Good Bye January, Hello Time to Talk Day 2018

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January is over. I never considered January to be too bad of a month but everyone constantly goes on about how it’s a bit of a shit month. This year it was a shit month for me. The weather probably didn’t help but I can’t blame the weather for everything because even in summer, if the mood strikes I can spend days in bed on the most beautiful of days. With this in mind as January became another month of lost days, it is somewhat timely that Time to Talk day is today.

Time to Talk, for anyone who isn’t aware, is a day where talking about mental health is actively campaigned for by Time to Change. Time to Change is a charity that campaigns to try to end mental health discrimination by encouraging conversation to harness positivity in the evolving attitudes towards mental health that we are seeing at the moment. In doing so, the hope I suppose is to move towards one of more balance, openness and create a culture in which everyone can develop a better understanding of mental illness and that one can’t just pull their hypothetical socks up.

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The campaign says there is no wrong place to talk about mental health, at the gym, over coffee, or even on a run. I think sometimes just being accepted and given the space to crack on in any way you know how without judgement can be a very welcome break. Most people in my life know I have mental health difficulties. It’s been somewhat of a long-standing issue for me, and one that I have a somewhat fraught relationship with.

When I’m doing well I can reflect and be grateful for everything my challenges have taught me, and how my path has shaped who I am today. I would almost certainly not be as non-judgmental and open-minded had I not had some of the experiences that I have. When I’m not feeling so chipper and dandy however, I cuss every moment of my life wasted on feeling shit, every lost opportunity because I let anxiety win, and every bad decision I’ve made due to my illness. I generally cuss the fact that mental health even exists a lot of the time, and how so debilitating your mind can become.

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I think being open about our mental health can only be positive. I try to be as honest as possible with those around me when I’m not feeling so great, so they know and can know not to take me being an arsehole personally. Let’s face it, mental health can get very gritty. It gets dark, it gets scary and it gets pretty fucked up at times. I don’t think shying away from this is helpful, however, maybe at the gym isn’t the best place to talk about the darkest parts of our psyche. I do think there are times and places that are more suited to certain conversations because even if you’ve finally accepted that you have or have had a mental health condition, there is still judgement.

I think closer, and more intimate conversations are best for challenging any stigma, prejudice or discrimination that may or may not be happening around us. People judge strangers very quickly, and sometimes you might not want everyone to know about your mental health struggles at first because hey, it’s nice to be known for your personality and not an illness that you have to manage. Kind of just like you might not want everyone to know about your bowel movements or sexual health. That’s ok.

Having said that, I’ll probably end up talking about mental health at some point because of my living and general situation, and that fact that a lot of my life still, unfortunately, remains largely oriented around managing my mental health. It’s not all roses and shortbread and that’s ok, for me, for you and for everyone. We all struggle at some point and I don’t think anyone can get through life without being tried, tested or even tortured by our minds albeit to differing degrees.

So let’s talk. This evening I will be heading to Crystal Palace park for a Time to Talk fun run. There’s some useful lists on their sites:
Events nationwide can be found here
Resources that can be found and used here
Tips on starting a conversation here

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When Running, Motivation and Mental Illness Collide

When motivation and mental illness become intertwined and this makes it difficult to stick to any form of plan. Getting dressed can be difficult to organise in my head when I’m like this, so balancing study, running, fitness, friends, groups I like to go to and volunteering is just a dream again. I know I can, and that I will again but right now this can’t be my currently reality. I need to learn to navigate these times as best as I can, and I think that’s a long journey ahead of me.

The past few weeks have been quite scatty. I’m not sure quite what is going on, or why things have gone so awry again. They have, and that’s something I need to take in my stride as best as I can. That doesn’t mean I will always keep my strides even and steady during these times – in fact, far from it. I may jolt forward and fast in my moments of being able to organise in my head and utilise my motivation to meet my goals, then trudge slowly in an aching manner as everything I intended to do to make me feel better slips away. Time doesn’t stop for anyone and right now I could do with time stopping for me to, I don’t know, figure out what’s sending me stray and to get myself back on track.


I’m swaying quite quickly right now between able and unable, motivated and unmotivated, being able to hear my thoughts and it being just a chaos of mish-mashed noises, being able to organise myself and feeling at a loose end, thinking ahead and being stuck in trying to think at all. I’ll be honest, I fucking hate this.

It does add more fuel to my fire in that when I am able to get myself out running and climbing, or going to the gym – it propels my need to do this stuff to feel good and maintain feeling well about myself.

I don’t even know what else to say; my head is mush.

 

If You’re Only Hitting the Gym for a Hot Body – You’ve Got The Living Thing All Wrong

I”ve been trying to get involved in helping people become more active through various projects and tasks set as part of my Nutrition BSc degree. These past 2 weeks I’ve been quite the hypocrite in terms of being as active as I would like – oh Hai again Depression. From uni projects that I’m involved with in trying to get people more active there is a heavy ideology, from numerous people, who I’m going to say have the best intentions at heart. That is that the reason we exercise is to look a certain way. Nothing more. Nothing less. This is a very big problem. This is a very big problem indeed.

They genuinely believed exercise is a means we go through in order to sculpt, change and gain a body that looks a certain way in order to find the elusive happiness and ease of life that comes with a “perfect” body. Internally I’m screaming. Internally I’m banging my head on the table top harder and harder with each time this underlying notion comes to the surface.

Looking a certain way and achieving what is “perfect” for that generation or time is not the answer to all of your questions. Trust me. I wasted 10 years believing the same thing, when I was the same age as the people I’m talking about and I look back with full eyes, shaking my head and thinking, “Shit! Something needs to change.” because it seems the pressures have gained momentum since I was that gullible girl too. Instead of just not eating, which is relatively easy when you’ve got a complicated conundrum of emotional and mental health needs underlying that behaviour. However, now, you have to eat right, ergo, eat what’s trendy and most expensive and over priced at the moment. You also have to do a million squats to get a good ‘booty’ – for who? I don’t know about you, but as I go about my day to day business I rarely even see my arse.

One notion to get people being more active – which isn’t a new one goes along the lines of this, “lets hold a competition of who can do the most activity throughout the week or month – we can use FitBits or pedometers.” We could if we want to send out the message that more is always better in terms of being active. This isn’t something I can support. I can’t get behind this.

At school when I was in Year 8 we did a similar competition, minus the technology, and do you know what it taught me? It taught me how to count calories. It taught me that in order to burn those calories I had to move more. It taught me how many calories were in a chocolate bare vs an apple. It taught me the difference between regular Coca Cola and Diet Coke. It had me reading the nutritional info label on my water bottle – don’t worry, there’s no calories there, just minerals. This was all before I knew about eating disorders. It was before I was even aware of my body shape compared to others because I was 12 – I was still a child.

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2011-12 : During Anorexia

So skipping back to modern-day when I am no longer living in the innocence of the end of childhood, do I work out because I want a Kardashian booty? No. I don’t give a shit if my arse warrants a peach emoji? Do I want a 6 pack? If I do, then shredding at the gym every day is definitely the way to go about it. What happens though once I have that 6 pack? Do I stop? Or do I keep going to maintain my 6 pack that, let’s be frank, very few people are going to give a fuck about unless they’re some shallow person who wants to shag someone with a 6 pack and be done with me. By falling into that mentality and culture you objectify yourself. You give yourself no value more than your appearance and I’m going to tell you exactly what I think about that:

I THINK IT’S BULLSHIT
BOLLOX
COMPLETE AND UTTER CRAP

You know what the peach emoji can do? It can kiss my derriére.

To put this into perspective even more, when you’re in your coffin at our funeral I very much doubt someone will utter the words, “what a shame? And she had such a good 6 pack as well?” and you know what? They won’t even see you arse because they lie you face up. I guess you could probably put a request to go in face down so everyone can see your beautiful perfectly shaped bottom in rigour mortis. That would be something to talk about to lighten the mood I suppose.

I’m not saying that body image isn’t important. It is important to not hate your body. It is also important to learn to love your body – but guess what? Your body does so much more than look a certain way. It fights injury. It fights infection. It allows you to run 5K if you so wish. It allows you to have sex. It allows you to taste and smell and experience and it lets you do the monkey bars – I mean, what’s better than being able to use your body to play and being able to. Stop wasting your health on vanity.

 

 

Let’s Talk: World Mental Health Day

Yesterday, the 10th October, was World Mental Health Day. Oh how that snuck up on me this year? I dare say I am guilty of being so self-absorbed that I totally forgot. For someone with their head very much in the mental health bubble, online and offline, I totally missed its presence on the horizon.

I suppose this could be seen as a good sign. A good sign that for once my life isn’t revolved around mental health activities and mental health events and mental health awareness and mental health appointments and mental health illness and mental health woes and mental health anything, everything, and submersion until myself and my life are drowning in mental health this and that. It means that my life is moving on and becoming more than my mental health difficulties: which is brilliant. That hasn’t really happened for me perhaps ever. It’s nice. I’m enjoying myself.

However, that doesn’t mean that I ignore World Mental Health Day. Nope. It is important because for every single person who is in a position like I find myself this year, getting on with life with little thought towards their illness other than remembering to take their meds each day, is someone else who is like I was 1 year ago, 2 years ago, 6 years ago.

There are people stuck trying to navigate building a life beyond hospitals and appointments and meds. There are people who have been winded by the blow of mental ill-health who have absolutely no idea how to do anything anymore. There are people for whom making it to the toilet is an achievement, for whom showering is an insurmountable task, who may be stuck on the carousel of going in and out hospital wards. There are working people who are feeling unable to speak up whilst they stuff it all back inside themselves, far far away from the surface of their existence. There are people sat in class who can’t even speak up when their name is called in the register.

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There are hundreds and thousands of people motioning forwards in silence of the pain they face each day from their mental health. There are the ones who need to stay strong for others and in doing so neglect their own needs, those who are ashamed to be feeling how they are because of ought to’s and should’s that can quite frankly, go and fuck themselves. No one has the right to tell you how you should be feeling or thinking or living your life.

I could go on all day about all the millions of people who need help that don’t get it, who are receiving help and still struggling, and who stuff it all into the depth of their distant psyche to try to crack on with each day.

It is for those people that we need World Mental Health Day. You are not alone. I think the online world shows that more than ever. Talking about mental health doesn’t need to be a negative experience; you could offload or share the good stuff that you’ve found that helps you. You don’t need a diagnosis to talk about mental health because, and i’m going to go down that old cliché track, we all have mental health just as we all have physical health. We talk about how much it sucks to have a cough or common cold, lets talk just as much about how much it sucks to be anxious, or feeling a bit off emotionally too.

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Go on. Pop the kettle on. Have a brew. Have a chat, have a cigarette if you fancy it, have some herbal tea if you fancy that and let’s just be available for each other so that we can all feel supported no matter how difficult it feels, or how difficult our mental health difficulties make us. Let’s be open and embrace that yes it happens, yes it’s OK for it to happen and no, it’s not taboo.

I promise, if you tell me you’re feeling pretty shit maybe depressed, maybe not depressed I’m not going to start fidgeting with my jumper cuffs in an awkward way as if you just told me you’re sleeping with my brother and here, check out my tits whilst I’m at it. I won’t look at you, or into the distance between us as if you just did that because mental health isn’t shocking, whereas talking to me as if you just did the aforementioned would be a bit, well, uncomfortable.