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 found that list helpful then, and I do now.
Historically I’ve had a long struggle with anger. I’ve done a lot to address this, as I described in my blog from 2021, and continue to do so.
I’ve recently worked through sudden surges of fear and anxiety, as described in my book, Train your dog; train your mind – positive reinforcement for humans and canineshttps://amzn.eu/d/eQ2sWjUhttps://amzn.eu/d/99yW3Qk. (also available for Kindle, see below)
I don’t have any problems with my stomach and intestines, nor breathing difficulties. I used to suffer from fatigue but don’t anymore, generally sleep well, never get headaches and am altogether faring very – and thankfully – well for my 69 years.
I could just be lucky and, in many ways, I know that I am. I am very very fortunate to have the robust and healthy body that I have. But I have also done a lot to work through negative emotions, as well as finding ways that work for me to keep my body fit and healthy.
Having established a basic pattern – incorporating Qigong, yoga and walking – into my weekly routine, I’m sticking to it.
A step at a time, a day at time. It’s amazing how it builds up until you realise that you don’t have to make quite so much effort that you used to have to make, because a lot of the inner resistance has gone.
As I write, Lydia lies sleeping on the floor in front of me. She rests and sleeps a lot but she’s approximately 10 years old. She readily jumps in and out of the car with ease, rolls around in the dog park, runs about wearing her ‘happy legs’ as I call them. She’s booked in for a routine health check at the vets next week but I’m fairly confident she has no issues with her heart or digestive system (I make sure that good stuff goes in and monitor what comes out). She continues to have fear and anger issues on sight of her triggers: other dogs, some people, moving vehicles.
We’ll keep working on our residual tension areas, together.
It probably won’t be easy, but we’ll do it, step by step, day by day.
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.
Having identified a priority for Lydia of giving her more body rubs and gentle massage, I introduced these during our walk today.
So, as well as continuing to reinforce “heel” and “watch”, using some of her daily food allowance combined with tasty treats for rewards, I stopped a few times during the walk to rub around her neck, ears and lower abdomen.
This had an immediate calming effect. I also made sure that I gave her lots of verbal encouragement as we were walking along: “we’re OK Lydia”, “yes, good girl, we’re doing OK”, repeated often.
This evening, after we’d had our respective meals, Lydia came up to me while I was sitting on the settee, and I gave her some more rubs, all around her ears and down her spine. She sat there for ages while I did this – a far cry from when we first got her, when she would not have been able to accept this kind of attention at all. She came back for a little bit more rubbing and some brushing, and then started barking – an invitation I have come to realise, at this time of an evening, to have a bit of a play.
We played ‘tuggie’ with an old towel for a while, then she settled down.
At my Qigong class today, we started by giving our knees a gentle rub. As Sue, the teacher said, this was an acknowledgement that we were going to be kind to ourselves, to our bodies, for an hour, doing gentle movements under gentle guidance.
I haven’t always found it easy to care for myself; I used to have a tendency to push myself too hard, and to look after others’ needs first. While I continue to want to look out for and care for others, including Lydia, I also recognise now, particularly at this stage of my life, that I need to look after myself as a priority.
So, I have had a good ‘Mental Health Monday’, with a lovely walk around and through a wood; a yoga session which concentrated on developing strength and flexibility in the spine; and a Qigong class which incorporated a range of movements to open up the shoulder blades, promoting a calmer mind through working with the body and the breath.
I’m hopeful that I’m helping Lydia to have a calmer mind too.
Lydia had a chance to run about without harness or lead this morning, in a secure dog field.
I love to see her using what I call her ‘happy legs’, as she trots around, rolls about, sniffs, sniffs and sniffs some more.
While she is doing what she wants to do, I do some exercises for my knees. I’m still applying the ‘wear and tear’ gel to the backs of my knees, taking a joint care supplement, and saying the affirmation: “My knee is healing and getting stronger each passing day”. This combination of attention to my knees seems to be working. My right knee – the one that I was having some problems with a few weeks ago – is much improved. Again, I reflect on how lucky I am, at the age of 69, to have the level of fitness and health in my body that I have.
During difficult times mentally and emotionally it can be hard to look after ourselves physically. Well, that’s my experience anyway and earlier blogs refer to evidence that supports this.
And, of course, it is in those times that we most need to look after ourselves in all aspects, so that we can have the chance to recover into a good place.
If it wasn’t for Lydia, I would have nowhere near the level of physical fitness that I have at the present time. Taking her for a walk every day – even if it isn’t a particularly long or strenuous one – has helped me both physically and mentally. The training and learning we’re doing together helps to keep us both mentally stimulated and strengthens the bond between us.
I gave her some good neck and leg rubs this morning while we were out in the dog field. She settled down into the massage, then shortly afterwards went for another run and a roll.
I’ve read a little bit about the vagus nerve and the part it plays in regulating a dog’s nervous system.
I’m doing some of the things that are recommended to help support her nervous system. She is generally quite calm in most situations these days, including now as she is lying outside in the back yard, enjoying some sunshine and not even barking at the birds. Progress!
As for me, well I think my vagus nerve may be over-stimulated and not well-regulated, but I will keep working on it, doing my best to remain as calm as possible, even under difficult circumstances.
Coming back to knees, I came across an online article, published recently by the Knee Pain Centers of America (The Psychological Impact of Knee Pain and How to Cope) which identifies a link between stress and knee pain:
Stress plays a crucial role in the experience and management of chronic knee pain, affecting both physical and emotional health. When an individual encounters stress, the body activates the hypothalamic–pituitary–adrenal (HPA) axis, leading to increased secretion of cortisol, the primary stress hormone. Elevated cortisol levels over time can contribute to tissue degeneration, muscle wasting, and persistent inflammation, all of which can exacerbate knee pain.
Psychologically, stress is closely linked with emotional disturbances like anxiety and depression. These mental health issues can alter pain perception, often intensifying the sensation of pain through neurochemical pathways. Depression, in particular, involves cytokine imbalance and neurotransmitter dysregulation, which can make pain feel more severe and reduce motivation for physical activity.
Moreover, chronic knee pain can itself influence mental health adversely. Limitations in movement and daily activities may lead to social withdrawal, loneliness, and feelings of helplessness. This emotional distress feeds back into the physical aspect, worsening inflammation and pain, and setting up a vicious cycle.
However, research indicates that managing stress through lifestyle modifications, engaging in regular, low-impact physical activity, and psychosocial strategies can break this cycle. Techniques such as mindfulness, relaxation exercises, and support groups have shown to alleviate stress, reduce inflammation, and improve both mental well-being and joint health.
Referring to strategies to reduce stress and its impact on knee health, the article notes:
Effective strategies include engaging in mindfulness-based exercises such as yoga and tai chi, which promote joint flexibility and mental calmness. Maintaining a healthy lifestyle with weight management, smoking cessation, and regular exercise helps lower stress levels and protect joint integrity.
Supportive therapies like cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT) help reframe negative thought patterns about pain, reducing catastrophizing and emotional distress. Additionally, social support networks and participation in support groups can provide emotional resilience, helping individuals cope better.
Incorporating these approaches into comprehensive treatment plans addressing both physical and mental health aspects yields better outcomes, reducing pain severity, improving mood, and fostering overall well-being.
Therefore I seem to be doing quite a few things right to help maintain healthy knees. I’ve still got a lot to work on but I am doing what I can, when I can.
The identified strategy also brings to mind and – to my mind – supports the principle of affirmations. Affirmations help to reframe negative thought patterns and I am committed to continuing to do that, for myself, for my knees and for my dog.
My knee is healing and getting stronger each passing day.
As I write, my beautiful girl is crunching her way through a dental chew.
The chew is bone shaped. I did quite a lot of internet searching to find out about different brands, and this is one of the brands that got the best reviews. She has good teeth, and I want to help her to look after them.
I’ve struggled a bit with looking after my own teeth in the past.
I previously wrote a blog post about this, and about other aspects of self-care within the context of mental distress:
At that time, there was a mental health update strategy in progress with a claim that mental health would be included in an overall ‘major conditions’ strategy that will focus on ‘whole-person care’.
There is now a Policy paper ‘Major conditions strategy: case for change and our strategic framework’ (Updated 21 August 2023) that includes common mental health conditions and severe mental illness (SMI).
There is some reassurance in the reference to reducing risks earlier in life, and it is also noted that:
“… access to physical healthcare is particularly important for people with SMI. The NHS LTP sets out a transformation programme to develop integrated models of care and holistic support closer to home. The major conditions strategy will outline how to do more to implement physical health support across mental health pathways.”
So, there’s a long way to go but at least there does seem to be some movement in the right direction, hopefully for future generations and hopefully for some people sooner than that.
In the here and now, I continue with my own strategy to manage my health and wellbeing, relying on only minimal, but still welcome, support from the system in the form of anti-depressant medication.
However, I do have access to other forms of support, that make all the difference to me in the context of my life. These take human and canine form. They are, of course, my friends, including Lydia.
With her, I am out every day, walking, enjoying fresh air and steady exercise. I have, with her, companionship and company. Good company.
My friends are amazing – they are rallying for me at a time when I am struggling emotionally.
I am still struggling with anger; have just come back from a Buddhist prayer session; have just spoken to a friend on the phone; am writing this. It all helps; having positive outlets for energy and emotions helps. I didn’t have this when I was younger, but I do now.
“I choose to be peaceful and calm. Everything is unfolding as it should.”
I first heard about affirmations over 30 years ago, when I came across the Louise Hay book, ‘You Can Heal Your Life’. (Hay House, 1984)
Affirmations have helped me in my healing process, although I’ve had to do a lot of other things as well.
The affirmation that I connected with at that time was: “I am the love and beauty of life in all its manifestations.”
I didn’t feel like I was the love and beauty of life in any of its manifestations, but I kept saying it to myself, over and over again.
I’d had some persistent warts on my thumb for years and found no lotions or potions that did anything to get rid of them. They disappeared though, shortly after I started using this affirmation.
Coincidence? Maybe, but I don’t think so. The power of positive thinking is not to be underestimated, in my view. And my view does tend to be aligned with a lot of other views, including those embedded in Buddhist teachings.
During the Covid crisis, my affirmation of choice was, “I choose to be peaceful and calm; everything is unfolding as it should”. Some people laughed at me when I told them about this at the time, but it did help me to stay calm during Covid, even if I did go through some very ‘not so calm’ periods later.
Today, I am saying the Louise Hay affirmation, and also another that I came across online:
“My knee is healing and getting stronger, each passing day.”
I don’t have too much of a problem with my knees, at the moment, but they are a weak point for me, so I do exercises that a physio taught me, take a one-a-day vitamin and mineral supplement for joints, apply some ‘wear & tear’ lubricating fluid that I bought from the chemist, and say the affirmation.
I need my knees to be functioning and flexible so that I can keep walking and working with Lydia.
We go on our woodland walk this morning.
On the narrow path across the field, between growing crops, Lydia’s nose nudges the backs of my knees, but the lead is looser than it was the last time we did this walk. She seems much more relaxed, and this continues as we emerge from the field and start along the grassy path beside the wood. I do a few ‘about turns’ as I need to but she pulls very little. We make our way through the wood, which has a warm dampness about it from yesterday’s rain, heating up now with today’s sun.
At one point during our walk, Lydia looks up at me, mouth open as if she is smiling, and I think that she is telling me that she isn’t as afraid as she used to be. She is still alert to sights, sounds, smells, but she isn’t pulling away from me. I feel like we are more ‘together’ on this walk, today. Every so often I reinforce the “heel” command, using some dried food from her daily allowance, mixed with some treats to give extra value to her reward for being a “good girl”. I haven’t brought cooked chicken with me this morning; I’ll use that tonight when we have our evening training time.
Home and, after giving Lydia the rest of her breakfast allowance in her favourite food ball – which she pushes around with her nose to get access to the dried food pellets that I put inside – I get my own breakfast. It’s a late one and I have a busy afternoon planned.
For much of last year I had what I referred to as ‘Wellbeing Wednesdays’ because I used to take Lydia for a walk first thing, then go to a yoga class, then go for a psychotherapy session at 1pm, then, after taking Lydia out for another walk in the afternoon, go to a Buddhist teaching and meditation session in the evening.
Now I have ‘Mental Health Mondays’, with yoga and Qigong in the afternoon.
Qigong isn’t as well known as yoga, and I find both beneficial for both my physical and mental health. I wrote a blog post about Qigong a while back:
It’s good to be on the receiving end of congratulations, and to feel good about the publication of my book. I used to think that I could never feel good about anything to do with myself again. Now I can, and I do.
When I first started writing this blog I had just retired and it was something that I wanted to do.
I thought it would help me to complete a cycle of mental health recovery that I’d started many years previously, and that in writing about my experiences it might help others too.
I had no idea then just how far away I was from the summit of my recovery mountain, or just how many sheer cliff faces I was going to have to climb to be able to finally enjoy the view.
That was over five years ago.
I found no easy answers but knew that I had to keep going, and I did.
At 69 I have no wish or need now to climb any more mountains, either in my head or with my feet. However, my journey does continue, day by day, step by step, and I will continue to write about it and share it with anyone who is interested.
My new e-book, publishing on Amazon for Kindle 5th June, gives insights into how Lydia, Me & our Family of Three have recently made our final ascent:
‘Train your dog; train your mind – positive reinforcement for humans and canines’
I make the distinction between a minor breakdown and a major breakdown on the basis of the level of functionality that I lost, and the time it has taken to return to a semblance of normal functionality (whatever that means).
When I had a major breakdown over thirty years ago, it took years to recover to the point where I could do paid work again (although I did a lot of voluntary work as part of the recovery process).
In the years leading to my major breakdown, which was effectively from my teens until my late thirties, I developed unhealthy coping strategies.
With no idea how to deal with things differently, I worked out ways of getting through that worked – to a degree – but they weren’t sustainable, and I came crashing down.
“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.” – Rumi
The main thing was – in the trauma of the breakdown experience – I didn’t give up; the survivor in me kicked in. Reaching out for and finding sources of support helped me to rebuild. I started to retrain my brain through meditation and affirmations, did hard physical work and exercise when I could, pushed myself when I felt I needed to; tried to rest and relax into feelings that had previously been buried and then surfaced like a volcano. They were so difficult to deal with.
What do I do with all these feelings? Do I chew them up and spit them out and start again? And if I do what then?
I’m now retired, so in a sense the pressure is off, in that I don’t have to recover enough to fulfil the demands of a job. However, in retirement it is all the more important – and can be difficult – to find reasons to be motivated; to get up in the morning; to have a sense of purpose.
After my recent breakdown, and with support from my partner, good friends, and effective medication, I was able to start drawing on these healthier coping strategies fairly quickly, because I had already built them in to my life over many years; they had become part of my ‘muscle memory’, in brain and in body.
The Chinese exercise for health and well-being – Qigong – works on the whole person; walking our dog takes me into fresh air and the opportunity to appreciate the morning or evening light; making things with clay helps to take my mind away from unwelcome thoughts; Buddhist mind training helps me to just accept these thoughts as thoughts; meditation and affirmations provide the opportunity to let go of negative and introduce positive, even if it’s just for a few moments.
I haven’t yet achieved that all elusive peace of mind – my mind is still a work in progress – but I can at times feel a sense of peacefulness in the moment, and that is very welcome.
At the turn of the Millennium, I completed a project under the Mind-Millennium Award Scheme.
My project – the Lifelines Project – involved collecting and publishing poems, pictures and self-help strategies from other people who, like me, had suffered from enduring and debilitating depression.
I had not met many of the contributors, and was amazed – honoured – that they trusted me with their personal expressions, all because of the underlying intention of reaching out in the hope of helping others.
If you, yourself, are suffering with depression, I would like to wish you well and tell you that you are not alone.”
Since then, there’s been increased awareness about mental health and how it can be improved. While there remains much to be done in society from the ‘prevent’ and ‘promote’ perspectives, being able to – and even encouraged – to talk about mental health difficulties more openly represents a start.
In my own experience, I eventually got fed up of talking – I’ve never been much good at it anyway. I knew that I needed to take action, to find ways of turning my life around, however difficult or painful that might be. And I knew it would be difficult and painful, to rebuild from a below zero level when I was in my forties.
From somewhere, somehow, I found the resolve to put my head down, prioritise, and push myself through. For a long time I concentrated on work and on developing my internal resilience. Just before I turned 60 I decided to take the plunge and commit to a relationship. I now have a much fuller and richer life than I have ever had before and I’m thankful for that.
Even so, life continues to be difficult and I still take antidepressants – probably always will. But I have other coping skills and strategies, and have also been able to recently retire, taking away work pressures that I could no longer deal with.
I wasn’t able to keep in touch with all the people who contributed to the Lifelines Project but they’ve always remained in my thoughts and I hope that they too have been able to find a way through; a way that works for each of them:
Sylvia
Marcia
Maggie 2
Peter
Virginia
Henzie
Maggie 3
Jonathan
Fiona
Sean
Christopher
Polly
Christine
Caz
John
Caroline
Frances
Susan
Patricia
Mary
Dave
Mark
Tony
Iain
I thought it was fitting to include a poem by one of the Project contributors – Mark:
Recovery
The night has been terror: depression, cold, confusion. – Ears scream.
Grey – the morning in my front-room.
A tear on my cheek and a child’s grizzle for a few seconds – From my adult form.
The predicted weather was cold, with possible snow and hail. Even so, we set off, determined to make the most of the chance to meet up outside and walk with others, following the ‘Rule of Six’.
Although it did turn out to be cold, there was no sign of snow or hail. We walked through glorious countryside in bright sunshine and completed an 8-mile circuit. Not bad considering the effects of ‘lockdown winter’ with gyms closed and the impetus to exercise at home starting to dwindle. We needed those hills, that fresh air, that blast to the senses.
With 38 years between the youngest of the group, at 27, and me, at 65, our walking speeds were variable. Our younger friends waited patiently at regular intervals for us to catch up – me and my partner plodding along at a steady 2 miles an hour. We’re not going to break any records but we’re not aiming to. What we do want to do, however, is maintain reasonable levels of fitness as we progress through our sixties and beyond.
We’ve both struggled with long-term depression but also both never given up on pushing ourselves – and now, sometimes, each other – to keep making that effort – massive though it is – to maintain an exercise regime, in one form or another.
For me it’s tended to be a bit ad hoc – I find routine difficult – although for years I did cycle to work regularly. It wasn’t a long distance but there was quite a lot of uphill on the way back. I often cursed at the end of the day when I wished – how I wished – that I’d driven there in the car. But I’m sure it’s helped me a lot and I’m glad of it now. Glad to have kept going, pushing those pedals.
Every so often I used to try jogging. I found it hard to psyche myself up, sometimes got into a bit of a ‘stride’, and even completed a 10K run once. Jogging wasn’t for me though, long term. My knees complained and I had to call it a day on that one.
There were times in my life when I simply set off from home and walked until my heels bled. Not recommended but at least it got me out and active.
In later years I did volunteering involving hard labour with a sledge hammer (and called it a holiday!). For that, I set myself training targets, carrying a back-pack loaded up to 50lb in weight with books, tins of beans and bags of flour. A good friend used to come with me on some of these training walks, to make sure that I didn’t fall backwards off the hillside – with that load I would never have stopped until I landed at the bottom!
Now, I enjoy our leisure walks – sometimes with friends, sometimes just the two of us. We’re planning to do Helvellyn later this year. Must get into training again soon.
The health benefits of exercise are well recognised.
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.
Exercise also keeps the brain and your other vital organs healthy.
“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.
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.
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….
It’s all about the next step, and the one after that …
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.
Glad About 
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