Mustering Enthusiasm

A few weeks ago, I reached the point where I was sick of feeling lethargic and unmotivated. I felt I was achieving nothing and realised I was missing the one thing which keeps me going, even when I’m struggling with my mental health: enthusiasm.

Parachuting

When I’m at my best, I am full of enthusiasm. It drives other attributes which define who I am at my best, including creativity, determination and curiosity. Unfortunately, a lot of those attributes seem to have slipped away this year.

Struggling

I have debated over whether to blog about this, because I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me or see it as a plea for attention. One of the risks of speaking up about your mental health problems, especially if you have borderline personality disorder, is getting stuck in a Catch 22 situation: you need to be honest and open about your experiences in order to help people understand, yet being open and honest exposes you to accusations of attention seeking and manipulation.

Part of me feels it’s “wrong” to discuss the negative aspects of my illnesses because I’m coping better than many other people. I’m coping better than I did in the past. However, “coping better” still involves numerous days of feeling suicidal. My self-harming and panic attacks have both increased this year. Often, it doesn’t feel like I’m coping at all.

There are a few obvious reasons for this decline in my mental health. I’m dealing with chronic pain from gallstones and sometimes it feels as if this alone has stolen huge chunks of my life. It stops me from fully enjoying fun activities and spending time with friends. I’m also reluctant to book tickets for events I would like to attend, because if my gallstones are playing up it will be a nightmare or if I have a bad episode, I would have to cancel anyway and lose money. In addition, gallstones symptoms interrupt my exercise routine, which is my main mental health management strategy. Missing a couple of workouts might not sound like a big deal to most people, but it’s akin to skipping antidepressants several days in a row – not advisable and potentially dangerous. My mental health gets worse when I’m less active, which means it’s harder to either get back to exercising or use other healthy coping strategies.

The surge in some of my symptoms is partly due to challenging myself in ways to which I’m not accustomed (understatement!). I completed an 8 month temporary job for a local youth mental health organisation which involved situations I find very difficult due to anxiety. While I’m proud to have stuck at it, there were many times when I thought they had made a mistake in hiring me and I felt I wasn’t good enough. I had hoped it would be a confidence-building challenge which could encourage me to seek more opportunities, but it led to a lot of self-doubt instead.

Finally, my Open University degree is going well, but while I’m pleased with my module results for the 2018/19 academic year, I wish I had been less stressed and more able to enjoy the process. Which is why, as my next modules are about to start, I want to recapture my enthusiasm.

Searching for motivation

Once I identified enthusiasm as something which would be beneficial, I turned to Google and typed “How to be more enthusiastic.” The search resulted in a lot of websites which churned out the same advice (this one is good but typical). As with a lot of wellbeing and self-improvement advice, some of it was very obvious but difficult to actually implement, especially if you have mental health problems. I know it’s important to sleep and eat well, for example, but depression and anxiety messes with both my sleeping and eating patterns.

However, one of the obvious options is exercise and I realised the importance of increasing my physical activity before my mood plummets further and makes it all but impossible. Exercise also helps me sleep better. Goal 1 of Project Enthusiasm was born: move more.

Moving more is easy in theory, but harder in practice. I was already sticking to my gym classes and walking the dogs at least 2 miles a day, but this isn’t enough to improve my mental health beyond the basic “get out of bed but zone out in from of the TV most of the day” level. To get the full benefits of exercise, I need to run at least 2/3 times a week. Running works for me in a way which other types of exercise simply don’t – I can slip into a kind of mindful meditation once I get into the rhythm of a run and focus on nothing but my current experience. Being free from the constant negative self-talk is a relief in itself, but then the serotonin increases after 15 minutes or so and I notice a shift in my mood.

So I have gotten back to running over the past couple of weeks and it’s working. No miracles have been wrought, but I’m a little less depressed and a little more motivated. Some of the runs have been very hard, but I force myself to start and each time I want to stop, I tell myself to try and run for 1 more minute. Often, this is every minute of the run. I have run slower than planned some sessions, but I have hit my mileage targets and these small achievements give me some confidence.

Note: I would never run through pain. When I tell myself to push through, it’s pushing through discomfort and while some of this discomfort is physical, it’s mostly mental. It’s a cliché to say people rarely regret a run (or different workout), but it’s true for me: I gain a sense of achievement from sticking to my plan and as someone who spent 20 years not being able to run far, I get a kick out of knowing I can keep going for a certain distance.

Reconnecting

The other strategy for mustering enthusiasm which resonated with me is to explore whatever you find interesting. To cultivate a sense of curiosity. For me, studying psychology and writing fiction are important, yet I have been feeling disconnected from both of them. Finishing last year’s psychology modules was so stressful that I lost touch with my love of learning the subject; completing the assignments was a bigger priority than exploring topics. Writing got pushed aside as my health problems ate up bigger chunks of my time, although perhaps I’m also experiencing a lingering disappointment or grief over my last novel attempt not working out as I had hoped.

Reading is the most accessible inroad (for me) to reconnecting with both fiction and psychology, so I made it more of a priority. I cut down on watching TV and forced myself to pick up a book, despite my mental health affecting my concentration. As with exercising, I felt a sense of “use it or lose it” because while I love reading and learning, I was unable to read when my mental illness was at its worst. I feel guilty for saying this, since I’m a writer, but when you’re depressed and anxious, it’s far easier to switch on the TV or play games than to read – even while you are able to do so. However, once I started reading more (in both frequency of reading sessions and duration), it became easier to concentrate.

I chose to focus on reading because I didn’t want to pressure myself to write a certain number of words, but I’m easing back into writing mote. Again, nothing miraculous has occurred and I haven’t completed a novel in two weeks, but I’m a little more productive. Immersing myself in stories has brought some inspiration.

Similarly, getting a head start on my OU module materials has reminded me of why I decided to do a Psychology BSc. The subject is fascinating and I want to apply my knowledge to my own life, as well as (hopefully) using it to help others in the future. My career plans are still fuzzy, but I would like to improve people’s understanding of mental health and empower people who have mental health problems to achieve their own goals. I guess I’m reconnecting with my sense of purpose.

Progress

I’m two and a half weeks into Project Enthusiasm and I say this tentatively, but…there have been definite improvements. While I will probably never be the type of person who bounces out of bed excited to see what the day brings, I’m trying to act in more enthusiastic ways. For the most part, this means forcing myself to start a run or a book chapter – once I get going, momentum (or stubbornness!) usually gets me through. My mood isn’t fantastic, but I feel less wretched and excited to get stuck into the new academic year. I even found the motivation to blog!

I’m also trying to emphasise the positive aspects of my life, because it hasn’t been all doom and gloom this year. The best change is the fact that I’m typing this while sitting on my new bed, in my new, bigger bedroom – one of many advantages caused by my brother moving out! I feel very lucky to be studying psychology and despite the ridiculous bloating (thanks to my gallstones), I’m maintaining a weight which is the closest I’ve been to a healthy BMI for many years. Sure, I wish things were better, but at least I feel like I’m heading in the right direction.

Taking Control

I’m currently recovering from a terrible episode of gallstones pain — well, it was a few of my worst episodes strung together over a few days and the first really bad episodes I have had since February, so a shock to the system. To clarify what I mean by “bad”, it involves me writhing on the floor in agony. The day after the last bad episode, my pain was still intense enough that I couldn’t bear to move unless it was absolutely essential. However, the most frustrating part of the experience was that it’s my own fault.

Sunrise

Okay, I didn’t ask to have gallstones and it’s not my fault that the current NHS waiting lists are ridiculous, thanks to the government penalising consultants for working overtime, so I haven’t had my gallbladder out. Maybe I wouldn’t have developed gallstones if I had stayed a healthy weight all my life, but overeating was how I dealt with my mental illnesses and one of the few coping strategies which was accessible to me during the years when I was scared of leaving the house alone. However, my recent painful episode could have been avoided if I had paid more attention to what was happening.

Since mid-May, I have relaxed my diet. I still want to lose another 20-30lbs, but a few other things took priority and stress took over during the final 2 months of my temporary job. I wasn’t eating a huge amount, but I was eating crap: more refined sugar and processed foods, fewer vegetables. I should have listened to my body as my gallstones became “noisier” but I pushed on, focusing on work and eating junk to deal with the stress (old habits die hard). 

Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago and I realised that not only was I experiencing the worst episodes of gallstones pain I’ve had in a while, but my mood had plummeted. I needed to take control of my health.

I also had a minor epiphany: when my gallstones pain and mental health were better than they had been in ages, in March and April, I had been following a diet which limited processed foods and cut out sugar. I was also eating a lot less wheat. Feeling desperate, I decided to go back to basics and cut out junk food, processed food, wheat and refined sugar as much as I could. The worst that could happen, I figured, was that it would make no difference to the pain and I would get better nutrition.

Thankfully, my change of diet was very effective. Within 4 days, I felt well enough to return to kettlebells class (taking it easy). Within a week, I was no longer taking painkillers. After 10 days, I no longer needed to constantly use heat pads and lavender oil to reduce the pain. In addition, my mood improved — which could be due to the psychological effects of feeling a little more in control, as well as the change in nutrition. Nothing miraculous has happened, but I’m back to baseline gallstone pain levels and my depression has eased enough for me to feel a little more human.

In addition to diet, I think my experience was impacted by other factors. When my temporary job ended in July and I found out I had passed my Open University modules, there was an easing of pressure. I was no longer pushing myself to keep going through pain, stress, anxiety and depression at any cost. I could stop. But when I stopped, I felt drained — especially emotionally. I’m pleased to have completed my work project and OU modules, but neither went according to plan and I’m disappointed that I wasn’t able to maximise my opportunities or enjoy them a little more. Now I could stop, I had to process all of these emotions.

Needing a lot of recovery time is something I have learnt to accept in theory, but it’s frustrating. It typically takes me a few days to recuperate from a day out, which most people find relaxing in itself, so I suppose I should have expected a period of lethargy when the challenges of studying and working drew to a close. Trouble is, I want to keep going! I feel as if I have wasted most of my life because mental illness has had such disabling effects over the years, so I think I should push on as much as possible when I feel able to do more. Perhaps the gallstones pain was a blessing, because it has reminded me to put my health (physical and mental) first and foremost.

So what does taking control mean for me?

Prioritising self-care is essential. I’m sticking with my dietary changes, since I feel so much better in such a short time, and I want to improve my fitness. Yesterday, I had a run on the treadmill for the first time in 3/4 weeks and realised how much I have missed its mood-boosting effects, so I want to work on running farther at my new, faster pace (I have been working on speed this year, after focusing on distance for last year’s half marathon). Taking the time to practice yoga and meditation is also a habit I want to establish over the summer.

The other side of self-care is about putting myself in a better position to achieve my goals. I’m not entirely sure what that will involve, because the first step is to reflect on my progress and decide what’s important to me right now. A summer reset, if you like, before I start my next OU modules in October. 

Paradoxically, a huge part of taking control is accepting that I can’t control everything. As the mental health literature reiterates, you can’t control what happens to you — but you can control your response. I had hoped this year would propel me towards a better future, but instead of feeling confident about building on my knowledge, skills and experiences, I feel beaten up. I hope that taking plenty of time to rest and work on my health over the next month will help me feel stronger.

Whatever happens, I will try to remind myself I am making progress — even when it feels so slow that it might not count. I spent too long living life on pause when my mental health was at its worst, so I’m not going to let the gallstones do the same.

Some of Your Pain is Your Fault

You know you are not to blame for your mental health problems. Mental illness is not caused by bad karma or bad decisions. However, some of the pain caused by your mental health issues is your fault. You were/are complicit in your own pain. And you have to learn to forgive yourself.

Here are some things you might have done to cause yourself pain:

  • Avoided getting help for your mental health problems.
  • Pretended you were fine, when you were suffering.
  • Ignored phone calls and messages from friends because you were too scared or sad or numb or angry or jealous or ashamed or whatever to face them.
  • Overeaten in attempts to block out your emotions.
  • Starved yourself in attempts to block out your emotions or achieve perfection.
  • Neglected your studies because it was easier to procrastinate than face the possibility that you could do your best and still fail to live up to your (or someone else’s) expectations.
  • Walked away from jobs because you didn’t have the strength to fight your corner.
  • Slept with people you regret sleeping with.
  • Shut yourself off from relationships or even the opportunity to date people.
  • Cut yourself because it gave you temporary relief.
  • Stayed at home when you might have enjoyed going out.
  • Used drugs or alcohol in attempts to make yourself feel better.
  • Lashed out at someone you love because you were angry or in pain.

You can probably think of dozens of your own examples. The indelible fact is that you have caused some of your pain.

Another fact is that you deserve to be forgiven. You must forgive yourself. By not forgiving yourself, you are prolonging your pain. Forgiving yourself allows you to move on. It helps you to avoid pain in the future. It teaches you that you don’t have to accept the pain that you cause yourself. Some pain in life is inevitable – we get ill, we lose jobs, loved ones die – but you can choose to avoid causing yourself pain.

You will not be 100% successful. You will slip up and cause yourself pain on some occasions. When that happens, you need to forgive yourself again and move on. It’s hard to face up to your own complicity in your pain, but it’s something you must do in order to get past the pain.

Depending on your personal situation, you may need professional help in order to do this; avoiding getting help is one of the most common ways those of us with mental health problems cause ourselves pain. Reach out to anyone you can – your doctor, a therapist, a friend, a family member, a charity, a helpline. Just reach out. Read back through the bullet points and observe how all of the ways we cause ourselves pain are the opposite of reaching out. They are about avoiding genuine connections with our emotions and with other people. The antidote to pain is connection.

WTF Does Resurfacing and Rewriting Mean?

Resurfacing and Rewriting? What do those verbs have in common? They define the processes of recovering from mental illness: striving to get out of the depths of despair and reassessing your life. Reconnecting with the world and reclaiming your story. Because your life is a story and you can change it; you can create a new story.

Stories are not set in stone. They are retold and adapted. They are expanded and edited. Years of mental illness (anxiety, depression and borderline personality disorder) convinced me that my story was a tragedy. I thought I would die before I turned 30 and I believed that I would never achieve anything. Guess what? I turned 31 last month and I have done many things that I thought were impossible for me – learning to drive, earning a degree, getting a short story published.

I don’t want to over-simplify my continuing recovery. It has taken me years of medication and talking therapies to get to the point where I can help myself. However, a major part of the recovery process is learning about the power of the stories you tell about yourself. You can’t change your past, but you can edit it. You can choose to pay more attention to some parts of your story than others. You can pick the main characters, who will have the most influence on your future. You have to decide what you want your story to be – and then start to create your story.

Hence Resurfacing and Rewriting. I want this blog to inspire and encourage you to own your story. To show you that you are not alone; that recovery from mental illness is neither linear nor logical, but it can be fun and fulfilling. I want to help break down the stigma which still surrounds mental health issues and rewrite the story, telling everyone that people with mental illnesses are valuable and should be valued. Most of all, I want to prove that recovery is possible. I have no idea if I will succeed and I’m terrified, but I want my story to be about a woman who overcomes mental illness and learns to be happy. And who kicks some arse along the way!