Your Own Worst Critic or Your Own Best Friend

You’re useless!  Stop being such a pathetic coward. Grow up, don’t be such a baby. Idiot! Why did you say that? Now everyone knows how stupid you are. You can’t do anything right! I don’t even know why you bother to try! Just be quiet and stop annoying everyone.

Does this sound like something you would say to somebody?  I’d like to presume answer is no (if it’s not, we can’t be friends).  The words are cruel, vile and unnecessary and the thought of saying something like this to another person is vulgar. Yet, I’ve been guilty of saying these words many times over in the past and still do from time to time – not to anyone else, that’s unimaginable, but to myself.

To judge ourselves harshly, to berate and loathe ourselves seems to be socially acceptable and an ugly part of human nature.  We seem to somehow justify it. It’s as if it’s okay to treat ourselves in this awful way, a way in which we would never dream of treating another living being.

I really think we need to start being a lot kinder to ourselves, to show patience and compassion.  To realise that it’s okay to be scared, unsure, weak, tired and falible to - that’s part of being human.  Nobody expects us to be perfect, so why on earth do we expect this of ourselves. Setting such unachievable standards is a guaranteed road to failure. Putting so much pressure on ourselves is what leads to the self loathing when we don’t live up to our own expectations.  We feel so angry when we think of our own inadequacy that the only emotions we can feel are bad ones.

It’s one of those vicious circles that keep us spiralling downward. The worse we feel the more we hate ourselves, the more we hate ourselves the worse we feel, until eventually we are a blithering wreck with no confidence or drive.

So what if instead we try to talk to ourselves as if we were talking to a friend, or better yet the child version of us? Would you really want to make a child feel so worthless, sad and scared?  Of course not, only a sociopath would want to bully a child.  

What if we were to carry around a picture of the little version of us, either in our head or as a photograph on our phone, and look at that picture every time we start telling ourselves we aren’t good enough and imagine what we’d say to that child instead?  In our heart, aren’t we all just the child version of ourself, trying desperately to get through this crazy life unscathed?

Perhaps it’s time we came to our own defence? To stand up against the part of us that is quick to bite, to judge and to scold and instead to say, “It’s okay, you did your best and your best is good enough – and I love you little one, you’re doing fine”.

DON'T PANIC...(But If You Do, That's Okay).

It's easy to talk about how there's nothing to feel ashamed of when you have a mental health condition. There's no need to feel embarrassed any more so than if you have a headache or a cold. I tell people all the time and I firmly believe it. But saying it is one thing, feeling it when you are having a panic attack, or in the midst of a depressive episode, is quite another.

I recently had a bit of a set back and found myself having a panic attack at work.  My managers were great, my colleagues also. Everyone was so supportive and yet I felt like I had failed. I felt weak, and like I had let myself down.  I was a disappointment, embarrassed and ashamed.  I felt all the things I so strongly believe nobody should have to feel because of something that isn't their fault. So why did this feel like it was my fault?  I should have been able to stay in control, stay composed, swallow down those feelings. I've been there before, right? Shouldn't I have a handle on it by now?

When I thought of people at work seeing me in such a dishevelled state I was mortified. My swollen eyes, puffy face, hyperventilating, out of control in panic.  A panic I couldn't stop from building up, sweeping over me washing me away to a place where I couldn't feel my feet on the ground.

Obviously, rationally I know its okay to go through stuff.  I know my mind is as unique as the next person, we are all wired differently and some of us are prone to these feelings.  I know it isn't my fault and it's okay to break down from time to time.  I know all that and yet I still feel these feelings.

But do you know what?  That's okay too. I'm not going to sit and dwell on these feelings because that is only going to make me feel worse. They will pass in time and I'll once again come to the point where they don't embarrass me any more and I don't cringe and recoil at the memory.

But, until then I'll live with it, accept it and forgive myself for feeling like I need to forgive myself.  Moving forward one day at a time on this journey that is my life, trying to understand what makes me tick until I can live happily and comfortably in my own head again.

My Husband, My Hero

Loving someone with depression and anxiety can be as hard as having it yourself. Having been in both positions, sometimes simultaneously, I feel quite qualified to make that statement. To see somebody you love so much going through something you know to be so awful makes you feel helpless, frustrated and sad.

On the surface, my husband is the happiest, bubbliest and most joyful person you could meet.  He is the life and soul of the party, the one others go to in order to be uplifted.  He is amazing.  His constant desire to help others and bring them happiness is nothing but inspiring and he does it out of a genuine love and want to make the world a better place for the people in it and he wouldn’t change a thing.  Helping others smile is what motivates him and always has been.

He is my hero.

But he is human too and underneath the surface he is as sensitive and fragile as the next person.  Some days he struggles to wear a smile and some days he doesn’t manage at all.  When you give so much of yourself to other people it’s easy to forget to hold something back for yourself.  It’s easy to become overwhelmed.

His depression isn’t the same as mine.  He deals with it differently and while I make no claim to be an expert on the subject, I feel this is true of everyone.  No two people experience mental illness in the same way.  Just because we may have been through similar experiences, it doesn’t mean we know how another person with the same diagnosis is feeling and it’s important to realise that what works for one person may be completely useless and irrelevant to another. What triggers my anxiety alleviates my husbands. When I’m not feeling good I’d rather stay in and cuddle up with a cup of tea and a trashy American cop show.  When JJ feels anxious he’d much rather get out into the world and do something, when he’s feeling depressed he just wants to sleep. I’m sure for other people the triggers are different as are the coping methods, we’re all unique. It’s not caused by weakness any more than somebody getting the flu. It is something we can get better from but it’s not a quick fix. It’s not something to be ashamed of it is something to be learned about and understood.

But what is true, and what we can assume is this…the best thing we can do for a loved one who is depressed is to be there for them, to make sure they know how much they are loved when they are feeling unlovable.  To make sure they know how much they are valued when they are feeling worthless.  To let them know you are there when they are feeling alone. To offer them your patience when they don’t know how to express themselves. To offer them a friendly ear without the pressure of having to talk if they don’t want to.  To just be there for them with the reassurance you aren’t going away and encourage them to get the help they need, whatever that may be.

I love you JJ, you inspire me every day.

Keep being you.

Life In The Shadow Of Anxiety And Depression

It's impossible to think straight when the walls start closing in around you. Something that would be insignificant when perceived through a rational mind is life threatening when you are in an extended state of panic. A panic that grows and grows until it's bigger than the problem that created it,  until it's bigger than you. It blocks out the solution, it blocks out everything.  You wish you didn't feel this way, but you can't remember what it feels like not to.  

Your stomach is in knots, your skin flushes ice cold, but you're sweating, burning up inside.  Each time you think of the thing that's brought you here the feeling intensifies.  Your heart pounds hard in your chest,  you feel every painful beat. You want to cry, and sometimes you can but sometimes the tears won't come and you're trapped with the fear.  It's exhausting to live with.  A constant state of being ready to fight, terrified you won't have the energy to win this battle for yet another day.  And you can't talk about it because nobody would understand,  or they would judge you,  or see you for the failure you feel you are,  or they would find out the secret you have tried so hard and for so long to conceal.

These are the times you would give anything for the sorrow, the all consuming grief that shakes you with heavy sobs. The solace of letting go, a release valve to try and relieve the tension, the fear, the feelings of worthlessness. Trying somehow to cry the pain away, but never quite managing it.  A sorrow so profound it leaves you exhausted,  broken and weak. When the tears come you don't think they're ever going to stop. Your eyes are puffy, your face swollen and red, your body aching and your heart, your lungs, your entire chest hurts. You feel sick from the fatigue of crying so hard and yet you cannot stop. 

These are the times you long for the numbness. The days when you don't feel anything at all.  You see people around you, laughing happily, but you feel nothing. It doesn't hurt, there is no fear, there isn't anything at all. You watch the world through grey tinted glasses, alone amongst friends. You're along for the ride with no idea how you you got on it or where to get off.  Trying to fit in, laughing at the jokes, smiling in all the right places,  but it never quite reaches your eyes. Hearing everything as a dull, muffled blur as if from under a heavy blanket. Staring into the middle distance,  your eyes fixed on nothing. Your mind blank and empty, your heart more so. Trapped in a state of apathy and lethargy, you are hollow, lost and without hope, aspiration or motivation.

These are the times you have to keep fighting. To reach out and grab whatever it takes to stop you falling any further away from yourself. To talk to someone,  to write down your feelings just to get them out, to scream into a pillow. To keep going and hold on to the thought that this too will pass and maybe with a bit of help, you can find your way back to the path back to wellness, the path back to you.

Bad Fire

I don't really get bad moods anymore.  I'm so thankful for that.  Sometimes I still feel sad,  sometimes I still feel anxious, sometimes I feel elated and sometimes I'm slightly annoyed.  But what has gone is the overwhelming irritation that rises up from within,  seemingly without reason and causes me to feel so angry it's tangible.  It itches from within,  it hurts and it can't be explained or understood,  it's just there.  

It builds like fire, rising up and taking over. The spark that starts it can be anything or nothing. Spontaneous internal combustion, volatile and unstable, ready to flare up at any moment with no prior warning or explanation. Something that didn't irritate you one day can make you explode the next and without notice. You're hurting from within, scratching at this invisible sore that you can't understand and you can't explain.

And the only way to quell this awful feeling is to lash out, be it at yourself or other people in your life.  To shout, scream and snap. It's not really anyones fault and deep down you know that, they're just in the wrong place at the right time.  You aren't in control, you don't do it on purpose, it just happens. A harsh, biting word, a raised voice, a nasty look. It comes from somewhere other than you, somewhere dark and primal.

And then there's the brief spell of blessed relief. The itching has stopped,  the anger is gone and for the briefest moment, there is peace.  You can breathe again. The storm has passed and you can hear yourself think.

But then the guilt starts to fill the void and you're plagued with remorse for your outburst.  You shouldn't have lashed out like that,  you should have kept your temper. You hate how awful you made the other person feel with your carelessly thrown words.  Why are you such a nasty horrible person? Your mind forces you to play it back, over and over again until it bears no resemblance to your actual transgression and you start feeling irritated again and you feel that itch to start burning in your chest and stomach once again.

I hadn't noticed the absence of these feelings until recently I saw a glimpse of my former self in the eyes of someone else and I realised how much better my life is now without rage. It can be beaten. It can be controlled. It can be overcome. You don't have to live with this pain. There is help out there in so many different forms. Find one that works for you and start to enjoy life and embrace it.


    

Enough Is Enough...

It's easy to feel like you aren't enough when you're living with a chaotic mind in a chaotic life.  When you have demands coming at you from every direction and you don't know which one to answer first, it's easy to just listen to the voice that shouts the loudest.  When that voice is your own, shouting that you aren't good enough, it's very difficult to ignore.

As humans it seems to be our nature to undervalue our own efforts and gloss over any success.  When you have anxiety and depression it's more profound than that. You loathe yourself, you feel like a failure all the time, you want to do well but no matter how well you do it isn't enough...you're never enough.

Although I can't speak for others I want to say that when it comes to recovery and the ongoing journey I take with anxiety this is especially true. I'm often guilty of judging myself too harshly in regards to how well I'm doing and it's only when I turn a corner and start to feel better I can accept my so called shortcomings.  This is where I am at the moment and this is why I wanted to write this now, so I can read it later when I need to give myself some advice.

This is it...

YOU ARE GOOD ENOUGH.

I'm human, I'm weak and I'm fallible and that's okay.  If we just give ourselves permission to be less than perfect we can start to accept ourselves and love our flaws. We can find a way to live with ourselves in a way that works.

While we need to accept ourselves, we should never stop trying to grow and develop, we just need to be a lot kinder in the way we go about it. We just need to find ways to do things so we can participate in the world without it feeling like a chore or a punishment.

Take me as an example.  I don't like unfamiliar surroundings and I hate having things sprung on me. I need time to plan, to feel a bit in control or else my panic.  It doesn't make me a bad person and it doesn't make me boring.  It's just the way I am. Having a spontaneous husband doesn't make this easy but he is good for me.  He understands when I turn down the sudden suggestion of a night out but equally I am challenged to step out of my comfort zone from time to time.  So now, rather than always saying no, I try to deal with things by putting plans in place to give me back some of the control.  I plan how we're getting there, how we're getting home, how long we're likely to be out and often that's enough for me to go out and have a good time.  But sometimes it's all too much and I have to say no, I can't go out tonight, I'm freaking out...and that's okay.

It doesn't matter how many tries it takes, only that we don't give up.  Life is basically an extended period of trying. Sometimes we succeed, sometimes we learn something and need to try again, sometimes we realise we're going in completely the wrong direction and need to change course and it's all okay.

I think the point I'm trying to make is, if we do what we can do, that's enough. Don't berate yourself, don't judge yourself harshly, don't be your own worst critic.

You did good...
 
   You did what you could...
    
      You did enough...

         You ARE enough.

Thanks For The Memories

Something occurred to me today and I wanted to share. It's to do with my depression and realising how severely affected by it I was. This isn't to say this is what made me get help because it's not, but once I'd started treatment and it had started working this is what I noticed.  I was incredibly negative. This was pointed out to me by Facebook in the form of the memories that would pop up on my timeline each day.  At the time I was just ranting, in my mmind, Iwas being rather amusing with my observations of how irritating other people were, but now when I look back I cringe and realise how deeply unhappy I actually was.

It came out as anger, bitterness and cynicism. I'd complain about the bus, the people on the bus, customers at work, how busy it was in town, service I was getting iintoshops, my neighbours and anything else that had the misfortune of crossing my path.

I was a victim of depression and couldn't see it because depression does that, it masks everything. It's probably a way of coping by mdoingnothing your fault and putting the responsibility for your happiness elsewhere.

Although I didn't realise I was depressed I knew I was never happy.  I cried often, I was ierraticand had lots of mood swings.  I had headaches, feelings of dread and constantly felt tired.

When I finally got treatment and started feeling better I slowly noticed the change in my Facebook posts, they became happier.  When I was reading my memories I was horrified at how bitter and negative they were but that is simply the nature of the beast.

For the last year I have deleted the negative statuses each day when my Memories come up. It's very cathartic and for the last few weeks I have had only happy memories and kind words appearing when I check my account.

The reason I wanted to share this is because if I knew then what I know now I might have noticed the negative trend and bbeingable to identify the fact I wasn't well and got help much sooner.  I don't regret it, because everything that has happened has led me here.  But if sharing this helps somebody else notice that their own way of thinking is perhaps not conducive to their own happiness, maybe it will help them seek help and heal.

Lots of love xx

Living In The Now

Being in the moment is something I've come to be quite good at. 
That's because most of our problems are either in the past or in the
future and not really an issue in the present moment. When I was ill I
was focusing on things I'd done wrong in the past, reliving them over
and over and transforming them into warped and distorted versions of
actual events.  In the end the things I regretted were actually a world a
way from the things I'd done wrong.  In much the same way, when I was
stressed and anxious it was because of a future I was imagining to be
dreadful but in reality was no more than slightly uncomfortable.

My life turned into a vicious cycle of over-analyzing everything I'd done
and over-imagining the horrible consequences that would result of these
Things and it took its toll.

When you can sit down with
A clear mind and reflect on this in a rational way it becomes easy 
See where the problems came from.  At the time it sort of took over who I
was.  It was like being stuck in a swamp of my own thinking and I was
too tangled up in the weeds to get myself out. I needed help which as
I've mentioned many times came in the form of anti-depressants
(Citalopram to be specific).

Once they'd started to work I became genuinely interested  in learning new methods of thinking to try and help me stay out of the swamp going forward. This is one of the things I learned.

The past has happened, nothing we can do can change history.  Reliving negative experiences won't change what's been, all it will do is make you feel worse and cause you pain in the now.  Let it go. Do what you can make amends but for heaven's sake, stop torturing yourself.

The future is a figment of your own imagination.  We can't know what's going to happen - it's impossible.  Dreading what might never occur is a waste of time and in reality all we are dreading is the fear of the unknown.  When the time comes to face our fear it is rarely as painful as we thought it would be.

So if we focus purely on the now, deal with the obstacles directly before us and move forward, there is nothing to dread, nothing to regret just a life to live and a chance to make the right choices as often as we are able.

This is where I find myself now.

If I start to dwell on past events I notice it, I acknowledge that the past is the past, I forgive myself (as often as I need to) And I move back to the present and do something to focus my attention on the moment at hand.

If I start worrying about the future, I pause and rewind.  I replay a more pleasant version of events in my mind, one where I'm coping with everything the situation has to throw at me. I'm handling the potential obstacles with ease and smoothly dealing with the task at hand.  Then I come back to the now and let the future worry about itself.

The Road To Wellness

The catalyst isn't important in this story, after all, the why is different for everyone. Whether it be a build up of little things that eventually break the metaphorical camel's back or a huge, life shattering bombshell, the end result is the same - you cease to function correctly. And after a while, be it long or little, you start to realise that you can't sustain this way of living anymore.  You realise you need to take action and end this negative spiral. You realise there are 2 ways you can go.  You can stay where you are until the chaos consumes you and you're lost forever or you can fight your way through the fog and out the other side. This is the story of my route through the fog.

When I started taking the tablets it wasn't so much a choice, more a necessary.  I had contemplated it on and off for a while when I started realising I felt sad more often than I felt happy. I had talked myself out of it, thanks to the long list of preconceptions I'd put in my own way. This time it was different. This time I was at rock bottom and it wasn't so much as a suggestion from the doctor, more a direction. So I took the tablets and thought to myself this was going to be a miracle cure and thus began to attempt number one.

Three months later, after religiously taking my tablets I started to realise I felt okay again.  I was still quiet, introverted and lacking confidence but I was a lot more stable and less likely to burst into tears because somebody used the wrong tone of voice. So I went back to the doctor and said I'd like to come back off the tablets (after all I was on a relatively low dose anyway) And started to walk without my crutch.

What happens if you walk without a crutch before your leg has healed?  You end up hurting it again.

And so after a few weeks of feeling like I was coping I crashed and burned and realised that actually, nothing had changed. The things that had caused my stresses were still there, the way I reacted to those triggers hadn't changed and unfortunately I was unaware of any of that.  Once again, I was back in the fog feeling even more lost than the first time.

My stomach was heavy with nausea, my skin cold and clammy, my head aching with worry and there was me not wanting to go back to the doctor because I felt like a failure.  I thought the doctor would judge me because I hadn't coped or would refuse to let me have the tablets back because I hadn't given them long enough the first time around. You wouldn't believe the amount of reasons I invented to avoid going back, but once again when it all came to a head, I found myself back there having the same conversation with a few more tears, bearing my soul to a very understanding GP.  I haven't worried and I left the surgery with a prescription for a stronger dose and a feeling of great relief.

This time I stayed on the medication for a lot longer, around a year actually and by the time I came to make the decision to try again, I felt amazing.  I was stronger, I was more confident I had  a plan. I went back to the doctor and had a chat, I made it clear I wanted to come off the tablets gradually so that I wouldn't crash this time.  Unfortunately, I saw a locum who didn't know me and wasn't particularly helpful.  She advised me that I should reduce my dose by 10mgs a week for 4 weeks and then stop.  It sounded too fast, it sounded like a mistake but at the same time I felt so good I assumed this would be fine, after all, she was a doctor.

I followed her advice and within a week of completely stopping I was having palpitations, dizzy spells nausea, tears and hanging on to the top of a very slippery slope with a steep drop. Fortunately, I recognised my symptoms before they overtook me and I feel very proud of the fact I went back to the doctors (again) And did what was best for me.

And so this is where I find myself today.  Yes, I'm still on the tablets, but actually, that's okay.  I'm happy, I'm comfortable in my own head which is the biggest achievement and a feat that once seemed impossible.

So now, rather than worry about when and how I'm going to come off of the tablets I'm living in the now.  I'm using this new found clarity to learn new ways of thinking, new ways to handle the challenges and obstacles life has the habit of hurling in our way and new ways to help other people that are living a similar experience.

Introspective

Nobody consciously chooses depression. Nobody wakes up and thinks, "I know what might be fun... feeling afraid to go out". Nobody wants to be the one amongst their friends with a long list of reasons as to why they can't do something, the one that is always cancelling at the last minute and the one that feels sick every time the phone rings because they haven't had time to think of a decent excuse yet. Nobody wants to live in the constant fear of the uncertainty the future holds. Nobody wants to feel so painfully lonely, but at the same time dread company because you've forgotten how to function with others but that was what my depression felt like.

I was consumed with worrying thoughts that people didn't like me. In reality the problem I had was that I didn't like me. Every negative thought was a step away from who I was. I had turned against myself and slowly spiralled downwards until I was in a hole that seemed too deep to climb out of. Of course I didn't tell anyone how I was feeling. I wore my smile as often as I could, but the mask slipped more and more and flashes of anger and sadness came through.

I didn't want to feel that way, but equally I didn't know how not to. Those feelings had become normal and it was just part of who I was. I wasn't confident, I was over-emotional, I was volatile, but that was me and I just needed to live with it and try to soldier on. I decided I just needed to try harder to control these emotions, to get on with it and get out there into the world, to function when I couldn't think of anything more impossible.

But as time would reveal, when anxiety and depression take hold of you it's not as simple as just deciding you're not going to be feeling that way anymore and flicking a switch. For me, it took medication.

My symptoms included hot flashes of panic, a feeling like the walls were closing in, intense feelings of nausea and convincing myself I had untold numbers of medical conditions. I couldn't think straight and the problem had become very real indeed. My mind was scrambled and no amount of positive thinking was going to change that.

The first step, the hardest step, was recognising the fact that I was ill. It felt like a failure, like admitting defeat and realising I couldn't cope with life and it was horrible - but that was the illness speaking.

I struggled with the idea of taking the tablets, feeling somehow as if I'd failed, but I also knew that I couldn't carry on in my current state and so I took the tablets and it was the hardest thing I've ever done and the best decision I've ever made - but that's a story for another day.

6 Things I Assumed About Taking Antidepressants

1. They would change who I was and steal from me the best bits of my personality.

I have always seen myself as a funny, bubbly person but when funny and bubbly became interspersed with irratic and tearful I needed to admit I needed help. One of the main reasons I fought against taking the tablets for such a long time is I thought they would take away my moments of elation along with the sadness and I wasn't sure it was a sacrifice worth making. It turned out my fears were unfounded and instead they allowed me to enjoy all the good bits of my personality without the anticipation of the low that would surely strike at any given moment.

2. Taking Antidepressants Meant Admitting I Had Failed At Life.

Why wasn't I strong enough to cope with life on my own when everyone around me was doing so well? Depression isolates you and clouds your judgement. Since I've been taking them and found my way back to wellness I have realised that other people are struggling just as much as I was and a surprising number of my friends have also taken tablets at some stage in their life to help them cope with their own emotions.

3. I Was A Weak Person.

I thought the the fact I was having such a hard time mentally and that I needed this crutch to help me cope must mean I was weak. In hindsight, thinking through a clear mind, I acknowledge the tremendous amount of strength it took to get help and admit I needed support and medication.

4. Other People Would Judge Me.

I assumed others would disapprove of me if they knew I had resorted to taking tablets. It turned out this could not have been further from the truth. The majority of people were incredibly supportive, many had been through it themselves, others were still going through it. People commended me for being brave enough to take that step and to also have to courage to talk about it. In truth, I was telling people because I felt dishonest if I didn't, like an athlete taking performance enhancing drugs. But actually it helped to talk about it, it was cathartic and took away from the stigma I had attached to the situation.

5. The Side Effects Would Be Horrendous.

In truth the side effects were minimal and far more desirable than the side effects caused by my anxiety and depression. Anxiety was making me ill. I'd convinced myself I was dying of all manner of terminal illnesses because the very real symptoms caused by stress mimicked so many other things. The tablets on the other hand, gave me strange dreams for a month or so and made me feel tired for a while until I had the sense to take them at night...and that was it.

6. They Would Define Me And Who I Was.

I thought that being on tablets would become part of my identity and would change the way other people saw me. In reality all it did was calm my nerves and allow me to get back to enjoying my life and living it to the fullest and being my best self. So while the Antidepressants haven't defined me at all, they have allowed me to define myself in whatever way I wanted and given me back my confidence, my smile and my life.