I've been on the waiting list for counselling for just over six months and last week received the letter I'd been waiting for... a space had become available and I'd been allocated my first session! At the moment I'm in a position where I'm available any time because I had to hand in my resignation, but I'm not sure what would have had to happen if I had been working!

I turned up slightly early and sat in the waiting room nervously. I was very aware of the smell, which was a combination of must and damp (my session was booked in a community centre so the building is used for lots of different activities) and I was greeted by my counsellor with a friendly smile and a very soft voice. I followed her down the corridor to a small room with a kitchenette and two chairs facing each other, spaced a few feet apart. 

Before starting anything, she asked how I was feeling at that moment. I said I was a little nervous, but better now that I was actually there, and she reassured me and put me at ease instantly. I'd never met or seen my counsellor before, but her body language, friendliness and soft, comforting voice made me feel so relaxed, like I could tell her anything.

To begin, she told me that anything I told her would remain confidential, unless I told her anything which may put myself or someone else at harm, in which case she would have a duty of care to pass the information on! She also told me that the session would last 50 minutes, and each week I would have to fill out a quick form with a few questions asking me to indicate, on a scale of 1-9, how my mood, actions and emotional state has been over the last 2 weeks. This was fairly quick and after scanning it quickly she asked me to tell her a bit about myself. 

I rattled on for ages about myself and I could feel myself jumping from topic to topic in the same way that my tangled up, spaghetti brain is functioning. Somehow though, just getting it all out in the open felt a lot better. I was honest and open and annoyingly the time went so quickly. Before I knew it, the session was over! My counsellor told me that now she had an understanding of my backstory, next time the session would focus on one area of my life and we could try to break it down together and help relieve any anxieties.

On the whole I feel that counselling will be a positive experience for me, although I feel it would have had a much greater impact six months ago when I was first referred by my GP. I can't imagine how many other people are on the waiting list, and how many people aren't getting the help they really need. The irony is, although it's fantastic that more awareness is being directed towards mental health, and more people are visiting their GPs and being referred for help, there just aren't enough counsellors! You visit the GP when you need help at that moment in time, so having to wait like I did, can be even more stressful and make you quite despondent. 

A few weeks ago I was sent a sample of the Glamglow face mask with my Birchbox subscription. I'd never heard of the brand and to be quite honest I didn't really think about it, I just put it in my makeup bag for later. Recently though, I've been a bit obsessed with my skin and in particular, using mud masks, so I scavenged through my boxes and bags trying to find a decent mask I could use and Glamglow came to light.

The mask is quite thick and a dark grey colour. I applied it with my fingers rather than a brush as I was in a rush, so admittedly it's not the neatest effort I've made and it's a little thicker in some areas than others.

Now, you'll have to excuse the photos, they're not exactly flattering - we all have our off-days!

While the mask was setting (is that the right word?) on my face, I noticed the strange 'dotty' patterns being formed on my nose. That was when I realised that this mask had a lot more to it than the cheap 99p sachets I've impulse-bought while standing in the queues at the tills! I googled Glamglow afterwards and realised their products draw impurities out of the skin and remove blackheads - hence the 'dotty' patterns. 

To be honest, when I took the photos above I didn't actually intend on writing a blog post about the mask, so I haven't got a before and after shot, but it made SUCH a difference to my skin. It was so smooth and a lot clearer and had a bit more of a 'glow' to it than usual. 

The Glamglow masks are a little bit out of my budget to be honest (a small travel-sized tub is £16 and a regular sized tub is £42, however the regular sized tub also comes with a brush) so as much as I would LOVE to buy one I think I may have to wait for a little while, however I am SO impressed with this mask and I would highly recommend it. There are several different versions of the mask which claim to have different properties and suit different needs, such as the hydrating, firming and illuminating masks, amongst others. Check out their website for full details, but you can also buy the brand at LookFantastic.com and Boots.

This is NOT a sponsored post and I was not paid or gifted in exchange for this review. All opinions are my own.

I bet there are thousands of teachers around the world who absolutely love their job and would disagree with me, but I'm sure for those of you who watch or read the news, you'll know that a LOT of teacher's are leaving the profession due to stress or burnout. According to the National Education Union, studies showed that 81% of teachers have considered leaving the career this year, and 40% are working at least 21 additional hours at home during the evenings and weekends.

I decided to start my 3-year teaching degree back in 2009. A lot of my friends did a 1-year PGCE but since I didn't have a degree already, I opted for a teaching degree. Nowadays bursaries are offered to students in order to encourage them to train to teach, and that is solely down to the UKs lack of teachers.

I think deep down I knew the job wasn't right for me in my third year of training, but I thought once I got a permanent teaching job it would be different as I would have more control, rather than just 'covering' other people's classes, and the kids would see me as having more authority. When the time finally came though, my lack of confidence got the better of me and I didn't apply for many jobs. In the end I took a job as a technician in the classroom. I think this was the highlight of my time in schools. As much as I hate taking orders from people - and trust me, some teachers can be SO rude to support staff! - I had so much flexibility and I was able to manage my own workload, providing the deadlines were met. I could go to the toilet when I wanted, I could eat a snack if my stomach was grumbling, I could hide away in my office if I was having a bad day... Looking back,it was the perfect role for me. But at the time there was always that nagging doubt, what if? What if I had got a teaching job? I'd have more money for sure, and more respect. I would watch supply teachers just sit at the desk, completely oblivious while the class behaved like animals, and I would think to myself, I could do a better job. 

When a job opportunity arose I was invited to interview by the Headmaster and I got the job. It was very different to my training! Like swimming without armbands for the first time, or riding without stabilisers. For once there was no-one watching me, so if I felt like deviating from my lesson it didn't matter, as I wasn't being judged - but at the same time I would still have to cover the topics at some point so there was very little room for flexibility! For the first few weeks I found enjoyment. 

But then things changed very rapidly. My timetable was pretty busy and when I wasn't teaching I had scheduled 'PPA' time, which is when teachers have time to plan or do marking without being interrupted. This time soon disappeared though that it was almost pointless as I had barely achieved anything. So I would end up working through break, lunch and after school.

Let me break it down. Each week we were expected to set at least 1 half-hour piece of homework per week. I had 16 classes of at least 22 pupils. Each pupil should get a grade, a comment and a target, plus any spelling or grammatical mistakes must be highlighted, which depending on the length of the homework can take anywhere from 10 mins per pupil to half and hour per pupil. Now I'm not a maths teacher, but even I can tell you that there physically isn't the time to do that amount of marking! To add more pressure, book checks would be carried out at random times. This means that the head of department would come into the classroom and randomly look through a pupils book to see how well I'd been marking. 

That alone was stressful, but that's only the tip of the iceberg. Behaviour had to be logged, detentions had to be set and followed through (and when they didn't turn up, they would need to be chased down!), lessons and resources had to be planned, meetings had to take place, emails had to be replied to, parents had to be phoned, homework had to be uploaded to the VLE... The list goes on. Honestly it was non-stop and you wouldn't believe how lonely it was. You can see hundreds of kids a day and still feel completely alone.

I had several meetings with my Headmaster asking for help and support, and it's probably also worth me pointing out that the school were very aware of the fact that I'd been diagnosed as having anxiety and panic attacks since I was 17. Nothing helped though.

Behaviour was terrible. I confiscated all sorts of items, I was spoken to like dirt (I've been called the worst word you can imagine, yes, that one!) school equipment and furniture was vandalised and I've had a chisel turned on me. I followed the correct procedures for each and every one of the incidents but nothing changed. You may also be thinking that, if I was in control of the class, or if they had enough work to do it wouldn't happen. Well let me tell you that I planned each and every lesson thoroughly. I had additional resources prepared for those particular pupils and on occasions I shouted until I was red in the face and I lost my voice, but you can only lead a horse to water...

One day I came home from work and I froze. I came to a complete halt and I broke down. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't move. I did what every daughter does in a moment of worry; I phoned my mum! 

When you tell someone you hate your job so much you want to quit, they always give you the 'it'll be ok' talk. You know the one I mean, the 'it happens to everyone' spiel. It didn't help. The next morning I didn't feel any better. I knew I couldn't go to work but the time was ticking on, so I had no choice but to phone the school and call in sick. As soon as I heard the woman's voice though, I burst into tears. I can't explain it and I was SO humiliated. I couldn't get my words out, but eventually she encouraged me to see my GP. When I spoke to my GP I told him everything. I told him how tired I am all the time, how my appetite had changed, how I lacked motivation, how I felt useless and vulnerable and he signed me off with depression and anxiety, and recommended me for counselling. Eventually my anxiety got sobbed that I found I couldn't go back. That was it!

It took a long time for me to convince people just how much the job has affected me. I've had countless comments from people saying 'you need to try a different school' or 'you should consider primary', but NO! ....NO, NO, NO!! I am DONE! I am completely done with teaching and I need a job that I'm happy in. A nice little 9-5 job where once the day is over, I can close the door and switch off to work. I haven't found it yet, for the moment I'm living off my savings, but my mental wellbeing is simply not worth the stress.