Drink Lots of Water

I have just written a list of things to live by, rules, I guess.

My first and biggest rule is drink lots of water. It’s really fucking important. I can’t stress that enough.

Hydration is key to good brain function and it makes you feel a lot more human too!! I find it really helps when I am going through a bad bout of depression. It only helps when I remember to do it, though.

The list was prompted by the mind management book I am reading (I know I have talked about this in the last few posts – I am enjoying the book!)

I have typed my list up, printed it on nice paper and I am going to look at it every morning when I write my positive affirmations & reasons to be grateful (thank you to the person that suggested that in my comments!!).

I suppose the idea behind printing it out is that I can surround myself in my beliefs and positive words in the hope it will re-train my brain and give me a better outlook on life. I am hopeful. Half a lifetime of depression, suicidal thoughts and anxiety will not wash away with the creation of a poster but it seems a good start.

Another thing on my list; get lots of rest. This is a new one to me. I love to be busy. I hate to be still. I am very, very high functioning for a depressed person. I hate this so much. I don’t like to hate something that comes naturally but I get so overwhelmed and frustrated that my body will not slow down.

That is something else I am re-training within my brain. It is OK to rest. It IS OK. The world will not stop turning if I sit down and relax. I know these feelings centre around guilt. Guilt for not doing ‘enough…’ The idea that there is always something to be done. Housework, studying, reading, bathing the dog, visiting family, educating the kids… the list is endless… It is exhausting.

I actually welcomed lock down with open arms. Not the pandemic, the fear, the virus, the grim bits. I welcomed the slowness. The idea of not being able to do all the things I felt I needed to do. It has made me massively re-evaluate how I go about life. I am certainly learning that life is too short to give too much of a damn about how clean my house is.

My life always has and always will centre around family and love. I surround myself with the people I love for a reason. They make me feel good. I have learnt hard and fast that having negative people around you is a bad path to follow, I have let them go.

That’s all for now, remember to drink lots of water.

Make Everything OK

I have an innate desire to make everything better. I want to help people, care for people, heal people. I don’t think I’m Ghandi or some shit, I just think people are put on this planet to love, nurture and support one another.

There is a LOT of bad in the world right now, there has been for a long time. Just off the top of my head I think Covid-19, black people being shot for nothing, the leader of the USA causing utter fucking chaos. I’m in the UK and these worldwide/American problems reach this far, too. It really shakes me.

I guess part of my anxiety is worrying over so many things. Generally things I cannot control, things I will never have control over. So I should just stop, right? I wish I could. So MUCH. I know I can’t change the racist, xenophobic views of the President but I firmly believe being part of world that does nothing is WRONG.

I try to be as vocal as possible about current affairs and things I see as wrong-doings. I see this as one of my positive attributes (see the positive affirmations is working!!). I do this, knowing that my impact is minute. Despite this, I like to think of fighting for what is right as having the ‘domino effect.’ If I can change one persons’ negative views, they could influence others.

The book I am reading discussed something similar, about changing people’s views. It said that in some cases you just cannot convince some people that your way is the ‘right’ way. You need to let them go! This is something I am going to practice. I have often gotten into debates with people about politics, nature, flat earth… the list is endless… and some people will listen. Some, however, will not accept that their view point is skewed, despite being given evidence to the contrary.

I need to learn to let them go.

On the more personal side of life, trying to help people is second nature to me. I will always do my best to make sure people are OK. Unfortunately this has become detrimental to my mental health, this has been part of the reason I have felt overwhelmed and overstretched. During therapy, it was suggested that I start to put myself first.

That is a difficult concept to somebody with two children and older family members to care for. I am trying this; I am finding it very hard. I see time relaxing as wasted time. I feel I always have to be on the go, doing something to help someone else.

It’s going to be a slow process learning more positive behaviours – I will get there 🙂 xo

Purposeful Writing

The idea of this blog is to use writing as a cathartic tool. I want to be able to question things and write them down. I want to use is it a mechanism to aid my recovery. I believe it helps.

I’m not writing posts with the intention of becoming a blogger, I’m not writing to share with friends, I’m not writing because I want to discuss anything with anyone. I’m doing it for me. I think it will be useful to look back throughout the weeks, to see how far I have come. To potentially answer some of the questions I have asked.

You see mental health recovery isn’t a linear process. It is fraught with ups and downs. I can have a really good day; achieving many things and feel powerful. The next day can be a shambles. I know in the grand scheme of things the great days are building me up each time, creating a foundation for stronger mental health. I am lucky that I can see that now – as in the past I couldn’t.

Whilst reading a mind management book and during therapy sessions recently – I have realised that I have to WORK at myself to get better. When I started my sessions I expected someone to come in and just fix me. That was incredibly naive of me. This is down to me.

I have learnt that past trauma’s cause a lot of the negative behaviours that I demonstrate when having a particularly bad day.

I have also learnt that if I want to get better, I need to recognise when my resources are low.

I have learnt I have to start to love myself (work in progress – current progress….. 10%? 15%? Too low, regardless)

I have learnt that to help others I first must help myself.

I have learnt that to fully recover from trauma I have to understand it/make sense of it then let it go (very difficult, also work in progress!)

I have learnt that I know myself better than anyone else does.

I have learnt to understand my negative thoughts a little better.

I have learnt to set boundaries and say NO.

And the biggest lesson I have learnt is that I am not TRYING to get better. I am succeeding. I am seeing the differentiation between having a bad day and having a bad life. I am beginning to look at things in a more positive light. I am succeeding.

There is certainly a long way to go. I have a lot of things I do not understand yet. I am learning.

Practising Positive Affirmations

During a chat with a friend about mental health, she suggested writing positive affirmations daily.

Three nice things about myself – every… single… day!? It is SO hard.

I have an automatic response to regularly beat myself up, despite what I achieve. I’ll be honest it annoys the fuck out of me – but I still do it! Say for example; I complete a piece of work that achieves a really high score; I will still focus on the one grammatical error that is pointed out.

I am having to slowly train my brain to stop myself doing this. I know it isn’t going to be easy; particularly when I have a bad day.

A great deal of my therapy centres around the way I treat myself.

I am often told of my hypocritical positioning. I would never dream of treating others the way I treat myself; it’s harsh. So why do I do it to myself!!?? I’m certainly a hypocrite. It is years of self inflicted torment that I am trying to undo. Positive affirmations are only one small portion of this.

So I am trying it! I am a week into my positive affirmations. It’s actually quite lovely. I forgot what I had wrote on the first few days, so I just flicked back and it made me smile. I am super hopeful that continuing to do this will give me a book full of amazing things about myself.

I’m guessing that doing this alongside therapy will hopefully change my outlook and perceptions about myself. I hate that I treat myself this way; I would be devastated if my children did this to themselves. A habit can be broken. Taking tiny baby steps!!

Social Media Control

The number one reason I deleted Facebook: my mental health.

I was suffering. The constant negativity. The inaccuracies about current affairs. The pandemic. The bitching. The arguing. The ‘I’m doing better than you’ bullshit.

I deleted it to protect myself. I am vulnerable right now, more so back then – but it still remains.

At first I felt I was missing out, that feeling slowly dissipated. I decided that if people wanted to know what’s going on with me, they can get in touch – old school. This has actually helped build relationships with family members!

I logged on today to download my photo’s and videos – I have found it really hard not having access to photo’s, particularly as one of my therapy sessions included selecting 3 photo’s from the past!! (I had to call on my best friend to send some over.)

I’m so pleased I have got access to the photographs and videos now, lot’s of lovely memories and silly moments.

The first thing I noticed when I logged in was the top post on my news feed. A friend talking about the buebonic plague. I mean – fucking hell – that is not what I need right now. I didn’t read it properly; it vaguely debunked myths about the new plague hysteria.

I am all for people debunking myths, I really am. However, I found this behaviour is what led to my ‘downfall’ in social media land. I was constantly chasing people trying to educate them about the inaccuracies they posted. No, I wasn’t a member of the grammar police, I’m not one of them… I mean fake news, bad sources and sharing bullshit claims.

A lot of it at the time centred around the British public’s initial reaction to Covid-19. People became hysterical – making up stories and sharing ‘articles’ that had no factual content. This led me to have a severe panic attack during and after a regular appointment for therapy.

Other posts focused on race, religion and ethnicity. Now, bear in mind that I take pride in my close circle of friends – they are good people. I don’t associate with racists – but some people do. For example; a friend would post a killer article about the plight of refugees. I love that, educating their followers with a news feed full of beautiful accurate information. The problem I found was THEIR followers – commenting and trying to dissect things that were facts and when they failed, resorting to racism and xenophobia.

When I Initially deleted my account, I convinced myself it was because of the bad things happening; Covid, racism, sexism etc.

After a few months of reflection I realise it is not the subject matter of these things that cause me the problems. It is the way people use information and twist, contort and change it to suit their ideals.

I have learnt to search out the facts, educate myself and stop myself over-thinking by making assumptions. I love to learn about difficult topics, it is the only way I feel I can progress as a person.

I guess what I am trying to say is that I understand bad things happen and that they will affect me in one way or another. How I allow them to affect me is totally different though.

If I choose to read the bullshit posted on social media- I am part of the problem. If I choose to read from legitimate sources (not newspapers, folks) then I am allowing myself to develop. Then I get to choose if I am scared. I get to make that decision myself.

I suppose the outcomes of my experience are that;

-Reflection is really important. Always look back at where you were and see how you have developed.

-Allowing such a huge amount of information into your daily life can have dramatic consequences. I feel lighter since deactivation.

-Obtaining information from reputable sources – IE; people with lived experiences, scientists, non-biased news articles – is CRUCIAL to how you attach emotion to problems.

-I have SO much more time for myself and my family. I have time to reflect, to write, to clean more things, to walk more. That time used to be used exercising my thumb.

-If there is one bit of advice I can give it is – try! If you feel social media is a problem in your life and is dragging you down then deactivate for a while. It doesn’t have to be forever. I’m not completely social media free but I certainly choose my content wisely now – it is having a noticeable affect.

Reducing Medication?

Recently I have been wondering – do I need to take anti depressant and anti anxiety medication?

I know when I was prescribed these things I certainly needed them however this was years ago. I get a bi-monthly medication review which consists of the doctor calling me and asking if I am OK. That’s it. It seems a bit odd to me. Maybe it’s just easier to keep people medicated? Maybe I should ask to reduce my dose? I’m not sure.

It is a tricky subject because when you start to feel like you are coping or… ‘better’ then you would think it’s time for reducing medication. I have thought this for a while now because even though there is still A LOT of crap going on; I am certainly coping with it much better. But then I get anxious – how would I feel if I reduce the meds? Would I crash? Go back to square one? It’s really difficult to know.

I have been through the on/off cycle with medication before and I remember it all in a fairly hazy way. My brain seems to block bad memories out and leaves me with a blank space that has to piece together fuzzy thoughts. Last time I reduced my meds I felt great afterwards. I felt I had more energy – anti anxiety tablets made me slightly drowsy and relaxed my muscles a little too much. I started to disbelieve the need to medicate for a short while.

Oddly, the anxiety medication helped relieve migraine symptoms also (a major cause for my anxiety – the thought of getting a migraine makes me anxious – lovely!) With that in mind the doctor upped my prescription and told me to take them until further notice. This routine is still with me, it is every day. I am genuinely terrified of stopping this routine as I feel my migraines and anxiety will trigger each other and cause a downward spiral.

So that is the anxiety stuff, I am keen to keep on it for now until I find a better solution for my migraines.

So on to the anti depressants. I take Citalopram. It’s a common drug used to treat depression and low mood. When I began taking this I felt I needed it. I felt that suicidal thoughts would no go away until I started taking something to alter my thought patterns – it worked. Now I am not saying these tablets should be used as a quick fix as this lasted months and took a while to take an effect.

I guess now I am feeling that I am able to control my mood better and recognise the depressive patterns and symptoms before they escalate too much, yet I still worry about reducing medication. I suppose it has become a crutch, a coping mechanism. Something that I am afraid to let go of until I feel ‘ready.’ I’m really worried I’ll never feel ready.

Intrusive Thoughts

Whilst chatting with a friend, she revealed that everyone has intrusive thoughts. I found that hard to believe, some people seem far too level headed for that shit.

So I spent a little time researching it and apparently it is true – nearly everyone will have experienced intrusive thoughts at some point in their life.

You see the idea of the thoughts is not that you want to harm, hurt or do anything bad – it’s just a thought. It’s not an action. There is no intent behind it.

When I experience intrusive thoughts- I panic. I feel like a complete nut case and wonder what the fuck my head is doing to me. I had them so often at one point that I continually that I thought I was losing my mind.

I’ve mentioned in previous blogs that I had post natal depression and anxiety. During that time the intrusive thoughts were so intense that I would feel debilitated. A simple trip to the shops would end in panic attacks. Bus journeys would send my anxiety through the roof. People talking to my baby – no! I felt like everyone was a threat.

The problem with these thoughts is that when I look back, I know they are completely irrational (that majority of the time!) and I know that my brain is thinking them because ultimately I want to protect my babies. That being said; when I am in the full throes of a panic attack there is absolutely no way I can use that rationale. It is just not possible.

Apparently it is something to do with fight or flight, the adrenaline, the brain preparing you for potential conflict. It’s a useful tool to have, it’s just a shame it is something that massively clouds judgement and ‘normal’ behaviour.

During my research, I learnt that intrusive thoughts can be particularly bad for a person with OCD. This is something my therapist has suggested I may be suffering from – we are going to look into it when my sessions come to a close. That could explain the severity of the intrusive thoughts and could provide some insight as to why they can feel so debilitating.

I am now learning to accept these intrusive thoughts, allow them in but not let them take a hold. It is really fucking hard. There are days I just can’t do that. But the good days are outweighing the bad at the moment, so I am certainly achieving something.

Mental Health Influenced by Fiction

I’m a big reader. I love to read. Mainly fiction books with the occasional autobiography thrown in for good measure.

My therapist recommends reading as a tool to calm myself. I literally have to sit down and relax when I open a book – I suppose it’s quite tricky reading whilst trying to mop the kitchen floor! I agree, it’s a useful tool. It encourages me to sit still and re-shift my focus onto something else that isn’t based on my anxieties/problems of the day.

Whilst I find that useful, it also strikes me that the content I am reading should have an impact on how I am feeling. I enjoy reading thrillers, crime novels, police procedural books – that kind of thing. The general theme for these books is death – something I am very much afraid of- and uncertainty. Over the months in therapy sessions, it has been realised I have a massive aversion to uncertainty. I hate not being prepared for every eventuality. Reading these books instils a massive feeling of uncertainty; the whole ‘who dunnit’ vibes that push the story along, the not knowing until the last chapter.

The majority of my therapy sessions centre around aversion to uncertainty and the theme of me being afraid of dying or leaving my children behind; or something happening to my close family. It is a real fear for me, a massive subject that sparks my anxiety.

Weirdly though, I can sit and read hundreds of pages a week about death and all the things that come with it and it doesn’t make me flinch. Some descriptive scenes can make me wince slightly but as it is a character it doesn’t have the same impact on me. Or so I like to think.

I noticed that I struggle massively when watching programmes with intense story lines. I have stopped watching soap operas due to the dramatic, negative feelings that bring to my living room. I also have to choose what I watch carefully, dependant on my mood. If I have had a hard day, I cannot sit and watch something sad that can potentially trigger negative thoughts.

Over the last few months, I have tried to keep track of my feelings after reading a particularly rough story line. I figured my brain may react the same way it does to the TV programmes.

I’m finding it difficult. If I need to relax – I choose a book over TV. I sit in the bath and read. Whilst I find the process of reading relaxing, the content does appear to have an affect on my mood. Some days it will not bother me at all, but others it will make me feel anxious. Checking the doors are locked, checking on my children more, calling my mum to check she is OK.

I have had this problem with social media. During tough times in the world (Covid, elections, BLM protests etc) I have really struggled comprehending a lot of online content. I have deleted my Facebook account as I find some articles too triggering yet the desire to continue scrolling and delving deeper was too strong. It took a while to get over that and not ‘want’ to look on Facebook anymore.

I suppose at the moment in time, I am trying to recover from a mental health crisis. My brain is very fragile and can react to stimulus in different ways. I don’t feel it would be healthy to completely block any negative stimuli, for example; a ban on books, social media etc. I think that would be counterproductive. I am unsure HOW to deal with it though. I monitor what I watch on TV, I can control how long I spend on social media or what platforms I choose to use.

I COULD choose not to pick a book up – but I really enjoy reading. I could choose a different genre of writing but I think I would lose the passion for reading; I find other stuff hard to read. Maybe the only solution is to read when I feel OK? Sometimes though, the process of picking up a book and relaxing is what MAKES me feel OK.

It’s a tricky situation to be in. I don’t want to completely cut myself off from anything I enjoy; I was happy to do it with social media. It felt cathartic. I want to keep my books for now!!

Am I Making Myself Depressed?

I have learnt the difference between depression and depressive mood. Depression, generally, is a constant state of low mood. Depressive mood can fluctuate between positive mood and depressed mood.

I have been diagnosed as depressed. I am medicated for that.

It has really got me thinking. I -although diagnosed with depression – am generally a happy person. I find the beauty in the small things in life, I love intensely, I enjoy doing things and being around my favourite people. All these things – in my opinion – equate to happiness (I know this is measured on vast scales and differs from person to person but.. stick with me.)

I have good days and I have bad days. I experience the range of emotions that the majority of humans do – anger, disgust, surprise, contempt, happiness, sadness and fear.

I firmly believe I have not been equipped with the knowledge or resources to know how to deal with these emotions, until I sought help from a therapist. I rejected the idea that I deserved to be happy. I punished myself for achievements. I thought I was stupid and not worthy. This could be construed as depression, as the feeling of worthlessness overrides practical thoughts, yet I don’t think it is.

Punishing myself has always been my ‘go to’ emotion. I presume this is an effect of the trauma of bullying. The therapist informed me that learned behaviours – compulsions – like this are very hard to change, though not impossible. I suppose the reason for writing this down is to remind myself that this behaviour is not forever.

All of this leads me to think that maybe I am not suffering from depression? I may have been conditioned to believe so. If I can be happy at times then depressive mood may take over and swoop in, causing me to believe I am depressed. I don’t know. I’m not doctor, it’s just an idea.

Society is quick to give something a name or a label. I was happy to discover that I had depression! Not because I wanted it but because I could finally put a name to these feelings and find a cure (ha). Now that I am 15 years down the line, I recognise my naivety to thinking there was a quick fix.

Now don’t get me wrong, I am not negating the doctor’s that diagnosed me (multiple times). I am sure they had their reasoning. I filled out forms and answered questions which obviously pointed to ‘depression.’ It’s just the idea that it is something less ‘permenant’ has struck a chord with me.

The two may seem much of a muchness, but to me depression is an all-consuming illness that takes over and swamps your mind and body. I don’t feel that every day. When I do feel it, it hits hard – but this is the same for the positive feelings I have too.

So I do ponder… am I making myself depressed? Has this diagnosis/label caused me to believe I am much worse than I really am? It’s possible. I am not underplaying the shit I have been through. Every part of this ‘journey’ has been valid and pretty fucking traumatic, I am just trying to see things from a different perspective for now. I am certainly going to think about this a lot more over the course of the next few weeks.

Standing Out

Therapy last week consisted of me being made aware that there are points in my life where I have experienced trauma and how they link to my cycles of depression.

We looked back to the ‘start’ of my depressive episodes, pin-pointing high school bullying as the catalyst to the majority of my negative feelings. I was asked if I had experienced depression during primary school to which I responded that no, I was happy. The question altered slightly. Had I experienced any trauma in primary school? I thought back to a time that has always stuck in my mind.

At the beginning of the conversation I said I remember the event as clear as day, despite it being over 20 years ago. The process of talking about these events meant people, feelings and thoughts were described, along with the general idea of the situation. I shared information about a childhood encounter with a slightly older boy, who followed me and watched me repeatedly at school during break times. I felt under surveillance and very scared.

What happened that day has never struck me as relevant to my current situation, however, throughout the years I have thought about the event multiple times – recalling that I felt incredibly uncomfortable.

The therapist highlighted that this event must have evoked a strong feeling to be recalled so easily, which rang true. He had asked me to recall my first day at school. I couldn’t. My first pair of shoes. I couldn’t. The reasoning behind this is that the negative memory of the boy following me was more than likely my first real feeling of fear.

I was then asked to find the person in question and tell him how it has affected me. I suggested that was a ridiculous idea. The therapist presses on. Why? Why is it ridiculous? This person made you feel uncomfortable. Why not go and tell him? My response was that it wouldn’t be a very ‘adult’ thing to do, that it’s a bit silly.

Is it?

When I reflect on this- after the conversation – I realise the therapist’s point. It isn’t silly, maybe I could find some closure? (Despite this – I would never find the guy!!) I think about similar situations – I hate the idea of being watched, I constantly feel like I am being followed when walking in public, I don’t like people walking directly behind me in case they grab me.

The link may be tenuous and have no relevance. There have been similar situations as an adult – being followed from the train station, having a customer continually watch me through racks of clothes, day in day out. These could prove more relevant and to have shown greater impact with my anxiety. Simply being a woman could be the reason I feel anxious when in this position – we are constantly made to feel we have to watch our backs, protect ourselves, be vigilant – classic victim blaming. Anyway, I digress. Is it an acceptable thing to go and find those who have done you wrong, express how you have been affected by their behaviours?

In this situation I think no, this guy was a child at the time. He didn’t know the affect he was going to have on me. Then I push forward. High school, a time of great trauma for me. Surely these bullies should be held accountable for their actions? They were much older – around 14, 15. It took me years to find the answer to this and it is simply; no.

They should not be held accountable. If you would have asked me this during the events; the answer would be the complete opposite. I wanted revenge, I wanted to fuck them up so bad. I used to day-dream that I would react to them, hit them, make their lives hell. I never did.

I sometimes wish I had done, just to see what had happened. Despite that, I never wanted to hurt anyone, I just wanted them to feel how I did for one minute so they knew what they were doing. I built a wall during that time, a tough exterior. I became the funny one that would let shit bounce off me. I became rougher around the edges and I pushed people away who wanted to get close for a very long time; a way to protect myself.

I refer back to my actions during my teenage years. I didn’t always make the greatest decisions. If I had been held accountable for every misdemeanour I had partook in; I would be a completely different person now. This makes me consider the age of consent, another reason why I believe those people shouldn’t be held accountable. Consent laws are in place to protect vulnerable people – children. And yes, I know they don’t seem vulnerable when they are kicking the shit out of the geek or throwing eggs at the goth kid – yet the fact still remains.

After all of this – I find myself asking WHY has it taken me over 15 years to come to a conclusion about this? Experience? Forgiveness? Motherhood? Age? Maybe a combination of those? I don’t know. This isn’t really a complete conclusion anyway, it is just a collection of thoughts and questions.

I can’t profess that I have fully forgiven some people within all of this, because I haven’t. The issues it created within me have affected my life since and continue to do so. I am trying to understand though, I really am.

Being a teenager in a rough school is tough – I know that. I had the bravery (or stupidity?) to stand out and be an individual and I got thrown to the wolves.