Out of the Blue and In The Pink

It comes, it goes, it stays, it leaves...

My last weekend's post is fragmented with ups and downs, and therefore late because my mental health has been fluctuating, but knowing that writing helps, here it is.

Monday 18th January.

I'm feeling so so about the day ahead. Neither good nor bad, neither despairing or excited, at least right now. Right now I'm concentrating on the essentials: getting out of bed. Making the bed. Showering. Drying my hair. Dressing for the day and packing up my rucksack. Then there's the rush or swift pacing towards the train. And on the platform beside me are hundreds of others who have just gone through all those same things and probably more. They might have children to rouse and cajole and chastise through all of those steps above, parents or other relatives to care for, or perhaps they have already been up for hours exercising. (It is, after all, still January.)

Last week I wrote a blog post for Mind on the so-called and fictitious Blue Monday, explaining as clearly as I could that anyone with with depression could be #blueanyday.

There's No Such Thing As A Depression Day

So here's a look at my week.

Monday last, I performed all of the above. With a new year goal to try to be healthy and fit, with a hope that as a side effect I would lose some of the two stone I've gained since breaking my back and being on a cocktail of drugs, at least one of which appears to have beaten down with a stick my ability to eat well, exercise regularly and manage (to a better extent, at least) my weight.

I was extremely busy all day with a number of meetings with team members, colleagues leading projects I'm involved with, my boss and with others. On these days I know I won't have created a document (or 'deliverable', the word my business seems - inexplicably - to prefer) in my hand at the end of the day, the management consultant's equivalent of a painting to take home to mummy and daddy to put on the fridge with proud faces. I rush around the building, knowing that I will certainly meet my daily target of 10,000 steps as my meetings are randomly situated over the fourteen-storey two-building expanse that is my office.

Working my brain into an oiled machine...it gets a little rusty over the weekends at time

There is a reason that I schedule all these meetings together though. One after the other the meetings happen, and I take "a mindful breath" before each one, and get through them. during the first I might feel my gears or cognitive cogs creaking into life after the weekend of luxurious lie-ins (till 7:45!). But as the first meets progresses my clanking cranium starts to move more steadily and stronger, the oil of my breathing and breakfast silently slithering around inside me so I start functioning properly. My point is: once the wheels are turning, I want to keep going as much as I can. 

It's worth it to get my brain in gear and be productive

My mind is whirring eventually and I can actually think about each topic on the agenda and bring something valuable into what we discuss. And my second point is, that, I can't get any detailed work document compiled in a snatched half hour where I should also try to grab my lunch. So, at the end of Monday I feel surprised that it has arrived. I don't have anything in my hand to show for it, to prove I've done anything worthwhile, except a notebook of actions and considerations; but I did get through the day, which I always try to see as something positive these days, and attending so many meetings in a way makes the most of my mental and physical energy reserves to speak and contribute and to be in front of people.

My day can end with notes on a piece of paper, 

but those notes lead to decisions and - finally - to 'deliverables'

I go home and eat something for dinner. Something healthy, and watch television and then to bed. I didn't sleep properly on Sunday night so today, I hope, things will be different.

Tuesday 19th January

Just keep going. Get dressed, and do the things that come after that. 

Tuesday is usually the same, but last week a combination of needing to spend a large amount of time on teleconferences with colleagues in other locations meant I decided to stay at home. Without a three-hour round trip commute I can just get so much more done. Unfortunately I didn't sleep well again, so I indulged in an additional 45 minutes in bed. Some attempt that when I rose, finally, I would be able to push my mind into a state where I could work. I had more listening to do rather than talking, more notes to take, then, but also more time to be quiet even while listening to others talking.

The structure of Monday (with all its meetings stacked up) works for me, but I need both company and solitude to balance my mental health, and time away from the office is a great way to be fully involved in my work but not exposed to the anxieties of travel, dressing up, all the above "start the day" activities. Plus, no one can see my face or any part of me; I could be wearing my pyjamas or my jeans. (If I'm at home as I was for most of Tuesday, I'll likely be wearing jeans, thick socks, a woollen t shirt, two jumpers, a woolly snood, a rug-like scarf and a hat. Our central heating is either on and not very hot or off. Either way sitting still for hours is not the best if you want to stay warm.) the point of this alone time is to be able to carry on working on terms that help my mental health not get in the way of progress.

I ended the day with a treat to see a film - Room - at the cinema, alone. I love solo cinema trips, since it was always too late to organise spontaneous visits with friends most weekends. Alone in the cinema I can think whatever I want and it doesn't matter if others disagree. I won't need to be polite and listen and broker my way through the discussion; it's just me on my own in the dark watching a story unfold, and my review is in my head, not open for discussion or critique.

Wednesday 20th January

Wednesday was similar in form to Tuesday. I spent my working hours at home on calls and producing some documents in the time in between. I can't remember whether I slept well on Tuesday night or not, but I suspect I didn't. Somewhere along the way through Wednesday morning a combination of feeling numb and feeling desperate seep in and I notice by lunchtime that I feel like going to bed and not getting up for the rest of the day. 

I wasn't overworked, I was overwhelmed by depression.

Not the same thing. It can happen through over work,

but I'm still working on understanding this skittish illness

Where does it come from? I had therapy coming up later and so, so wanted to stay at home and slip under the duvet away from everything and everyone in the world until Mat finally got home. But the practical part of me somehow wrestled me into boots and out of the door. I didn't enjoy the fresh air on the walk as I felt the despair of myself - the self I cannot love - in spades. But I know that the exercise and air are natural remedies for better mental health. And luckily for me, it was beautiful. Rationally and unobjectionably beautiful.

The only thing I can think of ito explain what has become a regular mood dip is that the middle of the week is when I have involved myself in the work equivalent of a mess of wool and knitting needles of activity, and if I stop every stitch will perhaps unravel, or if I continue I must be unrelenting in my commitment to progress. You can't make an omelette, etc. Perhaps that is it. It's the second Wednesday in a row when I have felt like this. I can't remember if it came on at the same time, but by the time I'm through with crying in therapy and back at home in the evening, still crying, I did remember how it feels to feel desperate and that things won't get better.

TV. Food. Sleep. I think the sleep worked this time. I didn't have anxiety in my stomach and tingling all over me the next day. That's all I've got. So that has to be good enough.

Thursday 21st January

Thursday was unusual. I had to go to Tooting for a hospital appointment and walked all the way there from home, rising very early, to try to use the walking and fresh air I know - rationally - that I have to include in my life for better mental health. My feet hurt by the time I arrived but I focussed more on hope that my brain would be flooded with positive endorphins of the exercise rather than the dull, murky and lumpy vessels of whatever chemicals are causing my depression to come back and dip my mood again. I also wondered whether two days at home consecutively had made me lonely, so I` don't know. I'm just trying a lot of things I know are good for me and hoping for a better day tomorrow if today is rubbish.

 

I had a reason to feel somewhat abnormal. I was nervous about seeing my neuro-spinal surgeon a whole year after our last meeting. He is both a brilliant surgeon and a thoroughly nice man but I was terrified that I wouldn't be deemed fit and well to have the screws taken out of my spine and afraid in equal measure that I would. I had to call my health insurer to gain an authorisation code for the surgery which is another worry for me, as the representatives are trained to the precise words that come from their mouths to offer a balance of sympathy and firmness, the latter in particular when one of them tells you that you aren't covered for that and that there is nothing that they can do, even if you might find your life at risk because of that seemingly irrational and quite silly conclusion. (To be fair this has only happened once, for suspected sleep apnoea.)

When I've got a lot on my mind, my thoughts

weight twice as much as my body

The rest of Thursday was part triumph and part disappointment. There are so many days like that, where hour to hour I feel elated one moment, but the next in a slough of despond. I had a couple of great meetings but also several where no one showed up. If this happens once, great, I can use the time to get things updated for one project or another, find the resources to fee fulfilled. Three or four cancellations, though, and I'm slightly panicked that I won't be able to achieve the things I was meant to, feeling sick. These things happen; I have to tell myself that, and that there's no reason that it's me. 

This sometimes worries me... 

I am, after all a control freak... so I can control scheduling the meeting,

but not who attends them!

Sunday 23rd January

I'm skipping forward to Sunday as its getting late and I'm very tired. Even blogging, which I love, takes energy, and I need some reserves for Monday. Continuing to try exercise for health, I  had run on Saturday morning and struggled but running on Sunday was easier. Reading through the above makes me feel sad, because it really wasn't a bad week at all, but I hate how a small thing can make me feel really dragged down. Meeting up with two lovely women from the In The Pink a cappella group to discuss International Women's Day and their performance at my work was a delight and so much fun. We laughed and shared our love of music and its powerful means to make me (and everyone) feel good. and walking around beautiful Oxford with Mat lifted me up again. Not necessarily forever, but the inspiration of music and beautiful buildings, happy memories and fantastic people are always going to be magical medication, and make me feel well again. 

Doing what I can to stay in the pink and out of the blue

So here's to another week of ups and downs that leave me somewhere along the narrow road to tomorrow. Take care. x

Thirty Five Candles. Celebrating, Not My Life, But Being Alive

Yes, THAT many candles

A year ago to the day I decided it might be a good idea for me to go into hospital for a while, because of my depression. I realised that my ability to cope with the day-to-day had become severely impaired, and that I had been more stressed than ecstatic to have my friends over to ‘celebrate’ my birthday (which is today, by the way.)

Me last year

The worst symptoms of my depression and anxiety were in full flow: I was trying to do everything possible to make everyone at my party have a good time. It had been a miserable failure of a plan, since the bouncy castle I’d organised for the fun of it and trip to the park with friends and their children all had to be called off on account of rain (just like most sports days I remember) and I was rushing around our flat instead, frantically getting drinks, food, conversations going and feeling my heart beat quicken and quicken in my chest.

Enough. Time to talk. Time to act. Time for the truth.

The final straw was when I had a wobbly moment with a good friend I thought I had offended. To a people pleaser like me, to please is the goal (a short term goal, because I believe I’m only as good as my next act of goodwill towards others) and to displease is catastrophe, causing internal combustion.

Ugh. Hate displeasing people. 

So, the next day, sitting on the sofa and tidying after the night of many drinks, laughter, conversation and lovely people, I quietly called the hospital where I see my psychiatrist and enquired about in patient care for the first time. I wasn’t a suicide risk, and I knew from past experience that my mental illness was not (is not, has never been) bad enough for me to be admitted under the NHS. I learned that there are usually beds available at the hospital. I learned I needed to speak to my insurer. I

learned that I could arrange the whole thing with relative ease. (Thank goodness. I was not well enough to do anything difficult.)

It was the first step towards admitting to myself that my depression (and anxiety, which I hadn’t even realised I had, despite running around like a headless chicken and running (literally) myself into a skinny nervous wreck of a person) had become so debilitating that work was becoming impossible, and social gatherings also a major challenge.

It’s pretty bad when you see your best friends around you and you feel utterly disconnected from them, and from the world you’re living in. Yes, I was smiling and laughing and passing around drinks, making conversations happen and passing the canapés, but all at top speed, almost as if to slow down and drink in how I genuinely felt would be as calamitous as a car smashing into me at top speed, obliterating my whole being into the mess of blood and cells and harmful thoughts that I was subconsciously aware were what made up ‘me’ at the time.

I didn’t know anyone who had ever been in hospital for mental illness, except a distant cousin’s mother of my mother, years ago, when that sort of condition meant a long term stay in the type of institution that can rarely be found anymore. I made that phone call to hospital because, practical as always, I wanted to know what my options were. I realised I couldn’t go on. It’s not ‘just the way life is’ to cry at spilled milk, spilled anything in fact, all the time, or at a lost book, a broken pencil, at the thought of getting off the sofa and walking to Marks and Spencer just across the road. It’s not normal, i.e. healthy, to dread going to work and to cry every morning about it because of the untouchable contractors who are ignoring you or bullying you with snide comments and belittling at every opportunity (well, it would be normal to dread going to work, but I would certainly say to anyone, don’t put up with it if it’s happening). I am a planner, I am practical, I am resourceful even in the face of damnable, draining and dreadful depression, and I suddenly realised that perhaps there was an option not to feel so terrible every day; not to wake up and wish that I had actually not woken up at all.

The steps on from there have been mostly documented in my posts over the last nine months or so. I have morphed into someone who not only accepts her depression as something acute and (currently) looking like it may be with me forever, despite best efforts to relieve the symptoms through medication, rest and cognitive behavioural therapy. I have also, in the last year, spoken out about it, and with every conversation (and I don’t have that many, I’m not one of those people who, when asked “How are you?” gives you a twenty minute account of the minutiae of having depression) I have felt a little more self-accepting, which is the biggie. Everyone else has been lovely. I have been hard on myself, as I always am. Do better. Do more. Do everything. Do it now.

Okay, okay, depression, I'll do it, I'll do it. Now please sod off out of here.

I’m still that person who wants to do it all, now, to perfection. I have my manic phases where my brain goes into overdrive trying to predict every possible outcome from every upcoming conversation or exchange to ensure that I have planned my behaviour to be ‘correct’ (and, really, what the hell does that mean?). If I am on a non-sedative night my legs will shake and shuffle around with restless leg syndrome that stops me from sleeping and my brain will kick in to that mode of restlessness, endless opening and closing its many filing cabinets to pull out all the items on my various to-do lists, work to be completed, meetings to be held, weight to lose, events to organise, friends to see. It’s exhausting. It’s impossible to maintain.

Take that, Depression (and, naturally, David Bowie)

That ‘me’ can’t last, so I’ve allowed some other characteristics to enter my personality: the ability to relax (okay only sometimes, but sometimes is a lot better than never); the ability to be honest about how I’m feeling, even at the risk (in my mind) that people will judge me for it and that I may never get promoted at work because I have an acute problem complicated by a catalogue of physical injuries.

You said it Cher.

But it’s worth accepting those risks, those potential, may never happen but possibly might risks, because I can’t live without changing into the ‘me’ that is sitting here, typing this on her thirty fifth birthday. I don’t know that I’d be typing anything, doing anything, if I hadn’t taken that risk and started being honest to myself and others about the fact that I do not have an unbreakable exterior shell. In fact I’m all eggshell, to be broken again and again and again.

Just because it's an awesome song. Nothing's gonna stop us!

When I blow out my candles today (and yes, of course there will be candles, because I do love birthdays even though celebrating the fact that I’m alive seems like a bad idea to me (sometimes) because I (sometimes) wish I were not) I will sit and acknowledge the past year. I’ve said ‘Here I am’ and then jumped off a cliff into the rocky seas of honest living. It’s terrifying and tricky and hard to stay afloat, and I will keep being bashed around by depression a while longer. But I made it, and if that doesn’t deserve a hot dog with all the trimmings, Champagne and a day where I celebrate being still here at all, then I don’t know what does. Happy birthday to me. Jessica, you made it. One foot in front of the other and maybe you’ll make it to 36. 

Me this year. Well, not quite, but time to dance!

Beat It: The Real Deal on Coping with Mental Illnesses

I imagine and hope that tomorrow will feature a fair amount of press coverage of 'Time to Talk' day which +Time to Change Campaign has promoted as a day where they are asking people to take 5 minutes to talk about mental health, with the hope that they will achieve a total of 24 hours of conversations in total.

So what will you be talking about tomorrow?

The three most common types of mental illness (or issues associated with mental illness) are stress, anxiety and depression. The NHS and many other useful websites promote tips on how to counter feelings of stress and anxiety (and depression, though anxiety and depression are somewhat opposite in the way a sufferer experiences them). I'm going to look at the tips, and my response to what this means for someone (me) who has suffered from all three of these conditions at one time or another:

Okay, so pretty much no one looks like this or has a sunsetting beach to run along. And she looks like she's in a female hygiene products commercial.

 Plus I bet the sand is stinging her feet. But getting active can help. 

1.  Be active:

I think physical activity is a wonderful idea. Fresh air helps and getting out and about can lift your spirits by taking you out from where you were and helping you to relax.

“BUT, I don’t think I can get out of bed. I feel terrible today. I just want to stay here and sleep.”

I've felt this often. If you can, take a shower and get dressed. That counts. And there’s a lovely feeling about feeling clean, even if you go straight back to bed afterwards. Even if you don’t have a shower but make it to the kitchen you’re doing really well. Don’t be hard on yourself if you can help it. What you're feeling and experiencing is hard enough without beating yourself up about it.

I do love a shower. Don't listen to my husband saying that northerners are unclean. We do wash. Well, sometimes. 

2.  Take control

The NHS says ‘There’s a solution to any problem’. This is true, for the most part, but you do need to read the tips on managing your time and calming yourself before you can do anything.

“BUT how can I take control when everything is overwhelming. There is no solution to my problem. I don’t know what to do and I can’t stop panicking.”

If you’re massively stressed or anxious your brain cannot think straight to do this, so it’s time for deep breathing and water first, and calming yourself down, before you start to think about taking control or the steps to do so. Again, take care of yourself. You're not well enough to start addressing the things in your life that feel out of control if your anxiety/depression is 8-10 on a scale of 1-10. 

If only this button did what we all really wanted it to do...

3.  Connect with People

Talking can definitely help.  The NHS says: 'A good support network of colleagues, friends and family can ease your work troubles and help you see things in a different way.'

“BUT, I don’t feel like leaving the house to talk to people and I don’t want to talk to anyone right now.”

“BUT, I don’t have anyone I can talk to about this.”

It can be hard to reach out when you feel dreadful. I have been there. It still happens to me now. But talking does really help even if it’s hard to get started. And if you don’t feel like you have anyone to talk to / anyone you can talk to, organisations like the Samaritans are there and someone you don't know, but has been trained to be there for you in hard times can help. The main thing is, do try not to let all the negative feelings build up inside you. Sometimes I just say to my husband: "I'm having a bad day," and nothing more. But it means I have stopped feeling like my feelings are choking me from the inside because I have given them a voice.

Yes, your Facebook page is fascinating. 

Now can you help me? I've got third degree burns from holding my tea cup all this time.

4.  Have some 'me' time. 

Apparently we UK inhabitants work the longest hours in Europe. And it’s true, we do, and it doesn’t help. The NHS recommends doing what you can do to take time out.

“BUT, I’m worried I might lose my job if I want to work shorter hours to take time out for me. I need to check my emails even outside of work to make sure I stay on top of things “

You do need to take time out even if it’s sitting on the loo for 5 minutes. Continuing to be stressed or feeling bad without giving yourself some sort of break (even if a short one) to change your scenery and remove yourself from difficult situations is crucial. You can also get outside at lunchtime. And leave your phone. You wouldn’t be able to answer it if you were in a meeting, would you? So give yourself a break. You may not always be able to relax during ‘me’ time, because learning to relax is another thing you will have to master gradually if you're used to feeling tense all the time. I'm not great at relaxing - and I used to be dreadful at it! Try not to give yourself to hard a time about this.

Even if you're having 'me time' on the loo. 

Which obviously I'm not going to post an image of here.

5. Challenge Yourself

The NHS recommends setting yourself goals and challenges. In some cases I think this is a great idea. Ask yourself, what do I want? Is there something different that I could do to make my life more worthwhile to me?

"BUT, I'm overwhelmed as it is. I cannot deal with adding more challenges. I just cannot take on anything more because I can't cope. Please don't ask me to add more to what I'm going through."

It is tough to face the future, even the next few hours or the next day, when you're very low or anxious. The negative thoughts can be overwhelming and goals and challenges do seem hard. I find this one horrendous sometimes because I already feel overwhelmed. But even if it's only a goal to get across the road to the newsagent to buy yourself a chocolate bar, getting up, or picking up the phone to call a friend, try to do something. That something is a goal. Or maybe a holiday to look forward to. If you can do it - great. And again, just don't give yourself a hard time if you can't. You might need to calm and soothe yourself first. I know that's how it is for me.

Sometimes getting out of bed feels like this. 

But luckily with fewer ice picks and more blankets. Brrr!

6.  Avoid unhealthy habits

The NHS says: "Don't rely on alcohol, smoking and caffeine as your ways of coping."

"BUT, a cigarette / a glass of wine helps me calm down at the end of the day. I like having it. Why can't I do it?"

The NHS is right - these are temporary releases which won't actually help in the end. Caffeine will make you jumpier if you're already anxious. I've given it up because it interferes with my medication and I'm tired of being so jumpy. I don't smoke, but I used to drink nearly every day. Now I've radically cut down on the alcohol because I've realised it is dangerous for me to mix too much alcohol with medication. Unfortunately I like wine and food in equal measures. And for goodness sake we are only human. But take care of your health in these matters - because adding to your existing problems with potential health problems or addiction will not help. 

7.  Help Other People

I really believe in this one. I've found that helping other people in some way, even if it's only holding the door and getting a thank you in return, would make me feel better momentarily. It's for this reason also that I've tried to volunteer for Mind and Time to Change: helping to raise awareness of mental health is important to me, and the thought that I might help other people is something that can lift me in my darkest times.

"BUT, how can I help other people when I'm in this state? I can't even help myself!"

Even the smallest things like putting a duvet over your partner in the middle of the night when it's fallen off and he's cold, feeding your cat, making a cup of tea for someone, is being helpful. Try to remember that and give yourself a break.

We can all help in small ways. Some ways are very cute. Like this.

8.  Work Smarter, Not Harder

Good time management is not something everyone has, but the NHS reminds us that "You have to get a work-life balance that suits you."

"BUT, I've got so many other commitments, I can't possibly work 'smarter' because I just have too much on! You don't know what it's like for me."

It's great to try to be efficient, to consider what really matters. However, when you're ill sometimes you can only do so much. Just try to work out - with help from others around you - what is important for you to get done now, and where you can get help for this, and make a note of other times that you can get done the most pressing things, again with help from others. The most important thing is to try to alleviate some of the pressures that you're feeling. Mind has some great tips on this. It's hard to generalise on this one: if you're a city banker or lawyer you likely feel you can't take any time out at all, but remembering that you got hired for a reason and that you are a smart person is important. Take a breath and reflect on that. And do take a break (even if just for five minutes) to do deep breathing before you try and tackle that mountainous 'To-Do' list.

9. Be Positive

"Are you serious? How can I be positive at a time like this? I feel so dreadful. Everything is awful and I just don't want to be here anymore. It's all too much."

The NHS says 'People don't always accept what they have.' Yep. That would be true. I am not thinking about my house, my husband and my great job when I'm miserable and ill. I doubt even people with a cold aren taking time out to feel grateful for any of these things when their noses are snotty and they're coughing and spluttering with a killer headache. Whatever the illness, we're all in it together feeling like crap and how on earth can we get ourselves out of it? Again, it's important to calm or soothe yourself first before you can try to think positively. This isn't easy at all. I have needed help from a therapist and a good psychiatrist to help me to see myself and my outlook more rationally and more positively. And I can't do it quite a lot of the time. It takes work, so start this kind of thinking, using techniques like mindfulness when you are feeling a bit less ill so that you can actually participate in them.

You can't always get what you want. But if you try sometimes...

10. Accept the things you can't change.

"Changing a situation isn't always possible," the NHS says. Again, Yep. 

"BUT, I can't do anything about my work, I can't change my family situation."
"I'm stuck and I can't get out."

I think the NHS is right here. There are going to be things you can't change and hard as they are to accept, we just have to try. We just need to make it to the next day (or the next hour). And then the next. I think acceptance, particularly self-acceptance is the most important step in dealing with mental health.

Above all, we can all play a part in continuing to talk about mental health de-stigmatising mental illnesses. It's not something to fear, to shun, to avoid, to pretend it doesn't exist. It doesn't mean you can't do a great job, be a great parent, live a good life, make a difference. It doesn't even mean you can't be happy.

Mental health illnesses are complex and difficult. But not talking about them worsens the condition, so please think about that and talk about it tomorrow and the next day and the next. Let's keep talking.