Taking It In Your Stride

“Just take it in your stride.” Good advice, right? Nobody wants to be derailed by obstacles and challenges. However, those of us who have mental health problems can find it difficult (often impossible) to take things in our stride.

Even small and/or anticipated problems can knock us off course. Setbacks seem to confirm the negative beliefs we hold or have held about ourselves:

“I am a failure and always will be.”

“I’m not good enough.”

“I can’t cope.”

We feel people are judging us for making mistakes or not being able to cope with our problems. Our thoughts can spiral out of control, so that a tiny setback leads us to think our entire lives are catastrophes.

 

So how can you help someone gain perspective?

First of all, please don’t contradict what they are saying. You may think you are showing the person concerned that they don’t need to worry, but minimising and dismissing other people’s problems is unhelpful and potentially harmful. They are already judging themselves for not being able to take the situation in their stride; suggesting their problems are unimportant and they are therefore overreacting piles on more judgment. It may not be your intention to belittle them, but that’s how your words can be perceived.

By not being sensitive to how the person in question feels, you imply that their emotional reaction is the problem. This can be easily translated as “I am the problem”, thus confirming their negative beliefs and leaving them feeling worse.

Instead, try a more compassionate and productive approach:

1. Acknowledge how they feel. They are entitled to their emotions and none of us can control our emotional reactions, though we can learn to control how we express our feelings, emotions and thoughts. Don’t start giving advice straightaway — listen.

2. Try to understand their perspective. Keep listening. Ask questions to clarify how they feel. Try to connect and empathise, so that you can learn why they believe the problem, challenge or setback is a disaster.

3. Support them. Let them know you will help in any way you can and reassure them that they can improve the situation. If they ask for advice, give it, but don’t dictate what you think they should do. Ask them questions which help them consider their options and plan their own course of action — if they feel able to take action.

 

Check your language.

An issue I have encountered a lot when talking about my problems is people dismissing my concerns, often implying that because my life has improved since my worst periods of depression and anxiety, my current situation shouldn’t bother me. I’m sure most people don’t intend to make me feel worse, but many phrases which are supposed to be reassuring can have darker implications.

For example, “look how far you’ve come” can be motivating if someone is in a positive frame of mind, but can also be interpreted as “you should be grateful for the improvements in your life and not expect more.” I find it especially patronising when spoken by people who have led relatively “normal” lives, usually when they try to tell me that my current situation is better than I think — as though I have no right to be frustrated about my mental health, financial situation and living with my parents.

Other phrases which people think are motivating or reassuring, but actually leave a lot of us feeling worse, include:

“There are plenty of people worse off than you.” True, but there are many people better off than me — including the people who like to “remind” me that things could be worse.

“Things will change soon.” Maybe, but often nothing significant seems to change for years on end.

.”You’re lucky to have X.” Again, braodly true, but when X is my dog or parents who haven’t chucked me out on the street, it feels like whoever says this is scraping the barrel.

Before you try to reassure someone, consider:

1. Are they in the right frame of mind to hear this without misinterpreting it? Often, people just want to be heard. They aren’t expecting you to solve their problems or give them a pep talk. They may want to vent or express their emotions without being told they should feel differently.

2. Would hearing this actually help them? In most cases, especially when emotions are high, the answer is no. When I’m depressed, the most inspiring stories can make me feel worse because I feel so pathetic and unable to change.

 

What can you do if you can’t take things in your stride?

Try to stay afloat. Practice self-care and do what you can to stop things getting worse.

If you can, that is. Sometimes problems and setbacks can make us feel as though we are drowning and we can’t stop struggling. Instead of letting go and hoping we rise to the surface, we try to cling to things in desperation — though clinging to them will keep us trapped underwater for longer. We cling to unhealthy relationships, harmful habits and negative beliefs. We can keep clinging, or we can let go and accept our current situation.

Acceptance is bloody hard, but it’s the only way we can stay afloat. And unless we learn to stay afloat first, our attempts to swim against the tide and change our lives will keep sucking us under. It’s a lesson I’m learning over and over.

Berating yourself (and the world in general) gets you nowhere, because you get sucked down into the same old negative thought patterns. Practicing self-care and self-love lead to acceptance. Unfortunately, as the word “practice” suggests, it’s difficult to learn to love and care for yourself, so you need to pay attention and take active steps on a regular basis.

If you feel unable to cope, please seek help and support. Your GP is a good first port of call, but there are also various helplines, therapists and counsellors. Talking to a trusted friend or family member and asking them to help you access appropriate sources of support is a good idea.

 

Long term strategy.

When you have chronic mental health issues, feeling blown off course by life events which others seem to take in their stride is a frequent occurrence. I think the trick is to recognise when you need to stop swimming and float for a while.

Doing this can feel like you are taking a step backwards, but it actually prevents you from losing progress.

Constantly swimming against the tide is exhausting, so we all need a break sometimes. If you are experiencing mental health problems, you may need more breaks than other people — perhaps more than you would like — but it’s essential to float when you need to float. In fact, it’s the best strategy for your long term success and fulfilment.

Self-care helps you to swim further in the long run 🙂

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.

Choosing Is Hard

If you read about mental health, wellbeing and/or self-improvement, you have probably read a lot about ‘choice’. A lot of the information is true and basic common sense: our choices do determine our lives, no matter what has happened to us. We can choose how to react to life events, including mental illness. However, what the rhetoric often misses out is that making these choices is bloody hard.

For a start, you might not realise you have a choice. Mental illness makes you believe you are powerless. Depression, anxiety and other conditions change your thought patterns. You think you are useless, worthless, hopeless. You think your life is pointless. These thoughts often spiral out of control so all you can see is the negative fog of your illness.

I have certainly felt like this – I still do, during bad days or weeks. In the past, this mindset has lasted for months on end – perhaps years – and I truly believed there was no way out. I didn’t know I had a choice, even when I made choices like going to the doctor and taking my medication. I did those things because my parents said I should, not because I thought I could be helped.

Any discussion of ‘choice’ should acknowledge the vital roles of opportunity and support.

If you have no support, making choices is more difficult. You have no reassurance that you are doing the right thing – assuming it’s possible to identity ‘the right thing’. There is always an element of risk in making different choices, because results are never guaranteed. Without support, this risk often feels too high and you are too afraid to change, because you don’t know whether anyone will have your back if you fail.

Professional support, from doctors, counsellors and/or therapists, is very valuable. Sometimes, it feels like they are the only ones who have a degree or understanding and want you to get better, as opposed to wishing you would keep the status quo even if it’s painful for you. However, professional support works best when it is complemented by support in your personal life, from family and friends. If you have little support from those who are closest to you, it is more challenging to make decisions which might have long term benefits but cause discomfort (or even pain) in the short term.

Having support in other aspects of your life makes a difference, too. At work, for instance, you have more options when you have a supportive employers, managers and colleagues. They have the scope to offer opportunities which unsupportive people will not, such as training and mentorship. It also helps if you know you can have time off when you need it, without worrying that you will face a formal warning when you return to work (which happened to me, when I was employed by a certain supermarket).

Other sources of support could be accessed through education, hobbies and groups. Unfortunately, mental illness tends to narrow your life and makes you withdraw from these potential sources of support, which means it can take a great deal of effort to continue pursuing an interest or attending a class. During my worst episodes, I feel unable to do the things which help me feel supported and purposeful.

All potential choices may seem undesirable.

How do you make choices when all of the options have massive drawbacks? Sure, at least one choice probably has the potential to lead you in the direction of long term success, fulfilment and/or happiness, but it may also have huge risks involved. For example, I used to be too scared to walk my dog on my own. I had walked the route thousands of times over the years, often on my own, yet the idea of walking out of the house alone terrified me. Why? Walking on my own had numerous potential benefits, including enjoying the countryside and improving my mood, but it also carried the risk that I would have (another) panic attack in public.

Every time I have had a panic attack in public, I have experienced humiliation on top of the dread and discomfort which every other panic attack brings. It had an impact on my mood and other symptoms for weeks afterwards (sometimes months) and led to more restrictions in my life, such as not going out at all when I had previously been fine with my friends or family members. It also affected my confidence, meaning I would avoid doing anything which might result in failure.

So my options were: go for a walk alone and risk a panic attack which would have a devastating impact on my mental health, or stay at home and risk nothing other than living the rest of my life feeling bad but not as bad as I might feel after a panic attack. Neither option was desirable. Especially during times when I was experiencing a lot of panic attacks, so the chance of having one in public was greatly increased.

I was only able to make the choice to go for a walk on my own after receiving a lot of treatment and support, including medication, therapy and counselling. I also had people in my life who understood enough to help me, instead of forcing me to make certain choices before I was ready.

It’s hard to keep making choices without seeing results.

Many of the choices we make do not have instant effects. Some do not reveal their full effects for months or years. This makes it difficult to choose certain courses of action and to keep going after you have made the initial decision.

Often, I only realise the effects of my choices in hindsight. Something reminds me of how life used to be and when I compare it to my present, I can see which choices have led to the difference. Several years ago, I was extremely unfit. I was at university full time and prioritised my studies over everything, because I believed I had something to prove after assuming I would never have the opportunity to pursue a degree. I walked less, especially after I passed my driving test just before starting the second year, and did no other exercise. Walking to and from the car park was a challenge because I had become so unfit.

Nowadays, I am pretty fit: I walk every day, go to three gym classes a week and try to run at least twice a week. This did not happen overnight. The first choice I made was to buy a treadmill, so I could walk inside (as previously mentioned, I could not walk outside alone at this time). I started walking very slowly and for short periods of time. It felt pathetic, being challenged by an activity I used to find easy, but I gradually built up my speed and distance. Looking back, those first walks on the treadmill represented some of the best choices I have made. But at the time, they were painful and frustrating because my progress seemed slow. Choosing to keep walking was difficult and if I did not have the treadmill, I doubt I would have persevered.

I could only make the choice(s) to continue walking because I was in the right headspace and had the right opportunity (access to credit so I could buy the treadmill). When you don’t have the right mindset, support and opportunities, it is extremely difficult to keep going.

You may not see the full impact of your choices for a long time.

Related to the previous point is the fact that the consequences of your choices, good and bad, might not be apparent for years. Looking back, I realise that I made a lot of mistakes. Every time I stayed at home because I felt too anxious to go out, my world got a little smaller and darker. Each time I struggled on my own instead of asking for help, I became more anxious and depressed. Would I have made different decisions if I knew the full effects? Maybe, but I did the best I could in the circumstances.

It is important not to blame yourself or other people for past actions taken in good faith. While the choices made might have led to an undesirable situation, most of us believe we are doing the right thing when we take those decisions. Every time I stayed at home, I thought I was sparing my friends and family the embarrassment of my anxiety symptoms. Each time I refused to ask for help, I believed I was sparing people from my causing them trouble or inconvenience. We are all experts with hindsight, but we should never forget how it feels when you make poor decisions because you think they are for the best.

Your choices may have unexpected consequences.

Your choices may have unforeseen effects, whether positive or negative, which can be difficult to cope with or understand. When you are trying your best to make positive changes in life, it’s difficult to respond to one of your choices backfiring.

Sometimes, your choices create problems because other people don’t understand your perspective. They may think you are causing unnecessary stress for yourself by choosing to pursue a certain goal. They may accuse you of being selfish for spending your time and money on your own priorities, instead of the things they think should be prioritised. When considering people’s reactions, it is important to remember that they have their own issues and sets of beliefs. Their responses say more about them than you.

Dealing with the unexpected can be hard. When you make choices, you often assume they will have specific consequences and unforeseen effects can make you question everything. The fear of unexpected consequences may cause indecision for some people: it may seem illogical, if you believe they can improve their lives through making a certain choice, but they may feel more comfortable sticking with what they know, even if it is making them unhappy. Their behaviour might not make sense to you, but trying to understand rather than berating them is more likely to enable them to change. People in this situation need support, not judgement.

Making the ‘wrong’ choices doesn’t make you less worthy of love, support or respect.

Some people talk about others making a ‘choice’ to do something which has negative effects, without considering whether they had any support or opportunities to make a different choice. It’s easy to judge and, unfortunately, many people who judge have experienced difficulties themselves and believe others should be able to overcome their problems simply because they themselves did. Their attitude is ‘I managed to cope, so why can’t you?’

There are, of course, a number of potential answers to this question. Different people have different life skills, coping abilities, levels of self-esteem, supportive factors in their lives, etc. Often, these differences cannot be appreciated by those on the outside. Someone who seems to have everything going for them, such as a good job and family, may have very low self-esteem and believe they are unworthy of the positive changes they can make. Somebody who appears to have supportive parents may actually be undermined by them at home, when nobody is there to witness it.

If you have helped yourself by making good choices, please don’t judge those who are not ready (and might never be ready) to do the same. You are not superior to them.

If you have made and/or continue to make poor choices, try not to judge yourself. You deserve support. You deserve a better life.

The bottom line is, making choices can be difficult and many people feel unable to choose courses of action which will help them in the long term. Judging and punishing people in this situation helps nobody. It is unlikely to persuade them to change their behaviour; in my experience, it makes them feel more wretched and more likely to make poor decisions. We all have a choice, but we might not feel able to choose.

Limboland

I haven’t posted an update on what’s happening in my life recently, for a simple reason: nothing much has been happening. I don’t want to bore everyone, but I also realise that if I want to talk about my mental health problems in an honest and open fashion, I have to include the times when I feel stuck in limbo.

My mental health has been pretty stable for over a month, which is good in many ways — but it also means I don’t feel it’s improving. It’s a frustrating situation, because I feel well enough that I want to change things but not well enough to make drastic changes. All I can do is take small steps and hope my mood improves when spring finally arrives.

It feels as though everyone else is surging forward in life and I’m stuck.

Don’t get me wrong — I’m grateful that my mental illness is better than it was before Christmas and know from experience that I could be feeling far worse, but my day-to-day life is 90% struggle and I’m sick of it. I feel like I’m working hard to improve my life, but not getting the results I want.

I’m trying to focus on the things I can work on right now: writing more, doing my OU course and improving my fitness. However, the usual worries about finding paid work and not having enough money replay in the back of my mind on a constant loop. It’s stressful and bloody boring.

I think I’m getting better at self-care though, which is something positive. In particular, forcing myself to be active helps a lot — I was too subdued to walk the dog on Saturday and it sent my mood into a downward spiral. When I make myself go for walks, I usually feel better for it. As well as having a neurochemical effect, doing exercise gives me a psychological boost: I feel like I have done something worthwhile. In my own small way, I have achieved something.

I think I just have to accept how I feel, though I wish things were different.

I can manage my mental health, but I can’t fully control it. All I can do is keep going and hope things improve.

Prepare to Talk

I’m writing this post because to tomorrow is Time to Talk Day and while I think it’s a great way to raise awareness about mental health issues, we also need to acknowledge that talking can be difficult. Some of the comments I have read on social media point out that trying to talk is not always a positive experience. It’s sad and infuriating, but true. With this in mind, here are my tips for preparing to talk about mental health…

Speech bubbles

 

1. Decide on your aims before you start the conversation.

What do you hope to get out of talking? Help and support from a particular person? More understanding in general?

What do you want to talk about? There are many topics within the broad subject of mental health. Picking one or two will help you steer the conversation.

Often, conversations will go in a different direction to what you anticipated, but having a clear set of aims and objectives in your mind will help you to start talking. It’s also helpful to use your aims as focal points, so you can return to them if the conversation starts turning in a direction you find uncomfortable.

Deciding on your aims needn’t be complicated: you can stick to one simple aim. 

Here are some examples:

• To let my friend know I struggle with anxiety

• To tell my colleagues that having time off for depression doesn’t mean I’m lazy

• To ask my mum to help me get counselling

 

2. Prepare for unexpected outcomes — positive and negative.

Some people may not respond to your conversation in the way you would like. There are loads of reasons for this: some people refuse to acknowledge mental illness out of fear or ignorance, some avoid talking about mental health because they have their own issues and are uncomfortable discussing them and other people will have a million other reasons.

The best way you can prepare for the unexpected is to try not to take anyone’s response personally. If someone refuses to listen, it says more about them than it does about you.

I know that’s easier said than done, but try to decide on an action plan in advance. How will you react if the person says something offensive? Or if they just aren’t interested? Put your needs first — it’s fine to walk away.

Time to Talk Day isn’t about being a martyr; it’s about starting the conversation. It’s not your fault if others don’t want to participate and you don’t need to “fight for the cause” by trying to extend the conversation when you might as well be talking to a brick wall.

It also helps to prepare for positive responses. I’m always delighted when my openness persuades other people to talk about their mental health issues, but it can be challenging when you don’t know what to say. As a minimum, tell people to go to their local GP if they have any concerns. This is the best initial course of action overall, so try not to put them off by sharing any negative experiences about seeking help.

It can also be helpful to point people in the direction of some good websites if they want to more information or support. Here are a few of my top recommendations:

Mind

Samaritans

Young Minds

 

3. Feel proud of yourself.

Speaking out is hard. It’s brave. Starting a conversation about mental health is an achievement — even if it doesn’t turn out how you wanted.

You might feel discouraged by a negative experience, but please keep on trying. The negative experiences are symptoms of why we need to talk and keep talking: there is still a lot of stigma, ignorance and apathy in the world.

If your experience is positive, please share it with others. It can be a flickering light in the darkness to people who have lost hope and think have nobody to talk to.

Also remember that there are plenty of ways to “talk” so you can join in even if you feel uncomfortable talking in person. Blogs and social media are a great way to start “talking”.

Keep starting conversations and we will break down the stigma — one talk at a time. Good luck!

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.

Self-Caring

I find winter very difficult, so I was fascinated to read an article by Hannah Davies in the February issue of Psychologies magazine in which she discusses her mission to learn to love January. She says that January has now overtaken May as her favourite month, I don’t think I will ever love January more than spring or summer, but I do think it’s a great idea to appreciate the good things about winter. And yes, they are there — if you look hard enough!

Winter tree

One of the things Davies mentions in her article is the intricacy of bare tree branches. That image stuck with me, so when I walked up the lane to my favourite tree yesterday, I took this photo. She’s right — there is a lot of beauty in the stark patterns created by the branches and I have never taken the time to appreciate it before now.

Finding beauty in each day is also a great way to practice mindfulness. It’s difficult to seek out the little details when your mind is full of chatter.

Thinking about finding the beauty in every day, even in winter, made me think about self-care. I recently read The Self-Care Project by Jayne Hardy, which is a very good book with loads of practical information and exercises to work through. Jayne Hardy created The Blurt Foundation and I received the book in December’s Buddybox (which is a great way to practice self-care and support The Blurt Foundation). One of its messages has stuck with me: what does self-care mean for me, right now?

So, what does self-care mean for me at this moment?

It means working towards my goals, but also finding pleasure in the here and now. Appreciating the fact that I walk my dog on my own most days, which I simply wasn’t able to do 2 years ago. Enjoying reading ghost stories when I’m snuggled up in bed. Managing my mental health through exercise. Choosing to eat soup and porridge instead of crisps and cake for meals. And yes, looking forward to the longer, lighter days of spring!

 

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!

Write-Off Weeks

Last week was a struggle. Why? Because my anxiety and depression were worse than “usual” (which gets redefined regularly, depending on the variety and severity of symptoms I experience over a several weeks or so). That’s it. Nothing bad happened. I just felt worse.

A lot of people find this hard to accept: how can someone feel significantly worse for no apparent reason? I find it hard to accept, though experience teaches me again and again that it happens.

I have given up trying to analyse every fluctuation in my mood, because often there is no reason for changes in my symptoms. Even when I can pinpoint potential reasons, I can’t be certain whether they are causes or correlations — sometimes “reasons” are present but don’t affect my mental health. Winter, of course, presents its own litany of potential reasons — cold, wet, dark… Yet my mood isn’t always constant throughout winter.

I’m trying to be more compassionate towards myself and practice self-care, so I didn’t pressure myself as much as I have in the past. I gave myself permission to do whatever I could, even if that meant I did nothing. I focused on my priorities, but didn’t have the energy to fulfil all of them. In fact, the week was pretty much a write-off.

I feel guilty for neglecting my work, studies and volunteering, but part of me realises I could have done nothing more. Actually, I managed to go to all of my gym classes and walk the dog on my own, despite the heightened anxiety, which means the week was more of a success than it felt at the time. I tend to be strict when it comes to exercise, because it’s one of the main ways I manage my mental health. Skipping a session leads to more depression and anxiety; it also makes the next session much harder to do, creating a downward spiral.

I’m focusing on combining self-compassion with being strict about completing activities which help me to manage my mental health in the run up to Christmas. Christmas is difficult for me, but I also love it. I like the sense of togetherness and celebrating the days getting (gradually) lighter again. I like making time to watch films and bake. I love Brussels sprouts, cinnamon and tinsel. I enjoy buying presents and seeing colourful lights everywhere.

Yet some aspects of Christmas aren’t easy to deal with. I get frustrated when I make an effort and other people can’t be bothered, despite being far more able than me. It’s not a fun time to be single either, though at least I don’t have to deal with someone else’s family as well as my own! I shall be referring to my Christmas Survival Guide (and Part Two and Part Three) to help me through.

I have been feeling better since Friday, so I wonder if getting November out of the way has helped. November is the worst month of the year, in my opinion, so it’s always hard to cope. My plan is to concentrate on the things I like about this time of year and look forward to 2018.

I’m also in a reflective mood, brough on by the combination of the end of the year and my final counselling session on Friday. I have achieved a lot this year, but it hasn’t made a great deal of difference to my daily life. I’m still earning next to nothing and relying on working tax credits. I still have an enormous amount of debt. I’m still stuck living with my parents. I still have mental health problems which convince me I’m worthless and better off dead.

Yet trekking to Machu Picchu and being an integral part of a crowdfunding campaign which raised £15,070 for The Project have given me touchstones. I have achieved significant things this year and nobody can take them away from me — not even my mental illness. 

I may not have transformed my life, but I have completed a long-held life goal and made a difference. I have inspired at least one other person to chase her dreams — despite also struggling with mental illness. I may not feel confident a lot of the time, but I think my self-esteem has improved and I’m more willing to take on challenges.

I need to remind myself that while some weeks, or even months, will be write-offs, it doesn’t mean my life as a whole is a write-off.

Losing Spoons

The past couple of weeks have been difficult for me, mainly because I have been losing spoons.

The Spoon Theory is an analogy which helps explain how long term illnesses or conditions can deplete one’s limited energy. It was created by Christine Miserandino, who explains it here. I have previously written about my interpretation of Spoon Theory here and here. The basic concept is that everyone has a limited number of spoons, or units of energy, and when your spoons are limited by an illness or condition, you need to be very selective about how you spend them.

Spoons aren’t guaranteed.

The number of spoons available to you on any given day can vary — sometimes a lot. For example, on a good day I might have 25 spoons whereas I might have only 10 on a bad day. Most days, I average 15-20. The problem is, I don’t know how many spoons I will get in the future. This make planning problematic…

It’s a bit like getting paid a daily wage and never knowing how much you will receive. The amount sometimes bears a resemblance to your actions, i.e. the “work” you do, but there often seems to be no correlation. All you can do is invest, save and spend your spoons wisely — or rather, in what you hope is a wise way!

My current issue is that the number of spoons available to me, on average, have dropped over the past couple of weeks.

I partly expected this, because I attended two very important but anxiety-inducing social events a couple of weeks ago. As I have explained before, even when social occasions have been pleasant and enjoyable, it takes me a few days to recover.

However, the effect has been more dramatic than I anticipated. I think I may be fighting off a cold-type virus, as I have been tired and achy recently and sometimes my throat is scratchy. My mood has dipped too, as it is wont to do at this time of year, so my depression is absorbing more of my energy and motivation.

Accepting low spoon levels.

Having fewer spoons sucks, especially as I had been getting into a good routine with my writing, Open University course and volunteer work. Unfortunately, getting upset about the situation just uses up more spoons! It’s frustrating, because I feel like there should be a reason for losing spoons — perhaps I did something wrong or neglected some of the activities which give me more energy — but I can’t find one. It’s part and parcel of experiencing long term mental health problems.

The most annoying aspect of having few spoons to spend is being forced to narrow my priorities further than usual.

Having little energy means I have had to neglect very important parts of my life, because I need to prioritise my mental health first and foremost, followed by my work. I have no other option. I hate having to do it, but I can’t spend spoons which aren’t available to me.

It’s hard not to feel anxious about this state of affairs. I feel guilty for havig to cut back on my volunteer work and not seeing my friends very often. However, anxiety costs more spoons so I’m trying to avoid stressing out about the situation, since I have very little control over it (though that’s easier said than done!).

Moving through the mist.

All I can do is keep moving, even when my way is obscured. Giving in to frustration is detrimental — it won’t help myself or the people I think I’m letting down. I also try to remind myself that I’m not as depressed and anxious as I have been in the past: I may have fewer spoons, but at least I have spoons.

I will make an effort to acknowledge and appreciate what I am managing to do, though I wish I could do more. I submitted my first Open University assignment today, after neglecting it for the past few weeks. I wish I had been able to prepare it over a longer period of time, instead of writing it over the few days before it was due, but I’m glad I got it done.

I hope to get more spoons again soon, but I’m coping with the number I’m getting — which I suppose is good.