Mindful walking

Yesterday I woke up feeling tired and irritable. It’s nothing new: I’m not sleeping well and often feel that way first thing. The last few weeks I’ve also felt very down and although I’ve been practicing mindfulness for some time now, I don’t often remember to actually do it. Or by the time I really need it, I’m not in much of a mood to do anything! So I decided yesterday to walk mindfully to the train station. I live about a mile from the station and have about a twenty minute walk each morning. Normally, I listen to the Radio or Spotify or a podcast. Yesterday, I did none of those things.

My mindfulness teacher often talks about mindful walking, but I’ve never really done it before. I’m always in a rush to get somewhere, or when I do go out just for the joy of walking, I’m usually with my husband. So yesterday morning I set off on a quest – to pay attention on purpose to everything. I waited until I crossed the main road at the end of my street (because no one wants to get mindfully run over) and then put on my mindfulness hat.

I noticed the air against my face. It was a crisp morning and every so often I felt a small gust of cold wind against my skin. For just a second, and then it was gone. I noticed the way my feet felt against the ground and the ‘clip clop’ of my shoes as they touched down on the pavement. I noticed the way my body moved, and felt gratitude towards my legs for supporting me. I noticed my thoughts come and go. I noticed the way that I felt and accepted those feelings.

After a while, my mind was no longer full of the ‘what if’s and ‘why not’s. Instead it was focused on the scenery around me. I’d never known the name of the streets I wandered down every day – now I paid attention to the street signs. What I once thought was an just an ugly grey terrace, in fact, housed a beautiful red leafed tree. In fact, two trees (there once had been three, but now only two and a stump.) Birds rustled in the bushes; a cat crossed my path (let’s be honest, I’d have noticed the cat on any given day, but this time I didn’t pounce on it and try and make friends, I just appreciated its beautiful soft fur and walked on by.)

By the time I arrived at the station, twenty minutes later, I felt happy. I felt free. Free of the worries that had haunted me for weeks. Free of the anxiety that had caused my chest tightness only an hour before. I hadn’t missed the radio. I certainly hadn’t missed the thoughts. And for the rest of the morning, I felt relaxed. It didn’t last of course. Mindfulness is not a miracle cure. It can’t bring you good health or wealth. But it can bring you contentment, even if only for a little while. 

Why I’m quitting Slimming World

I’m generally not a quitter. I persevered with my tax exams (despite failing one twice) even though I hated every minute of studying. I spent 2 days teaching my cat to do a high five. It took a lot of treats and patience but we got there in the end! But I know when something is just not worth pursuing and this week, I finally decided to give up on Slimming World. Here’s why…

One - Weighing in every week was depressing me.

It started off okay. I was losing consistently every week until week 15, when I gained half a pound. Now I know half a pound is nothing, and by that point I had lost well over a stone, but it bloody hurt seeing that gain on the scales. Since then, my weight has yo-yoed a lot and although the overall trend is down, the constant ups and down made me feel like I had failed.

I started experimenting by weighing myself mid-week and then eventually, weighing myself every single day. What I found is that my weight fluctuates a hell of a lot from day to day. On any given week, I had probably lost at least a pound of fat, but on that particular day when I was weighing in, the scales might not have been reflecting that. I could have had a salty meal the night before so was holding on to water, it could be because of hormonal fluctuations, it could simply be because I hadn’t been to the loo (sorry for TMI!) The point is, weighing yourself on a particular day is a bit like rolling a dice. Sometimes it will be accurate and sometimes it won’t. On the weeks that it is, you feel great. But on the weeks where you know that you stuck to plan and didn’t lose, it’s just demoralising. And for an anxious person like me, it was just playing on my mind far too much.

Two – There are aspects of this diet that just don’t sit right with me.

While there are things about slimming world I love, there are aspects of the plan that just seem, frankly, bizarre. Let’s take avocados. I bloody love avocados and guacamole, but I haven’t eaten any in over six months! Why? Well because an avocado has 14 syns. You are only supposed to have between 5-15 syns a day, so fitting an avocado in to the diet, while not impossible, is pretty difficult. The thing is, avocados have so much goodness in them. They’re incredibly nutritious and they’re loaded with heart healthy fats, fibre and potassium. But on Slimming World, none of that matters. Syns say no.

Another strange example is Mugshots. Now, I won’t lie, I am partial to a cheeky sweet and sour Mugshot. These things have over 200 calories. But as they’re ‘free’ on the plan, I can have technically have as many as I like. Two Mugshots, calorie wise, is roughly equivalent to an avocado. But on Slimming World, that doesn’t matter! Call me cynical, but I suspect that has a lot to do with brand affiliation. (Muller Lights crop up so many times in their recipes that you’d think they’re a super food.) Which leads me to my next point…

Three – Slimming World teaches you feck all about nutrition

Now Slimming World has taught me a lot of things and has encouraged a lot of good habits. For example, filling your plate with 1/3^rd speed food has encouraged me to revamp my portion sizes. I’m eating a lot more fruit and veg, and a lot less carbs and sugar. That can only be a good thing. But what it’s not taught me, is anything about what my body needs to be healthy.

On Slimming World, calories are a dirty word. But let’s face it – try as many diets as you like, it all comes back to calories. Less calories in than out = calorie deficit = weight loss. And actually, that’s what the Slimming World diet is based upon, even though no one at head office is going to admit it. For a lot of people starting out on Slimming World, they will naturally consume less calories than they were eating before. Probably a lot less calories. And that’s because their diets (and I’m including myself in this generalisation!) were shit. Going from a high fat, high sugar diet to a fairly low sugar, virtually fat free diet means that you will obviously be consuming a lot less calories than before. But wait a minute…as you lose more weight, the amount of calories your body needs to survive will decrease. But you’re following the same plan so consuming roughly the same amount of calories. So that will result in your calorie deficit becoming a lot smaller (resulting in smaller losses,) or you becoming calorie neutral (therefore maintaining your weight.) Maybe some weeks when you’ve eaten a shitload of Muller Lights, you might even gain! You cannot get away from the fact that a calorie deficit diet is the only way to lose fat.

[Four – bonus reason – Frylight ruined my pans!]

So what am I doing now?

You’ve probably guessed it. I’m counting calories. I’ve bought a Fitbit, I’m recording everything I eat on Myfitnesspal, and I’m making sure I eat less calories than I burn off. Okay, it’s a bit more hassle and yes, I have to weigh out food and spend a few minutes a day logging everything I eat, but it’s making me learn about nutrition and I feel so much more in control than I ever did on Slimming World.

I’m not saying Slimming World’s a terrible diet. It’s helped me lose around 2 stone, and for a lot of people, it’s a great starter diet. I cook differently now and will continue to use some of their recipes. I discovered overnight oats, which I love, and I’ll never buy a jar of pasta or curry sauce ever again. But to get over this plateau, I need to do more. So the weight loss journey will continue - I’m not quitting, but you won’t see many more #sw posts from me. #thanksswandgoodbye.

Battling my obsessions

I think it’s fair to say most people who suffer from anxiety have obsessive thoughts from time to time. When I was really ill, my obsessive thoughts would centre on bad things happening. I couldn’t shake the horrible feeling of foreboding and so I would feed these feelings by thinking of all the bad things that might happen and convincing myself that these thoughts and fears were real. I’m sure that sort of experience is pretty standard.

However, something else I am bad for, and I’m not sure how common this is, is having fleeting obsessions generally. This can be anything from a specific person (hello, Jamie Dornan!) to a place or even a time in history.

To give you an example, I once spent pretty much a whole weekend researching Alton Towers. I was on the website, I was reading threads on forums about upcoming attractions and watching you tube videos. I had no plans to visit Alton Towers. In fact, the one time I did go there, and my friends can attest to this, I didn’t really like it (because I’m a wimp and don’t like rollercoasters that much.) So why did I waste all that time reading about it? I don’t have an answer. But for those few days, it became an obsession of mine that I couldn’t shift.

A lot of these obsessions are harmless (apart from totally wasting my time,) but some of them can be quite damaging. A few months ago, I became obsessed with cleaning. I have always liked keeping the house clean, and it had become a Saturday morning ritual of ours. But before long, the Saturday morning had turned in to Saturday morning and afternoon and I was literally on my hands and knees picking up individual specks of dust. My husband (who is awesome and does his fair share around the house himself) recognised that this had gone beyond just wanting the house to be clean. The pleasure I got from seeing the house immaculate had turned into anxiety because I could never get it quite clean enough. I was upset and in tears at times because I was scared the house was dirty and I worried so much about people coming over and thinking we were unclean. So we hired a cleaner. It was a huge step for me but it has stopped me obsessing as much and I know it was something we had to do to help my mental health.

I’m now learning to understand the boundaries of what is okay and what is obsessive behaviour. I might still lie in bed at 1am reading about rabbits, but I’ll know when to pull the plug. Looking at cute pictures – okay. Looking at the pets at home website, listing everything I would buy for a pet rabbit – not okay. (And yes, I have done this!)

I’d be interested to know if anyone else has these mini obsessions, or whether I am just a very strange creature! Thanks for reading x

Trigger Happy

Last night after a productive but eventful day, I started to feel that familiar sense of foreboding. I knew the anxiety was coming, and for once, I knew why. Coffee. I had made the mistake of spending an hour in Costa. As I sipped on my skinny caramel latte, I knew there would probably be payback, but it was so tasty and felt like such a treat, so I kept drinking.

Identifying anxiety triggers is something that I’ve only recently began to contend with. In the past, I’ve always believed that my anxiety came from nowhere, it usually hit me from out of the blue and I could never really pinpoint why. A few weeks ago, my therapist suggested I start keeping a mood diary. It was such a simple idea and yet I’d never thought of it before.

Every day for 2 weeks, I jotted down every time I felt anxious, how strong the feelings were, what I was doing at the time, and any thoughts I could remembering having. Initially, I wasn’t convinced that it was helpful, but as time went on, I did begin to see patterns emerging.

Coffee was a straightforward enough trigger to deal with. I had never been a huge coffee drinker – it had always given me the shakes – and so it was fairly easy to limit this. But some triggers, such as vivid dreams, were much harder to eliminate.

It took me a while to realise that criticism, or more commonly, fear of criticism, brought on my anxiety and yet, it had been staring me straight in the face for so long. I have always been an over thinker and a catasrophiser, but I’d never been able to joint up the dots. I would go over and over conversations in my head, wondering if I could have said something differently. I would shy away from social situations, afraid of behaving inappropriately or saying the wrong thing. I would write the same WhatsApp message over and over and then end up not sending anything because it was just easier to not risk sounding silly or upsetting someone. I had (and still have) horrifically low self-esteem.

It’s not the easiest thing to admit to yourself and I’m sure to some it sounds incredibly self-absorbed. For years, I’ve been scared of truly being myself and that’s probably resulted in me coming across as quite standoffish at times. What I thought was shielding me from pain and rejection was actually hindering my friendships.  But it is something that I can address, and I’m working really hard to change my ways of thinking (that’s probably a blog for another day though.)

If you’re struggling to figure out what makes you anxious, I would strongly recommending keeping a record of your mood. And maybe stay away from those caramel lattes too! 

Going back to work

So after a rocky few weeks (probably longer if I’m honest,) I finally went back to work last Monday after five weeks off sick. This is the second time I have returned to work after a prolonged period of absence. Last year I was off for seven weeks, with a six week phased return. One of the things that’s been really difficult for me this time, was knowing when it was the right time to go back.

Last year, when I returned to work, I was so ready for it. I just knew it was the right time. I felt so much better within myself and I felt ready to share my story with others. I emailed my colleagues to tell them why I had been off. It was the first time that most of them had realised that I struggled with my mental health. I wanted to be open and honest with them, and I felt confident enough to organise a session for mental health awareness week, where I shared me story and how mindfulness had helped me. I was very frank and didn’t hide any of the gory details.

This time felt different. Being off for a second time had completely shattered my confidence. I tried to get up and go to work one day (I think it was after three weeks off) and I just fell apart. I was shaking, my heart was racing and I had awful chest pain. I wasn’t ready. I was so scared of failing. The anxiety, and the medication to an extent, was making it so difficult to concentrate and I was terrified of making a mistake. Of course I was still catastrophising at this point, so the ‘what if I make a mistake?’ turned in to ‘what if I get demoted, what if get sacked, what if we lose our house, what if Neil leaves me,’ blah blah, you get the picture. I was an anxious mess.

A few weeks ago, I felt the tide turning. I would still wake up anxious every morning, but it would last for less and less time. I decided to make myself a week long timetable to get myself back in to a routine. So I gave myself things to do every day. I went out for walks, I read my mindfulness book, I did some housework, I organised plans for our holiday. Basically I stopped letting myself be good for nothing. And it helped.

Last Monday, I wasn’t 100% sure I was ready to go back but I decided to just give it a go. But this time, I approached it completely differently. I didn’t do the phased return thing. And I didn’t really spend much time talking to people about why I’d been off. I just wanted to get back to some sense of normality. Work is a big part of who I am and I just wanted to be me again. So I walked in to the office last week and I just got on with it. And nothing terrible happened.  

There are days when it all feels a bit much. Days when I wake up and I honestly don’t know if I’ll manage. Days when I’m so tired by the end of the day that I can barely find the energy to wash my face. Days when I do make mistakes! But what I’ve come to realise is that it’s okay to have days like that. In an ideal world, I would be perfect. Everyone would, wouldn’t they? But I’m far from perfect. I am perfectly flawed. And every day I’m getting a little bit closer to accepting that. 

Live blogging my anxiety (part 5)

Friday 12^th May

I feel like I might have turned a corner. Or maybe this is just a random good day thrown in to the mix for good measure. Either way, I’ll take it!

Last night, I didn’t sleep at all. I had taken sleeping pills on each of the three nights before, so wanted to try a night without them on the advice of my doctor. It didn’t work. I was still lying in bed at 4am, so I gave up, lay on the couch and I’ve been up since then. Normally, this would leave me exhausted, but weirdly, I have more energy today than I’ve had all week. I’m still tired, and still finding things a struggle, but today has definitely been a better day than yesterday, when I was feeling really hopeless.

 

I thought after two weeks on this medication, I’d be feeling fine and that the side effects would have worn off. But it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen, which realistically means more time off work. This makes me really sad, because I love my job and my work colleagues, and I just want to get back to normality. But I know I couldn’t possibly focus on work at the moment feeling like this, so I just need to concentrate on getting myself well again.

I’ve found a psychotherapist that I think might be able to help me. I have tried counselling before (three different counsellors in fact) and while they were happy to teach me coping mechanisms that I do use, none of them seemed willing or enthusiastic about helping me get to the root of my issues. I fear if I don’t figure out what’s causing my anxiety, it will never leave me. So I’m trying therapy again, which I’ve always felt a bit weird and sceptical about, but at this point, I really am willing to give anything a go.

This is the last ‘live’ blog I’m going to write. My latest episode of crippling anxiety coincided with Mental Health Awareness week and I hoped that by writing about this, I might have helped someone else feel a little bit more normal. While the feelings I’m experiencing are anything but normal, I know we need to normalise this condition, so people aren’t afraid to speak up.

A lot of people have told me I’m brave for writing this blog. I’m not brave. I’m just one of the 1 in 4 people who experience a mental health problem in any given year*. Someone you know is probably suffering right now. If I broke a bone, no one would call me brave. And yet because it’s my mind that’s broken, I’m brave for talking about it. That’s just madness. Anyone should be able to speak about their mental health at any time without stigma or prejudice. Sadly, as a society, I don’t think we’re quite there yet, but I hope that we’re well on the way.

And as for me, well, I’m not okay. But I will be.

*https://www.time-to-change.org.uk/mental-health-statistics-facts

Live blogging my anxiety (part 4)

Thursday 11^th May

Just when I thought I was getting better, things have gotten a whole lot worse. I woke up this morning with my heart absolutely racing. Despite sleeping well for the last few nights, I am exhausted. I barely have the energy to get up and down the stairs. I tried to sit outside in the garden today and read a magazine but lasted about 15mins. I can’t focus on anything. I think the depression has set in now. I feel so numb.

I am frustrated because I desperately want to get better but I don’t know how and I can’t seem to find anyone that can help me. The medication is making me feel so shit that I don’t know whether it’s worth it. I barely recognise myself. I think about the person I used to be and it makes me so sad. This condition is affecting every part of my life – my work, my marriage, my friendships, my health. I don’t know what to do.

Sorry, short entry today. Feeling too tired and hopeless for this.

Ps I didn’t make the dentist. 

Live blogging my anxiety (part 3)

Wednesday 10^th May

Today was a better day. I had another good sleep last night so the exhaustion has lifted, although I am still feeling ridiculously lethargic all the time, and everything seems like such an effort.

My cleaner came today and I just couldn’t face making small talk with them so I went out for a coffee. I also knew I’d have to explain why I was off work. It seems silly when I’m putting it out there to the world in a blog, but I didn’t want to admit what was wrong with me. Last week, I said I had a cold. I am still very much ashamed of being plagued with this condition. Being off ill for a physical reason seems so much more socially acceptable. There is still too much stigma surrounding mental illness, and you never know how people will react, which is partly why I’m writing this blog.

So I managed along to Costa and I enjoyed being out of the house. I did start to feel really anxious again after about half an hour. I started to get that horrible skin crawling feeling when I can almost feel the adrenaline pulsing through my veins. I knew exercise would help, so I went outside, and just kept walking. I walked for a few miles and it helped me immensely and really lifted my mood all afternoon. I know exercise is the key, but finding the motivation and energy to actually get exercising is difficult.

I have a dentist appointment tomorrow where I will possibly need a filling, and I haven’t decided if I’m going to go yet. Anyone who knows we will know that I used to have a serious dentist phobia, and although I’ve largely conquered it, I’m not sure that kind of pressure is what I need at the moment. I’m going to see how I feel in the morning.

I’m just taking each day at a time, as I never know from one day to the next how I’m going to feel. I think the meds must be kicking in now. I’ve had a few hours of normality today. I’ve laughed, I’ve cried, my mind feels a little clearer. But overshadowing it all is this black cloud that threatens to rain on me at any given moment, and that frightens me so much.

Live blogging my anxiety (part 2)

Tuesday 9^th May

I slept for 8 hours last night, uninterrupted. Halleluiah! (And thank goodness for sleeping pills.) So I’m a little bit disappointed at how shit I feel today. I thought sleep was the answer, but I was probably naive to think it was a miracle cure.

I feel agitated today. So agitated. I’m fidgeting constantly. My legs are sore from the constant bobbing up and down. My whole body feels tense and aching. I have a headache that I’m terrified might turn into a migraine.

I’m irritable. Everything is annoying me and I can tell I’m not a fun person to be around at the moment, so it’s just easier to be alone with my thoughts. I’m finding making the smallest of decisions almost impossible. It took me almost an hour this afternoon to choose something to watch on Netflix. Basic choices feel like mammoth life decisions.

I did manage to go to my mindfulness class tonight. I enjoyed listening to the talk. It’s always reassuring to know there might be someone else in the room that feels even crappier than me (not that I would wish these feelings on anyone.) But I couldn’t concentrate on the meditation at all. I felt too groggy to be mindful. It’s pretty hard to acknowledge your thoughts when they don’t make any sense.

Maybe tomorrow will make more sense. Until then…

Live blogging my anxiety (part 1)

Monday 8^th May

I had to phone in sick to work today. My boss asked me if it was something at work that was bothering me. Other people have asked me similar questions. Most people don’t understand that nothing is bothering me, and yet somehow, everything is. I have generalised anxiety disorder, and feel irritated and agitated not by specific things in my life, but just by life itself.

I haven’t slept properly for a week. I started a new medication last Tuesday. That night, I literally didn’t sleep a wink. And each night since hasn’t been much better. Last night I managed four hours, which was a good night. Insomnia is crippling me but I know it’s caused by the medication for my anxiety, and that anxiety crippled me more. The medication helped me before and I know if I can just get some sleep, it will help me again. So it’s a straight choice between extreme fatigue or major anxiety.

I go back to the doctor. She gives me sleeping pills and sedatives. I’m signed off work for a week. Deemed ‘unfit’ to do my job. I feel a bit like a useless junkie, and also feel sad that it’s come to this again.

I go out for a walk at lunchtime with Neil to cash my prescription and buy some birthday cards. It’s sunny today and being out of the house sometimes lifts my mood. While we’re out, we grab some lunch, and I almost feel normal for a while. And then I feel guilty for feeling normal. What if someone from work sees me and thinks I’m making it up? What if they don’t believe me or think I’m not ill enough to be off? The anxious feelings return and I start to feel the horrible feeling of disassociation from my body. My surroundings don’t feel real. I am in a dreamlike bubble.

My afternoon is better than my morning. Mornings and evenings are the worst, but the bit in the middle is usually manageable. I do some hoovering and tidy up. I suddenly notice how shit the house looks. I’d never let it get this bad when I’m well, but when I’m ill, I don’t have the energy to function, let alone hoover. I’ve never felt exhaustion like this before. My brain and body are struggling to cope.

My neighbour appears at the door with flowers, prosecco and a card. A random act of kindness, and I am an emotional wreck, but incredibly grateful. I vow to pay it forward when I feel well enough to do something nice for someone else. It’s really lifted my mood and I’m hopeful that if I can just get a bit more sleep tonight, tomorrow will be a brighter day.

More tomorrow… 

Reasons to be cheerful

If you’ve read any of my previous blogs, you will know by now that the last year or so has not been the easiest time of my life. Plagued with crippling anxiety, I became very ill last year and still battle daily with my mental health issues. But it’s been over a year since I first became ill and now that the fog has cleared, despite still having the odd bad day (or three), I now have enough self-awareness to see the good in my life, most of the time.

What I do have now that I didn’t have a year ago is a little more perspective. Anxiety took that away from me. It took me to a dark place where all my thoughts were negative ones.  But lately (and I think largely due to practicing mindfulness,) I’ve come to realise that there is so much good in the world: good that we choose not to see because we are so distracted by the negatives in our own lives and in the world around us.

I accept that there are things in life I do not have that I desperately want. And I’ll admit that sometimes seeing other people with those things causes me a lot of pain and has, at times, brought about strong feelings of resentment and bitterness. But when I look at my life objectively, I can see that I really am very fortunate.

I have a loving and supportive husband and a harmonious marriage. I have a beautiful home, filled with nice things and a very cute (albeit, I suspect, evil) cat. I have a job that I love. I have a support network of people that care about me and would be there in an instant if I needed them. Some of these things I have worked hard for. Others, well, I have just been lucky. The bottom line is, many people don’t have any of these things, so I know I should be thankful.

At bedtime, my husband and I will try and come up with a list of good things that have happened that day (we usually aim for three.) Sometimes these are little triumphs – we had pizza, we completed a work project, we successfully guessed the killer in Broadchurch etc. etc.) Sometimes these are more profound. But these reasons to be cheerful, however small, help me to stay well. Because this gratitude forces me to focus on the good things in life and balances out all those negative anxious thoughts.

If you’re having a tough time, I would encourage you to look at your life from the perspective of a stranger. Mentally list all the good points – your reasons to be cheerful.  You’ll probably find that they are things you take for granted every day. Take a moment to be thankful and I hope you’ll find that there is room for gratitude amidst the fog of negativity.

“Some people grumble that roses have thorns: I am grateful that thorns have roses.” 

For there is always hope

I always do my best to keep my blogs really positive. So many people have contacted me over the past year to tell me how much my encouragement helps them and I don’t want to let those people down. I also never want to come across as if I’m complaining or ranting. I appreciate that I have a very nice life, and for that, I am more than grateful.

On the other hand, I never want to lie or sugar coat the severity of my mental health issues. And sometimes, it’s very hard to see a bright future. To see a day where anxiety doesn’t consume every bone in my body. Because, honestly, sometimes life just gets a bit shitty and there's nothing you can do about it.

I don’t want to go in to the reasons why I’m particularly anxious at the moment. That’s not what this blog is about. This blog is just to say that sometimes, you can do all the mindfulness in the world and still feel irritated. You can chant positive affirmations again and again and still feel helpless. You can distract yourself until you’re blue in the face and still feel unable to concentrate on anything.

And I could say, well, it’s okay to feel that way. You’ll be fine. After all, you’re trying to fight against a natural human response that ultimately serves a purpose. But is it really okay? Can you really live when every day you’re fighting a battle, and the war zone exists in your own mind? No. No, you can’t. You just merely exist. And every day, you can hope for peace; for armistice. And maybe, just maybe, while there’s still hope in your heart, there’s something left that’s worth fighting for. 

A letter to my 18 year old self

Dear 18 year old Laura,

You have just finished school and are ready to set off to university. It is all you’ve ever wanted and you can’t wait to make your mark on the world. You’ve decided you want to be a lawyer, and the summer work experience placement where you looked after the partner’s baby for 3 weeks hasn’t put you off!

You’ve just split up with your high school boyfriend after 3 years. You’re ‘heartbroken’ for about a week and then you realise that you’re probably better off. I am sorry to say that you have not known real heartbreak yet – this will come a few years later. But we’ll get to that in a bit…

You probably want me to tell you that you’ll ace uni, get a first class degree and end up working for a prestigious law firm where you’ll make a real difference. Sorry, it doesn’t quite pan out that way. You’ll struggle. School and exams came naturally to you but at uni, everyone is clever, and you’ll never really feel like you’re good enough. You’ll get mediocre grades and will struggle through, and leave feeling a little bit lost.

When you’re 19, you’ll move to Glasgow and have a couple of amazing years living with friends in the West End. You’ll drink far too many cosmopolitans, date inappropriate men, and watch a lot of Grand Designs. [A bit of advice – I know your tax class is at 9am but you might want to go to that. It’s going to come in handy…]

When you’re 20 you will meet someone special – ‘the one who got away’ as it were. But you’ll be too messed up emotionally to make a go of it and you’ll treat him terribly and never really recover from the guilt. And only then will you face real heartbreak, for the love that never quite ran its course.

You will spiral in to a depression which almost results in you failing your third year at uni. You’ll sit in an exam hall and write nonsense because you don’t know the first thing about Roman Law. Gran will drag you to the GP, where you won’t admit that you’ve been formulating plans to slit your wrists and end it all, and you’ll take the meds and wear your fake smile and you’ll just about manage to pass the course and be allowed to go back for honours year.

I’d love to tell you that it gets easier, that those pills will make everything better. But the truth is you will struggle with your mental health for many years to come. It will take almost 10 years for you to get a real grip on it. You will suffer many panic attacks where you convince yourself that you are dying. You will show up at A&E more than once, only to be told that you’re not actually having a heart attack. You’ll feel like you’re going mad. But you’ll function enough to not let it show most of the time. Years later, a friend will say ‘But you were always so smiley, I had no idea.’ You will absolutely perfect the art of ‘faking it til you make it.’

But you will graduate. Unfortunately, it’s at a time where there are no jobs. So that traineeship that you’re after isn’t going to happen for you. But it all works out in the end and believe me, one day you will look back and thank your lucky stars that you didn’t become a solicitor.

When you’re 21 you will fall in love with the man you will eventually marry. Yes, I know it’s hard to believe that you will settle down one day – you thought you’d live like Carrie Bradshaw forever – but you’ll find your way to suburbia like the best of them. You’re going to move to Uddingston. You don’t even know where that is right now!

The man you’ll marry is a good egg. He will sweep you off your feet. He will save you. You will have a few tough years where your mental health issues get in the way. You won’t think you deserve the happiness that he offers, and you’ll subconsciously try and sabotage it with the crazy behaviour that you’ve always exhibited in relationships before. But he’ll stick around and one day it will click. You’ll realise, that actually, you want the good life. You want to be happy with this person forever. You can’t lose this…

…When you’re 26, you will stand on a beach pavilion in the Caribbean, the waves crashing behind you, and you’ll say the vows that you’ll agonise over for days the week before and you will mean every single word. From then on, the path to happiness comes easily for you. You will be the picture perfect cliché of marital bliss.

Eventually, after a rocky start to your career, you will find a job that you love and that you’re actually good it. And you know those tax lectures you didn’t go to? Well you’ll stand in front of a lecture hall full of students and deliver one of those lectures. You’ll spend many years studying. In fact, by the time you pass your final Chartered Tax Advisor exam, you’ll have been sitting exams for nearly half your life. But one day you’ll be done and you’ll go to the House of Lords, where you’ll be presented with a certificate that will hang proudly on your home office wall for many years to come.

In 2016, when you’re 28 years old, you will suffer a mental breakdown. You will work too hard and not look after yourself and you will fall apart for about three months. You will lock yourself in your bathroom and you will pull off your own skin in an attempt to get rid of the bugs that you believe are crawling over your skin. You will hit rock bottom.

But you will discover mindfulness, which isn’t even a thing yet, and you’ll slowly get better. You’ll develop the coping techniques that I know will get you through the rest of your living days and you’ll come out the other end better for it, finally, after all these years, self-aware enough to know that life is too important to suffer in silence.

I wish there was more advice I could offer you. I wish I could paint a happier picture of your 20s. I’m happy to say that your group of friends will still be your best friends 10 years later, and you’ll add some new friends to the mix too, which makes you luckier than most. But there’s other tough times ahead that I haven’t even mentioned. Illness will destroy your family. The world will become an increasingly scary place.

The truth is, you shouldn’t want to change anything. These experiences will shape you in to the confident 30 year old that you always knew you’d become eventually. So when times are tough, just have a little faith. You will somehow get through it all. Every one of your worst days will fade in to the background eventually. Keep fighting - you’ve got this.

Love from your (almost) 30 year old self.

xx

Our generation is fucked

I have deliberately not commented on the political climate as of late. You see, it’s particularly sad for me, because I used to work in politics. I was the one standing outside the train station in the pissing rain handing out leaflets that got thrown straight in to the recycling on a good day, and shoved straight back in your face on a bad day. I was the one that knocked on doors and got shouted at, spat at, and on one occasion, chased by a quite scary looking dog. I was the one that took calls when members of the public called our head office and called me a disgrace.

I put up with all of the above because I believed in something. I genuinely believed that there must be a better future for our generation. I don’t anymore. And I can’t think of any other way to put this, other than to say, we are fucked. We are fucked because we have no one to trust. Let’s look at the viable options here:

Vote Labour: Vote for a party that is so divided, it doesn’t even know what it represents anymore. Vote for a leader that his own party hate. Vote for a man that’s happy to take money from Iran (which let’s not forget, is a country that has zero respect for human rights.) Vote for a party which is essentially lost.

Vote Conservative: Vote for a Prime Minister that’s happy to cosy up to Trump. Vote for a former home secretary of 8 years who has done nothing to deal with our country’s immigration crisis. Vote for an environment secretary that backs fox hunting.

Vote UKIP: Vote for a man who hates everything the European parliament stand for, but is happy to take money from them (£84k a year by the way.) Vote for a party who want to legalise guns again. Vote for scrapping maternity pay.

[Vote Lib Dem: Do they still exist? I’ll say no more.]

Vote SNP: Vote for lies and self-delusion. Vote for complete incompetence – a government who have been in charge for, what, 9 years now and yet have completely failed the Scottish public. Vote for a first minister who’s own constituency resembles a ghetto, where residents living conditions are completely unacceptable (this is a place where rats, begging children, child sex workers and frequent rapes are the new normal.)

Or vote for nothing, and waive my democratic right.  I’ve often thought a ‘none of the above’ box on the ballot papers might be a good option. But then we’d all just vote for that and nothing would ever get done. For the first time in my life, I am considering not voting in the next election, because to vote for something, I need to believe. I need to trust. I need to want to stand out in the rain and hand out those flyers. And how can I trust any of the main parties right now? If I thought my vote might ignite any sort of positive change in society, then I would. But all I see is gloom for a long time to come. Our generation is fucked, and it makes me feel utterly dejected and depressed. 

Reflections on the year...

I’m always really nostalgic at this time of year. I’m not sure why. A New Year normally connotes a fresh start, but if you have an anxious mind, like me, you’ll know that you spent a large part of your life living in the past (more on this later.) So I started writing a sort of ‘round up’ of the year but decided against it for two reasons. One, my life hasn’t been interesting enough to justify this and two, let’s face it, 2016 was a pretty shifty year for everyone. So instead of documenting my year, I’m just going to write a little about my mental health journey over the past year. 

2016 should have been the best year of my life. I started the year having just moved in to my new house a few months before and was generally loving life. I work in personal tax so January is always pretty hectic and I’d changed my contract at work, meaning I’d worked 48 hour weeks since the previous May. Normally, I’d have some time off in February but last year I went straight in to a secondment which involved some travel to London. I was coping okay but then one Thursday night, I missed my flight home and I think it was all just a bit too much. That Sunday I completely crashed, resulting in an anxiety episode which lasted for months and an eight week absence from work, followed by a six week phased return. It was the shittiest time and there were so many low points during those few months where I worried I’d never recover.

But recover I did, as much as you can when you suffer from anxiety and panic attacks. As I’ve said in previous blogs, you never fully recover from a mental illness. It’s something you have to life with any manage forever. But I do feel like I’m going into 2017 feeling stronger, happier and armed with the tools to manage my mental health.

I’ve talked about mindfulness a lot in my blogs and I go to a mindfulness class run by an amazing man called Martin Stepek (look him up.) He often talks about compassion. He believes that in cultivating awareness, we can increase our empathy and compassion for others and ourselves and in turn, this will lead to a happier and more fulfilling life. This is one thing I consistently struggle with, especially at this time of year when I’m feeling reflective.

You see, there is a fine line between compassion and guilt. Those who don’t know much about anxiety may not know that some of the symptoms can make you a pretty difficult person to be around. In the past, I have suffered with major irritability, mood swings and some generally crazy behaviour, which other people have had to bear the brunt of. This is something that I feel incredibly guilty about and mindfulness seems to amplify these feelings of guilt (even more so at New Year) to a degree that I don’t necessarily want to feel.

This is something I want to work on in 2017 because no one wants to live in the past. The what ifs and the whys won’t change what has been and the guilt won’t make it better. So my goal for the year to come is to strengthen my skill of compassion to enable me to move on positively with life and enjoy the here and now. And maybe help others along the way.

If you’re reading this, then I wish you all a very mindful 2017 and hope that you can find the time to appreciate the good in everyday.