Tag: mental health

Exercise and mental health: overcoming barriers

'A Poetic Potter & A Potting Poet'Leave a comment

First published 1st February 2021

Photo by JESHOOTS.com on Pexels.com

The health benefits of exercise are well recognised.

Exercise also keeps the brain and your other vital organs healthy.

Experts believe exercise releases chemicals in your brain that make you feel good. Regular exercise can boost your self-esteem and help you concentrate, sleep and feel better.

“I get a huge buzz from my rock ’n’ roll class. Hours later, my legs ache, but I’m still smiling.”

Exercising doesn’t just mean doing sport or going to the gym. Walks in the park, gardening or housework can also keep you active.

Experts say most people should do about 30 minutes’ exercise at least five days a week.

Try to make physical activity that you enjoy a part of your day.

[Source: 2. Keep active | Mental Health Foundation]

We all know this and are likely to have had direct experience of these benefits. 

Why, then, can it still be so difficult to find the motivation to exercise?

It’s an issue that I’ve struggled with all my life, experiencing barriers associated with body image when I was younger.  I knew swimming was good exercise but would only ever go to a swimming pool or wear a swimsuit on a beach if I’d starved myself to be thin enough to feel able to do that. And even then, I felt morbidly self-conscious about how I looked.  It took a long time and a lot of working through masses amount of personal ‘stuff’ before I could stop worrying and start enjoying swimming. My partner and I even go wild swimming now, and it feels wonderful.

I tried jogging but always found it so hard to build myself up to a regular routine. Lacking in willpower and discipline some people might say.  Struggling with severe depression, anxiety and low self-esteem was the real reason.  I’ve continued to struggle ever since, but have also never given up. Now 65, I’ve been doing on-line exercise classes, including yoga and pilates during lockdown.  Last summer we did some cycling around our local lanes.  We still both find that it’s an effort to go out, sometimes, but give each other a push and/or moral support when we need it.  Whatever it takes. 

What’s the alternative?  An inactive old age with all the complications that brings?

I’ve always found it difficult to go to a gym or to exercise classes after work. Just getting through a day involved such a major effort for me.  So, I looked for ways to combine exercise into my daily routine.  Cycling to work meant that I often turned up looking like a drowned rat, but it did help.

Even so, I continued to struggle with depression and continued to find it hard to motivate myself to exercise enough to help it lift on anything more than a temporary basis.  I felt like the only way I could sustain the ‘lift’ would be to train as if I was an Olympic athlete.  I have neither the physique nor the talent to be anything remotely akin to athletic and, like most people, have had to commit a significant amount of my time to earning a living and keeping up with the usual day to day domestic activities.

There were times as well when I felt that the more I exercised, the deeper my depression went, after the initial ‘buzz’ fell away. 

I continued to have to do a lot of work to try and shift it, with exercise being one of a number of tools and techniques that I’ve tried and tested over the years.  It has been, and continues to be, a lifetime endeavour.  I think that this is in part because of the way emotions are stored in the body, a matter which has been increasingly recognised and written about including the following article by Sean Grover (2018):

For years, I’ve made a study of where people tend to store their unwanted emotions. Certainly, not all body aches or illnesses are psychosomatic. However, as I studied people’s bodily reactions to stress, recurring patterns emerged.

Healthy vs. Unhealthy Repression

Fear is the driving force behind repression, and is frequently rooted in your past. Repression is often necessary, particularly when you feel overwhelmed or experience trauma. But an overdependence on repression fuels psychosomatic symptoms and self-destructive patterns.

[Source:Where Do You Store Stress in Your Body? Top 10 Secret Areas | Psychology Today]

In his article in Psychology Today, Sean Grover goes on to identify the ‘Top 10 Tension Areas for Unwanted Feelings’ as:

1.Lower Back: Anger
2. Stomach & Intestines: Fear
3. Heart & Chest: Hurt
4. Headache: Loss of control
5. Neck/Shoulder Tension: Burdens
6. Fatigue: Resentments
7. Numbness: Trauma
8. Breathing Difficulties: Anxiety
9. Voice & Throat Problems: Oppression
10. Insomnia: Loss of self

I find this interesting and helpful, relating these areas to recent and past experiences.

I did a lot of work on repressed anger at one point, including going to a workshop where I was encouraged to take a lot of it out on a punch bag.  The physicality of the release at the time was phenomenal (although I did go into a kind of ‘toxic shock’ afterwards, so I would not recommend anyone trying this approach without a very strong support network around them).

Some years later, experiencing stress at work, I searched out volunteering opportunities, finding an outlet by doing trail maintenance work where I could break big rocks into smaller rocks to make hardcore with a sledgehammer.  I came back refreshed and invigorated. Although the effects did wear off after a while, I have so far – touch wood – not suffered from lower back problems.

Fatigue and resentments strike a chord with me – I’m so good at hanging on to them, no wonder I feel tired all the time!

So, while I’ve done a lot of work on myself to get to this point, and to feel largely positive about the position I’m in, there’s still a lot to do.

It’s often the enormity – or perceived enormity of the challenge – that puts us off dealing with it, which leads to repression, which leads to depression….

There are no easy answers or quick fix solutions, especially when difficulties are deep-rooted.  I just keep reminding myself that it’s all about the next step. And the one after that. And the one after that.  It does get easier.  Miraculously – it feels to me – my steps feel a lot lighter, at the age I’m at now, than they did when I was young, all those years ago! Something must be working, somehow. Barriers can be overcome. It’s not easy, but it’s worth working at it, bit by bit.

Being 65

'A Poetic Potter & A Potting Poet'Leave a comment

First published 6th January 2021

Photo by Robert Laszlo on Pexels.com

In one sense, this post should just be entitled ‘Being’, because age is irrelevant.

I interact with the world essentially as a being, and don’t need a label.

On the other hand, I do have history, and the ways that I have worked through that history impact on the way that I interact with the world – and other beings in it – on a daily basis.

It isn’t always easy to put the past behind us, especially when heavily loaded with emotions associated with trauma and grief.

Accepting things that I cannot change has been a hard life lesson to learn for me, helped by meditation, affirmations, and Buddhist teachings (including one in particular by Gen Togden of the Kadampa tradition).

Not having had children is a major regret. Raising this as an issue with a therapist recently, still needing to work it through, I was met with a profoundly uncompassionate response: “So you decided not to have them then, did you?”

At one level, she was right. I made choices – decisions – that led to me being in a state of extreme mental and emotional turmoil in my late 30s and 40s. Decisions that I made as a struggling, vulnerable young woman in my 20s were mine, and I was an adult. But should I really have had to pay such a high price in later life?

Shit does happen though, and doesn’t discriminate. Thankfully, I have had previous experiences with other counsellors/therapists who’ve approached my distress with humanity and empathy.

Even so, some things take a long time to work through. Some ‘stuff’ from the past has just come up that I thought I’d put behind me, or at least wanted to. It doesn’t always work like that though, and I’m sure my brain dredged it up now because I hadn’t properly dealt with it previously.

Now I’m in a much better place than I have ever been before, living with a kind, loving, supportive, funny partner. Being 65 is a starting point for me, and it’s never too late.

If I can send out a message to anyone who’s going through personal difficulties – whether recently experienced or long-term endured – it is to say: “Don’t give up.”

We don’t always know what we’re made of until our backs are to the wall, especially if we’ve oriented towards ‘flight’ rather than ‘fight’ in early years.

Fighting for survival is a primary motivator and there is always light at the end of the tunnel. Even if you can’t see it for yourself, let someone else – a friend – see it and hold it for you until you can.

I’m only 65, and I’ve got all my life ahead of me. So have you.

Day 28

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Continuing the story of Lydia and Me

On the 28th day in my latest cycle of “Writing for Life”, I reflect on how far I’ve come.

For a long time, I thought and hoped that I would eventually arrive at a point of ‘recovery’ from the difficulties and distress that I’ve been working through for most of my life.

It hasn’t worked out like that though; in fact, it’s worked out better.

I’m still not and probably never will be a ‘morning person’. I need a lot of time to rest in bed, even if I’m not sleeping.  I don’t ‘seize the day’ with a leap and a jump but it doesn’t matter.  I let myself be what I am while still working steadily on turning old, ingrained patterns into new ones.  Big cogs take a longer time to turn and I do what I can when I can, in positive ways.

Rather than ‘recover’ to a known point, I’ve grown into the unknown; a place that is at times unfamiliar and uncomfortable. This opens up possibilities for further growth, pushing me to experience much more of life than I ever could have imagined.

It’s taken a massive amount of energy and effort and every last bit of motivation that I can muster, but I know that I have gone a long way towards training my mind and will keep doing just that.

While I take a short break from writing my daily blog, I’ll republish earlier posts. I’ll also be putting together paperback versions of my two latest books, available on Amazon for Kindle and Kindle Unlimited:

https://amzn.eu/d/0WFLADz

https://amzn.eu/d/aD4H94B

Thank you for your support.  See you soon.

Day 3

'A Poetic Potter & A Potting Poet'Leave a comment

Continuing the story of Lydia and Me

Last year I was given a great gift.

It was wrapped up in special packaging: a teaching and meditation morning at a Buddhist centre.

The teaching carried in it a message that helped me to put to rest something that I’d been struggling with for decades.

I’d thought, for a long time, that I would never be able to put right mistakes that I’d made in the past because they were too big; too major.  I thought that I’d fallen and failed early on in my life and all my efforts to rebuild had failed too. Despite doing my best to push through on positives for a long time, it had never been enough.

Then, suddenly, there it was, in the teaching that morning.  It was possible for me to put the past behind me and be happy in the present.  All I had to do was develop a calm and peaceful mind.

That teaching gave me hope, when I needed hope, and I’ve been building on it ever since.

That doesn’t mean that I am suddenly happy and joyful all the time.  You don’t go through a lifetime of struggling with complex mental health and emotional difficulties without that struggle alone taking its toll.  But I now allow myself to feel lighter, have stopped berating myself, stopped feeling responsible for everything that goes ‘wrong’ or has gone ‘wrong’ in the past.

For a long time, friends have told me that I deserved to be happy, but there was something so badly hurt, and at such a deep level, that it’s taken a long, long time for that place of hurt to be finally exposed to a point of healing, and for that healing to start taking place.

Tonight is a meeting of the Buddhist group that I go to, which is an outreach from the Centre that I went to last year[i].

I’ve already had a good day today, and I have that to look forward to this evening. 

Some gifts just keep on giving.

[i] Madhyamaka Centre, Pocklington, UK

Rules, Rhymes, Recovery, Recipe, Random – Glad About Life: https://amzn.eu/d/6Ptwe4S

Woman, a Dog & a Blog – Writing into Life: https://amzn.eu/d/63qIYzR

Sleeping

'A Poetic Potter & A Potting Poet'Leave a comment

First published 27 May 2020

Ironically, I’ve recently been feeling too tired to write about what I have wanted to write about: sleep. Until today.

Breaking the cycle of inactivity is massively difficult during a period of depression. It feels impossible to know what to do or where to start that will make any difference in any meaningful and lasting way. And then sleeplessness takes hold and so it goes on.

I still have variable experiences of being able to get to sleep, and sleep long and deep enough to feel rested. However, any current difficulties I have are nothing compared to what it was like for me, years ago, when I became addicted to sleeping pills (Triazepam).

In the end, to detox, I took myself to Turkey in the hot season, walked and sweated for miles and eventually screamed myself off them.

The process of detox itself, especially in unsupported circumstances, is very dangerous, and, to anyone contemplating taking tranquilizers of any kind, I would say, “Don’t!”.

It might be easy for me to say that now, as I did take them then and felt that I needed to – desperately – at the time. Maybe I did. But that was before I had explored all the other options and possibilities, mainly because I didn’t know about them.

There is much more awareness and access to mental health coping strategies than there used to be over twenty years ago when I was going through some extreme experiences. Meditation courses and apps, Cognitive Behaviour Therapy, affirmations (I use these a lot), talking therapies, the benefits of exercise and so on. Even so, despite drawing on these approaches and applying them in my day-to-day life as best as I can, I don’t always sleep well.

Now, though, I’m much more able to sit or lie with the lack of sleep and rest into it, be patient with it, rather than going for a quick fix with all the associated draw backs. If I’m really struggling to settle, I might get up, watch a bit of telly (reading is usually out of the question at these times, such is the impact of depression on my capacity to concentrate), make a cup of tea or – even better – hot chocolate. I also occasionally indulge in a glass or two of wine or a gin and tonic. (I’m conscious of the drawbacks and addictive aspects of alcohol reliance but it does sometimes do the trick; a couple of paracetamols – again as a very occasional alternative and never at the same time as alcohol – also eventually send me off.)

I’m gradually working towards having a kinder and more balanced relationship with myself, doing what I can to be good to my body and my brain. I work on being thankful, get my brain into ‘glad’ mode and accept that I am getting “there”, which is “here”, with every day a blessing.

It is much easier for the me that I am now, than the me that I was twenty years ago, to not fall back on the quick fixes, partly because I have worked hard to find out about and put self-management strategies into practice and partly because I am in a much better place on a personal level. It is much easier to get to sleep on an evening, knowing that in the morning I will wake up in my partner’s loving arms.

Maybe there was a time when I did shoot the Albatross, and paid the price. But sleep is a very gentle thing, and doing my best to let sleep slide into my soul is part of an essential process of healing.

A Woman, a Dog & a Blog – Writing into Life:
https://amzn.eu/d/6Ho21L

Rules, Rhymes, Recovery, Recipe, Random – Glad About Life: https://amzn.eu/d/6Ptwe4S

 

I’m Glad

'A Poetic Potter & A Potting Poet'Leave a comment

First published 21 March 2020

It’s not my real name, but ‘Glad’ is better than sad, and I’ve worked hard in my life to be Glad, not sad.

I’ve recently started decorating my house – our house. This may not seem like an amazing revelation or achievement, but it is for me. I’m 64 years old and have had a long struggle to be able to enjoy doing the everyday things that I can focus on now.

It’s taken about fifty years of unlearning and then re-learning how to be me. Poetry hasn’t been the only vehicle I’ve used for recovery and discovery, but it has been a regular companion along the way.

As a teenager – like many teenagers since and still – I developed a very negative self-image of myself, inside and out.

Out

Out, out into the world
That’s where I wanted to go
What I wanted to do
When I was young
But when I looked in the mirror
All I could see
Was an ugly, unattractive body
Looking back at me

I went on a diet from the age of about 15 that lasted for the next 30 years or so, and affected every aspect of my life (or more accurately non-life that it had become). I didn’t think I had anything to offer as a person, didn’t know how to form relationships, and put all my energy into losing weight. At least if I was thin, that would be something. Except it led to nothing, because it wasn’t solid ground on which to build a life. It was the best I could do at the time, but I did eventually realise, after I’d had a major breakdown in my late thirties, and was trying to get myself going again in my forties, that I needed to eat, to give me energy, to be able to live. I had to finally, eventually, push through that awful sense of self-loathing that I associated with putting on weight in order to emerge as a (literally as well as generally) well-rounded person with an appetite for life.

I still have to work at it, still take anti-depressants, can’t use shop changing rooms or look at myself naked in a mirror, but on the whole this does not affect my ability to enjoy my life – with my partner – and try to make the most of every day.

I can still very easily cut myself off, go into ‘zombie’ mode, more readily associate with entropy than energy, so decorating my house – however long it takes – and writing this blog – wherever it takes me – are positive signs of engagement; action rather than inaction.

I hope my poems and other musings may resonate with anyone who has struggled to find their own identity and path through life. I know now that there are endless possibilities and I hope that the following poem (in six parts) helps to show how important it is for each of us to find our fighting spirit:

Jacket 1
It’s there, on the chair
The red fleece jacket
With hood and drawstring waist
That I don’t want to wear
Don’t want to keep

It’s warm and soft when I put it on
But far too big for me
Drowned in a red sea
Shapeless, I feel
A baggy, saggy, faceless entity

I look at the jacket
On the chair
In limp, loose folds of red, and seams
This isn’t the jacket of my dreams

It’s theirs to wear
Not mine to keep
Their tears to cry
Not mine to weep

It’s there, on the chair
The red fleece jacket
With hood and drawstring waist
That I don’t want to wear
Don’t want to keep
So I’ve put a price on its head
To let it go free
To someone who wants it
But when will that be?

Jacket 2
It’s there, on the chair
The red fleece jacket
With hood and drawstring waist
That I don’t want to wear
Don’t want to keep

It’s warm and soft when I put it on
But far too big for me
Drowned in a red sea
Shapeless, I feel
A baggy, saggy, faceless entity

I look at the jacket
On the chair
In limp, loose folds of red, and seams
This isn’t the jacket of my dreams

It’s not my layer
These aren’t my lies
With drawstring waist
And nylon ties

It’s not my jacket
They’re not my dreams
These aren’t my ties
They’re not my seams

So I leave the jacket
On the chair
To go my way
While they go theirs

Jacket 3
Now it hangs upon the door
That red fleece jacket
That I didn’t want to wear
Didn’t want to keep

It’s warm and soft when I put it on
And not too big for me
Warmed in a red sea
Shapeless no more
No baggy, saggy faceless entity

I look at the jacket
On the door
In limp, loose folds of red, and seams
It’s not the jacket of my dreams
But just a layer to keep me warm
From frozen looks
And glares of scorn

It is my jacket
With hood and waist
To wear a while
From place to place

Jacket 4
What next?

Jacket 5
Jacket in?

Jacket 6
No!

Gladabout.life blog posts from March 2020 to September 2024 are now available as an e-book on Amazon for Kindle:

Rules, Rhymes, Recovery, Recipe, Random: Glad About Life

https://amzn.eu/d/av9oEZU

Day 28

'A Poetic Potter & A Potting Poet'Leave a comment

Continuing the story of Lydia and Me

As this 28-day cycle of journaling/blogging comes to a close, I reflect on how far I’ve come in being able to make the most of every day as I do, after the journey of mental health breakdown and recovery that I’ve had, for most of my so far 69 years.

I’m now going to have a short break from writing while I put together a two-volume book of the story of Lydia and me so far. While I’m doing this, I will re-post a blog from the past every day.

A full collection of my earlier blogs, from March 2020 to September 2024, is now available on Amazon for Kindle:

Rules, Rhymes, Recovery, Recipe, Random: Glad About Life https://amzn.eu/d/gAIIf8A

‘Rules’ came originally from a set of ‘self-management rules’ that I devised, largely to reflect on some of the very negative experiences I’d had of being managed by others. I later developed these Rules into ‘Poetry Rules’, relating them to poems that I wrote or had previously written.

‘Rhymes’ are my poems, even though not all my poems rhyme.  I just like writing them, expressing myself through words in whatever way I choose.

‘Recovery’ pieces reflect on different approaches and factors that influence mental health and wellbeing, including barriers to recovery.

‘Recipe’ is largely focused on one dish, but it’s an important one: Leftovers Soup.

‘Random’ – well, anything that didn’t quite fit in to the other categories but wanted to include anyway.

Step by step, day by day, the story of Lydia and me continues, and I’ll continue to record it at https://gladabout.life/.

Bon voyage!

Day 26

'A Poetic Potter & A Potting Poet'Leave a comment

Continuing the story of Lydia and Me

Lydia woke me at about 1.30am, with a gentle nudge from her nose.

I thought she must need to go outside for a pee but as I started off downstairs, I realised she wasn’t following me. When I went back into the bedroom she was rolled over, ready for me to tickle her tummy; give her a “rub-a-dub-dub” massage that she’s growing to love. So I did.

Now, I realise I probably shouldn’t be encouraging disturbances to my sleep in this way, but then again she asked so nicely, and I do think we are approaching a breakthrough position with addressing her anxiety. So, I give her plenty of “rub-a-dub-dubs” before reintroducing her to the idea of “sleepy time”.

This afternoon, I had a good play session with my steam cleaner. It’s almost as good fun as a pressure washer and the bathroom is now clean.

After a shower – in my now clean bathroom – and an early change into pj’s, I sat outside for a while, reading.

I finished the autobiography that I’ve been reading for a couple of weeks. It ended with an account of an inquest into the death of a family member. The writer’s loss is immeasurable, as is the courage and humanity shown by him and his family. Re-engaging with life, through grief, isn’t easy, but they are doing it. Every day, they are doing it.

My book, Train your dog; train your mind – positive reinforcement for humans and canines – is now available in paperback: https://amzn.eu/d/eQ2sWjU and for Kindle https://amzn.eu/d/99yW3Qk.

I don’t claim to be a dog trainer or a mind trainer – I’m just a woman with a dog who writes a blog, and has written a book, about life, and about being glad.

Day 21

'A Poetic Potter & A Potting Poet'Leave a comment

Continuing the story of Lydia and me

Keeping things simple is key for me just now. I can’t cope with complicated nor do I want to.

What better way, then, than to enjoy the company of friends, as I have done this weekend.

Yesterday I visited a friend – a fellow Ceramic Artist – at the Dovecot Gallery, near Doncaster, where she was exhibiting. It was a summer show in a garden setting, full of colour and creativity.

Today a friend and I visited a friend of hers. We sat together for about four hours, talking. Just talking. It was lovely to have a three-way conversation, each of us bringing in thoughts and ideas from our lives and experience.

My Ceramic Artist friend is a year or two older than me, so in her early 70’s. She started out in her career with clay just a few years ago. Rarely have I come across anyone more passionate about what they do.

My friend’s friend is about 10 years younger than us. Unlike me, she doesn’t enjoy good physical health, but she doesn’t let that stop her expressing herself through her art. She is a talented Textile Artist as well as a dog lover and owner of four canine companions.

While I aim in this blog to be positive about pushing through into a position of mental health recovery that I’ve been working towards most of my life, at the moment I’m struggling to get my brain to function.

Despite enjoying the company of friends, despite the wonderful weather, despite the woodland walk I had with Lydia this morning, I’ve hit a wall.

At least though, now, I know it won’t last, that I just need to rest – which I will – and tomorrow will be another day.

Looking across at Lydia, as I write, she is looking back at me. I’ll give her some more “rub-a-dub-dub” massages later, to help soothe her vagus nerve and I’ll keep doing what I need to do to help soothe mine too.

Train your dog; train your mind – positive reinforcement for humans and canines – now available in paperback: https://amzn.eu/d/eQ2sWjU.

The Kindle version is currently for sale at £0.99 on a Kindle Countdown deal https://amzn.eu/d/99yW3Qk.