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.

Contingency Planning

I submitted my final assignments for the Open University modules I’m studying this year well before the deadlines and I’m going to explain why I don’t consider this a Good Thing. The last two assignments are End of Module Assessments (EMAs) which are supposed to be analogous to exams, so there are no deadline extensions. Since my mental health is unpredictable and my current physical health even more so, I had to make contingency plans in case my mental health plummeted or I had bad gallstone attacks in the weeks before the deadline. It’s a coping strategy I wish I didn’t have to implement, but I have learnt that this degree of flexibility is necessary for me.

Notebook

Preparing to be thrown off course by my mental health is an integral part of goal setting. In this case, I had to get ahead when I felt well and finish the previous two assignments, with deadlines in April, as soon as possible so I could focus on the EMAs. It was pretty intense, but ensured I had several weeks to work on the EMAs. Do I really need several weeks’ leeway? Absolutely. My health can easily become a huge issue without warning. My mental health can go into freefall and the scariest aspect is, sometimes several weeks wouldn’t have been enough leeway.

I was lucky this time around. My mental health has taken a downturn recently, but I could work around it.

What does “working around” my mental health mean?

Put simply, it means doing whatever I can, whenever I can. It’s how I live my life. Some days I can function like any other person and be very productive; some days I am unable to do anything other than slump on the couch, my mind whirring but producing nothing. Most days are a mixture.

Living with mental health problems is difficult, so I have had to devise coping strategies which work for me and help me to be more productive. These include:

  1. Identifying my priorities at any given time. When mental illness limits the number of hours I have available to work (or do anything else), I need to know the best way to spend those hours.
  2. Being super-organised. Depression and anxiety affect my memory, so I write everything down. I need to know my goals and break them down into tasks. I put these tasks on my to-do list, which is divided into high, medium and low priority tasks for each week. I also have a future to-do list, for tasks I can’t or don’t want to complete at the moment.
  3. Being flexible. Because my mental health is unpredictable, scheduling tasks on specific days doesn’t work very well for me, so I try to avoid it unless it’s absolutely necessary. I sometimes allocate tasks to certain days, but I don’t beat myself up if I can’t stick to this plan.

I wish I didn’t have to use these coping strategies. I would love to be able to plan to work on my EMAs for a few weeks before the deadline, like most other people, but no possibility of an extension means I need to prepare for ill health.

This also applies to all other aspects of my life.

I’m sure some ignorant people assume I can do non-work tasks without making contingency plans and these are probably the same people who think mental illness is just an excuse to avoid work, but my mental health affects all aspects of my life. I have had to cancel countless enjoyable activities. For every night out I’ve had with friends, there were five I had to cancel at the last minute and hundreds I never planned because I knew I couldn’t handle it. When my mental health dips, I struggle to do anything, including leisure activities I can do at home, alone. During these periods, I can’t even read or concentrate on watching a film.

I used to feel incredibly ashamed of being forced to live this way. Many friends slipped away because they didn’t understand why I couldn’t go out like a “normal” person and often struggled to leave the house at all. They got bored with hanging out at each other’s homes when anxiety prevented me from going to the cinema or a café. However, as I get older, I’m learning to accept that this is the way it has to be. For now, at least. If so-called friends can’t accept my mental health problems, they can thank their lucky stars they’re not in the same situation and fuck off.

I wouldn’t have chosen this life of constant contingency planning, but I’m learning to make the best of it.

I’m getting better at controlling the things I can and letting go of whatever I can’t control. Better, but nowhere near perfect! I still get frustrated with myself, the universe and life in general, but I keep working towards my goals. My aim is simple: improvement. My life probably won’t change completely anytime soon, but most days are bearable and I’m proud of the goals I’ve achieved.

I can’t celebrate submitting my EMAs early, because I wish I didn’t have to rely so heavily on contingency plans, but I’m proud that I submitted them. Two years of my part-time Psychology BSc down, three (hopefully) to go!