Just Another Manic Monday: Lists of Then and Now to Fight My Anxiety and Depression

At the weekend I planned to write a piece on authenticity. As a business woman I am exploring what this means. We all have our work personas, and our others. One of the most interesting things I've read is that we can change - we won't stay the same and shouldn't expect other people to either. It's part of our evolution. That's why we do performance development and change management. Because we need to change. However, one thing that isn't going to change is my list making...(see below!)

I don't believe we have to show everything to be 'authentic', but at the same time, being able to be honest about the part of me that has depression and anxiety.

Today I'm feeling really unwell, so this is what I can do. I'm hoping to write more on authenticity - especially in business. For now, here is a blog about how I've made changes to try and combat Monday morning anxiety.

Five years ago, if you asked me what Sunday night looked like, I'd say this:

Just to avoid misinterpretation, no, dear reader, I am not George Clooney.

1. I would pack my suitcase for the week ahead, make a note of all the things I needed to remember to do (that I hadn't remembered to make a note of on Friday)
2. I'd look forward to a cold, crisp glass of sherry and a delicious Sunday dinner.
3. I knew I probably wouldn't sleep well because I'd be thinking of all the activities ahead of me (which despite taking careful note of, were whirring around my little head like a carousel whirring and blurring at 100 MPH).
4. I'd be aware of the earlier-than-normal time I needed to wake up to ensure I got the train to wherever work was taking me, and this would mean my sleep would be broken - I'd wake up half a dozen times to watch the clock, even though I would have set an alarm.
5. I might have dreams about work - often - and I might think of new things to add to that to do list. All in all, I'd have a fairly rough start to the week, which I'd treat with a bottle of diet coke (or two), a fair breakfast bought at the station and a blurry Monday trying to get through various meetings whilst not falling asleep or seeming manic because of the amount of caffeine I'd consumed to make Monday working even a possibility.

Overcaffeinated? Yep.

What has changed? It's Monday morning.  I woke up feeling horrific, but now I know that I can employ various things to try to ease this and help me get through the day.

I feel terribly anxious after a nightmare-filled broken night of sleep where I dreamed of a wider to-do list including both life things (like trying to sell the house, tidy the flat, clean, and a long list of work activities). This means that I'm feeling physically sick, with bile present in my chest and rising in my throat.

There is nothing I can do about that, or my bad dreams if I've practised healthy behaviours before bed. Here are my best behaviours. I try to do these every day.

1. I go to bed in time to be awake for a decent amount of time getting comfortable in bed and 'finishing' the day in my head. 
2. I drink water with my tablets and only drink water (and plenty of it) after bed and beforehand. I don't drink any caffeine at all but I used to not drink any after 2pm
3. I read something that is not too challenging and not upsetting before bed on my Kindle, on the lowest possible light setting that I can manage during the dark. I find that looking at my ipad or iphone before bed can disturb my brain with the backlighting and make it harder for me to get to sleep.
4. I put on a programme to listen to before sleep which my brain will focus on (meaning not on the 1000 alternatives possible) and this concentration relaxes my brain and usually is the magic silver bullet to make me go the f*** to sleep.

You can buy this excellent book here.

Having done these last night, I'm feeling just as tired as I would have been five years ago, and have a list in front of me that I'm crossing things off from. A list is helpful to me for these reasons:

1. It helps me to realise that it's unlikely I've forgotten something, and stops my mind from racing around trying to repeat the things I have to do the next day / in general again and again. 
2. When I cross things off (even if it's just writing an email) I feel like I'm making progress and it makes me feel more in control. (And yes, I am one of those people who even puts things already achieved onto that list...it's good to remember that you've achieved something already!)
3. I can build on it throughout the week and decide to allocate some of the items to other later days depending on how my health is.

On the other hand, I didn't have anything to drink on Sunday night (or at any time on Sunday in fact); I didn't have a suitcase to pack because currently I don't have to work on client work away from home, because of the project types I'm working on. I didn't eat a Sunday roast.

I went to bed at around 6-7pm because I wasn't feeling at all well. I also now have a host of drugs to try to help my depression and anxiety and the medication that I take to allow me to take that medication, that is, to help with side effects of insomnia, restless leg syndrome and, yes, anxiety.

What else do I do to make myself feel better? There are quite a few things that I know can work (even though they don't always). Here is a view of what I do to try to combat anxiety and depression and allow myself to work and get through the week ahead. Let's start with work things:

1. I decide to work from home (or I give myself the option to do this). I know this is not possible for everyone, and I feel that my current employer KPMG is absolutely essential to allowing me to do look after myself when I'm feeling really unwell. For some of the #selfcare activities I'll need to do, working from home for me is - today and on many other days - the difference between being able to work and having to take the day off sick. I'd much rather work if possible, especially because I enjoy my work and work is a welcome distraction from feelings of depression and the ruminating / worrying voices in my head, so, for me, this is the best possible outcome.
2. I make the list (hahaha, now you know I make lists!) (see above) both for work and for my non-work activities. It's really important to me that I set up my teams for success and that I set myself up for success (in spite of mental illness) by making a plan which I can put in place to support everyone I work with through the week, and enable me to be useful, work effectively, and not hold people or projects back (which would make me feel worse).
3. I am open with my colleagues about how I'm feeling. Today, for example, I can't take phone call after phone call as the constant contact might increase my anxiety levels, so I've made some calls and rescheduled others for tomorrow, ensuring we still make progress but not to the detriment of my health.
4. I arrange some critical meetings face to face for tomorrow, so that I can prepare for useful meetings on one day, in a reasonable (2/3 day) space of time to give me breaks to sit alone, quietly and have food and water between these. I need breaks to enable me to keep going.
5. I use technology (which is my business anyway!) to help myself to stay connected with colleagues and support them: Skype for Business (which allows desktop sharing and collaboration on group calls between India, USA...the world). I can review many of my fab team's work products through our online document storage options and lots more. It's good for my mental health if I can stay in touch with everyone - stay connected - and feel a part of my team even if I'm not well enough to go into the office.

And on the non-work front, here are the things that I have done (and do) to try to help myself feel as well as I can:

1. I get up and go for a run. My energy levels are better in the morning and if I manage to complete a run then, that's the best chance I'll be able to do exercise because after a day of work I'll be shattered.
2. I don't drink caffeine of any kind except very, very rarely (I've had 6 diet cokes this year). Caffeine can have an impact on my medication and make me high / then low after the post-caffeine crash. It's a mood altering drug so I'm avoiding it to try to give my medication the best change of working. This might mean I am more tired than normal in the day, so if I am shattered, I build in breaks (as above). 
3. I make myself (or buy) juice from breakfast (beetroot, carrot, apple and ginger). More from the Mayo clinic on anti-anxiety nutrition guidelines here. 
4. I drink plenty of water all the time. It's great that I don't like coffee, tea etc. but I do miss diet coke. I love the no added sugar fizzy drinks from Marks and Spencer and I certainly am not a perfect diet person - it's just some things I can do, but I'm not a paragon of nutritional virtue - far from it.
5. I eat nutritious food, but also nice food. Crisps are a non-negotiable. I also can't give up bread. I. Love. Bread. And I will eat cookies too. Refined sugar might not be the best thing, but it tastes nice.

It's only 12.03 and I've got a lot more hours to get through. So here goes. But I hope for anyone reading this and wondering how they're going to get through the next few hours. Me too.

Empire State of Mindfulness: Returning to New York City

The ever constant beauty of New York City

at the Central Park reservoir

The last time I set foot in New York I had sat on the hard wood floor of my stripped apartment and waved goodbye to my life there as if that process was as simple as packing up my furniture and bags into cardboard boxes and waving goodbye to them. After a last lunch with friends on a freezing cold sunny January day in 2014 my life as a New York resident ended and my life in London with Mat resumed full time.

Sean at Dublin airport helping me get from plane to plane despite feet, back, stomach etc. problems. If you meet him in the future, you've met a celebrity. The guy literally knows everyone in the place.

Perhaps you might understand then, especially if you read my earlier post, that I was very nervous about returning to a place that had given me so many mixed memories of bitter-sweetness. I loved (I love) New York that I didn’t know what would happen when I returned there for a great friend’s wedding. I’m not supposed to predict the future (meaning thinking about all the things that are coming up and considering each possible outcomes that could occur). It’s actually a thinking trap or a false perception that doing that – thinking about all the “maybes” and “mights” of future events makes me less worried or stressed about them. It actually makes it a lot worse.

This can be a pretty accurate picture of the concentration of my thoughts, 

and there's little room for mindfulness (or any activity) when this happens

Now sometimes I find this useful – at work it can help me to stay on the board with the list of to-dos (and to create things that aren’t on that list but might be valuable to add to it!). With moderation so that I don’t burn out I have found this to be a career enhancing skill to possess – that ability to switch my brain into overdrive mode so that I am not only thinking about the current to do list, but the non-existent to do list, plus the overall strategic approach to the pieces of work I’m leading. However, this time I am trying to take a chill pill and stop wondering what if, and just live a bit more in the moment.

When Harry Met Sally...a classic and a depiction of depression in New York because of lost love. (Plus a happy ending.)

"...when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible." Harry Burns

The minute we arrived off the plane things were already so different. I wasn’t waiting in my apartment for a text from Mat saying he’d just got off the plane and was on his way; I was sitting beside him and he was holding my hand as we landed and looking out onto JFK. We held hands in the taxi and laughed about the traffic. (Okay, so we didn’t laugh about the traffic, we laughed about the fact that the traffic still sucked and wasn’t it annoying and he was still holding my hand when we arrived at the hotel.)

Back in NYC, the city that never sleeps. Luckily these days, for me, I do.

I guess a wedding-themed trip is always going to have a focus on romance, and I welled up like a true cliché when the beautiful bride walked down the aisle to meet her groom Phil, a friend from university. It reminded me how wonderful my life with Mat is and how lucky I am to have him – again and again. New York is very different returning as a visitor hand in hand with my husband and knowing that we’ll leave together. I am a big believer that we are all able to help to make ourselves better by working hard to put into practice the tools we’ve learned to combat those horrid thinking traps that seem to plague me in numbers akin to the number of cockroaches in this stunning and sordid city. But sometimes, it has to be said that I recognise that making an actual change in my life can make a huge difference to how I feel.

Getting hitched in the city. Perfect wedding and reminder of my own

amazing good fortune to have my wonderful husband.

When I returned home to the UK I let go of all the stresses that came with trying to have a functioning marriage on two continents, along with paying two sets of bills every month, paying for two properties and trying to live on whatever was left over. (Thank you, Subway, I am thankful for your $5 footlongs, though despite what you said the calorie count was the fact that I gained 10lbs living in the US for two years doesn’t inspire me with confidence. Sorry Jared Fogle.) The loneliness and stresses had really got to me and the physical process of releasing that, while sad, was also liberating and relaxing. Of course, then I started a new job and new challenges started, but it was great to let go of my double life.

A Picasso at MoMA. I can easily imagine the woman seeing her different reflection experiencing the challenges of existence, presenting an outward face of calm contrasting with an inward face of unrest.

New York living can be as high octane as you want to make it and I used to be someone who would just go, go, and keep going forever until at some late point it was time to stop working or partying…and sleep a bit until the next day when it started over and over again. This is truly the opposite of mindfulness. I could let three months go past and hardly notice that it had happened, because I’d never stopped the whole time. Now I am savouring my moments in New York. We have our list of the ‘must dos’ because my husband and I – in spite of all of the difficulties and loneliness - both felt we had some of happiest memories in this crazy, beautiful city.

Running the reservoir. Always a must-do activity for me

On this five day trip I’ve had a rest each day, done at least one activity (e.g. visiting a museum, a landmark, taking a slow walk-run in Central Park), one meal (or maybe two, yep, definitely two) and drinks in one of our favourite places. I've also enjoyed writing postcards home to my friends and family. I used to write them every time I went away and I've missed not sending those missives of friendship and love from wherever I go to keep in touch on paper, rather than via our internet-focused existences.

Keeping on running. A glorious day for a run (/ walk!) in Central Park

Taking a slower approach to New York is very new for me, but I have been mindful of each experience. I’ve breathed more slowly (believe me, if this doesn’t sound like much, then it really is for me. 

Savouring the hot dogs at Schnippers. Oh yes...

...and savouring the art (the SHOE art) at MoMA (all by Andy Warhol)

I am Miss Hyperactivity…or at least I used to be), I’ve looked around and noticed what’s around me this time, tried to taste (tried a good few times to taste) the pasta, the burgers and the cocktails. I’ve made myself sit down and write this today while Mat goes shopping and relaxed. (Although, dear reader, I am just a little apprehensive at the prospect of his return from this mission given that he and I, partners and compatible in so many ways, are polar opposites in this regard, so I need to practise some deep breathing in case he shows up totally freaked out!) 

A night under the stars and bright lights of Manhattan.

All dressed up and telling myself to be confident in myself.

I’ve also tried to become a bit more body confident (which is another perpetual struggle, especially after all the weight-gaining meds, to wear my clothes with confidence and feel beautiful no matter how many size double (or triple) zero sharp New York women are wandering around, which used to bother me so.

The newly re-opened and beautifully refurbished Tavern on the Green. 

Here's the terrace on a stunning evening.

I have realised that I have spent so much time on previous holidays trying to race through everything and trying hard to have a good time that I made it almost impossible to have one. I’ve answered that question that everyone always asks you on your first day back at work (you know, “How was your holiday?”) with a lie. Nearly. Every. Single. Time. So you’ll see some holiday snaps throughout this post, some of the art I saw, some of the places I returned to and looked at with my new, clear and calmer and more content eyes. And if I’m stressed out tomorrow, well, at least I wasn’t today – or today so far. And that’s good enough for me. Till next time. x

La Dolce Vita...When in Rome, Let's Roam...

La Dolce Vita...

When you’re all grown up in your thirties, and I say that with a profound sense of irony, for anyone out there who might miss it (i.e. who doesn't know that I’m a sarky mare) it can be hard to get together with beloved friends from one’s younger and more vulnerable years. My particular group of great friends, the ones you meet in your first term but do not wish to give up in the second, but in fact are the ones that you keep for life, see each other with bittersweet rarity these days, with all of us living either in different parts of the country or – at various times – abroad.

Centurion on his cell...

There is some sense of rightness, then, that in order to reunite we would need to do so on foreign soil, where all of our ‘otherness’ lives, our different jobs and partners and paths are momentarily put on pause while we hold our beautiful reunion together in a place unknown to all of us which sets us, once more, on terra firma of our long lost university days, when everything was before us.

And so to Rome, which wasn't built in a day, but where our marble and stone friendships survived in all of their original glory and rose to their former obelisks and mighty friezes as if we had never started to lay foundations elsewhere, as if this, the original project of our friendship, was all that there was.

Roma Roof Terrace

At university we had wanted beauty and love and learning, so there was really no better place (especially considering half of our party were Classicists anyhow), and there was also tennis and the promise of a Matisse exhibition as well as the eternal gelati and food in general to lure us. We stayed in the leafy and peaceful Parioli neighbourhood at a magnificent place found on airbnb which catered for 5 people, perhaps an unusual number for most, but perfect for our purposes. Here we looked out from a great height onto the unused gardens of the Polish embassy and ate slices of prosciutto di Parma on the roof terrace each morning (and possibly afternoon and evening, such is my obsession with that particular food stuff…)

Gelatissimi

I had packed with some ridiculousness, nodding at the style I so wanted to exude in line with the holy grail of fashion streets – la via Condotti – six pairs of shoes and four pairs of sunglasses, one per day. I planned my outfits to allow me to - comfortably (my feet (no I’m afraid I must mention my feet and my back, even though their decrepitude does not suit the style of a blog about Rome…) – explore the known and the unknown piazzi of the city and its treasures whilst styled in my most beautiful dresses and outfits.

Gardens of the Villa Borghese...Can you picture the nymphs at play?

We had a few shared quests: to eat ice cream every day, to eat well every day, to see Caravaggios and Berninis between this eating, and wander through the squares and streets together absorbing the sound of church bells and bicycles and melodious Italian voices (broken only by the equally eternal street salesman with their “Selfie!” shtick).

Security after the Selfie-Stick-Sellers

I joined the party post tennis, post sunburn from the tennis when there was no shade of any kind, but pre-Matisse Arabesques exhibition and a visit to the fundamentals of Rome: the Colosseum and forum area. With only four days I knew there would be some effort needed physically to attain more flavours of the city than simply a couple of (large) scoops of gelati, but nonetheless, barring my near decision to nix the whole trip in favour of a few hours more of precious sleep at 4am last Thursday when my alarm went off, I was delighted and determined to do.

Panzanella on the terrace. Perfect lunch.

I arrived in time for lunch on the terrace of our apartment, which was in a modern-ish building (comparatively; I think Augustus probably would have loved to have built marble elevators but even he couldn't make that work…) but with views of other mansion blocks (and I really do mean ‘blocks’) in the area. Jasmine and massive Amaryllises, as well as an actual Roman vine gently sat in stately fashion beside us and above us as we indulged in panzanella, prosciutto (of course) and pink wine.

Ah beautiful (not cruel) amaryllis

(I should say that I’m not planning to write much about my friends here, except to say that they are wonderful, because that part of my life is not just private (and of course they are not blogging so I respect their right to privacy) but even though I've made some attempt to tell you about our friendship I don’t think I could convey here how it works with all of our differences and ever make you understand how magical and potent a mixture of all the right aspects of a delightful long-standing bond ours is. Plus you’d never get all the private jokes, though some of those may make it into here, and if you’re not laughing, well, then, I was right, wasn't I?)

Dinner of steak and rocket...and parmesan savings. Delicious!

Fresh food is found aplenty in the UK of course, but just as you cannot, really, get croissants that actually taste as if they've been bought straight from the boulangerie, in London, you also find it hard to find prosciutto di Parma that has the remarkable dual features of being ultra-thin but extra-fatty and flavoursome. I’m a complete prosciutto addict at the best of times, but this stuff. It was something else. Worth the plane fare on its own. I had prepared for the trip carefully by packing loose clothing that would accommodate my ever expanding belly during the food fest, and I was glad even after that first lunch to have done so. I even indulged myself with a nap in the afternoon, choosing being awake and dinner with friends over the Galleria Borghese, because I still need to make these choices to ensure that I stay healthy and can last through a holiday.

Tonnarelli. So, so, so good.

I chose dinner locations (not sure why I decided to assume the stress position...) on both nights we ate out together during my visit, by the coincidence of my nap on the first day and because I and my friend Kristian remained alone for the last night. As always I was concerned to choose a good enough location (hello higher standards, nice to see you came with me to Rome) and consulted a few reviews on Trip Advisor, keen to see reviews in Italiano and for the price to suit our not-too-deep-pocket requirements whilst the menu satiated our tightening waist bands.

Beef carpaccio and red radicchio...delicious

At Mamma Mia, near the Galleria Borghese, dinner service begins at 7:30pm and I managed to convey in stunted Italian a request for table for four at 8pm to the charming waitress who decided – though it was clear that to make this request comprised the sum total of my Italian – to be polite and answer me in Italian (grazie mille!). We ate amazing first courses of delicate crepes with tomato sauce, zucchini and other vegetable tempura, presented in tiny ‘chip pan’ like mesh container, and thick, juicy mortadella adorned with balsamic dressing to add the sourness to the meat’s sweet flavour.

Crepes at Mamma Mia...and all I can say is, well, how can I resist you?

The next point is trickier to navigate: are we hungry enough for primi (pasta) AND secondi (meat) or should we divide and conquer? We chose the latter option (and I would recommend that less is more because they really do give you ‘more’) and therefore had the chance to taste some of both: ravioli with bacon and red wine (you had me at ‘bacon’) and tonnarelli with cacia e pepe – cheese and pepper – the Roman thing to eat and rich and fabulous, even though it sounds on paper like I’m describing the Roman equivalent of mac and cheese. Black truffled risotto had me drooling when the menus arrived and did not disappoint and nor did a tiny sliver of the enoteca and lardo salumi (I think that’s how you spell it…apologies if not) which is a moist and tender steak fillet with a very thin slice of fat stretched over the top, giving delectably fatty flavour. Yum.

Spanish steps...a panoramic tourist vista

The next day we ate pizza, Roman style, for lunch, ordering a selection of slices – we nearly didn't manage it all but forced it down like true British school children taught to finish what’s on our plate – and – of course – gelati. Photographs of food can never convey the flavour but, yum, again, and thrice yum.

Pizza Romana...So good I sacrificed my size to it

On the final night we wandered our way to Trastevere, across the Tiber, for a different vibe and type of square – not the massive stately piazzi with their grand churches and anonymous stone palaces but poky, tiny squares where there are bursts of bright flowers, old and new cars crushed into the non-existent parking options, and where you’re more likely to see someone’s washing hanging out of the window than be harassed to take a selfie or buy a wilting rose.

Trastevere - the Brooklyn of Roma?

We ate at Meridionale, another Trip Advisor find, after an almost unsuccessful email exchange where I tried to book dinner for 7 using email and misunderstood the reply – it was a ‘yes’ but we thought it was a ‘no’!

Prosecco chasers. Salute!

When prosecco chasers sent over, we already knew we were onto a winner, but here were our menu choices in this delightful, hidden gem: beef carpaccio with red radicchio and hazlenuts was delectable and huge, salmon carpaccio with tangerines and salad less impressive but juicy; spaghetti de l’nduja (spicy sausage) was spicy indeed and we were grateful for the rich but soothing familiar flavours of tonnarelli con cacia e pepe again…ahhh. No dessert here – far too full – but I can recommend the Poggiomaestro Toscana we drank with our meal, which was rich but not overbearing. A delight.

Andouille sausage pasta...spicy but nice

There must always be more to write about Rome, and there is, but with a full belly and happy heart I will leave it there for now and save the shopping and more for another post. A prossima! X