Tomorrow is day one

I have been on and off anti-depressants for three years. Recently I decided to come off them, for good.

There are practical ways of managing mental health: GPs and other smug advice articles recommend exercise, eating well and being kind to yourself. They all make it sound easy.

The UK Government struggles to acknowledge that some people wake up everyday, full of anxiety, doom and the overwhelming thought "I am going to die, something bad is going to happen". 1-4 British adults experience one diagnosable problem in any one year: Clegg, Cameron, Milliband and Farage...we could play guess who.

When these thoughts become too overbearing, the first port of call, naturally, is the nearest GP. I have a two minute conversation with a blank faced Doctor in a yellow stained office. I am told to scribble on a Generalised Anxiety Disorder Questionnaire (GAD-7) and a Patient Health Questionnaire (PHQ-9). After a quick check over my medical history, the survey results are summarised (anything over ten out of 30, and GPs have to be concerned) I am prescribed with Selective Serotonin Re-uptake Inhibitors (SSRIs) and a two month waiting list for Cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT). In the short term these drugs have stopped me from doing something stupid to myself, I'm in a safe box I used to call it, and they have made time for me to heal. Whilst chemically supported I am nagging at myself that it feels like there is no 'normal' for those that suffer with ill mental health (not saying we are exclusively different to everyone else in the world) though in this case it does feel like you question 'being normal' a little bit more. Are we ever 'cured'? GPs cannot simply prescribe for ill mental health; what works for one person doesn't necessarily help another individual. What is normal mental health these days? Normal feels like such a dirty word, yet we are living in a society where the waiting list is forever growing for practical treatment, talking therapies. 1 in 5 people have been waiting over a year to receive treatment. I have been waiting since July this year for CBT. It looks like we're all popping pills until the waiting list shrinks down (check out page 7 for the economic costs of ill mental health).

For years my GP has convinced me that there are no long term side affects from taking SSRIs. However having been on and off them for three years I do not feel comfortable taking a pill to make me 'happy' (it doesn't), I guess it just makes me feel safe and less scared of myself. In conversation with Kings College Hospital professionals, they revealed that SSRIs are also prescribed to males that suffer from premature ejaculation, naming sertraline (or ironically, its brand name Lustral) to aid this. Though there may not be any 'long term' side affects, it makes me feel vulnerable that other parts of the body could take a hit from popping brain pills (perhaps to some, that might seem completely obvious).

GPs also prescribe some SSRIs to aid the symptoms of Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS). It's not officially approved to use for treating IBS, though it has been found to have a positive effect. A large number of individuals suffering from depression also experience symptoms of IBS. The gut has been nicknamed the 'second' brain, as such; nerve cells communicate to each other through neurotransmitters, so if your brain isn't feeling particularly fun, these facts make it easier to understand the link between your mood and your stomach's behaviour. Sertaline has enabled me to eat like a 'normal' person (there's that dirty word again). IBS still holds a stigma and some assume that those who suffer are running back and forth to the toilet shitting their brains out after every meal. That just isn't true and there isn't a one way path to explain it. At least the plus side of taking an SSRI is that I have been able to eat without being in pain. Everyday hasn't been about food, I am less tired and my thoughts aren't encompassed around getting the right five a day and whether I can eat bread. I feel lucky that at least sertraline has helped one problem. Since I am not in pain, bloated and without a 'food baby' (even after eating a mouthful) my personal body image has improved, for example I am able to wear fitted clothes again. There's always more to it and one should not have to feel nervous before eating, just in case those stomach pains kick in again. It feels like your body is giving up way too soon, you feel out of control. Food has become less about guilt in the last year. At least that's one way of relieving myself of stress.

I guess when it comes to popping pills for mental health, it is a matter of life or death. After all we have two months or more to wait until we can see a therapist. GPs may tell you it's a 6 week wait. Who are we to trust, the Doctor? I visited the GP before Christmas 2013, talking through gritted tears I asked for a quick fix. In respect to the GP I saw, she was reluctant to give me Diazepam (or more widely known as Valium) since it is addictive and patients can experience withdrawal symptoms. The GP remained reluctant to give it to me, I felt clever and emotionally broken talking about how I felt, the desire for things to just seem 'quiet' in my head. The GP clocked my handbag and the M&S bag sitting next to it. I wonder whether she was looking for booze. Her words, you seem like a responsible person, I'll give you a low dose of Diazepam it's two weeks worth, it's quite a beautiful feeling actually when taking it, it's addictive, don't take it with alcohol...

I smiled to myself. I went in there and got what I wanted. It was too easy. I continued to explain that I had tried the low dose of 2mg before and it didn't do much, at least the GP didn't budge on that and handed me a prescription for Diazepam and the usual case of Sertraline since I had taken it before and it had been affective. Off I trot, scared, curious and angry. She also handed over a few websites on paper: Patient UK, Living Life To The Full. When the door closed I imagine she ticked a mental checkbox and continued her day. There was no mention of a talking therapy, a waiting list. Nothing.

This has happened too many times before, I said to myself. So I took my life into my own hands.

10 months later I decided to come off Setraline for good. When I started writing this article I hadn't gone cold turkey, you can't. Doctors recommend that the daily dose is cut down by half over a long period of time. For me I have always been wary of taking a high dose so I have kept myself to a satisfactory 50mg since my first major breakdown three years ago. Thinking about it, I can still taste the dry mouth, spacey days in the sun and a blissful indifference to just keep going. Cutting down over two months has allowed me to adjust, time without the crutch, time to accept who I am exactly and how my body works on less medication.
 

There are a few friends who know the true extent of my ill mental health experiences. Many might be surprised to hear that there were times when I just wanted to switch off, to 'end it', though not to die but to sleep for a really long time until things got better again. Life doesn't work that way and so I am getting practical. Running, yoga, putting positive energy into my career, going for things in the moment and being present; I have trained myself and I feel so good for it. Doing this for myself is so much better than taking any kind of pill. It is about taking simple steps on a ladder, an infinite ladder. Of course, there are still pangs of self doubt and not knowing whether my mood one day is just simply because I'm pissed off, or whether it's because I need my 'brain pills'. I may take a few steps down the ladder and be where I was a year ago. But I will get back up again.

There are some people out there that might even use my mental health against me, 'are you feeling like this because you are changing your dose', 'make sure you take your pill today, don't be emotional'. I'd put that in the same context when someone comes back at you, being female, and they question whether your mood is because you're on your period. It's such a kick in the teeth and is unfortunately the taboo of mental health, we all give it the stigma. For the first time in my life I trust myself and it's the lightest I have ever felt.

I am so ready. Bring it on!

Mental health awareness week

This week has shown me how much I’ve been frazzled in panic for the past few weeks- frozen, because I didn’t really know what was going on with me until now. I became a jarred juxtaposition of thoughts. I scared myself. Last week was an explosion of self time, I didn’t realise how worked up I got over running 15k, setting my own goals amongst too much added pressure. Too much saturated ‘fat’ if you like!

 

I hit my goal. That was nice and so this week the tension has reeled away. Now there’s time for rest and today I begin my holiday. Family time, tea and cake. I can’t wait to wake up when there's no rush, no deadlines and just easy ‘retired’ life.

 

My crutch- food. Energy. Fuel to stay awake. Weird because I’d say most of the time I eat for pleasure. Perhaps when certain parts of your personality start to fade it’s time to recognise when you need a break. When you find yourself trying to take time out just by hiding in the loo for reflection, it’s time to change.

 

This week has been mental awareness week and I am so proud and chuffed to see so many people and organisations coming on board. Once the general public start to recognise depression and anxiety as a chemical imbalance, compared to something you have to ‘pull yourself together’ to fix, the ‘taboo’ will start to fade.

 

I feel this taboo not only comes from the media but within us. Experiencing such confusion over our emotions is half the battle with mental illness. A large part of us always trying to convince ourselves we are ‘ok’ and are ‘just being silly’. It’s too easy to say these words over and over in our heads. You might find yourself in a weeks’ time, with a box of painkillers by your side, trying to conjure a stress headache away whilst your hands are covering your eyes. Sit down!

 

I sometimes refer to myself as a whirlwind because I’ve been called this in the past due to my hyper personality and visceral desire to say out loud even the simplest of thoughts I endure. At present I find the whirlwind can be a bit of a worry since I associate it as an anxiety spell, alongside pure excitement and happiness. I say ‘sit down’, in a quiet room because it’s ‘tricks’ like these which allow you to recognise moments of stress, panic and that heavy feeling when you don’t want to get out of bed, because you might just be starting to lose yourself too.

 

For me change triggers everything. It ranges from the simplest of emotions, even feeling happy triggers it. Lately I’ve had to adapt to allowing myself to enjoy the positive emotions I’m now experiencing. I even have to reassure myself they aren’t suddenly going to disappear. It’s a shame traumatic experiences have encouraged this, though the main thing is now I’m able to embrace the good stuff, whereas old habits would have focussed on the lesser positives and continued to trap myself in an all too familiar grey world. During this ‘trap’ I’d even push those who care about me, away – I didn’t want to talk to anyone and would lock myself up in my safety room. The huge irony was, once I’d left the house and had met eyes with the public and my friends, facing the world didn’t seem so scary after all and I was able to cope with myself and the company of others better than before. It was a strange feeling, like slowly taking the plaster off, dragging out the pain, but once it was off everything looked a little clearer and a bit more manageable. Depression and anxiety is not about cure but at least management and recognition of early warning signs.

More to come soon on my experience of treatment...

A project to make you feel good

I'm lucky enough to be a restless slot filler, the cogs are turning and I click, click from one thing to another online. My mind bursts with information and images - I'm tired, I get headaches and my shoulders are hunched up and sore.

Today I came across a video I once saw tweeted by one of my favourite blogs, I discovered when becoming part of the blogging community myself. Fit Foodie Finds. For over two years, Lee has inspired me to eat healthy, exercise and maintain a positive mind. Not only does she photograph food beautifully (some of you in Britain may snigger at this), she highlights nutritious aspects since it's not all about food porn, food fuels your mind as well.

Since my blog is about mental health, diet and an active lifestyle are far more important than the odd sneer or eye roll over who writes what and the pictures you post. I too am, now I was going to say guilty, yet I feel proud to take pictures of my food or any other adventure - why on earth would I want to take this moment of happy away? I'm the dick that carries around two iphones (work and personal) but at least I'm the dick that can laugh about it too amongst all the snaps I take; ranging from breakfast shots, photos after a sweaty run or mirror shots of my favourite outfit. I'd like to highlight I'm finally capturing moments of happy compared to the lack of photos that weren't taken whilst I was a teenager; an image too bleak and scribbled out I would rather not remember.

For a few weeks now I've been walking around as if a blurry cloud has been following me. I've realised that something has felt wrong, I'm not used to feeling good and things working out. I've been filling in slots of time with whatever I could get my hands on when in fact I should have been spending time filling those slots with empty. I think I've forgotten myself a bit and have even snapped a few times at certain things which in a larger picture are really quite small.

I took some time out for myself tonight, I cleaned, I cooked, I ran a bath and after tv bedtime slobbery I dug out a link from Lee herself. Please watch this video and it will help you look in the mirror. The quote which gets me the most is the part when a girl says 'we spend a lot of time as women analysing and trying to fix the things which aren't quite right, and we should spend more time appreciating the parts we do like'.

When I get into my ruts I build a sand storm in my head of 'why won't this work' or 'it's just not quite perfect'. It applies to all aspects of my life when In fact I just need to sit back, breath and take note of what I do have in front of me. I still find it hard to believe that someone wants me. I find it more surprising that someone I want wants me back. I have a friend who feels the same way about our friendship and it's heartbreaking to see her pain and struggle to accept herself, it's like a light is in the room but she can't see it.

Still, I'm trying to use my feelings and experiences for positive impact, as much as they might not make sense to others, they may shock some people and push them further away than I'd like. Either way, whether male or female, watch the video and give yourself a break.

Stephen charm

'When you're paying attention you know and when you stop paying attention you don't know anything. Even life is like that. Bob Lefsetz, in his recent newsletter, talked about the mess made by ambition. He said we should stop waiting to be chosen. That's not how it works. Someone was telling me about her successful friends and how she felt like a failure because everyone she knew was publishing. I said I look in front of me and I'm the only one that's never gotten a decent book advance. But, if I look behind me I see a lot of people who can't finish books, or get them published. Or they publish but their book doesn't get read. The point is simply that it's about where you focus. You can focus on people who have more than you, and be bitter, or those who have less and realize how lucky you are.'

Deliveries

I've been silently cracking up lately and I put it down to several things:

A lack of writing
A lack of creativity
Too much sugar
A lack of communication

The communication part is interesting since all I seem to be doing is communicating, whether it’s at work, with friends, new relationships and trying to maintain old ones. I’ve been spinning too many plates and as a result I’ve forgotten about communicating with myself, especially with this blog. The simple reminders have gone out the window. I’ve spoken of my ‘list’ far too many times and it took until last Thursday for me to officially write it down by hand in my ‘tree’ book. It had been saved on my mobile ‘notes’ page for over a month.

There’s a part of me that gets wrapped up in an frustrated bubble when everything seems to be heading my way at once and it seems like it all relies on me to fix. At least one part of my life I’m getting better at is standing my ground and putting my foot down to accusations of ‘why can’t you be more like this’. I can finally appreciate that communication works both ways. For example, I still panic and think ‘oh shit’ when I haven’t text someone back, it’s all too easy to read a text and put the phone down, yet it feels like I’ve replied because that message or person is on my mind for most of the day. I constantly think of the next step when in fact I just need to switch off and let things be. If there was a way to summarise how my brain works it would look like a square room of colourful balls flying around at high speed, all at once whilst avoiding a clash with each other.

It’s manic and I can see your eyebrows rise.

I’d never wish for anyone to think I’ve forgotten about them, yet I do find I’m getting to a certain point where I have less patience for particular personal events which possess too much drama and attention. Of course it’s easier to judge from the sideline so how can you compose an answer for someone who, you care about and want to help yet, don’t want to push away altogether? Sometimes I can only compare to my life events/trauma and believe that if I can do it, so can you. I don’t feel like I can give anyone a chance anymore if I see little evidence in them trying. Sometimes it is a case of black and white.

The two quotes below come from one of my favourite writers, Stephen Elliot:

‘He likes to think of editing as something you do while having a cup of tea.’

‘Everyday, in fact, you have the opportunity to ruin everything, when you're trying to make art that moves people.’

I love the pure simplicity in both of them. The last one in particular appeals to me since I process so much in my head yet the simplest move could either ruin or make the most of each situation I endure. A highlight of appreciation towards attitude and patience – I’ve got somewhere and it’s flippin’ awesome.

Slurry

Better writing seems to come when there is a dirty slur involved.

Is this mania?

I don't know what this feeling is. It's not bad. It's not middle ground. It's a hyper-manic contentment.

My fears have changed. I'm no longer scared to talk about it, though it doesn't mean I'm going to look you in the eye. It doesn't mean later I won't feel like I need to sit down and put my head between my legs, and breathe. I'll always be scared you'll run away.

I'm not sure what this spectrum scale is, the ticking and whizzing almost blinding and exhilarating. I've just got to get better at switching it off without being obsessive. Management instead of control. Feel instead of distract. Lets comfortably sit in silence and it be silent instead of nee nawww sounds.

I'm the happiest I've ever been in my life and I think that's part of the problem. I'm just not used to it and I don't know whether to smile or cry. I'm tired of all the 'nutjob' labels and the newbies who judge can dooo one. I feel more courage from being open and myself about it, than hiding and seeming like the weird confusing girl that still always keeps it together.

The beauty is that I have kept it together, thumbs up to me! It feels like a big fuck you to the world and I love you too. I've achieved a lot. I have a very rough plan to keep it together now and live within the present year rather than years ahead. I thrive from being completely dependent on myself, it's all me (financially and even to the point of keeping it together). Over the last few months I've developed an extended family, friendships have developed and I've never felt less lonely in all my life.

I must make that 'together' list.

The one thing that still scares me the most is myself. This brain I occupy that makes me, me and people seem to like it. I get cake mix up my nose and I'm easily distracted. I am a Catherine wheel and only stop when sleeping. I now sleep the best I have in all my life. Insomnia is a distant memory. I choose to organise, I'm happy to say I make things happen. I do. I made it happen for myself. An opportunity lost is a moment where I kick myself, unless it was time to let go. I just can't give up on things, on people, it's so hard to go back on your word unless your stomach dips and faith disappears...you realise.

A friend once said to me 'you're always making excuses for people'. Finally now I understand I can't keep making excuses for people anymore. I believe this or I'll end up loosing myself.

I'm going to go for a run now, sometimes I don't want to stop because if I do I have to look at what's in front of me and sometimes it gets too much. It's a good thing because I see all of the amazing things I have and times I have in the future to look forward to. Before, it was a bleak dark impossible future where life seemed to exist only in an exaggerated black box in my head. I've got my things to keep me going, to keep me, me.

If that's the case then I can be there for you too.

Happy Easter x

Batty

I'm going to sound batty... though isn't that the point of raising awareness of mental health - less of the fear and being truthful with words? Fuck the failure and cease the consequence.

Here's something I wrote a few nights ago.

It's one of those nights when I can't sleep, but because I feel lucky. I lie in the dark and there's dancing in my eyes. I see arms swirling and movements peaceful, pounding to favourite sounds on my list. A feeling good, whilst trying to embrace without pushing it away.  Experimental and willing to give life a chance, It feels clear, It looks like colour which means I'm about to change.

I smile with truth instead of failure behind dark eyes. I can't deny anymore. An unblocked feeling that no longer seems so forever and ending.  Less of the panic and more appreciation.  I think of you, wherever you are - clouded.

I have to get up now

2014 is national anxiety year.

I remember a time when I would wake up and think 'oh my god I have to get up now'. It felt like a pile of bricks had fallen on my head. I was too afraid to move. Whilst In the shower I could see peaks of south east London popping through the window. There was a world out there about to eat me up. Anytime with myself was a nightmare. A voice, this voice- a constant 'something bad is going to happen', stomach in knots and fear that all I loved around me was going to disappear. This feeling continued everyday for months and months and months.

Do you know that feeling, a jolt you get when you're about to fall over? A game we played when 'hanging out' in our home town road was when we would stand on the edge of the kerb, eyes closed and our friend would tell a story. Eventually the man in the story would fall- at this point our friend would push us so when we stepped off the curb. It was as if we were falling down a 'cliff'. Anxiety feels like this for every minute of the day. Paranoid.

It's taken so long to manage. Even leaving the house for work became a chore, a dread. A 'I have to face the world today' sign that I had to do something about it or die. No-one can go on feeling like that forever, otherwise it might manifest into complicated side effects: alcoholism, OCD, eating disorders- anything to gain control.

We all have our ways, methods we use to cope with things. Perhaps anxiety is the bodies natural and strange way to keep us going- if we didn't have that would we shut down entirely to protect ourselves?

Anxiety and depression is a tricky thing, though whilst its happening please don't judge the person and think they need to pull it together. It's an illness hard to see, but once you understand it life can get clearer for all.

It's easier to judge. Harder to understand. I know which one I'd pick.

The disappearing act

I have been so naughty and haven't written properly for ages! I've been doing a disappearing act, but life is good. For a blog about mental health it might seem typical for me to say that, but it's important to point out when life is on the up.

Perhaps I'm a little whimsical, I don't want to fairy my words with idealised hope and I told you so's. Instead I would like to be honest and account the path I've created.

I'm feeling good and I have done for some time now. I feel strong, I have energy- my spirit is back. There are few moments now when I reflect on how sick I was, I think 'blimey was that even real?!' It's strange whilst I'm on the up, as there are others around me who, once coasting, are now on the down. I feel a responsibility which of course brings me back to CC. We never know where our path will turn, I'm feeling amazing now however there's no guarantee I will maintain this.

And how does that make me feel? Well, I've had help. I've sought help to encourage me to think differently. I've had time to heal. I think that there is still part of me, a padlock, keeping any sad thoughts about my mum away. I dread if I open that box fully It might never close. It's my ultimate fear to drop on the mind scale again. How many times can I manage feeling low before its too late? There's only so much one person can cope with.

People- just observing, talking and seeing others enjoy themselves has finally shown me it's there for me too, to be happy. Ive chosen practical ways to maintain my health. No 'in the moment' escapism. I've chosen health, as Ewan would say, choose life.

It's not easy. The higher you reach the further you must come down- but when you're already down a well, the up seems impossible.

Please, just don't hide. I've learned how to let people into my life, I've learnt not to be angry at them when I feel like I'm disappearing. Why? How? Because there is only one. You. If you feel dangerous-it's your responsibility. If you feel down it's your responsibility. I'm not saying you choose to be down but it's you who chooses to drink the wine instead of water to manage your feelings. I still have those days when I say 'oh my god I need a drink'. I still have (and enjoy) the comfort eating days, the eat little nervous, for control days, the routine I can't break out of days and the days when my brain is so tired I forget appointments and confusion overwhelms me.

We aren't perfect, but as human beings we have the right to enjoy our lives whilst we're still here. The vision I hold onto is celebration. Party. For me they capture the ultimate, the essence of why we are here. To live, endure, communicate and enjoy what we have around us. No hiding. No boundaries. Simply enjoying and seeing enjoyment. No alternative motives. Just fun and having a good time- why not?

Times are changing

This morning I woke up in a panic. I woke up at 9am.

It felt like a miracle. To sleep in that long on a Saturday is a luxury, usually I wake hours earlier.

An ounce of coffee sent me flying this morning, I thought I was sensitive to the caffeine. A marvelous friend was staying with me and whilst I was running about the flat saying 'I feel all arghhhruuhhhh' whilst wiggling my hands in front of myself, she said 'maybe you're just happy?!'

That was exactly it. I felt panic because it was Saturday. I felt lucky to have a weekend. I felt lucky to wake up and wonder what to do with the day. It felt light, it felt open, it felt very please yourself. I'm a restless nightmare but lately I've got a lot better at sitting down, staying still and just saying 'ahhhh'. It's felt so good to relax! I've slobbed in front of the tv, I've eaten a lot of chocolate (currently eating a chocolate Lindt Santa as I type :) ) and I'm able to eat whatever the hell I want without physically being in pain. Life is becoming a lot stress free. WOW!

It's almost like discovering food for the very first time, things were once black and white and now they are saturated with colour. Textures and smells zing and come alive - I'm not distracting myself as much anymore. My action plans are working and things are on the up. Today I began Christmas shopping and even bought a couple of mini things for myself: a £2 lipstick, hair grips and hair spray - silly things which actually make you feel awesome and 'ooo I'll try that' often makes a difference to your day. I walked around without my head phones, I wasn't trying to block out the world. Exploring around the shops I felt at leisure - I cannot wait to pass these gifts on once the day comes!

Later a few friends and I are going out for drinks in Brixton Dogstar. I can't wait to have a shower, put some great music on, I'm going to sing about the flat, make some stupid faces in the mirror and have fun arranging clothes and make up for the evening. It's going to be so nice to have a giggle and a dance :D

Enjoy your Saturday

p.s I just bit Santa's head off

Tips for a comfortable run

1. Stretch
2. Blow your nose
3. Wash your face
4. Clean your teeth
5. Lube your lips (lip balm!)
6. Tunes!
7. Run in clothes which make you feel good
8. Go to the toilet just before you run...
9. Keys and other essential items strapped in place (headphones, phone, running app switched on)
10. Enjoy!

A face of hope

I'm trying not to feel silly as I write this. I suppose every post I write about mental health I have to make sure I don't feel silly. I'm going to write through the heartbreak and the voice which convinces me that no-one is going to listen.

One voice I'd like to have more of is that little voice inside my head encouraging me to make a mess on the page. It's the one which, out of no-where, urges me to write thousands of words down amongst the millions of thoughts which pitter patter in my mind. I need to be a face.

Most of the time I'm frozen to the spot by my thoughts, lately they've been of excitement and happiness. I'm also frozen by fear, hopelessness and overwhelment. However, my intentions and what I intend to achieve are never going to be real If I continue to trap myself in a mind circle. I quite easily convince myself that this box is right- it's only when I step out of it I realise I was so so wrong. I repeat this same mistake over and over again.

I must put more ideas down, I must speak up. I think deep down I'd like to become a face, a sign of hope, a voice, a representative. I want to do more in the name of mental health and If I don't stand up for this 'taboo', who will?!

There are several tips and methods I try to follow when there are good days and when there are bad. The ways I try to follow to put less pressure on myself. Instincts. Lesser the mind battles. Something I've been doing for quite some time is capturing, what some could accuse as looking for attention... Though, for me taking pictures of myself on the good days really help. I'm not looking for comments and most of the time I store them away for no-one else to see. Sometimes I take pictures on the bad days-these happen less often because if you are dealing with depression or other mental health conditions, it's rare you want to see yourself looking sad. Most of the time you feel too ugly anyway. I've got a picture I found today which I took of me on my 23rd birthday. I've also got a picture I took on the year anniversary my mum died. I glance back at the physical changes, whether weight has fluctuated (comfort eater number 1!) and if I can see signs of stress in other physical areas too.

On my birthday I said to myself 'I am capturing this!'. There was no-way I could leave this happy day behind. It was odd as it was the first birthday without my mum alive, but the love and amazing messages I received from the people I know really made a difference. It was an unforgettable day, a day when I thought 'finally this is what life is when it's good and when it seems less scary'.

I avoided pictures so much when I was a teen. I hated myself. I hated my face. You just want to scribble yourself out, never feeling good enough for anyone, anything. It's like an endless feeling you're too scared to end, but at the same time you don't want to accept either. It sounds vain, but capturing a picture when I am happy at least gives me something to look back on so I can say, 'oh I was happy there, that's me, I can do it, it's achievable, I'm allowed to feel good'.

So, here's a pic I took of myself this year on my 23rd birthday. I had a chilled morning eating posh raspberry jam on toast (a lovely present from my housemate), I tried on dresses which I don't go anywhere to wear, and never used to feel good in (I put on two stone and now have lost it), and taking snaps of my beaming face. Here I am naturally happy.

OK so it's a slightly bashful pic (but I'm well chuffed with my hair in this one!) and that day led to a lovely welcome in work, my life long friend (pretty much a sister) coming to London just for me (and she bought me breakfast!) and dinner in the evening with a new group of friends...

Things have changed a lot since then, but I'm still here. I'm still trying. I might not want to take a picture of myself today, but at least I know that there are days in the future I will want to take a picture of myself. I know this because there's been days like the above in the past, I've made myself happy, I can do it and I will.

Cutting down

It started with three a day. Black coffee in the morning, a cup of tea around 11am and perhaps another in the afternoon.

I began to cut down, making it two a day – one for the morning and one in the afternoon, so when commuting I wouldn’t feel rancid and shoulder hunched on the cold bus home. On the weekend I glug down on my special coffee (sent to me from Origin Coffee in Cornwall-thank you!) like it’s water on tap – it’s my weekend treat! Since caffeine is a stimulant, I tend to drink it to give my brain a boost. They say that caffeine is good for depression, as well as brazil nuts, combining these two elements with a brew has helped me feel good! However, enough was enough. I’m iron deficient and in the world of nutrition, caffeine inhibits the absorption of the good metal stuff.

It’s time I had to make a change. For about two weeks now I’ve cut down to one cup a day, sometimes none. Amazingly I’m feeling quite good without it, perhaps I’m even feeling better! There are no coffee jitters and I feel more hydrated, since I run long distance I’m keen to maintain this- and my skin feels great. The downside is I’ve been upping my processed sugar intake to plough through. I do have a sweet tooth and I like to enjoy indulgent foods, I suppose as I’m nutritionally aware I beat myself up about this more than necessary. Mind over matter, I’m trying to maintain a healthy balance to keep my energy up, nutrition consistent and of course my mind strong.

All in all, I’m feeling pretty good and I don’t just mean physically. Mentally I feel good and I think that’s part of the reason why I’m thriving without caffeine :) I’m making sure I take time to rest, time to chill out and also time to recognise and do those lovely things which really make me happy.

 

I’ve had a few compliments lately about my blog. I just wanted to use this positive post to say thank you very much to those of you who read and have provided feedback for That cake had consequence J There’s a couple of posts I have in mind which I HAVE to write about. Typically I’ve not been as disciplined in writing lately (naughty me)...

Also I’d like to say happy birthday to my friend who I wrote about in this post, who turned 24 yesterday :D I’m sure he’s feeling a little ropey today from his hardcore and well deserved celebrations!

Enjoy the day!

Important

What you see, breathe, listen, take in. Your people, their smiles, your smile, the laughter.
Fill yourself with crowds, with sounds and let them rip roar right through you.
The dim lights, the bright lights, natural sun feels so good.

I have a story, lets hear yours, I can see it widen your eyes.
This is a good time and I'd like to record it.

Stop waiting

'So perhaps the most important thing to do every day is to take a moment or two to simply consider all of the things that are happening to you, in this moment, at this location, with these people, that are worth remembering. The things that make life special, that make you feel loved, and that may not ever be reproduced in this lifetime. It is simply too easy to be perpetually focused on what isn’t working, what isn’t fair, what isn’t fun — but just like the flowers we so often let die in the pots by our windows, the things we love need attention, need to be fostered, and we deserve to see them grow.

What would you do to be happy? Sometimes we set aside our happiness just to make it through the everyday. It’s not that we don’t want to be happy, because who doesn’t want that? It’s more that we overlook our own happiness for the greater good of some other thing. We get stuck in relationships we don’t want to be in for the greater good of love and the fear of being lonely or never being liked again. We work jobs we don’t really care about for the paycheck, health insurance, and employee discounts. We make it to a point in our lives where we feel stuck, trapped, thinking that anything else must be better than this, not even realizing how we ever got stuck here in the first place.

...For me, interesting things, experiences, and people are still the top things that make me happy.

There are different kinds of happiness. Orgasms make people happy. When a student tells me that he got accepted into a top graduate program, that makes me happy. When I think about how my grandmother calls potpourri “poppa-touri,” that makes me happy.

But I want us to think about happiness as self-love. It’s when you smile with your eyes. It’s when you come home for dinner and your boyfriend or girlfriend made your favorite meal. Happiness is when you’ve been scoping the city and the Internet for those Jeffrey Campbell’s in a size nine and everybody’s sold out. But then, finally, you find a pair — AND THEY’RE ON SALE! Happiness is when you notice that something is going wrong in your life and instead of letting it fester and focusing on the negative, you take charge and do something dramatic to change paths. When you make a change from being unhappy to doing something that makes you burst with glee, happiness is looking in the rearview mirror at your past self and being thankful that you’re not that person anymore.

We are afraid of happiness. Everybody wants to be happy, but having that kind of pleasure frightens us. It’s too liberating, not orderly enough. That’s why we tell ourselves that we’ll get to whatever it is that makes us happy, eventually. But when is that going to be?

You shouldn’t wait to be happy because you owe it to yourself to be your best self. You shouldn’t wait to be happy because nobody can make you happy but you. Life is sort of pointless, I mean except for sample sales and Magnolia cupcakes. You shouldn’t wait to be happy because what are you waiting for? Tomorrow may never come.'

Stuck in a box

Over the weekend a friend of mine came to visit London for the day. I hadn't seen him in three years.

Us two were the ones standing in the 'yard' at school, ages 14 and 15 looking miserable as sin and wondering why am I not like 'that'. Our friends would walk and run about the grounds with no weight on their shoulders. I'd be constantly questioning whether there was something wrong with me, with the world, with people...

Teenage hormones aside, my history covered episodes of panic attacks, hours of crying and howling until I ran out of breath. Sometimes I'd hear from my friend in his moments of sheer depression, desires for suicide and endless days where there seemed no way out for either of us.

Meeting up last Sunday felt like there had been no time apart. Our sense of humour matched and we caught up on stories on what you could say, felt a bit like self discovery. I am so proud of my friend. He has had outcome. He's taking charge on his life: it's pill free, natural state of mind with the right attitude and knowing how to look after himself.

We both know that to help yourself there only is you. Regardless how down you're feeling, if you want to get better it has to be a choice. You have to choose to be less self destructive and remind yourself what you have to live for. I'm not saying that mental illness is a choice, and we all need momentary escapes, but we have to choose to remain on the right path and to put it bluntly, whether to choose to live or die.

Right now I'm in a mental box. A place where I'm kept safe and free from my mental lows. My friend, at least, has given me huge amounts of hope that what we feel doesn't have to be forever. In the moment it feels like there's no escape and that this is what life is, a trap. I've got more work to do, but I just wanted to write an update as I haven't for a while. It's always on my mind to put something on here. When I don't, sometimes I'm hiding, sometimes I feel so indifferent I can't get the words out of my head. Then there are other times when I'm high on life and get distracted to post.

I just wanted to write a piece where people can see there is hope, because there has to be, otherwise there's no life at all.

11 signs

Perhaps a more relatable description to look at symptoms

Breakfast time 27.10.12

I feel happy and it's weird and I don't know what to do with it and now I'm stuck to the sofa.

I don't think it's an indifference. I mean I feel excited, I feel ready, I feel energised. I feel like I can make a choice. My brain feels like a circular train track going round and around and around. Perhaps throwing a dart in the centre will balance it all out. I could sit here all day, in a box, a mental box. I can twiddle with my thumbs and lie still because I feel safe and nice and I'm being held in place. The mania will kick in soon. The manic nice moods where I can jump up and down like a pogo. Last night was wonderful. I ate, I managed to eat! I ate more than I could usually and had no consequence. Mentally it was fine. Mentally I allowed it. I jumped like a pogo and we danced on the fluffy rug, we didn't care about neighbors.

Outside it looks beautiful. Blue skies, orange leaves and fresh air waiting to be exhaled. I have to capture the moment. I have to write it down, I'm already scared it's going to go away. Time will disappear. I might not feel this good anymore. I might not have this time to myself. I feel quite lucky.

I woke up feeling like it was Christmas. Tucked up in bed, radiator ticking, expanding with the heat. With my eyes closed I imagined what I would discover, kitchen sounds rattling, dressing gowns and warm lighting. I wake up looking like Mowgli, birds nest on my head and panda eyes. If I had it my way, I'd walk downstairs to find her in the kitchen. Sky blue dressing gown and a curly mess, hair sticking out on top in snakes and wires, glasses on and BBC radio 2 settling in the corner. She liked putting the cupboard up-lighters on to make an atmosphere, even though it was light outside we wasted the electricity, it reflected nicely on the counter. I hear slippers scuff on tiles and the toaster pops. Smells of white toast crunching under the butter knife, golden blankets spread. My big square lounge and over sized red sofas, I curl up in the corner. I always liked to look out at the trees. I really love trees. Mum would join me, sitting in her usual spot. We drank tea from Denby mugs and ravished in our moment of peace. The morning. Breakfast. Our time together.

It's not a choice

Thank you.

"My psychology teacher showed us this picture in class and spent a good 10 minutes talking about how depression is a disorder, a mental disease, not a choice, etc. I respect him so much for that."