.

I know it’s going to be hard, but I think I need to look back at my pregnancy and the first days of Motherhood and try to put them to rest in my head. It’s like they’re there in the background, and can be revived, but I need to soften them a little so that their revival isn’t so destructive to me emotionally.

Session booked in next week. Watch this space.


A Recovery Story – by The Butterfly Mother


“Postnatal Depression recovery stories.” These were the only words I typed into my browser for weeks. My anxiety was incredibly high, I genuinely thought I was losing my mind. Instead of cuddling my son or enjoying his first smiles, I was scouring the internet for undeniable proof that I wouldn’t feel this way forever.  
Despite what my damaged mind was telling me, things did get better. I don’t feel that way anymore. So I’m posting my own story for any other mums who might be searching for answers now. 
My son was born at 1am on 27 Apr 2013 after 12 hours labour, an epidural and finally an emergency section. They had given me so much anesthetic at the last moment I became “blocked,” meaning I couldn’t move or feel anything besides my head and neck. I couldn’t hold my son for several hours, and I couldn’t feel when he was feeding.  
Looking back, things weren’t right from that very first day. I wasn’t feeling anywhere near the post-birth euphoria I had been expecting. But it wasn’t until 8 weeks later the cracks finally began to show. 
My son had just begun sleeping better, only waking for one feed during the night, but while he slept soundly at last I lay wide awake. The less I was able to sleep, the more I panicked during the day. How can I take care of him when I haven’t slept? What if I drop him down the stairs because I’m so exhausted? What if I fall asleep on the sofa and suffocate him? Of course, with these anxieties running around my mind all day I was nowhere near relaxed enough to sleep when night came around, and so the vicious cycle continued. I was lying in bed for around six hours each night, my heart racing and my thoughts spinning, until my body eventually gave in and I slept fitfully for between 1-2 hours before I awoke with a jolt, feeling sick and panicked once more.  
After 6 days of sleeping only an hour or two a night I burst into tears during a group I was attending at my local children’s centre. The staff were incredible, they calmed me as much as possible and called my health visitor. For the next few days she came by to see how I was, she listened to my fears and heard how I still wasn’t sleeping. I took all the usual advice – bath before bed, fresh bedding, read a book etc – but this only made my sleep worse. The pressure to sleep increased my panic and continued the cycle.  
I was then referred to my local Perinatal Emotional Wellbeing Service (PEWS). This is a fantastic NHS service which, sadly, isn’t available in all Trusts. Fortunately for me, Essex has it and that small team of individuals probably saved my life. Or at least kept me out of hospital. 
After they assessed me I was diagnosed with Postnatal Depression. I had been desperately hoping there was another explanation but deep down I knew it wasn’t only insomnia, I wasn’t eating or able to think straight either, all triggered by horrendous anxiety. PEWS liaised with my doctor (who was fairly useless, more on that in a future post) and visited me at home twice a week. Under their guidance, I found the courage to begin taking a combination of medication (a sleeping aid, diazapam for short term anxiety relief and eventually, reluctantly, an antidepressant).  
The medication firstly helped to get my sleep back on track. I was terrified that the sleeping tablets wouldn’t work but 15 mins after taking my first one I succumbed to sleep on the sofa and my husband helped me to bed where I slept solidly for four hours – a vast improvement from how I was. Each night I would fear the tablet wouldn’t work and each night I slept, for an increasing length of time until my sleep patterns were fairly normal again.  
Despite the improvement in sleep and appetite I was still suffering from anxiety attacks almost constantly. I simply couldn’t function properly. Once the drugs took some effect PEWS sent round their Occupational Therapist who specialised in anxiety management. I still think of this amazing woman as an angel sent to save me. She gave me some basic, CBT-based tools for managing fear which, with lots of hard work and practice, began to improve my mood and functionality.
Eventually PEWS were able to discharge me when an appointment with an NHS therapist became available. Again, I was very lucky to see a CBT therapist who had a lot of experience with perinatal mood disorders.  
One of the most difficult things about this illness is the slow recovery time. In my opinion, medication goes a long way to take the edge off and kickstart your recovery but it can only do so much – therapy is a vital tool for long term recovery. Through therapy I was able to begin to reroute lots of damaging negative thought patterns.  
Recovery was definitely an accumulative process for me. Medication and therapy bore the brunt but there were many other aspects of “self-care” which were vital to me; good, regular sleep; a decent diet; fresh air and a walk every day if possible; supplements; support from family and friends; mindfulness; books and websites like Anxiety No More. And, critically, online support.Postpartum Progress and other blogs, and Facebook groups such as PPD Chat Support have been so valuable to me. Knowing you aren’t alone can help tremendously. 
Unfortunately, even with these tools, recovery takes time and patience, which is the biggest challenge of all. I remember being filled with despair when I read how long recovery can take for some people but the important thing to remember is even if full recovery takes months or longer you won’t be in that acute stage the entire time. The real hell was lessened in a matter of weeks for me. After that it becomes manageable, life becomes more bearable. You feel stronger and safer. You might not be thriving but you’re surviving. 
Parenting is hard and I still feel overwhelmed by it sometimes. I still wonder how I’ll cope. But then I remind myself that I’ve come through the last two years so there’s no reason I can’t keep going, keep striving, keep getting stronger. I also remind myself of all the things experiencing PND has taught me. I know how to deal with unhelpful thinking, I worry considerably less, I don’t sweat the small stuff and I have much more empathy for others. In some ways, I’m stronger. I think I’m probably a nicer, less selfish person. I’m not going to ever pretend PND is anything close to a gift, but there are certainly aspects to my personality and my life which have benefited. 
PND isn’t fair. It’s a cruel and terrible illness. But recovery is possible. If you’re reading this and thinking you’ll never get better try to remember that everyone who has ever recovered once thought they never would. And then they did.

To read more from The Butterfly Mother, please have a look at her blog here

Do I Love My Baby? – by The Butterfly Mother

(Original Content taken from The Butterfly Mother blog)


Yesterday we had the paddling pool out for the first time. Caterpillar had a lot of fun and then wanted to come and sit with me where I was watching from the picnic blanket. I wrapped him in a towel and we snuggled down and cuddled, looking at the sky and talking about the sun and clouds, singing songs and tickling each other. Not an unusual sight for a mother and toddler, but a moment perhaps more significant to me than it would be to someone who hasn’t suffered Postnatal Depression.

At one point my son gave me what we call a “hands kiss” (a kiss on the lips while putting his little hands on your cheeks) and I almost wanted to scream with the love I felt. Screaming may seem a little extreme but that’s how it feels to me – whenever I have a wonderful moment with my son – like I’m consumed by joy and relief. Because, for a long time, it was nothing like that.

As a pregnant woman you hear much about the magical and instant bond you will feel with your baby. It’s a given that you will feel a love for them that is beyond any other emotional connection you have ever experienced. The love you feel for your partner or parents will simply pale in comparison. You’re told that yes, parenting is hard work but the love and happiness you get from your baby will make everything worth it.

I couldn’t help but be excited about experiencing this completely new kind of love. I already felt very bonded to my bump and loved the magic of feeling my baby move inside me, I couldn’t wait until the moment I saw him for the first time and felt that lightening bolt strike me.

The reality was a little different.

Caterpillar was born by emergency section when his heartbeat dropped dangerously low after 12 hours of labour. When he was born they had to whip him off to suction mucus out of his throat. I was unable to feel or move any part of my body besides my head. Twenty minutes later I laid eyes on him for the first time. He was a metre or so away, and pretty blurry as I’d had to remove my contact lenses before the surgery, and I couldn’t hold him as I was unable to feel my arms.

He was so cute, wide-eyed with beautiful skin, and undoubtedly mine as he shared so many of my family’s features. I was so relieved to see he was okay after spending the last few hours convinced he was dying. There was relief and familiarity…but no lightening bolt. No overwhelming protective instinct. No “instant bond.” No euphoria. I just felt tired and nauseas.

For the next eight hours I drifted in and out of sleep, vomited several times, and waited for my body to come back to life. I was vaguely aware of Hubs holding a small bundle in his arms next to me. The next morning when I was finally able to hold Caterpillar I sobbed and told the nurse I felt I was seeing him for the first time.

Whilst in hospital I mainly felt anxious and useless. I assumed motherhood would come naturally but it didn’t. My milk didn’t come in and I couldn’t get him to sleep much at all. Aren’t new mums supposed to want to hold their baby constantly, and never want them to leave their sight?  But when the nurses offered to take him for a couple of hours to allow me to rest I felt only relief.

Back home we began to find our groove but my emotions were all over the place. I would cry every night around bedtime as I knew we’d be up every three hours, if we could get him to sleep in the first place. None of this is unusual, this is how life is during the first couple of weeks with any newborn but in addition to the usual sleep deprivation and steep learning curve I was dealing with a terrifying internal struggle: do I love my baby?

That awful, paralysing, guilt-laden thought kept whispering across my brain with increasing frequency until it got so loud it was all I could hear. I don’t think I’m enjoying this. What’s to enjoy? I’m just tired and drained. I thought these were meant to be the happiest days of my life. He’s so adorable, cuddles are nice but is this really my life now, forever? Oh my God, why am I thinking like this? Do I not love him? Is there something wrong with me, I should be happy to take care of him, shouldn’t I?

I cared about him a great deal, I found him beautiful, and I felt duty-bound to protect him – but that was the thing, it felt like duty, not overwhelming, uncontrollable love.

I believe it was these few thoughts about how I felt about my son and my new life as a mother than sparked the anxiety attacks which led to my PND diagnosis. I wish so deeply that I had known then what I know now.

That not everyone feels an instant, overwhelming bond with their baby. That the first few months of your child’s life may not be the best time of your life. That newborns don’t give much back, but they sure take a lot. That just because your bond isn’t instant it doesn’t mean you won’t have an amazing relationship in the future. That different people are suited to different ages and areas of parenting.

I wish I had known that I didn’t have to worry, that I would fall in love with Caterpillar. That as he grew, and as I got my anxiety under control, I would grow to love and enjoy so many things about him. That slowly, eventually, I would begin to feel overwhelmed by that love. That the love you feel for a child is unique but maybe not in the way you imagine; it’s complicated and conflicted and huge, sometimes so big you think you might explode with it.

I wish I had known that one day, two years later, I would lay with him on a blanket in the sunshine and want to scream with how much I loved him.

Project Me by Hannah Tubb

My name is Hannah I suffered from post natal depression/anxiety and PTSD. My children are three and seven. I still suffer from anxiety. Sometimes I control it sometimes I can’t.
Sometimes I see a light at the end of the tunnel, sometimes I don’t.
I’ve had counselling- some has worked, some has not.
Sometimes I accept my life as it is and I’m grateful for what I have – sometimes I feel like I have a neon sign flashing over my head saying ‘crap mum’ ‘crap wife’ crap everything. This happens a lot. I wish it didn’t because I beat myself up for that as well!

Today I woke up with an overwhelming list of projects in my head that I have to complete or get started on.
My daughters birthday party and then a couple of days later her birthday,
A promotion at work and subsequent responsibilities.
A list of tasks that I need to get on top of in my various volunteering roles at PANDAS. And then there’s my ,ten-year-wedding-anniversary -spa-break-must-look-good-in-bikini’ stress!
The counselling course I’m planning for,
the yoga course I’d like to take,
the perfect organised housewife and baking, crafty, happy, stress-free mum I aspire to be.

My husband suggested I strip everything back to the absolute basics – but I want it all – so what are the basics?!
Besides, if I strip everything back won’t I just be failing at all the things I’ve dropped? I feel as though I’d be letting myself down and be seen as flaky – what is this obsession with wanting to be seen as someone who is busy all the time? because I might be busy but I’m spreading my self so thin that I don’t feel like I’m actually succeeding at any one thing!
So, today I’m starting a new project.  Project ME!
I’m going to strip everything back to the basics – my family, me and work (because I have to).
I need to work on my foundations again before I can start building on top of them.
I need to work out what makes ME happy, (and that means ME not what I do because I want to be seen in a certain way by others.)I have lived my life like that for so long I think it will be hard to prize the two apart.
So, that is my first task for project ME – make a list of things I love doing, and make time for those things!
What things would you add to your list?
To be continued . . .

My Husband Has Postnatal Depression – Steve and Ele

(originally published by Poynton PANDAS)

Poynton Blog


I had no idea why I was feeling like I was feeling.  Our daughter was very happy and healthy and my wife embraced her new role as a mother.  I attributed my feelings to a lack of sleep and dealing with the momentous change that happened when our daughter was born.  I had read articles that “love” between a father and his child can take some time to develop so I wasn’t too worried.

I’ve never really felt comfortable around kids.  Growing up my brothers would interact with the baby cousins and I just could never find myself “googooing” and “gagaing” and doing that kind of stuff.  However, I figured when my own child was born I would have no choice and it would come naturally to me.  Anyway, after my daughter was born I did what I could in terms of looking after her so I jumped in with the baths and changing and feeding occasionally.  My wife breastfed so I would do an occasional bottle feed to give my wife a break.

After a few months of doing the dad thing, I found myself not feeling right.  I was very irritable and generally being a bit of an asshole. Evidence of this is in the swear jar that had something like 200 pounds in it after 3 months (1 pound a swear in front of my daughter).  I remember grudgingly doing things that my daughter needed.  I hated feeding her, dressing her, hearing her cry, everything.  It was bad but I attributed it to lack of sleep or something.  After all, I wasn’t aware that paternal postnatal depression was a thing.  As part of my embracing of my new role as a dad, I started following various social media sites to read articles about fatherhood/parenthood and maybe laugh at some of the unfortunate incidents around diaper changes!  Anyway, one of the sites I followed posted a clickbait article that was titled something along the lines of “we need to talk about a condition affecting dads.”  You’ve seen the type of headline so I figured it’d be something about exercise or getting enough sleep.  It was actually about some of the symptoms of paternal postnatal depression and it was like reading a diary of my recent life.  It was very eye opening and it prompted me to do some further research.  Being me, I like to be sure about things before going further with any formal treatment.  While I had my various browser windows open, my wife saw what I was looking at and we talked about what I was looking at.  To be honest, I would have rather it was various “specialist” websites that she caught me looking at instead of one pertaining to mental health.  I felt slightly better after talking about it so I put off my trip to the GP for a while.

After a few weeks from my “self discovery” things hadn’t gotten better so I went to the GP where I was prescribed a course of Citalopram, an antidepressant.  The potential side effects and what not scared the b’jesus out of me so I was hesitant but ultimately decided to go ahead.  I’m so glad I did.  The effects weren’t immediate but after several weeks I was starting to feel like my old self again.  At the height of my depression I would have shuddered at the thought of spending any extended length of time with my daughter but since starting treatment, we’ve had several father/daughter days out.  We recently had a family trip back to the U.S. and I even contemplated just a father/daughter trip there!

I’m very optimistic about the future and I think I’ve kicked this thing.  My antidepressant course is due to end shortly so we’ll see in few months whether I’m in the clear.


My husband has post-natal depression.  It’s easy to say it out loud and talk about it now but when he first told me five months ago that he thought he may need some help, it’s fair to say I was at a complete loss as to what to do or say.

Our beautiful baby girl, Alice, is now nine months old.  My pregnancy was as straightforward as they come, the birth was textbook and so far, touch wood, we’ve not had any problems that every new parent doesn’t experience at some stage.  In short, there were no red flags that one of us may be at risk of post-natal depression. That’s one of the reasons it came as such a shock to me when Steve said he was struggling.  Yes, he had not been himself for a couple of months.  He had been more distant; wasn’t engaging with Alice; he had a shorter fuse with pretty much everyone and everything; and all-in-all he had not been very fun to live with.  The idea that he had post-natal depression though was a real shock to me.

For a start, I had no idea men could have post-natal depression.  It’s no surprise really, given the enormous impact having a baby has on life, but I’ll admit it had never occurred to me.  I wanted to do anything and everything I could to support and help Steve, and I told him so, but had no idea how to do that.  If I am honest though my very first reaction, at least privately, was fear.  What did this mean for us?  Would we would end up separating?  What if he never bonded with Alice?  She was turning into an amazing little person and I was terrified he was missing it.  I have past experience of living with people with depression but this only made me more fearful now.  I know what a long-road it can be and how difficult it is.  I was scared and although rationally I was sure we would be fine, I couldn’t help but think of worst case scenarios.

A lovely lady from Poynton PANDAS had attended our local postnatal class.  I’d not given it a second thought until now but wasn’t sure whether they could or would help me, so I got in touch online.  Their response was immediate and so reassuring.  I went along to their next group, not sure what to expect, and I am so glad that I did.  Just talking to other people who had experienced similar problems helped.  I knew instantly it was a safe place to voice all of the worries I had, even the ones I knew were a little on the ridiculous side, and to answer the many many questions I had.  I left that day with a much better idea of what Steve was going through and how I could support him.

Steve went to talk to our GP, who was really supportive, and he’s now on a course of anti-depressants. It would be wrong to say that things are perfect, but they are much better now that we’ve both found help and support.  Post-natal depression is no longer something that hangs over us like a black cloud and I no longer worry it will define Alice’s early life.


If you need support with maternal or paternal ante- or post-natal illness contact Poynton PANDAS at or via facebook

To find a support group near you check out PANDAS Support Group page

Interview with My PANDAS Volunteer BFFF* Donna Swift

(*Brilliant Fabulous Funny Friend)

Hey you.  Thanks for joining us over here on the PANDAS Guest Blog today!  I know that #volunteersweek is sooo over, but I wanted to ask you a few questions, post-conference, about why you volunteer with PANDAS.  So…

What made you first want to get involved with the PANDAS Foundation?

I volunteer for PANDAS because I suffered acute pre and post natal anxiety and depression. I want to help ladies (and gents) through what was the most challenging and desperate time of my life. I want to tell them there isn’t a feeling they are having that I haven’t felt myself and try my very best to support them until they get the help they deserve and start to see that light at the end of the tunnel. (Blub) Also I want to make sure they know they are not alone and it’s ok not to be ok.

What do you do?  What is your official PANDAS Job Title?

Job title hahaha …. I have many but my official title is online coordinator….. Oh and stuarts PA !

You won an award on Saturday, the PANDAS Champion Online Community Winner, how did that feel?

My award ! I’m thrilled . It’s fantastic to be recognised for the work I do. I am just so so proud.

Can you tell us a little more about the PANDAS Online Community?

We have a new online community which is going to be launched very soon. Its going to be a place where our service users can support each other and chat, Ask questions and seek help. We have a number of volunteers monitoring the community and making sure we also offer help and support.  We will make sure everyone is aware of the launch date as its very exciting. I cant wait to get started.

At the Conference, we talked a bit about the stigma of PND, did/do you ever feel stigmatised for suffering from postnatal mental illness?

At first I was so ill I didn’t think about what people thought. I just needed to feel normal. Once I started to feel a little better I would say. Yes I felt stigmatised. By some of my own family. I was so frightened to speak out. I have since learnt that getting well is priority and speaking out is a massive step in recovery. Talk talk and talk some more!

Tell me one thing you learnt at the PANDAS Conference…

I thought the PANDAS conference was amazing. I learnt so much but I would say what stood out for me was a talk on self harm. I also learned that I volunteer for and with some AMAZING people who work together everyday to help PANDAS to be as amazing as it is and we all help any way we can.

Finally, are the rumours true?  Did you get a Yorkshire Tea tattoo after the Conference??

The Yorkshire Tea tattoo unfortunately just a rumour but never say never…

Thank you Donna!  Now, get back to work…..

Back to work. I’m on it. Two days away and I have so much to do. BUT….l love it and wouldn’t have it any other way

Donna ‘queen of the North’ xxxx

Eat The Caramels and Ditching the Coffee Creams – by Rachael Jones

For those who don’t know I’m Rachael, I’m 26 mum of two gorgeous children, Cofounder and CEO of PANDAS. I’m emotional, I cry a lot… so I will apologise in advance in case I cry… and for anyone who knows me, knows that I do not ever do things by halves.


Today, I want to make things simple and match life to chocolate… where you can choose to eat the good one, the caramels and ditch the rest, the coffee creams.
The greatest gift any one can ever give you, is to believe in you. Just believe you are here for a reason. Don’t give up on everything you dreamt you could be as a child because of who or what you have surrounded yourself with.
Your brain is circuit switch, once you believe you are something, you actually embody it, and you embrace that feeling. If God forbid you were in a coma, and you woke up and you didn’t really have a memory and you were told you used to be a marine and they want you back as soon as you are fit. Do you think you would act differently, hold yourself differently, conduct yourself differently and have a different self-concept of who you are than if you told you were a piano instructor? Would you stand taller, straighter and talk with more confidence?
Being successful in life is all about having the proper belief system in who you are, truly believing that you are something unique, that you are something special. If you truly believe that you are one of the best TV Presenters in the world, you will be entirely different than if you went around thinking I hope I am good. Your expressions will be totally different, your tone of voice, you’ll talk in a more convincing fashion, you’ll use your natural voice instead of a scripted one.
Our brains are like a circuit, if we program it with the correct wiring, we’re going to go straight to our target. Bring unsure about who you are, means your dreams, your goals, they will never become a reality.
Everyone has mental doubts in life, internal conflicts. Even the most successful people you look up too do, but they don’t live there, they don’t stay in that moment. Moving forward is about how you handle those negatives thoughts in that exact moment and overwhelm them with positive action and that comes from having the up most confidence in yourself that you can handle the situation and you need to trust in yourself that you can handle the moment because you can!
There will always be haters, there will always be people who want to break you and tear you down, and how do you stay strong? Someone’s opinion of you does not need to become your reality. Don’t allow anyone to steal your success.

I asked for people to comment on Facebook for the last negative thought that they have had about themselves, the response within one hour was over 50 comments and personal messages…50! Yet as individuals we do not go and speak so viciously towards others, yet we allow us to do it to ourselves on a daily basis. My destructive thought is ‘I AM USELESS AND WORTHLESS”. Whenever things get tough that’s the thought I have. This thought doesn’t help in any way, just tears at any self-confidence I have. I know that it is just destructive!
I have to admit it is only recently I have found inner strength, it took a lot of soul searching over this last year, a lot of change and a trek across the Sahara to realise the only person who can make life happen for me… is me. I made changes, I decided to take that control back which I had lost to live life how I want too.
Some people sit here, knowing full well how close they came to ending their life. I understand that, I’ve been there. To feel so low that everyone you have surrounded yourself with is better off without you and just wanting that constant deep suffocating pain to leave your body and mind. They hardest battle you have faced, you have succeeded, you are alive! You are here!
I am not saying any of this is easy, there will be days when you hate yourself and you look around and wonder how everyone else has life so easy. Just remember not to live in the moment, change you mind-set, the negativity, and start applying positive actions.
If you want to lose weight, buy trainers and run, if you want to trek the Sahara do it, if you want to change your career path, work towards it, if you want more education, then enrol to college of university.
Life is about eating the caramels and ditching the coffee creams. We are the masters of our own destiny.
To end let me remind you…There will always be haters, there will always be people who want to break you and tear you down, and how do you stay strong? Someone’s opinion of you does not need to become your reality. Don’t allow anyone to steal your success.
Remember yesterday is the past, we cannot change that. Tomorrow is a gift, but today is an opportunity.
If you want what you have never had before, if you want to do what you have never done before, if you want to be what you’ve never been before. Change your mentality. Be excited of the fact you have an opportunity of a life time.
The greatest gift any one can ever give you, is to believe in you. So here is my gift to you. I BELIEVE IN YOU