The Long Game

I spend a lot of my time thinking about goals, which are both a key strategy in managing my mental health and a source of frustration, anxiety, disappointment and other feelings which contribute to my mental health problems. On balance, working towards my goals (and achieving some of them) has a positive influence on my life. They give me a sense of purpose and fulfilment. However, this year has been a little strange, because one of my goals is becoming very visible to other people: I want to lose a lot of weight and have lost almost 5 stone.

Hayley running
Here is a photo taken on my brother’s crappy phone — I provide it as evidence!

Announcing my goals is something I find very awkward, even when it’s necessary. For example, fundraising for charity was an integral part of my trek to Machu Picchu last year and telling people about my goal put a lot of pressure on me. On the other hand, being open also enabled people to give me a lot of support and encouragement, which helped me achieve my goal.

Odd as it sounds, one of the few advantages of severe mental illness is that nobody has any expectations of/for you. During my worst points, I felt my life was such a huge disappointment and burden to people that I couldn’t disappoint them any more than I was already disappointing them. Having a shower or cooking a meal was a massive achievement; I had no other goals.

So having goals is a positive sign. I am trying to live a better life and working towards my goals indicates that I have some degree of hope (if not confidence) of achieving them. However, there is a shadow side: I’m terrified of disappointment and every failure along the way is a reminder that I have let down my family, friends and myself.

But people don’t always see the failures.

People complimenting me on my weight loss is great, especially since I can’t see the difference as clearly myself, but it has made me think a lot about how my experiences differ from what people see. It has also made me realise there are parallels with other goals and aspects of my life, which are less obvious because I can’t measure them in the same way that I can track my weight and clothes size.

My weight loss has become more visible over the past few months, so people see I’m now a size 14 instead of 18. They didn’t notice the first few months of this year, when I started eating less/more healthily but couldn’t see the results. People don’t see the weeks when I lose no weight, despite following my eating and exercise plan. They don’t see me getting frustrated and discouraged because the effort doesn’t seem to be paying off.

Likewise, people view my mental health from the outside. They only see me on my good days, because I can’t leave home on my bad days. My anxiety may seem much better, particularly as I get used to specific situations (gym classes, writing group), yet I still get panic attacks. I’m still too scared to drive or into a shop alone. There are days when I spend hours worrying about everything from whether my dog seems a little “down” to if I will ever repay my debt or move out of my parents’ house.

The outside only shows part of the picture. Yes, I have lost weight and my mental health is generally better nowadays, but neither has been as straightforward as it seems. My progress hasn’t been linear — and my mental health can be very erratic — but it looks linear to other people, who don’t see the effort, frustration and frequent disappointments.

The changes started a long time ago and it has been a rocky road.

While I consciously choose to work towards my goals at particular times, my ability to do so is often rooted in changes I made long before setting them. At my highest weight, during the final year of my BA in 2010-11, I was a size 26 and have no idea what I weighed except it was definitely over 20 stone. Yet I had already begun to make the mental changes which are helping me to lose weight this year: when I decided to go to university, I decided I was worth the effort. I was worth the expense. I was worth the risk of failure, embarrassment and disappointment.

At 18, when I had a place at another university in a different subject, I made a different decision. My self-esteem was nonexistent and I didn’t think I was worth the cost. I wasn’t worth the hard work.

I went through a lot of pain and despair before I started to build a little self-esteem. I took antidepressants and had counselling. I tried to help myself, but I failed a lot of the time.

Along the way, I tried to cheat my way to self-esteem by losing weight, going from a size 18 to a 12 in a few months. (Sidenote: sacrificing muscle tissue for a lower number on the scale is a stupid thing to do and takes ages to repair). I half starved myself, binged because I was hungry and then punished myself by eating even less. Over and over. I thought I would like myself if I could fit into a size 12, but I was wrong.

Eventually, I got sick of my life. I was 23 and my mental health had improved a little, but I hated everything about my life apart from my dog. One of my best friends was working in Spain at this time and had invited me to stay with her for a low cost holiday. I hadn’t been away since a family holiday when I was 17 and I love sunshine, so I was tempted. I had enough money for flights, food and spending. I was running out of excuses — except the usual one of having crippling anxiety. But I was sick of that excuse, too. I booked my flights and knew I would have to go through with it, even if I failed.

Looking back, I think that was the start of believing I was worth anything. I was sick of staying inside the house and missed my friend, but I also wanted to be the type of person who could travel somewhere. Someone who wouldn’t be fazed by going on a plane alone (and for the first time, to boot!).

That holiday changed my life because I realised I could do more than I anticipated. I could travel by plane without having a panic attack. I could wander around Valencia alone. I could even speak a few phrases of Spanish, including “I miss my dog!” I loved the holiday and it was well worth the costs. It opened up the possibility that I could do more. By the time I got home, I had decided I would try to get a place at university the next year.

I hedged my bets a little, going to my local university to minimise expenses and ensure I had some support at home, but I was trying to achieve something I had once thought was impossible. I believed I had missed my chance of going to university, but I was proving myself wrong.

My graduation was one of the happiest days of my life. So many people point to photos of themselves at their highest weight and say how miserable they felt, but I was happier than I had ever been. I was still struggling a lot and my weight is an indication of that, because I have always had a tendency to comfort eat, but I had finally gotten a degree. I was disappointed to have missed out on a First after my grades dropped in the final year, thanks to the stress of being diagnosed with borderline personality disorder and an eye condition which can lead to blindness in a single month, but a 2:1 was better than no degree. Besides, I already had a place on the Creative Writing MA course and was focusing on the next goal!

I became concerned about my physical health, which had taken a backseat for a long time. My fitness was atrocious and my habit of buying crisps and chocolate bars at the university shop had to stop now I didn’t have a student loan to finance the habit. I was too scared to walk outside alone, so I bought a treadmill (which is how I know I was over 20 stone, because I had to take weight limits into account when choosing one) and started walking. By the end of summer, I had dropped to a size 22.

I can pinpoint my current attitude to that summer: I started focusing on fitness and weight loss as a path to better health. The journey since then has been up and down, but although my weight has fluctuated a little, I haven’t gained a dress size since that time. I was finally making lifestyle changes — and for the right reasons.

I know I have come a long way, but it doesn’t always feel like it.

Part of the reason why I set myself a lot of goals is because so much of my life seems to stagnate; working towards goals reminds me that I’m making progress. I think this is especially important because monitoring my mental health is difficult.

Many aspects of mental health are intangible and while some symptoms improve, others regress. For instance, my anxiety and depression are generally much better than in my final two years at university, yet I drove 50 mile round trips to lectures four times a week and the most I have driven this year is a few 7 mile trips with my mum beside me. Having goals stops me from fixating on what I can’t do, switching the focus to what I can and might be able to do.

I achieved one of my key goals for this year at the weekend: I ran a half marathon. It has been a useful goal because, in addition to improving my fitness, running teaches me a lot about life. My main goal was to complete the half marathon, which meant I had to learn to pace myself. However, I also wanted to finish within 3 hours if I could, which meant pushing myself. It was difficult to balance these approaches during the race, but my mum and I made it in 2:59:51. Yep, a whole nine seconds to spare!

Knowing when to pace myself and when to push myself is one of the most challenging aspects of any goal. Part of the challenge is to appreciate how far I have come while focusing on where I want to be. It’s difficult not to get frustrated about how far away the end goal is, especially when working on something which will take months or years ro achieve. I find myself comparing my experiences to other people’s achievements — which is a fallacy, because as I pointed out at the start of this marathon post (pun intended), the outside doesn’t reflect the true experience.

Playing the long game, you have two choices: keep going or give up.

As with running long distances, working towards long term goals involves a lot of different factors. You need to develop a strategy and assess your energy levels to know when to push and when to pace yourself. You need to train and learn from your mistakes.

Gradually, you learn what works best for you and realise there is no point comparing yourself to other people. No matter how fast the other runners are, the only person you are really competing with is yourself. I suspect this is true even for elite athletes, who want to break their personal bests as well as beating the competition, but it’s especially true for those of us who just want to do our best and finish the race.

An advantage of playing the long game is that there’s always another race, another chance to make strides towards your goal. You might not manage it in the same way or time frame as you planned, but every experience teaches you something which will help you (eventually) achieve your goal.

The alternative is to quit, which guarantees you will never achieve what you want.

Achieving my goals is never pretty or easy. I often feel the universe is testing me or taking the piss — especially when my glasses broke 40 minutes before the start of the half marathon, meaning I had to run half blind — yet these additional challenges are what make my experiences unique.

I know I can run 13.1 miles without being able to see anything more than colourful blurriness and the three feet of ground in front of me. I can complete a four day trek while contending with altitude sickness, multiple panic attacks and a throat infection. On a more mundane level, I can write and study around the symptoms of my mental health issues. I can force myself to do a gym class straight after having a panic attack. I can make healthy choices most of the time, even if part of me still wants to munch crisps and chocolate.

I don’t always feel like carrying on, but I keep going because it’s the only way I have a chance of getting what I want. Challenging myself is the only way of discovering my capabilities. The long game is a massive commitment, but the potential rewards outweigh the sacrifices.

Creating Meaning

One of the most challenging aspects of my mental health struggles has been overcoming my belief that my life was meaningless and therefore had no value. It became a self-perpetuating cycle: mental illness made me believe my life had no meaning and prevented me from doing anything which would give it meaning, which became evidence that my life was destined to be meaningless. I never realised I had the ability to create meaning in my life as it was, even during the worst times.

Apple blossom and sky

Choose your own path.

The first realisation was an obvious one: people create meaningful lives in different ways. Sometimes they focus on one aspect, such as having children or a specific career path. Many people create meaning “on the side” through art or charity work. There is no standard method of creating meaning, although there are many well-trodden paths.

Think about what you want — if I could grant all your wishes right now, what would your life look like? Choose what works for you: the values you prioritise, activities you enjoy, the goals you most want to achieve.

Creating meaning is about the process, not results, so don’t worry about whether you will be able to accomplish everything. Be open to changing direction as you learn more about yourself. At this stage, you are just beginning to explore how you find and create meaning.

 

 Create a meaningful narrative.

Storytelling is a fantastic way of creating meaning and making sense of your life. What narrative do you want to tell? What do you want to rewrite or edit? You get to decide. You can’t change your past, but you can choose the stories you tell about it.

Forming a clear narrative from the chaos of life is empowering. You can use your story to guide your decisions and create meaning. For example, I decided the story I want to tell is about using my suffering to connect with others through my writing, whether blogging or fiction. Along the way, I want to support, encourage and inspire other people who have mental health issues.

Think about the stories other people tell about their own lives, especially those who have overcome adversity and create positive outcomes. Do any of them resonate with you? Again, don’t stress about whether you can live up to the ending you want. Your story will change many times, even if the core narrative remains the same, often in amazing and unforeseen ways.

 

The mosaic approach.

If you are struggling to find a narrative thread, try thinking of your life as a mosaic: you can create meaning from discrete activities and relationships, without needing to tie it all together. For instance, you may enjoy running and create meaning by occasionally fundraising when you participate in longer races. Maybe you volunteer for your church and find meaning in helping meet others’ spiritual needs (as well as your own). Perhaps you are an infrequent traveller and find meaning in exploring new cultures when you are able to get away. You could do all of these or a combination of different things.

There doesn’t need to be a single, overarching meaning across all aspects of your life. Yes, some people seem to have it, but you don’t need to. In fact, there might already be a predominant meaning which you haven’t yet identified, or perhaps never will. Your life isn’t a business proposal: you don’t need to reduce it to an elevator pitch.

 

Make it personal.

Creating meaning is extremely individual. You don’t need to do anything “Important” or “Selfless”. If you don’t follow your own values and preferences, you will find it very difficult to create a life which is meaningful to you. Copying other people won’t work.

You don’t need to save the world to live a meaningful life. You can create meaning in small, precious ways: crafting a beautiful piece of furniture, growing roses, reading to your child.

 

Mine your past and present.

Where can you already find meaning in your life? Everyone can find meaning, so “nowhere” is not a valid answer. Do you create stuff? Cook for your family? Blog? Study? Spend time with people you love? Look after a pet? Read? Walk outside? You can find meaning in all of these activities.

Check your definition of “meaning” — remember, you don’t need to save the world — and think about how other people and yourself benefit from what you do/have done. Small acts of kindness, chatting with someone, hobbies you enjoy… these have a positive impact in themselves, but can also cause a ripple effect.

Simple tasks can have meaningful outcomes which emerge much later. For example, I started spending a lot of time watching films during the worst phases of depression (well, second worst — I did nothing during the very worst points), which reignited my love of film and eventually led to a Film Studies BA. Going to university helped my confidence a lot and I would be living a very different (worse) life without it. I stayed on to study for a Creative Writing MA and continue to pursue a career in writing fiction. I didn’t know any of this when I first started watching more films and 12 years later, I think I’m only beginning to recognise its impact.

Mining your life for meaning can be slow and you may have to chip away for ages before you find a vein of gold, but it’s invaluable. Time spent searching for meaning and experimenting with ways of creating meaning is never wasted.

 

Consider alternative perspectives.

Ask other people about what gives their life meaning. What makes them smile? What makes their lives a little easier? You might be surprised by their answers.

How can you look at your life in different ways? For example, if you work in a supermarket and don’t find the work interesting or enjoyable (I’ve been there!), there are several perspectives which demonstrate how it can be meaningful. Perhaps the money you earn supports your family or allows you to pursue your goals. You might be the only person some people talk to all week, therefore your work helps them feel less lonely. You are developing customer service skills which will serve you well in a future job or starting your own business. The hours might enable you to spend more time with your children or pets. Maybe you take pride in doing the best job you can, for its own sake, which increases your confidence and self-esteem.

There are advantages to most situations, even if they are outweighed by the negative aspects, and they can be used to create meaning. Experiencing mental health problems is horrible and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, but I have learnt many lessons from the pain and challenges. I would never go as far as to say mental illness has made my life better, but it has led to positive outcomes.

Creating meaning is an ongoing process.

Life is ever-changing, so our ways of interpreting it need to continually adapt. We may discover something which we thought would be meaningful turns out not to be. Often, we can be surprised by where we find meaning. Sometimes meaning emerges only with hindsight. As I said, creating meaning is more about the process than results.

Keep experimenting. Ask other people how they create meaning. Google it. Read for inspiration — start with Man’s Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl, which is impossible to recommend highly enough. Don’t judge yourself for finding meaning in stuff which other people deem superficial or unimportant. Avoid pressuring yourself to find all the answers straightaway. Don’t compare your path to other people’s, especially if their values differ from yours.

Start small. You are already doing many meaningful things every day, even if it’s just getting through the day. 

Getting The Message

I had a strange experience last week. Back in January/February, I booked an Arvon course called Editing Fiction. My plan was to use the opportunity to finish my novel and start submitting it to agents. The course was last week and it was amazing — I learnt a lot and felt inspired. However, by the end of the week, I had decided to abandon my novel.

Notebook

To say I hadn’t expected this outcome would be an understatement. One of my 2018 goals was to get The Novel up to a decent standard, making it the best I could. I was persuaded to read the opening chapter to my writing group and got encouraging feedback. I had redrafted it 4 times since I wrote the first draft 3/4 years ago. I was sure that working on this novel was what I should be doing.

And that was the problem. I was no longer enthusiastic about The Novel. Had fallen out of love with it.

The realisation came during a tutorial with one of my favourite writers. I went in babbling about not knowing whether I should be prioritising The Novel and feeling like an utter idiot. Luckily, the tutor is an excellent teacher and reader of humans: she saw something I hadn’t yet realised. She recounted her experience of writing a novel and losing it when her laptop was stolen. After the initial shock, she was relieved.

She asked me how I would feel if the same happened to me. My answer? Free.

Permission

The Novel isn’t right for me. Not at the moment, anyway. As the course tutor pointed out, if it had been right for me to keep working on it, I would have been offended and defensive when she suggested I quit. Instead, I was delighted to receive permission to stop.

I have thought a lot about permission in relation to writing. Like many other writers, I struggle with confidence and the paradox of assuming my work isn’t good enough and being arrogant enough to want people to read my stories. However, I had never considered seeking permission not to write — to abandon something in which I have invested a lot of time, effort and even (thanks to an online course on plot) money.

I don’t think twice about casting aside short stories that aren’t working for me, but The Novel felt different. I have never written a novel which is good enough to publish; perhaps I thought I had to prove myself. A lot of the writing advice I came across said to keep going, to finish projects, so I felt obliged to continue. To keep redrafting, even when I was no longer motivated.

Quitting feeds into a lot of my fears and negative beliefs: that I’m a failure, lazy, simply not good enough. Yet what is the point of pursuing a goal which I no longer want to achieve?

Lessons

The tutor reassured me that I hadn’t wasted my time on The Novel. It’s  an experience which has improved my writing and will help me to clarify my goals as a writer. I have learnt a lot through writing it, from the fact that spending 3/4 years on a project probably means I’m not lazy, to the Writers HQ course which developed my plotting skills. I’m not upset about giving up on it; I’m happier, lighter.

Although it’s early days, I believe that I will learn a lot from putting The Novel aside. It has made me wonder what else I’m clinging to in my life.

Signposts

The strangest part of this experience has been finding evidence that I knew — unconsciously — I should abandon The Novel before it was pointed out to me. In my lists of current goals, I have not prioritised The Novel. I was reluctant to show the other course tutor, an editor, my synopsis because I thought it was crap, which I now translate as knowing I didn’t believe in it, since it would have been sensible to ask her how to make the synopsis less crap. In my tutorial with the editor, she asked me questions about The Novel which I hadn’t considered. Why hadn’t I considered them? Because I didn’t care.

Other people on my course talked about their projects with enthusiasm, but I didn’t enjoy talking about The Novel. I was too ashamed to show it to the writer I admire — instead of my first chapter, I submitted a short story which I actually quite like.

With hindsight, it is clear I shouldn’t be working on The Novel. Yet I ignored the signs for months.

Again, it makes me wonder what else I’m overlooking. I am trying to trust my intuition, but I get swayed by what I “should” be doing. I “should” finish The Novel. I “should” focus on The Novel because its premise is commercial. I “should” be better at promoting myself and my work.

When I act on my intuition, the outcome is usually good. I can’t think of a time when I have regretted following my intuition; just loads of times I wish I had, but didn’t.

Doing

Forget what I “should” do. That’s the main lesson I took from the Arvon course. I can’t waste time and energy trying to be a different kind of writer, a different kind of person.

I’m not sure why I fight against my intuition so much — or why I fail to see the signs which point me towards what I really want. I think I’m getting better at recognising what I need to do, but this experience has taught me that I’m far more likely to listen to people I admire than to myself. It’s something I need to change.

Another issue which was mentioned in my tutorial is confidence. The self-doubt will never go away, says the writer whose books I buy as soon as I can (in print, no less). And it can be a good thing, because the best writers are those who are continually trying to improve, not the ones who believe their work is perfect.

Again, this is something I kind of knew, but it was reassuring to hear from one of my favourite writers. If I wait to feel confident before doing anything, especially writing/submitting stories, it won’t happen. I need to take action despite lacking confidence, to make it a habit.

When I take action towards goals which are important to me, I feel energised. Even if I was exhausted and demotivated before doing anything. I stopped feeling energised by The Novel long ago. I just needed someone else to give me the message.

Patience

I haven’t posted for a while because I have been going through a bad patch. The trouble with mental health problems is they can convince you that nothing you do will have an effect. There’s no point in writing a blog post, you think, because it will be crap, nobody will read it and it won’t help anyone. So you convince yourself it’s best not to do anything, which is easy since you don’t feel like doing anything. Nothing changes, of course, because you’re not taking action. You just feel worse and worse.

Rose

It’s frustrating when I feel this way, because downward spirals are hard to escape. I tell myself  I’m waiting until I feel better before I work towards my goals, but not working towards my goals usually makes me feel worse.

I’m finding things particularly difficult right now, because even when I have been working towards a goal on a regular basis, my progress seems very slow. Losing weight, for instance, is once of my priorities for this year. I have a lot to lose, so I hoped the first half would drop off quickly. It didn’t, but that was okay when I was losing weight at a steady pace. Then it stopped. For no apparent reason. I don’t think I’m a particularly stupid person, so I knew that plateaus are to be expected and I would lose more weight if I stuck to my plan, but it’s hard not to have an emotional reaction. While I knew I should lose weight again, because I was sticking to my diet and exercise plan, part of me was screaming “you are failing, you are useless, you are hopeless.”

My plateau didn’t last for very long (about a month), but I realised it reflected my attitude towards many of my goals. I find it difficult to keep going when I don’t see results.

I recently read a book called Drive by Daniel H Pink, which highlights the importance of intrinsic motivation. I nodded along, recognising that focusing on external rewards is not conducive to motivation, but I also admit that I put too much emphasis on recognition. I feel insecure sometimes and need a gold star to boost my confidence. It feels pathetic to admit this, but tangible results keep me motivated and when they are absent, or not good enough (in my own opinion), I find it hard to stay the course. I start doubting myself.

I’m currently waiting for the final result of my first Psychology BSc module (I’m studying part time with the Open University) and it’s torture. My first 3 assignments got 95 apiece, so I would have to mess up in epic style to fail the module on the fourth assignment, which seems unlikely. But, again, while I realise this on a logical level, the part of me which is entangled with my mental health issues keeps shouting about how I’m stupid and must be an idiot to expect anything good to come of studying.

However, I was forced to take action in spite of these negative thoughts. I needed to enrol on my modules for the next academic year and apply for my student loan. I had to ignore the voice telling me I was jinxing myself, because the alternative would be to wait another year before continuing my studies. If I do that each year I complete a module, I would take 10 years to complete the degree, instead of the anticipated 5 years. Obviously, that would be ridiculous, so I did what I needed to do.

Taking action is almost always an act of faith. You have to trust that your actions will make a difference.

Keeping faith is especially difficult when you are working towards a big goal. I do my best to split big goals into smaller ones, acknowledging and celebrating small successes, but some goals are so big that you have to wait ages (so it seems) for even tiny signs of progress. The answer isn’t easy, but it’s essential: you need to focus on the process, not results.

Focusing on the process requires faith and patience. It’s about building the habits which will determine long term success. In short, it’s a long, hard slog.

I was googling “how to stay motivated during weight loss” earlier today and was reminded of something I already knew: motivation follows action. If you wait to feel motivated before taking action, you could be waiting forever. Time is always passing, whether you take action or not. What will you regret not doing 6 months, a year or several years from today?

So that’s why I’m forcing myself to keep going. It’s hard to make short term sacrifices without getting results, but my future self will thank me. I would rather turn down cake today than get diabetes in a few years. I would rather get stuck into studying this year than regret not seizing my opportunity 10 years down the line. I want to create healthy habits which will lead to my ideal life, or at least a better life than the one I’m living.

There’s a comment which writers often hear that has become a bit of a joke: “I would like to write a novel” — or its variant “I wish I had time to write a novel” — often accompanied by a wistful expression. The implication is that writing a novel is something people only do if they are privileged enough to have time and few other concerns, but this simply isn’t true. Thousands of novels have been written in segments of time snatched from busy days. If writing a novel (or doing anything else) is a priority for you, you can find a way to achieve it. The difference between people who say “I want to write a novel” but never do it and people who write novels is not a lack of time.

We all have 24 hours a day, 7 days a week and you can choose how it’s spent. It always passes, whatever you do.

Remembering this is, for me, a work in progress. I waste a lot of time; mental illness wastes a lot of time. But when I am well enough to take action, I try to force myself to take action. Waiting for results is frustrating, but waiting for motivation is a massive waste of time.

I will keep slogging, trying to achieve my goals, because not doing anything guarantees failure. It won’t be easy and I doubt I will ever learn to become patient all the time, but it’s necessary if I want to improve my life. Right now, it’s challenging. Maybe next week, month or year I will feel more motivated and gain more results. Either way, I plan to keep going.

I just hope Future Hayley will be grateful!

Leaping Forward

A year ago today, I started a 4 day trek to Machu Picchu. It was the biggest and most difficult challenge I have voluntarily undertaken, but also one of the best. While it didn’t immediately transform my life, as I had hoped, it has changed me in ways I’m just beginning to realise. The greatest effect is cutting through my excuses. I completed a major life goal, despite struggling with my mental health. Why shouldn’t I achieve more goals?

Parachuting
Photo credit: my dad, Darryl Jones.

In this spirit. I set myself a lot of goals this year. Some are boring and mundane (adding to savings, submitting more short stories), but a few are more exciting. One of them was to complete a tandem skydive from 15,000 feet.

As you can probably guess from the photo, I did the skydive yesterday — which happened to be my birthday. 

Last year, I spent my birthday doing an acclimatisation trek in Peru and being serenaded in a restaurant with the world’s longest version of Happy Birthday. I was surrounded by a wonderful group of people who have become my friends, but I was thousands of miles from home and had woken up very early, sobbing because I was scared I was making a huge mistake. I was worried I wasn’t capable of achieving any of my dreams, including walking miles up very high mountains.

My birthday this year was very different: I was at home and spent the day with my parents. However, I also wanted it to be as memorable as last year, so I scheduled the skydive and hoped for good weather.

Although the skydive was on a much smaller scale than Machu Picchu, it involved a lot of preparation. My first task was to get under the 210lb weight limit (the website says you can jump if you are heavier, but you have to tell them in advance and pay a surplus, so I wanted to avoid that), which was a big commitment since I started the year at 244lbs. I weighed in at 201.5lb yesterday morning and a few pounds heavier in my clothes and trainers when I got to the airfield, which was a relief!

I also needed to have my doctor sign a medical form to state that I was allowed to jump, because I have received treatment for mental health problems within the past 2 years and have a history of self-harm. I had an appointment a couple of weeks ago and my GP declared that I was at no extra risk compared to any fit, healthy person.

I understand the reasons for needing my GP to sign the form, but it feels disempowering to be told that I can’t sign my own medical form. I know my own mind very well precisely because I have mental health issues. Managing my mental health effectively involves monitoring my mood and motivation for doing certain activities. Far from being a form of self-harm or method to boost fragile self-esteem, the skydive was my way of celebrating my achievements and rewarding myself for getting through the almost constant struggles.

Because I still struggle. Every small achievement, from walking the dog on my own to completing an assignment, involves facing my anxiety, depression and BPD and managing my current symptoms. 

My symptoms are less apparent to other people nowadays; partly because they have lessened in intensity, but mostly because I am much better at managing them. I was anxious yesterday, for example, but didn’t appear more nervous than anyone about to be hurled out of a plane for the first time. I was focusing on controlling my breathing and being mindful, rather than listening to my worries and letting them escalate — though, truth be told, my anxiety disorder is concentrated on the possibility of humiliation rather than harm or death, so I was more worried about doing the wrong thing or puking!

Tandem skydive
Photo credit: my instructor at Skydive Buzz

In addition to being a celebration and reward, skydiving was also a reminder that I need to take chances in order to experience fun and excitement. I need to leap forward, despite being anxious and having other obstacles in my way. I may never “recover” from my mental health problems, but I can manage them alongside achieving goals and chasing my dreams.

I think the main difference between my life now and the episodes during which I was trapped by my mental illness, is that my fears have shifted. I am more afraid of not trying to achieve my goals than the potential for humiliation. I’m more scared of spending the rest of my life confined to the house than chasing my dreams. I’m still fearful of failure and rejection, but my greatest fear is living without trying to create a better life for myself.

Which is another change: I believe I’m worth the effort.

I used to hate myself and thought I deserved nothing, but that has gradually changed over the past 10 years and the change has accelerated since I trekked to Machu Picchu. It started with asking for help when I needed it and investing in myself, going to university after thinking I had “missed out” on the opportunity. Then I realised I could contribute to the world, through volunteering and using my skills to help local charities/organisations. Most of all, I gave myself permission to dream again, to consider the possibility of a different life.

Along the way, I have met more people who believe in me. I have had small successes which confirm that I’m worthy of support and investment, contribute a lot and can achieve things I once considered impossible for me. 

Sure, my life looks very different to how I expected and what I would have chosen, but you work with what you’ve got. I still struggle, but the truly awesome days I enjoy make the weeks and months of struggles less important than the triumphs. When I look back on my Machu Picchu trek, I don’t dwell on the panic attacks, throat infection, rain and altitude sickness: I remember arriving at the Sun Gate with my fellow trekkers, achieving our goal.

Making Yourself Happy

My favourite mug (pictured) tells me to “do more of what makes you happy.” I bought it because I thought it would serve as a positive daily reminder, but the more I think about the phrase, the more I believe it’s a good philosophy for life.

Lilac mug

Doing more of what makes me happy fits with a couple of simple concepts I keep coming across:

1. Self-love and compassion get you further than self-reproach and punishment.

2. It’s up to you to make yourself happy — nobody else.

Society tries to tell us otherwise. We are told that the only way to achieve goals is to embark upon a gruelling regime, denying ourselves all pleasure until we attain whatever we want. We are expected to believe that the perfect partner will magically solve all our problems and make us happy. Yet what society tells us doesn’t work very often — and when it does, it involves making things more difficult and less fun than they need to be.

 

Treating yourself with love and respect

Self-punishment is counterproductive. It’s a lesson I have learnt many, many times over the years, but it’s a hard habit to break. Admonishing myself for failing to do something is the best way to ensure I continue to procrastinate.

We tend to assume that when we don’t live up to our own expectations, the answer is to get tougher: demand we work harder, faster and longer. Sometimes it works and we complete tasks we have been putting off, but this progress comes at a cost to our mental (and often physical) health. Worse, we start believing that this type of intense work under the threat of punishment is the only way we can achieve anything.

The true antidote to procrastination, anxiety, depression and most other problems is self-care . All of the bad things in my life are not the result of a lack of self-discipline, although they may appear so, but the consequences of self-punishment.

Even when other people have abused and bullied me, I piled on the punishment by believing it must be my fault. I must somehow deserve to be treated badly. Instead of seeking support, I alternated between harming myself — physically and psychologically — and seeking comfort in unhealthy habits which caused me more harm in the long term, including overeating and getting into debt through impulsive spending.

This kind of behaviour creates a vicious cycle. You berate yourself all the more because you have created new problems, such as debt and obesity. Other people also see these problems as a reason to insult and criticise you, pointing out that you and your life are a mess. You punish yourself more, which makes the problems worse.

It’s vital to realise there is another option — one which empowers you to solve your problems. To love, respect and support yourself.

I resisted this for a long time. When we say people “love themselves” it’s usually meant as a criticism — we think they are arrogant, conceited and/or selfish. Yet these traits actually indicate insecurity, not self-love. People either hide behind a mask of arrogance or build their sense of self-esteem upon a shaky foundation, like their looks or career. They don’t love themselves — they love the idea of themselves they want to project.

You can tell when people truly love themselves because they have a quiet confidence. They have no desire to show off or to belittle other people. They know they are not perfect — and that’s okay. While their self-esteem doesn’t depend upon their work or social life, they enjoy success in these areas because loving, respecting and supporting themselves is key to achieving their goals.

I’m learning to treat myself this way; it’s a work in progress and I still get bad days when I succumb to the old self-punishment routine, but I have made small changes. I think I’m more productive and I certainly feel better most days.

 

Stop waiting for a panacea

It’s easy to fall into the trap of believing a single thing can be the solution to all of your problems. Meeting your soulmate, winning the lottery, losing weight, a lucky break… If only you could have this single thing, everything else would fall into place. But life doesn’t work like that. Even if you woke up tomorrow with all of the things I have mentioned, plus a bunch more, you will still have problems.

I’m not saying that those things wouldn’t help to some degree: lacking emotional support and money is tough. Being overweight and unemployed exacerbates problems. Problems also tend to proliferate,  especially if you have mental health issues. But if you focus on your problems, solving the major ones won’t help as much as changing your mindset.

Choosing not to focus on your problems is incredibly hard, but it’s possible.

Again, I’m a novice in changing my attitude, but I have already noticed positive effects. When you focus on your problems, it creates a tunnel vision which blinds you to potential solutions. It also blinds you to the good things in your life, so you believe your life is 100% negative. Because you are focused on your problems, they often get worse as you remain passive instead of taking action towards finding solutions.

Debt is a vivid example of how problems can spiral out of control when you don’t take action. If you continue the behaviour which caused the debt, your debt will get bigger. If you struggle to pay the minimum payments, your debt will get bigger as you aren’t covering the interest. If you do nothing at all, you incur penalties and your debt not only gets bigger, but can lead to legal proceedings.

Many of us have struggled with debt and a common reaction is to ignore it — except you can’t really ignore it, so you worry incessantly as you continue to overspend and struggle to afford minimum payments. You avoid taking the most basic steps towards tackling your debt, such as seeing what help and support is available (I recommend www.moneysavingexpert.com, which has loads of advice and supportive forums you can use anonymously). You are convinced you cannot solve the problem, so you don’t even try to create a plan.

This is a typical reaction to a lot of problems, from relationship issues to changing careers. We hope for a panacea to arrive as we watch our problems get worse. Perhaps you buy a few lottery tickets and then feel dismayed when you don’t win the jackpot, which is a way of fooling yourself that you’re taking action when you’re not doing anything productive. Waiting achieves nothing and makes us feel powerless.

You have to make yourself happy. 

Check your reaction to the above statement. Did you scoff? Did you accept the truth of it, but feel sad because you don’t think you can make yourself happy? Were you angry, because you were hoping for a different solution?

For most of my adult life, I would have reacted to that statement with anger, frustration, sadness and disappointment. I didn’t believe I could make myself happy. If anything could make me happy, I expected it to be money. Or perhaps an intensive therapy programme which would cost a lot of money.

If my beliefs were true, there would be no unhappy people earning more than £20,000 a year. Everyone lucky enough to own their own home would be happy. People with zero debt would be deliriously happy. Yet that’s not true.

You can do the same for all of these so-called solutions, because I’m yet to find one which can’t be disproved. There are plenty of people in relationships who are unhappy, even when they and their partner love each other and want to stay together for life. People with incredible bodies can be unhappy. Ditto those who have their dream jobs, travel regularly and are gorgeous.

First and foremost, you have to change your mindset. The good news is  changing your thought patterns is free and accessible to all. The bad news? It’s bloody hard and easy to give up, returning to your old beliefs that a million pounds and film star partner are the only solutions to your problems.

 

Choose to see the amazing aspects

Yes, changing your mindset is difficult, but it’s also amazingly wonderful. Anyone can learn ro do it, for a start. You don’t need to spend any money (though a few books can keep you motivated) and you can start right now. There are loads of strategies for changing your mindset, including simply listing the things you are grateful to have in your life. Do some googling and see what speaks to you (after you finish reading this, obviously!).

I suspect some people would prefer a different solution. If I had told you that the key to solving your problems, or at least learning to live with them, is a magic gemstone you can only buy in the Himalayas at sunrise on the third full moon of the year and it costs half a million pounds, you would have lots of excuses for not doing anything. “I don’t have the money, I can’t get the time off work, I’m afraid of flying, I don’t know the language…” You could do nothing and feel justified.

The only excuse for not trying to change your mindset is the difficulty factor. But refusing to change your mindset is more difficult in the long term.

All of the improvements I have made in my life have been difficult. The first time I forced myself to go outside alone, after years of anxiety preventing me from doing so, I was extremely uncomfortable. I wanted to turn around and run back inside. So why didn’t I? Because I knew that staying inside for the rest of my life would be more difficult than forcing myself to go outside for the first time.

You face the same decision. Changing your mindset is hard, but not as hard as continuing to struggle.

 

Doing more of what makes you happy will change your mindset

You may resist this concept, too. You may believe it advocates a life of mindless hedonism, indulging in unhealthy habits which harm you and people around you. Except those things don’t make anyone truly happy.

Happiness is not a quick buzz from drugs, alcohol or junk food. It’s a long term effect of living a satisfying, meaningful life. 

The things which make you happy are meaningful experiences: spending time with loved ones, reconnecting with your passions, contributing to your community, working towards personal goals. You can regonise them by the afterglow they produce. For example, playing video games keeps me entertained for a while, but serves mostly as a distraction. In contrast, reading gives me pleasure while I’m doing it and afterwards, when I think about what I have read. A meal with friends makes you happier than scoffing junk food alone, even if you eat the same amount.

You may be surprised by what makes you happy — and what doesn’t. Tackling challenges makes me happy, even if I don’t appreciate it at the time. Exercise makes me happy, because it has strong neurochemical and psychological effects. Baking makes me happier than eating what I bake. Watching my favourite television programmes keeps me happy for an hour or two, but the effect wears off if I watch for longer.

I’m adopting this philosophy in the spirit of experimentation. So far, my mood has improved and I think I’m less anxious. I hope it will help me to be more productive and to find creative solutions to my problems in the long term. If nothing else, it has reminded me that my old regime of self-punishment resulted in mental illness and other problems. Self-care isn’t a luxury: it’s a necessity.

Try doing more of what makes you happy — and let me know what happens!

My 29 Gifts Challenge

In January, I came across a book called 29 Gifts by Cami Walker. It’s part memoir and part self-help book. At the beginning, Walker is bedbound by MS, in debt and has a strained relationship with her husband, who has become her carer. A renewed acquaintance, Mbali, makes a strange suggestion: she should give something away every day, for 29 days in a row.

Wrapped Gift

What I love about this book is that Cami Walker reacts in the same way most of us would in her situation – she thinks the idea is ridiculous, especially considering she can barely walk and has no money. She has no intention of carrying out her prescription. In fact, she is about to go into hospital and convinced she couldn’t start the challenge even if she wanted to. Being told it’s time to stop thinking about herself adds insult to injury.

Yet… She begins. She gives away her first gift and the rest follow.

The upshot is, Walker changes her life through completing the challenge. It changes her mindset and opens her to opportunities she hadn’t considered. The change isn’t miraculous in the definitive sense – she still has MS and debt – yet her attitude brings many positive things into her life, which help to counterbalance the negative and give it a different flavour.

After reading the book, I thought “that sounds like something I would like to do” but I wasn’t sure if I would follow through. After all, we all have a million excuses for not attempting such a challenge: lack of money, other things to focus on, it might be a waste of time, etc. But it lodged in my mind and stayed there.

My 29 Days challenge started by accident: I paid for a half marathon entry for my mum and myself, then I wondered whether I could count it as the first of my 29 gifts. I decided to approach the challenge as more of an experiment, to see what happened. I would make a conscious effort to give gifts for the following 28 days, without expectation or even hope that it would produce anything other than a warm, fuzzy feeling.

 

How to start the challenge…

The book sets out many suggestions for how to tackle your own 29 Gifts challenge. I didn’t remember to repeat the recommended affirmations every day and although I wrote about my challenge in my journal, I didn’t write a dedicated journal focused on the gifts and my thoughts/feelings surrounding them. I’m sure it’s helpful to do everything the book suggests, but it’s not necessary.

More importantly, the book points out that gifts don’t need to be monetary. You can give people your time, make gifts for them, do them a service or give them something you already possess. This is the crux of the challenge: everyone can give something.

You can also choose to give a gift to yourself. It may seem contrary to the nature of the challenge, but few of us consciously give to ourselves. Instead, we deny ourselves and then “treat” ourselves by overeating, overspending or engaging in other destructive behaviours – which gives us brief pleasure but leaves us feeling worse.

 

My 29 Gifts.

My own gifts tended to be about making time to connect with people. I made more effort to send my friends text messages, instead of convincing myself they wouldn’t be interested and would consider replying to be a chore. I shared things more, including sweets and blog posts. I also tried to be more thoughtful and helped around the house more than usual.

I had fun sponsoring a few friends, too. I gave small amounts and wished I could afford more, but their appreciation was reassurance enough that a few pounds can make a difference. It reminded me of how encouraging it felt when someone donated money for my Machu Picchu trek – no matter how much I doubted myself and my ability to complete the challenge, I felt supported and motivated.

 

So, did my life change?

Yes and no. My mindset has certainly changed. I had a terrible episode of depression before Christmas and started the year feeling more depressed and anxious than I had been for months. I was stressed about everything and as usual, a lot of this stress was concentrated on my debt, low income and lack of work prospects. Completing my 29 Gifts experiment reminded me that while I might not have a lot of money, I have enough. It made me more grateful for everything I have and switched my focus.

I also realised I have a lot to give, apart from money. I started valuing my time more. I strengthened my connections with other people. I feel more positive about my life.

Yes, it would have been cool if my challenge had resulted in bigger changes, but it has definitely had an impact. I don’t spend every day feeling sunny and serene – it hasn’t cured my depression, for a start – but I feel better overall. I have more confidence in my ability to change my life, though it will probably happen slowly rather than in huge, dramatic leaps.

It really does feel like the negative and positive aspects of my life are more in balance.

 

Try giving and see what you have to gain!

There is something special about the 29 Gifts challenge. It connects with a lot of concepts which I believe in, such as karma, compassion and gratitude. As Cami Walker’s friend, Mbali, pointed out, it takes the focus away from yourself and your problems. When you are looking for opportunities to give, you can’t wallow in negativity.

The beauty of doing the challenge is there’s nothing to lose. At the very least, you do a bit of good in the world. Its effect on your own life is a bonus.

And that warm and fuzzy feeling you get from giving is pretty damned good.

Reconnecting with Goals

February is a great time to reconnect with your goals, because the “new year, new you” hype is subsiding and you can gauge which of your New Year Resolutions are actually important to you. You have over a month’s feedback on how you have approached your goals. You might have made huge progress on some, while others have fallen by the wayside — and now is the time to figure out why.

Stepping stones

How do your goals make you feel?

Are you excited by them? Scared of them? Frustrated that you haven’t made more progress? Feeling any emotion at all is a good sign, because it means you care about the goal. It’s not something you have chosen arbitrarily.

Examine these emotions. Ask yourself why you are feeling each particular emotion. Sometimes this will be straightforward: you might be excited by your goal to start a particular course because it’s something you have wanted to do for a long time and you are passionate about te subject. Sometimes you will have to pick apart the thoughts and beliefs you hold about a particular goal to figure out why you are feeling an emotion.

Here is an example of a more complex process of unpacking an emotion: you feel angry about your goal to lose weight. You want to lose weight to be healthier and aren’t feeling pressured by anyone else, so why are you angry? What does the goal say about you? It says you are carrying excess weight (in your opinion), so what beliefs do you hold about this excess weight? You might think it means you have been lazy or greedy. You used to be slim and fit, but you have let yourself down. You are angry because you gained weight and now you have to make an effort to lose it.

If you are experiencing negative emotions in relation to your goals, see if you can reframe your feelings. Anger, in the above example, could be channelled into determination if you make an effort to be more compassionate towards yourself and stop focusing on the weight gain. Fear is often mixed with excitement — they share a lot of symptoms, like an increased heartbeat and feeling jittery — so practice telling yourself you are excited when you feel scared. It’s a different way of interpreting the uncertainty of what will happen when you work towards your goal.

 

Why did you choose your goals?

It’s easy to set goals which don’t really matter to you. We all get influenced by the people in our lives and society in general. We convince ourselves that achieving a particular goal will make us happy, because that’s how it’s sold to us.

Think about why you selected your goals. Are you hoping it will have potential side effects, such as making you more confident or assertive? If so, why not choose a goal to work on these side effects? It would give you a greater chance of success. Focus on guaranteed results (or as close as you can get): losing weight might or might not improve your confidence, but it will make you healthier if you choose an appropriate target and methods. Finishing writing your novel probably won’t result in a fantasy publishing deal, but it will help you develop your craft and increase your chances of success.

Having a clear vision for why you chose each goal will help you to stay on track when your motivation slips. If it’s someone else’s vision or a vision you know is a lie, it ain’t going to work.

 

Recommit, adapt, sideline or drop.

Use the information you gathered from asking yourself the above questions to decide whether to keep pursuing your goals. There is no shame in dropping goals if they are not what you want. It’s fine to sideline goals which you would like to tackle in future, but can’t or don’t want to prioritise now. Adapting goals isn’t cheating; it’s about refining them so they resemble what you want and how you want to approach them.

Rewrite your goals, even if you haven’t changed them, and recommit to working towards them. Reconnect with your whys. Visualise both working towards and achieving your goals. Be motivated by them. Imagine how you will feel when you achieve your goals.

Don’t judge your goals. So what if they might seem too big or too small to other people? These are your goals and they should be all about you,.

A goal is simply something you want. It can be exotic or mundane. Easy or difficult. Safe or adventurous. Try not to care about what other people think (I know, easier said than done…) and remember, you don’t need to share your goals with anyone who might be unsupportive. You are changing your life — you’re the person who gets the final say on what you want.

 

Sort out your steps.

You don’t need to plan every stage of working towards your goal, but it helps. If nothing else, have a broad idea of the route. There will be inevitable detours and obstacles, but mapping the terrain will help you stay on track.

The most important thing is to plan your first steps. Make them small and easy, so you can cut through your excuses. If you need money to achieve your goal, your first step could be arranging a few extra hours at work or cutting a couple of nonessentials from your budget. Once you complete the first few steps, figure out the next few.

Take action and keep taking action. It’s simple, but it’s not easy.

When you feel demotivated, remind yourself of your whys and keep taking action. Even if it feels pointless. Keep moving. You might not feel like you are making progress, but simply working towards your goal is an achievement in itself. There will be setbacks and times when you feel like you haven’t made progress for weeks or months. You will get angry, frustrated and disappointed from time to time. No matter — just keep breaking down your goal into tiny steps and don’t stop.

 

Cut through your own bullshit.

We are brilliant at lying to ourselves. We say we are working towards our goals when we haven’t made progress in ages. We tell ourselves we haven’t achieved our goals because we lack money, time or good mental health. We give up on goals because believing they are too hard is easier than giving them a fair shot.

Be aware of your favourite excuses and be ready to knock them down whenever they crop up. If your goals have fallen to the wayside, be honest with yourself as to why that is. Have your priorities changed? Are you scared of failure or success? Have you psyched yourself out because your goal seems too complicated?

Stop kidding yourself. If you think you need more time/money/better health to achieve your goal, incorporate those mini-goals into your ultimate goal. Or figure out a way to achieve your goal without getting those things. Seriously. There are millions of examples of people who have achieved goals without having access to resources we view as necessary. Why shouldn’t you do the same?

If you no longer want to pursue your goal — and you’re being honest with yourself about it — have the courage to admit it. Don’t keep saying you want it when you have generated more excuses than action steps. You are allowed to stop, even if you have invested a lot of time, money and energy. Even if other people have sacrificed a lot. Spending more time, money and energy on a goal you no longer want to achieve is pointless, more likely to lead to failure and soul-destroying.

Bullshitting yourself uses up a lot of energy, so save that energy for the stuff you really want to do.

 

Choose your own path.

Setting and working towards goals is a personal endeavour. That’s why it’s important to connect with your goals and stay connected. If your heart isn’t in it, don’t waste your time — choose to do something you will actually enjoy and find fulfilling.

If you are choosing to abandon your New Year Resolutions now it’s February, examine why. Have you honestly stopped wanting to achieve your goals in the past five weeks? Did you choose a goal based on what you thought you should want? Or are you trying to convince yourself you don’t really want to achieve your goals because they involve a lot of hard work and potential failure?

Everyone is scared of failure, even those of us who try to embrace it. I know it’s a cliché to say the only sure way to fail is to never try, but that doesn’t mean it’s not true. Another cliché that’s true: we tend to regret the stuff we never tried, not the stuff we tried and failed to do. I try to celebrate failure nowadays, because it’s a sign that I’m trying to change my life — after years of being resigned to misery and despair, it’s refreshing.

So set forth and follow your own path, because you can’t live your life in the constant maelstrom of paying more attention to other people’s opinions and judgements than your own goals and desires. And have you noticed that people who ridicule failure the most, tend to be those who are too scared to work towards significant goals?

Turning Points

I have been thinking about turning points a lot lately — blame the new year! Everyone seems to be talking about their goals or how they have already broken their resolutions. I like talking about goals and how to achieve them, but so much of the discussion is polarising: people tend to be either super-motivated, insisting we can all transform our lives in a millisecond, or pessimistic and resigned to never being able to change. It’s frustrating, because the healthiest attitude, especially for those of us with mental health issues, falls between these black and white views.

Signpost

Turning points are decisions.

Whether you are trying to change your life or your day, getting the desired outcome starts with making a decision. The decision doesn’t guarantee a certain consequence, but it does mean there is a chance of success. It’s more effective than waiting for things to change on their own.

For example, if you are having a bad day and feeling more depressed than usual, you have a choice. You can wait and see how the day plays out, whether something will happen to improve your mood. Or you can decide to do something which might improve your mood.

What you do will vary, depending on your current abilities and access to activities. You might feel better if you could jet off to somewhere sunny, but that isn’t an option for most people — even if you have the money, work and other commitments get in the way. Going for a walk is one of my go-to options, but sometimes anxiety prevents me from going out. Watching a favourite film or TV programme is a good option for accessibility — though others include reading, listening to music and baking.

You might feel no better after trying to change things, but the point is you tried — you took action instead of passively waiting and reacting to anything which happens.

 

How to create a turning point.

1. Decide what you want. What are your current goals? This could be something you have always wanted to do in life or simply changing the course of this week. It doesn’t matter — as long as it’s something you want.

2. Brainstorm ways to achieve what you want. Include everything which comes to mind, even if it seems stupid. If you get stuck, research ways other people have achieved similar goals.

3. Evaluate your options. Are they healthy? Realistic? Accessible? What would you need to fulfil each course of action? Don’t dismiss something just because it will be difficult, especially if it’s something you really want, but be aware of potential pitfalls.

4. Pick a course of action. Decide what to do and consider the steps involved. Your course of action may be single, consisting of a single step, or it could be complex. Again, research any aspects of your plan which you don’t know how to go about — fill in the blanks.

5. Take the first step. This is your turning point. No matter how small it seems, it could make a difference to you. Whatever the outcome, be proud of yourself.

 

Keep creating new turning points.

Improving your situation in the long term involves consistency and persistence. Success is more likely if you stick to your course of action and keep going. However, there will be setbacks and pitfalls. You will mess up. You will stray from the path you have chosen.

If this happens, don’t beat yourself up; just create a new turning point. No matter how many times you fail or let yourself down, you can always decide to change. Point yourself in the right direction, take the first step and don’t turn back.

Upgrading, Not Transforming

Happy new year! I’m sorry I haven’t blogged for ages. My depression got worse before Christmas and once I was feeling better, I had a lot of work and studying with which I needed to catch up. It’s been difficult, but the worst is over and I feel better for the days getting (gradually) longer and lighter.

I find it interesting that everyone seems to be divided at the start of a new year: they either buy into the “new year, new you” thing or rail against it. Personally, I believe both approaches have their benefits and a moderate approach is best. You are perfectly good as you are and self-acceptance is important, but there is a lot of value in setting and working towards goals.

I have a list of things I would like to achieve this year, but I’m also trying to appreciate my life as it is.

I have a lot of things to be grateful for, not least of which is having the opportunity to achieve (what I considered to be) a major life goal last year. I also feel I belong in my own life more, which is hard to explain. I suppose it’s about feeling as though I am doing meaningful things and contributing to the world in my own small way.

 

My approach: upgrading

I have been frustrated in the past (the recent past, too) that achieving a big goal hasn’t totally transformed my life. I know it was unrealistic to have those expectations, but I’m human and I tend to think “I would be so much happier and more successful if only I could do X.” I *think* I have finally learnt that while certain accomplishments or experiences may change my life, this is most likely to happen gradually rather than overnight.

Take trekking to Machu Picchu, for instance. I didn’t quite believe I could do it, right up to the point that I arrived at the Sun Gate, but I had all these assumptions about what it would mean if I did reach my goal. I thought I would be fearless, confident, unstoppable. I thought I would be able to change my life within weeks of returning home. I thought it would change me.

And it has changed me, but not as much or as quickly as I had hoped. I am more confident, although I still struggle at certain and in certain situations. I know I’m capable of committing to a huge goal and achieving it. Even of 99% of what I attempt results in failure, I know success is possible.

I alluded to the biggest change in my life in the openings paragraph of this post — my trek inspired me to embark on a Psychology BSc with the Open University. I have no idea what impact it will have on my life, but I know it’s a step in the right direction. I will probably be able to join the dots only in hindsight, several years or more down the line. All I know is that studying is the right thing for me to do for now and it will provide me with more opportunities.

I have decided to view changes like my Psychology course as upgrades. They haven’t transformed my life, but they have set me on a path which may lead to transformation.

I have also decided to view my goals for 2018 as upgrades. Achieving all of my goals may not change my life a great deal, certainly not on a daily basis, but my life will improve. I hope to end this year fitter, healthier and with better finances. I probably won’t be able to solve the major problems in my life (poor mental health, a lot of debt, living with my parents), but I can make improvements.

 

Focusing on the process

A major lesson which life has taught me over and over again is that I can’t control the results of anything — I can only control what I do. I find this easier to accept in some areas of my life more than others.

Submitting short stories, for example. I know I can’t control whether my story will win a prize or get published; all I can to is submit it to the competition or literary journal. However, I got very frustrated when obstacles threatened my Machu Picchu trek. It was annoying, being on a once-in-a-lifetime challenge and struggling with altitude sickness, panic attacks and a throat infection. It wasn’t fair. But every time I started thinking about the unfairness, I had a panic attack. This made my situation worse. The only way I could make progress was to focus on the process, putting one foot in front of the other without thinking about how hard it was or how much further I had to go.

So my goals for 2018 are all about focusing on the process. I won’t bore you by listing them, but suffice to say that they are all within my control and achieving them should be possible as long as I focus on execution and not results.

Getting caught up in results often harms execution. For instance, if your goal is to lose weight and you have a specific time frame in mind, it can be demotivating when you have a disappointing week. You convince yourself you’re off track, even if you have been following your eating and exercise plan. You might wonder why you bother and get sucked into a downward spiral, comfort eating so much that you jeopardise the next week’s weight loss. Chances are your disappointing weigh-in was down to normal weight fluctuation, but focusing on it and losing sight of the process can turn a blip into an abandoned goal.

Focusing on the process doesn’t mean you ignore the results: it’s about giving the process a fair shot before you change or abandon it. 

The type of results for which you are aiming also bear consideration. How much are they within your control? Weight loss, for example, is within the control of most of us. While you may have medical conditions which make it harder to lose weight, it’s possible for most people (with some exceptions; I’m not denying that). You may have to tackle psychological issues and/or physical problems along the way, but you can do it. Other results are almost completely outside your control: winning a Nobel Prize or getting married to a celebrity you fancy, for example. These are not good goals, because you will be setting yourself up for disappointment (again, with a few exceptions).

 

Prioritising a healthy attitude

The biggest problem for me is that working towards goals can trigger my mental health problems. Facing a setback can exacerbate my depression and/or anxiety. I can quickly convince myself that I’m doomed to failure and might as well give up.

Conversely, working towards goals also has a positive impact on my mental health. It gives my life meaning and purpose. It bolsters my self-esteem and helps me develop resilience. 

Bearing this in mind, I have to be careful about how I approach goals. I need to keep a sense of perspective and remind myself of the progress I have already made, both towards a particular goal and in other areas of my life. I know my red flags — becoming obsessed about a goal, letting a goal affect my mood — so when my attitude is becoming unhealthy, I can stop and remind myself of what is most important in my life, i.e. maintaining the optimal level of mental health I can at any time.

I like using charts to measure my progress, especially those that focus on the process. For example, ticking or colouring in a box every time I go for a run or put £5 in my savings account. Having a visual representation of my progress helps me to keep perspective. Plus there’s something really satisfying about ticking or colouring a box!

 

Will you join me?

I believe setting goals is a (note: not the) key to a healthy and fulfilling life. I get sick of all the “new year, new you” stuff, especially when I see adverts claiming that losing weight will have magical effects on your life (I lost a lot of weight in the past and it didn’t make me happier or more successful and though I was physically healthier, my mental health was worse). However, I also know that almost everything I like about my life has been created through setting goals. Even when I haven’t achieved a goal, I have learnt from the process and often made progress.

So I encourage you to set healthy, exciting goals which will lead you closer to your ideal life.You might want to change your life completely, but change starts with improving the areas of your life which matter most to you. These small improvements snowball over time and lead to you doing things you never believed possible.

Go for it. You can make your life a little better. You might transform your life this year, but you might not — and that’s okay. Good luck!