Erich Brenn Would Be Proud: How I Keep My Plates Spinning (Mostly)

As regular readers will know, I recently bought a new pair of glasses. I couldn’t be happier but there were a few issues at first. New glasses can lead to headaches until your eyes adjust. The frames sit differently on my face too and I had some pain across the bridge of my nose as they settled into place. They’re fine now but for the first week or two I occasionally reverted to wearing my old glasses for a few hours. Doing so was a trade-off between seeing clearly, and seeing less clearly but with less discomfort.

It got me thinking about how life is often a compromise between caring for some aspects of our health and wellbeing at the expense of others. The trick is not to ignore any one aspect for so long so that it becomes critical. It’s an ongoing challenge to keep all my plates spinning, to borrow an analogy from my friend Maya. If you’re unfamiliar with the reference, check out this video of plate spinning maestro Erich Brenn. My plates are many and varied but I can group them into three categories: physical, mental, and emotional.

Physical

I usually get between six and seven hours sleep a night. This works well enough but leaves me running a slight sleep deficit. I’ve a pretty high tolerance to physical tiredness, but every now and again it catches up with me. My wake up time is dictated by my work schedule, and I hate going to bed early because it always feels like I’m short-changing myself on the day! If I’m really tired I might retire early for a few nights, but that’s about it.

I’m talking here about the kind of physical tiredness that’s refreshed by resting and sleep. Fran and a number of my other friends live with health conditions that often leave them extremely fatigued and low-to-empty in terms of physical and mental energy. For them, rest isn’t a luxury or something that can be indefinitely deferred. It’s an essential part of how they manage their symptoms. That might involve spending hours if not days in bed or on the couch, or withdrawing from all but absolutely essential activities until things improve.

Fran and I sometimes find ourselves in need of rest at the same time, and take the opportunity to share some shut-eye time together on our regular video calls. I wrote about the first time this happened in a blog post about how sharing quiet moments can deepen your friendship. We still do this when we’re tired and in need of a little time out. I find it really helpful. It’s the only time I give myself permission to doze or even close my eyes during the day.

Mental

I’m better at paying attention to my mental health. I tend to notice when I’m getting mentally tired, stressed, or overwhelmed and take steps to reset and recoup my energy and focus. Writing helps, whether it’s blogging or writing my personal journal. That might seem counterintuitive, but working on my latest blog post or exploring things in my journal brings my focus inwards and counters any sense of overwhelm I might be feeling.

Distraction is another useful strategy. Fran immerses herself in Netflix shows when she needs to unwind or escape intrusive or unhealthy thoughts. Other friends stream music and shows in a similar way, or use computer games as a distraction. I’m not into gaming myself, although I’ve found simple colour or shape sorting games helpful in the past. More commonly, I unwind with YouTube videos on topics such as astronomy and physics, mathematics, historical/military documentaries, and air crash investigations. Anything that bears little direct relation to what’s going on in my life at the time.

Emotional

It’s not a good idea to ignore my physical wellbeing as much as I do but I have few physical health issues and find those plates stay up there even when they’re wobbling quite a bit. Mentally, I recover fairly quickly. As long as I stay vigilant to any wobbles, I can give my mental plates a quick nudge now and again and they’ll keep spinning. It’s my emotional crockery that gives me the most concern. That might some as a surprise to some. I remember being told “you never get emotional” which is so far from the truth it would be funny if it wasn’t tragic. My emotional plates and bowls — indeed the entire vintage seventy-two piece bone china dinner service — have often been on the point of crashing spectacularly to the floor. I haven’t always got to them in time.

My key coping strategies are documented in my Wellness And Recovery Action Plan. A WRAP can cover any situations in which we find ourselves struggling or becoming unwell. Mine focuses on my emotional wellbeing because that’s what I struggle with the most. My coping strategies include talking things over with people I trust (but not over-processing); pulling back to assess what’s actually happening; temporarily withdrawing from connections and social media; listing allowed and not allowed behaviour; focusing on writing, blogging, and reading; and reminding myself how my actions are impacting others. Listening to music can be helpful but that depends on the circumstances. Music can soothe, reassure, and distract, but it can also bring memories and emotions to the surface I may not ready to deal with at the time.

Too Many Plates

I’ve focused on how I keep my plates spinning, but sometimes there’s just too much crockery up there! It’s more graceful to catch a few pieces before they fall and set them safely aside, but it’s okay if one or more end up on the floor. Maybe we took on too many tasks at once, either because we overestimated our capabilities or because we were given little opportunity to say no. Maybe we tried to handle just a little too much drama, our own or other people’s. Maybe life simply threw more at us than we could ever hope to keep going at the same time.

It can seem like the end of the world when a plate drops, but it’s rarely as desperate as it appears. Unless everything has utterly collapsed — in which case extreme self-care is what we need before we can ever think of setting up again for another go — there are still plates up there we can attend to. It may even prove easier to attend to those that remain. As for the broken items, there may still be something there worth recovering. An unattended friendship may feel like it’s over, but the break might be repaired and the connection strengthen as a result. That’s happened to me more than once. A health condition might have returned or emerged that appears awful but leads to it being properly diagnosed or treated more effectively. A personal or family crisis or loss might seem impossible to survive, yet we move through it.

The Japanese word kintsugi roughly translates as “joining with gold” and is an ancient repair technique using lacquer dusted with powdered gold to repair broken ceramic vessels. It’s often taken as a reminder that mistakes and damage are a necessary part of life. With care and loving attention they can often be repaired and even celebrated as important stages in our journey. Not all damage can be repaired, of course. Some hurts are too deep and their effects too devastating to be easily fixed or transformed into something valuable and life-affirming. Sometimes all we can do is look at the broken crockery at our feet and hope there’s someone to help us clean up the mess.

Over to You

In this article I’ve shared some of the ways I keep my plates spinning, recognising that there are times it’s neither possible nor healthy to have so many things up there at the same time. We can pay attention to this thing or that thing up to a point but sometimes it’s all too much and we need to set everything down and rest.

One way or another, most of this comes down to self-care. I’ve collected a number of articles on self-care which I find helpful. These cover practical strategies, suggestions for making a difference to your day, kindness and gratitude, music and playlists, getting out and about, and recognising that we don’t have to do everything on our own.

What techniques and strategies do you use when you find your plates wobbling? Do you recognise when you have too much going on and take steps to intervene, or do you tend to press on until everything crashes around you? Fran and I would love to hear your thoughts and ideas, either in the comments below or via our contact page.

 

Photo by Matthew Henry at Burst.

 

THIS BOY GETS SAD TOO

And I might be okay but I’m not fine at all.

(Elisabeth Wagner Rose / Taylor Alison Swift. “All Too Well.”)

I wrote recently that I’ve never felt part of any group or collective, even those to which I’ve felt the strongest of attractions. As painful as that’s been, does it really matter? So what if I don’t belong to the tribe of writers and poets I’ve met in the past few years? There’s no lasting harm in discovering I’m not a performance artist! Some exclusions, however, are more perilous. Being excluded from my local recovery college for having no lived experience of mental illness was completely justified, but it left me feeling permanently estranged. If I began displaying symptoms of mental ill-health I’d almost certainly play it down. Not from shame, but because I’d be afraid people would think I was faking it, or exaggerating things in order to “join the club.” The irony is, even with a diagnosis I’d probably still feel I had no legitimate right to be there.

I feel a fraud, even admitting this. What right do I have to talk about mental health issues when I’m fine — certainly compared to many of my friends. Except I’m not fine, not all the time. The following lines are from my diary, written a few weeks ago. I’d ventured out to one of my favourite coffee shops for the first time since covid restrictions were lifted.

If I’m honest I’m not feeling much in the mood to be “out and about,” but I’ve made an effort. A decent pair of black trousers, my sage green t-shirt, and my tweed jacket. In my lapel is the BOYS GET SAD TOO pin I bought recently. It doesn’t mean the healthy kind of sadness that arises in response to events. I feel that kind sometimes, of course. It means depression, anxiety, stress, mental ill-health of all kinds. Boys — and men — get that way too. I get that way too. The deeper, pervasive malaise I’ve felt for a while is of that kind. It’s becoming endemic. Part of my emotional landscape. Flat, arid, featureless.

Founded by Kyle Stanger, Boys Get Sad Too (BGST) is a fashion brand working for positive change. (“Sometimes it feels like you’re alone. Boys Get Sad Too is here to show you that you’re not.”) I bought the pin to support their endeavours. I didn’t expect its message to resonate as strongly as it does right now.

In my role as a Mental Health First Aider I’ve attended several calls at work recently where the impact of society’s reopening on our mental health was high on the agenda. I heard many first-hand stories of stress, anxiety and other symptoms exacerbated by the drive to get back into the workplace after months of working from home, furlough, or unemployment.

I learned of a survey by the Mental Health Foundation which reported that three-quarters of UK adults have felt so stressed in the past year they felt overwhelmed or unable to cope. Almost one third said they’d had suicidal feelings as a result of stress, and 16% had self-harmed. The only positive I can take from these numbers is that so many felt able to admit being overwhelmed or otherwise struggling. Is that what I’ve been feeling, I wondered. Not suicidal or at risk of self-harm, but stressed to the point of being overwhelmed?

As well as the article on belonging, in the past month I’ve written about gratitude and ingratitude, and reviewed a new novel that touches on mental illness, stigma, obsession, and identity. I love writing and it’s important to me, but it’s been intense. That’s in addition to my day job in the IT services industry and navigating everything that’s been going on for me and those I’m closest to. And of course, all this has been set against the backdrop of coronavirus, as society takes the next tentative steps towards post-covid normalcy. News and social media channels are full of strident, often contradictory, messages: vaccinations and variants, hope and warnings, “Let’s go!” and “No not yet!” All this takes its toll.

Another of last week’s calls discussed Wellness Recovery Action Plans. I’ve written about these before, and have a WRAP of my own. Writing is a key item in my WRAP toolbox. My journal and the articles I’ve been writing have helped me explore what’s been going on, but there’s more work to be done. This post is part of that journey. I messaged my friend and fellow mental health blogger Aimee Wilson of I’m NOT Disordered about it.

“I feel this article is going to be an important one for me, Aimee. Not necessarily a ‘great blog post’ in its own right, but important for me writing it.”

“They’re the best ones, and your thoughts on the importance of the piece will likely show in your writing.”

I hope so, because I owe it to myself to be as honest about my mental health as Aimee, Fran, and so many others I know are about theirs.

Talking with people I trust is another item in my wellness toolbox. I shared my analogy of a dry, arid landscape with Fran on one of our evening calls. I’m going to expand on it here because it captures how I’ve been feeling.

Imagine you’re standing on a hill looking out across the landscape. No matter how your life is going you can see features dotted here and there. Other hills. Mountains. Lakes. Cities. Rivers. The ocean. These are the events in our futures. Holidays. Birthdays. Vacations. Trips. Appointments. They won’t all be things we’re looking forward to but they’re the landmarks we use to measure our progress through life.

Covid descended like a blanket of fog. We lost sight of many of the things that were out there, but had hope they’d still be there when the fog lifted. The fog has been rolling back for some time now. Lockdown has ended, at least here in the UK. Restrictions are being eased. But as I stand on my hill, I’m searching in vain for things to focus on or move towards. For me right now, the landscape is flat, arid, and featureless. Life on the hill feels very small and lonely, but I’m scared to leave it in case what’s out there is worse.

Fran listened without interrupting. Eventually, I stopped talking.

“Are you depressed?”

I thought for a moment.

“Maybe.”

There was no judgment in Fran’s question. She asked the way she might if I’d described having a sore stomach or a headache. It reminded me of a conversation with Aimee a few weeks ago. On that occasion, I was feeling physically unwell, but Aimee asked something I’d not thought about before.

“Which do you struggle to cope with most? When you are poorly mentally or physically?”

It’s not an easy question to answer. I’m fortunate in having had pretty good mental and physical health all my life. I discussed my experience of illness in our book High Tide, Low Tide:

Looking back, I see I squandered many opportunities to develop a compassionate understanding of illness and its impact. My stoic attitude helped me deal with my own [occasional] ill health, but left me incapable of responding with compassion to the needs of others. I mistakenly believed that caring for someone meant making their pain and hurt go away. It would be many years before I learned to open my heart and simply be there for those I care about. I am still learning.

I believe I have learned to be there for people who are struggling or in need. My friend Jen gave me a great compliment recently when she said “You’re different, Marty. Not many people understand people with mental illness.” Right now, though, I’m being invited me to extend the same compassion and understanding to myself. This wasn’t the first time Fran has suggested I might be going through a period of depression. Others have suggested similarly in the past. I trust my friends. I’m aware I have strong emotional responses to events which can affect me for long periods, and I’ve been anxious several times in the past year. Even so, admitting I’m struggling mentally is new for me and it’s scary.

Returning to Aimee’s question, I’m much more likely to tell someone if I’m unwell physically, than if I’m feeling low, stressed, or anxious. In my article Faking Fine: Why We Fib About How We Are, I described how even Fran was surprised to learn there are things I choose not to share with her.

I have my own reasons for faking fine, although Fran found this hard to believe when I pointed it out to her. She assumed I rarely needed to, or would have anything I needed to fake. I understand why she might think this. I don’t live with illness the way Fran and many of my friends do. There are no serious traumas or crises in my past or present. Fran knows me so well that she can often tell if there’s something up with me, whether I mention it or not. But not always.

It’s valid — even healthy — to not share everything with everyone all the time, but keeping health issues to myself is definitely unhealthy. I’m getting better at being open and honest about it, but there’s still a long way to go. So, what am I going to do about all this? I mentioned my Wellness Recovery Action Plan. Most of the tools and strategies in there are geared towards navigating emotional difficulties. They are arguably less relevant for mental health concerns. So one thing I intend to do is review my WRAP and update it where necessary.

Something my friend Jen said is relevant here. We were talking about how she handles her health issues and she said, “The thing is, I help people when I need help. I’m going to call this one of my superpowers.” I realised I’m that way too. I’m more comfortable being there for other people than dealing with my own issues. That might partly be an avoidance strategy on my part, but being there for people is definitely good for my wellbeing. I gain a lot from the kind of genuine exchanges that underpin any mutually supportive relationship.

That’s important because it goes right back to where I started this discussion — my sense of separation and non-belonging. I’ve considered myself a mental health ally since meeting Fran ten years ago. My left wrist is adorned with nine silicone bands, almost all of which are from mental health organisations or events. I have a collection of mental health t-shirts and wear them proudly, even though I know wearing t-shirts is not enough. My BGST badge is the first mental health item I’ve bought that feels like it’s for me.

Maybe accepting and owning the reality of my mental health story — past, present, and future — will help me find the connection that’s eluded me for so long. Not specifically with or within the mental health community. After all, the most fundamental commonality we share is our humanity. My friend Jen summed it up perfectly: “You’re a human, Marty. We struggle. And it sucks but it’s ok.”

 

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Boys Get Sad Too

The following information is from the BGST website.

Boys Get Sad Too aim to raise awareness for the huge percentage of people that struggle with Mental Health issues with conversation provoking designs. The more people talking about the issue the better chance we have of making sure more people are able to see that things can get better with the right support and mindset.

Boys Get Sad Too is not just a clothing brand. It is a community of like-minded people who want to see a positive change in the world. We are official supporters of CALM (The Campaign Against Living Miserably) charity who we donate 10% of our profits to, and we actively work to try and raise awareness for the struggles that men face.

Sometimes it feels like you’re alone. Boys Get Sad Too is here to show you that you’re not.

 

How to Use a Spreadsheet for Wellness and Self-Care

I rarely feel the need to record my self-care habits, but from time to time I find it helpful to monitor things a little more closely.

For the past ten days Fran has been staying with a friend in Arizona, after which she will visit another friend in Florida. Apart from a few days in between, she will be away from home for almost six weeks.

Although we stay in touch, vacations inevitably mean we are less in contact than usual, which can be hard on us both. I’ve also had a few things going on in my personal life that have affected me deeply. At such times it’s is all too easy to slip into feeling low, so based on my Wellness Recovery Action Plan (WRAP) I decided to use a wellness tracker to keep me in touch with healthy practices and activities.

My Wellness Tracker Spreadsheet

I first tried this back in 2013 when Fran took an extended trip around Europe. On that occasion I used a Google Docs spreadsheet and recorded brief notes about what was happening each day, how much exercise (walking) I did, any creative work such as working on our book, any reading I did (what book and for how long), and whether or not I meditated. This time I’m using an Excel spreadsheet to capture the following information on a daily basis: notes, mood, weight, eating, reading, exercise, creativity, water, and vitamins. Let’s look at these in more detail.

Notes

I use the notes column to record key events or feelings from the day.

Mood

I decided to record how I am feeling three times each day: first thing (plotted in blue), midday (orange), and evening (grey) using a six-point scale:

[5] Really good
[4] Baseline / positive
[3] OK
[2] Flat
[1] Low
[0] Struggling

I have written previously about what I mean by feeling flat.

Weight

I weigh at home each evening and track my weight in a separate spreadsheet (Fran and I have tracked our respective weights now for more than seven years) but I decided to include it in my wellness tracker to see how it relates (or doesn’t) to how I’m doing generally.

Eating

I have included two checks to help keep me on track and avoid any tendency to emotional eating (I am aware I tend to eat less if I’m feeling anxious). I record whether I ate healthily during the day; during the week this means yoghurt or porridge for breakfast and soup or a wrap for lunch. (Evening meals at home are generally healthy.) I mostly want to reinforce positive behaviours and activities, but I have a strong tendency to eat supper late at night. This is unhealthy for me and almost guarantees a gain in weight the following day. Including this in my spreadsheet holds me accountable and means I get to “fess up” to myself if I choose to indulge.

Water

This serves as a useful reminder to drink at least one large mug of water (approx 500 ml) each day in addition to my coffee, rooibos tea — and beer!

Vitamins

I take multivitamins plus minerals, vitamin B complex, vitamin C, and vitamin D tablets — when I remember to! Adding them to my tracker spreadsheet encourages me to take them first thing in the morning.

Reading

I enjoy reading but find it hard to settle into it at home. My best time for reading is on my lunch break at work, so this tracker serves as a reminder to do so. I have been reading an excellent book recommended by a friend: I Hate You – Don’t Leave Me: Understanding the Borderline Personality, by Jerold J. Kreisman and Hal Straus.

Exercise

As I have written elsewhere, walking has played an important role in my life for as long as I can remember, so much so that it was one of the first things I included in the wellness tools section of my Wellness Recovery Action Plan (WRAP). I take a walk after dinner most evenings, either to the local store for groceries or a leisurely wander around the neighbourhood.

Creativity

This tracker reminds me to consider some creative pursuit in my day, which usually involves writing or editing posts for our blog. This is in addition to keeping up to date in my personal journal, which I have kept for over four decades.

Observations and Conclusions

I’ve only used the checklist for a few weeks but it’s proving useful in a number of ways. I’m used to exploring my thoughts and feelings in my journal but this is the first time I’ve explicitly tracked my mood over time. I hadn’t realised how variable it can be throughout the day, how rarely it holds steady for more than a couple of days, and how quickly it bounces back after a setback if I don’t get in its way. It’s also interesting to note that my midday mood is much more stable than either morning or evening.

There’s something of a correlation between my mood and my weight, in that my weight came down during the first week when I was struggling a good deal emotionally. I think that’s largely because I’d started the tracker and was paying attention to what I ate, although as I mentioned earlier I tend to eat less when I’m anxious or stressed. As my mood stabilised my weight increased again. I think I allowed myself to overindulge in response to feeling better, especially with my late-night snacks. Not a healthy response!

My mood is closely tied in with what’s happening in my life, especially in my key relationships. This isn’t news to me (or my close friends) but the tracker has brought it into clearer focus. There’s nothing wrong with “feeling what I feel” of course, as long as I don’t take it out on those around me.

All in all, using my wellness tracker spreadsheet has helped keep me on track with healthy behaviours and highlighted areas to focus on in the future.

As I finish this article, Fran is on her way back from Arizona. It will be great to see her for a few days before her next trip, but I find I’m curious to see how things will go — for her and for me — over the next couple of weeks when she is away again. Whatever happens, I will be tracking things closely and paying attention to my self-care.

Do you track your mood and self-care in any way? If you’d like to write about your experiences with wellness tools, check our guest blogger guidelines and get in touch. We’d love to hear from you!

 

Ten Things I Learned about Myself Last Week

It’s been quite a week, one way or another. At times I’ve been as low and despairing as I have in months; at others I’ve felt grounded and whole.

Here are ten things I’ve learned about myself in the process. Maybe some of them will resonate with you too.

1. Things Are Shitty Sometimes

It’s rare for me to feel so low, stressed, or overwhelmed that it interferes with my day-to-day life. Mostly I move through upsets and difficulties fairly smoothly. But sometimes even my tried and tested strategies for making it through bad days fail me.

The best thing I can do then is accept I’m struggling. That’s not easy, because my life is generally stable and secure. I have a home, a family, a job, financial security, amazing friends, and decent health. What is there for me to feel overwhelmed by, anxious or low about? I’m aware of the danger such thinking presents, however. “I’ve no right to be struggling” stops people seeking the help they might need. So yes, my life gets shitty too sometimes.

2. Things Will Shift If You Allow Them To

When you’re in the middle of a bad situation it can seem like you’re stuck there permanently. The lost friendship or relationship is gone for good. The period of difficulty or illness or whatever it might be is never going to end or improve. There”s no hope. What’s the point of even trying to move forward?

When I get to feeling that way it helps to recall times in the past when I felt similarly stuck and remind myself that no situation, good or bad, is permanent. Do whatever you need to hang in there. Change will come all the easier if you’re not holding too tightly to the present situation. As American big-wave surfer Laird Hamilton puts it: “If you just get out of your own way... It is amazing what will come to you.”

3. Sometimes I Need to Put Me First

Friends sometimes ask me if they’re ever a burden. With complete honesty I can say that is NEVER the case. However, there are times when I get triggered or overwhelmed by whatever is going on my life. It’s vital I recognise when that is happening, pay attention to my boundaries, and take whatever steps are necessary to bring myself back to a more secure and stable place. The Wellness Recovery Action Plan (WRAP) workshop I took last year helped me understand this and I turn to my own plan when I start to struggle. I have done in recent months and did so again last week.

4. It’s OK to Ask for Help

Reaching out for help is a crucial step on the road back to stability. What that looks like will depend on your needs and the support network you have in place. I’m blessed in having friends I can be honest and open with, but even so it’s hard for me to “fess up” and ask for help. It gets easier with practice though, which is why that first step — which can feel like a huge leap of faith — is so important. I’m proud that I asked for the support I needed, and grateful to those who were there for me.

5. I Can’t Help Everyone All the Time

Sometimes I have to accept that I’m not the right person to help someone I care about, no matter how much I want to. It doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with me or our relationship, it’s just that I can’t offer what they most need. It’s harder when it’s someone I’ve helped in the past, but needs change and on a different occasion they might need support I’m unable to provide.

Maybe I don’t have the relevant skills, knowledge, or experience. Or maybe I’m unavailable or struggling myself so that I need to put all my energy and focus into self-care for a while. And of course this applies to others too. Their ability to help me depends on my needs at that moment and their personal situation.

All this might seem a sad state of affairs, as though we can’t rely on anyone to be there for us all the time, or rely on ourselves to be there for others. This is true (to pretend otherwise is unrealistic and unhealthy) but if we can face it with compassion the realisation can be deeply empowering. That’s why it’s important to have more than one person in your support network. There are four or five people I trust to be there for me. At any given time some may be unavailable or unable to offer the support I need, but I trust them to tell me if that’s the case.

6. Paying Attention Pays Dividends

There is a line in our book High Tide, Low Tide:

Give people what they need. Not what you need to give them.

This hit home hard recently when I failed to pay attention to what one of my friends needed. Instead of listening to what she asked me to do I took it upon myself to decide what was best. At another time it might have been no more than a minor annoyance to my friend. On this occasion, however, it was deeply unhelpful and hurtful.

And that’s the point. We can’t know when paying attention really matters, so make it your default approach. My friend and I have repaired the damage. We’ve talked it over and are closer for the experience. I’ve already used what I learned to help someone else who was struggling with a similar situation. I’m sad, though, that my friend had to pay the price of my learning something I ought to have known already.

7. Trust Is the Antidote to Fear

Some people wear worry as a badge of honour or as a sign of their commitment — “I’ve been so worried about you!” — but I know how toxic it can be. I learned this with Fran years ago. Don’t worry about me, care about me is the central message of our book High Tide, Low Tide and the foundation of our relationship. The key distinction is that worry is based on fear whereas caring is based on trust. I sometimes lose sight of this, however, as I wrote to a friend recently:

You’ve been so poorly lately and had so much going on for you that at times I have slipped into worry. The stressy, unhealthy worry energy that’s hard to avoid even though I know it doesn’t help anyone. Not you. Not me.

The antidote to fear is trust, and I’ve relearned that this week. I acknowledged what had happened and let go of my need to control things I had no business imagining I could control. I trusted that my friend is doing everything she can to be as well and safe as possible, and that the rest of her support team are there for her. And I renewed my trust in myself, to be the friend she needs me to be. No less, no more.

8. My Mood Is Dependent on My Relationships

A friend recently sent me an article by Angela Theresa titled Six Things Your Borderline Friend Wants You to Know. I was surprised how much of the piece rang true for me; especially the fear of abandonment, the need for validation, and the emotional intensity:

If you are my friend, I am loyal to you. You are beautiful to me. Your accomplishments are poetry. I think you’re fucking amazing. And you’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had.

My intensity has caused me issues in the past. I’m usually too much for people (or not enough, if I have been overcompensating for my tendency to excess). The downside is that I hurt deeply too, but I’m working with that. I still get it wrong more often than I like to admit but I have a small group of close friends with whom I feel safe and able to be myself. I am more grateful to — and for — them than I can ever say.

9. I’m (Still) Not Perfect

At work and outside it, I strive to improve myself. I read. I take courses and attend workshops. I talk with people. I listen. I’ve certainly learned a lot in the past week or so. And yet, I am still not perfect. (Sorry to disillusion you, Fran!) I make mistakes. Only last night a friend pointed out that I wasn’t paying attention to what she was saying. Rather than listening I was leaping in with suggestions and potential “fixes.” She was right to call me out on it and I am grateful to her for doing so.

10. Honesty Can Be Breathtakingly Beautiful

I write a lot about “honesty and openness.” To me these are essential components of any friendship or relationship. I’m not 100% full-on, in-your-face, open with everyone all the time, of course. That would be overwhelming and is what Brené Brown calls floodlighting.

I do, however, aim to be honest with everyone. As I wrote on social media precisely one year ago, “If you can be honest about what you need, that’s a real relationship right there.”

The past week has been characterised by honesty. I was honest with myself and others about the fact I was struggling and needed support. Friends were honest about how they were feeling, including letting me know when I’d contributed to their distress. (Thank you — how else am I to learn?) I was able to hear what was being said and take responsibility for my mistakes and my share of any misunderstandings and miscommunication.

Best of all, I’ve been honest with friends about how important they are to me, and heard how important I am to them. It’s not a sign of insecurity to value such moments. They can be breathtakingly beautiful. As I told one friend the other day, “I’m glad we can be honest with each other like this. It doesn’t happen with everyone and it’s lovely.”

 

Ten Ways to Turn a Bad Day Around

There’s nothing inherently wrong with having a bad day. It’s natural, I would even say healthy, for our mood to fluctuate in response to whatever is going on around us. On the other hand, no one wants to stay stuck in a rut.

Here are ten techniques I use when I’m having a rough day. Several of them feature in my Wellness Recovery Action Plan (WRAP).

It’s worth saying these are not fixes or solutions for anxiety, depression, or other mental health conditions although they might form part of a person’s wellness toolbox. They help me weather the ups and downs of life and I offer them on that basis.

1. Go for a Walk

I’ve written elsewhere about how important walking is to my wellbeing. It’s my go-to strategy when things are getting me down. Walking allows me to acknowledge whatever feelings are present for me, experience them, and then let them go. I sometimes use the “hot coals” technique I learned from Fran. I close my hand at my chest, taking hold of whatever feeling I wish to release. I extend my hand to the side and open it, palm down as I walk on. As silly as it might sound, it works. Try it next time you are feeling stuck.

2. Talk with a Friend

I’m fortunate to have a small number of friends I can turn to if I need to share what’s going on for me. I don’t find it easy to be vulnerable but with these few people I feel safe enough to be myself, knowing they will listen without judgement. There are few personal skills more important and healthy than the art of listening.

3. Write It Out

Writing features prominently in my Wellness Recovery Action Plan (WRAP). Apart from our two books and my blogging I’ve kept a daily journal since I was fourteen years old. For most of that time I wrote my diary each evening for the previous day. More recently I’ve started capturing my thoughts in the morning and at various times throughout the day. This means my diary is more of an in-the-moment account of how I’m feeling than an historic account of “how I felt yesterday.” Although journaling is an important part of my wellness regime I occasionally find myself trapped in an unhealthy cycle of introspection. To break the pattern I might challenge myself not to write any more about a certain person or situation until something specific changes.

4. Distract Yourself

Distraction is a core strategy of Dialectical behaviour therapy (DBT); others are self-soothing, improving the moment, and pros and cons. My friend and fellow mental health blogger Aimee Wilson has written extensively about distraction in a DBT context on her blog I’m NOT Disordered. According to Aimee,

Distraction can include writing and other creative activities, reading, beauty treatments, really anything that can take your attention away from what is bothering you. It is important not to overuse this or it can become avoidance.

I find distraction techniques help when I’m feeling stuck or overwhelmed, especially if other approaches aren’t working. Recently I’ve distracted myself by listening to the BBC News channel when I’m at work or at home in the evening. I can understand that for many people the barrage of world affairs might be upsetting or triggering but it stops me obsessing about things that are troubling me. Music can have a similar effect although I’m careful what I choose to listen to in case it exacerbates how I’m feeling rather than providing relief.

5. Escape for a Bit

Escape is similar to distraction except that the intention is to consciously set the difficult situation aside and find comfort and solace elsewhere for a while. Movies and television shows work well for me, especially when Fran and I watch DVDs or Netflix together online. For an hour or two we can put everything on hold and immerse ourselves in whatever we are watching. This doesn’t fix things but it allows time for my emotions and thoughts to settle and for fresh ideas to emerge. Taking a break from social media can have the same effect.

6. Reward Yourself

I’ve written elsewhere how important it is to recognise and celebrate our successes. That said, when I’m low or upset it’s hard to believe I’m worthy of reward because my default is to blame myself for whatever’s gone wrong. My friend Jen reminded me that no matter what’s happening I can take responsibility and reward myself for that.

What about playdates, Marty? Do you have playdates with yourself? Take yourself to a movie, or to dinner, or to a good bookstore?

This doesn’t work too well if my underlying mood is very low; rather than celebrate I’m likely to spend the time brooding. But if I’ve begun to shift things using some of the other techniques, treating myself can help move me forward.

7. Find Solid Ground

When I’m overwhelmed it can be hard to find a stable point of reference. Paying attention to my day-to-day routine helps but it’s not always enough to get me to a place where I feel grounded and secure. When other techniques fail I sometimes attempt to “jolt myself” back to a time or place when I felt more stable. Music from a particular period in my life can work, as can looking through old photographs or reading my journal from years ago. The aim is to get my feet under me again and then return to the present to face whatever is going on from that place of stability and safety.

8. Change Something

Changing even one small aspect of your situation can affect how you feel. When I’m low or stressed I take less interest in my appearance. Sorting out a nice shirt and my favourite tweed jacket in the morning can be all it takes to shift my mood in a positive direction. Get out of the house if you’ve been stuck inside. Try a different café or even a different table at your regular place. Drive or walk an alternate route to work or to the store. Talk to someone other than the people you usually turn to.

9. Accept How It Is

Despite having all the techniques at your fingertips, sometimes nothing can turn the day around. Processing, talking, escaping, distracting, rewarding — they all take time, energy, and focus and sometimes you just can’t. All you can do is accept you’re having a rubbish day and handle it as safely as you can. Cry, scream, grumble, isolate — whatever it takes to get you through. The very act of “giving up” can help shift your mood. It may not, but it’s worth a try.

10. Go to Bed!

If you’ve made it to the evening — or even the middle of the afternoon — and things are still looking grim, sometimes the best option is to turn your back on the rest of the day and turn in. Tomorrow is a new day and maybe things will look different in the morning.

I’ve shared some of the techniques I use to turn the day around. What works for you? I’d love to hear your thoughts, experiences and ideas!

 

One Step at a Time: Walking for Wellness, Walking for Me

When I’m happy, I walk.
When I’m sad, or lonely or lost.
When I’m hurting, or numb.
When there’s too much to think about
Or nothing on my mind.
I walk.

Walking has played an important role in my life for as long as I can remember. So much so that it was one of the first things I included in the wellness tools section of my Wellness Recovery Action Plan (WRAP). It’s also made its way into my writing more often than I’d realised until I began writing this article. (The idea for this piece came to me whilst, wait for it, walking into work one morning a few weeks ago.)

My family never owned a car, so when I was growing up in Liverpool if I wanted to go somewhere it was catch the bus or walk. From the age of eleven I walked thirty or forty minutes each way to and from school, lost in my thoughts about whatever was going on for me at the time. In my late teens I remember going for Sunday evening walks to West Derby village and back, a round trip of maybe an hour and a half at my ambling, contemplative pace.

About that time I started going on the Ramblers’ Association (now The Ramblers) public walks every couple of months with my aunt and her friend. I loved the exercise and the sense of freedom, being out on the hills. The people were lovely but I mostly kept my own counsel and walked separately the rest. There was one exception, a lady whose name escapes me some forty years on. Her spirit is captured, however, in one of my poems from that time.

Song to the high hills

Take my hand offered
across streams
we jump
that trickle your laughter
down the savage fen.
Share with me one day’s
journey
in this weird land,
where even the spring shuns
the mark of our
trespass
and unnamed birds cast down
forsaken echoes
from the high hills above us.
Do you not see
the whole earth bleeding …
distant mountains burn
a venous red
and at our feet
the bare rocks haemorrhage,
oozing lichen up from unseen wounds.
Believe me,
cares that clothe us
city-bound
will fall
today
like autumn leaves
       that colour in your hair
come winter’s purge.
And yet, in all of this,
a little rain might mark my sadness
sevenfold
to court you but a day
—surely inhibition falters
as we share the innocence
of exploration together.

Innocence tempting revelation.

From: Collected Poems: 1977–1984.

I joined the hiking club at university but didn’t keep it up. I do recall one hike with friends across Ilkley Moor during a thunderstorm that painted the sky in all manner of crazy hues. Instead, I took to taking urban walks on my own, mostly early in the morning. A favourite route took me out of town to a park where I would sit a while by the lake before making my way back for lectures. One day I went further than I intended and got myself a bit lost. I remember taking my shoes off and walking part of the way back barefoot across a golf course in the rain. A different early walk, along a derelict railway to the local park, was captured in another of my poems.

The Bunch of Wild Flowers

this morning
as you slept in his arms
I wandered,
picked you flowers white as sonnets
early in the morning
where the lonely go
and lovers wonder)

stirring in your arms he
tasted autumn in your hair
ascent of flowers,
brushed away the cobwebs or a dream
and (plucked one throbbing rose as red as
kisses
early in the garden
where the lovers grow
within each other’s arms

And bore you welcomes wild
of flowers truer than all orchids
my love
this morning as you slept
in his arms I wandered
gathering poems deep as daisies
early in the morning
where the lovers
go,

From: Collected Poems: 1977–1984.

Urban or rural, walking for me has always been about space: space in which to think or not think, depending on what I most need at the time. It is my instinctive response to uncertainty, challenge, and loss. When I got the news that PJ, a dear friend from university days, had died my instinctive reaction was to get out of the house and walk. It didn’t matter where, I just needed to be moving. (Years later, that one evening of loss is imprinted on these local streets, although I’ve added many overlying layers of other days, people and memories in the intervening years.) A week or so later I took the day off work and went to the coast for a solitary hike, long enough to try and process the fact that my friend was no longer here. After my mother died I walked by Crosby Marina the evening of her funeral. The words that came to me are, perhaps, a poem. If so, it is the first I’ve written in many years.

Wandering
Wondering

How do I feel
What do I feel

Release
Relief

Re birth

Stillness
Silence

Un known
Un homed

Un tethered

Still
Calm

Centred (thank you

— Liverpool, March 26, 2018

I mostly prefer to walk alone but there have been times when I’ve taken a trusted friend along. One of my dearest memories of PJ is of walking her home in the snow one dark winter night. Years later I recall another walk in the snow with a different friend, when we got seriously lost on Wimbledon Common. The walk Fran and I took around Beaulieu in 2013 when we met in person for the first time was, quite simply, precious.

We walked, and talked, and took photos of the Abbey and gardens, and went on the monorail and the old open-top bus, and walked some more, and sat, and talked some more. It was amazing—and the most natural thing in the world. If we were a little shy it didn’t show. We were just two friends out together enjoying the day.

From: High Tide, Low Tide, The Caring Friend’s Guide to Bipolar Disorder.

Walks by the sea are special. I spent six months in Norwich on placement from university. One Sunday I drove to the coast with one of the other students for an hour or so walking on the shore.

(In the Depths of) Singing

Down the western reaches of the sea i
findme walking with a friend,
wind and seasalt wildly in the sky, you on
my mind. Late november: pebbles in a
wilderness of oceans and a fulling moon.

Something like the flesh of friends too
raw for touching walkwe. Two
investigating puddles. Our togetherness apart
we wander down our dreams while all the
waves one water can involve strike
sparks about our feet. From flints we
gather in the night.
We gather. In the

(o i love the waves that break upon
me like you)

nightly

From: Collected Poems: 1977–1984.

That memory sparks another. One morning long ago when I ought to have been at work but instead spent the day on the beach walking with a friend who understood that sometimes shared solitude is just what is needed.

A few years ago I paddled in the sea along Long Sands Beach at Whitley Bay here in the north-east. At first it was cold. Then my feet went numb. I probably should have come out at that point but I kept going to the point when my feet were hurting with cold. I got out of the water, dried my feet, and put my thick socks and boots on, expecting my feet to warm through within a few minutes. They took so long to thaw out I was beginning to think I had caused some serious damage. I have paddled in the sea several times since then, but not in quite such extreme conditions.

Over time, regular walking routes become saturated with memories. The best example of that is the walk I take each evening when on holiday at the Cumbrian cottage my family have rented for the past twenty years or so. So rich are the echoes of the people and situations I’ve brought with me in mind and heart over the years that I’ve named it Memory Lane. Fran has accompanied me on that walk many times via the magic of Skype. A few other friends have done the same.

I have done a few sponsored walks. When I was at school I organised a twenty mile walk for friends in aid of the World Wildlife Fund. I think only two of us completed the task but we did raise some money. More recently I have done the Alzheimer’s Society Memory Walk a couple of times, and taken part in the NAMI Maine Walk, accompanying Fran from 3,000 miles away. Last December I took part in the Jingle Bell Walk to raise money for children’s cancer charity The Chris Lucas Trust.

Returning to my solo walks and their place in my wellbeing, the best example is the walk I took almost every evening during the summer of 2013 when Fran was traveling in Europe. Those walks were part of my wellness plan for that period, which was the most challenging we’d faced as friends and one of the most traumatic Fran had ever experienced.

That wellness plan developed into the Wellness Recovery Action Plan I mentioned at the start of this article. It is a living document and will grow with me as my needs change, but I cannot imagine walking not being in there as one of my key wellness tools.

Well, this article has turned out to be rather long and rambling, much like many of my walks!

I will close with another passage from our book, because short or long every walk starts out as a single step, then another, then another. And where steps are concerned, size and speed are not always the most important things. The important thing is to keep moving.

As we like to say, baby steps are steps too.

This is one of our favourite [sayings]. It reminds us to stay focused in the present moment, to take life one step at a time, and to acknowledge that even the smallest advance counts as progress. Fran is very goal-oriented, and becomes frustrated if she seems to be straying off course or failing to make fast enough progress. In depression, this can reach a point where she despairs of ever achieving her targets or even progressing further towards them. At such times, “Baby steps are steps too” reminds her that she rarely stays stuck for long. She will try new ideas, or re-visit old ones, until something happens to move her forward.

From: High Tide, Low Tide, The Caring Friend’s Guide to Bipolar Disorder.

 

Attending a Wellness Recovery Action Plan (WRAP) Workshop at ReCoCo

Disclaimer: Wellness Recovery Action Plan® and WRAP® are registered trademarks. All rights are reserved by the copyright holder, Advocates for Human Potential, Inc.

I wrote recently about how I came to enrol at Newcastle Recovery College (ReCoCo) and a little of what the college means to me. I have also written about the first class I took, which was on self-harm awareness.

In this article I describe my experiences attending the Wellness Recovery Action Plan (WRAP) Awareness workshop. The following description is taken from the ReCoCo website:

WRAP AWARENESS

A workshop for people who experience mental health challenges and for those who care about them. It promotes a structured approach to developing a range of strategies to support self-management in recovery from distress. WRAP® (Wellness Recovery Action Plan) is a plan designed and managed by you and is designed to:

• Decrease and prevent intrusive or troubling feelings and behaviours
• Increase personal empowerment
• Improve quality of life
• Assist you in achieving your own life goals and dreams

Wellness Recovery Action Plan (WRAP) was created by Mary Ellen Copeland, an author, educator and mental health recovery advocate in the USA. You can find lots of information and resources on the Mental Health Recovery website, including a short summary video.

The ReCoCo sessions I attended were led by two facilitators. There were twelve students in the first class (two did not return for the second session). For obvious reasons I will not be sharing names or details but there was a fantastic rapport within the group and I believe we all got an enormous amount from the workshops.

The first session began with introductions and ground rules. We were also invited to gauge where we were on a scale of one (very poorly) to ten (feeling well). I judged myself to be around a seven: I was feeling positive about being there but I had a lot going on for me at the time. We covered the basics of what WRAP is and its five key recovery concepts:

• Hope
• Personal Responsibility
• Education
• Self-Advocacy
• Support

We then started going through the separate parts of the WRAP plan itself. The facilitators invited us to contribute examples from our personal experience. These were written up and displayed around the room so we could refer back to them if necessary. Note that some of the following description may differ a little from the official Mental Health Recovery definitions and approach. Any misinterpretations, errors and omissions are mine.

Day 1

• Wellness Tools. These are things which contribute to our feeling good and remaining stable.
• What I’m Like When I Am Well. In this section we describe how we feel and behave when we are doing well. It serves as a reminder of what it feels to be doing well.
• Daily Maintenance (Daily Plan). In this section we list things we need to do on a daily or regular basis to remain well.

Day 2

• Triggers (Stressors). These are things or situations which can make us feel uncomfortable or worse.
• Early Warning Signs. This is a list of how we feel and behave when we are starting to move away from wellness. If we are aware of these warning signs we can take action before our situation worsens into crisis. At this stage we are able to use our daily maintenance plan and wellness tools to restore us to balance.
• When Things are Breaking Down (Crisis Point). Here we list feelings and behaviours which indicate we are feeling much worse or are approaching, or in, crisis. At this stage our usual wellness tools are not going to work and we need a stronger action plan to get back to wellness.
• Crisis Plan. The plan includes signs that let others know they need to take over responsibility for your care and decision making, in ways you have agreed beforehand. The plan starts with identifying people you want to take over certain (specified) responsibilities and support you. It includes things that will be helpful to you as well as things that will not be helpful.
• Post-Crisis Plan. The final part of the WRAP covers how you might return to wellness and stability after a crisis situation has occurred.

At the end of the second day’s session we were again invited to gauge where we were on the one to ten wellness scale. I felt about the same (seven) as the previous week although a lot had shifted for me in the intervening days. The WRAP workshop itself had helped me process some of what had been going on for me.

We completed our post-training evaluation and parted. I think we were all sad that we would not be continuing the class, but ReCoCo does offer one-to-one WRAP drop in sessions by appointment with the WRAP course leader. This is something I may take advantage of as I work on my own plan, which I have started to do. I may blog that in time once I have it in a more or less stable state, though by its very nature a WRAP is a living document and subject to review and change.

For more information about Newcastle Recovery College and their courses check their website.

 

Bombogenesis: Some Things You Just Can’t Plan For!

Samoset Resort, Rockport, Maine

Well, Fran and her folks made it to Samoset! Given the appalling weather (“bomb cyclone”) that has hit America’s East Coast in the past few days, Christa and Gary made decent progress from their home in New Jersey to Fran’s place in Portland, Maine. They arrived around 9 p.m. my time (4 p.m. their time), then drove on to Samoset with Fran navigating.

We’d Skyped earlier in the day, while Fran was waiting for them to arrive. I was glad to find her calm and prepared. Most of our focus over the past couple of months has been preparing for this trip, and then Mexico in another couple of weeks. It hasn’t always been easy for Fran, balancing her health and other needs with the seemingly endless items on our To Do lists and travel plans, but we approached it as we always do: one step at a time. I am proud of how she’s kept going. And now it’s not just something up ahead that we are planning for. It’s real. It’s happening.

The weather was one thing we had not bargained on. There had been times when it looked like maybe the trip wouldn’t happen, or would be delayed by a day or two. Fran had checked in with her mom every day, and we had kept a close eye on the weather and travel reports, as well as public webcams along the route they would be taking.

As we’d anticipated, the interstates had mostly been cleared after the heavy snow fall the day before, but conditions worsened once they hit the minor roads. There was one scary moment, when they went into a snow drift. Fran messaged me to get the AAA number for them, which I did (reprising my Angel Duty role from previous trips) but in the end the police got them on their way. My relief and gratitude prompted me to post on social media: “A quiet thank you to all the emergency and support services who are there for us when we need them.”

Fran messaged me a little after 7 p.m. their time (my midnight). Two little words that meant so much: “Made it!”

It’s always odd when Fran is away. I don’t know how much Skype time we will manage this week. They have Wi-Fi where they are staying, but I need to leave that up to Fran and not get grumpy or clingy if it is not as much as I would like. She is away with her mom, and that’s what this trip is mostly about. I will be there for when she needs me, as I told her the other night, when she was feeling a little uncertain how things would go.

“I’m gonna be right at your side through this week, Frannie.”

“I’m glad.”

As well as a trip in itself, Samoset is a prelude to the month Fran will spend soon in Mexico. It’s important for me (for us) to keep that bigger picture in mind. This week in Samoset. One week at home. Four weeks in Mexico. We need to stay vigilant, starting now. As we always do before a trip, we recently reviewed and updated Fran’s Travel Wellness Plan. The key things to keep an eye on remain the same:

• Fran’s mood (and mine!)
• Any specific flags for depression or mania
• Her levels of energy / fatigue / pain
• Her rest and sleeping patterns
• Her eating and drinking

(Fran won’t weigh while she’s away but she’s been doing well recently—far better than I have!—and won’t want to have slipped back when she checks in with her scales again next week.)

I need to pay attention to my self-care and wellness too, so as to be there for Fran as effectively as possible and not over burden her with my stuff. These are lessons we learned first-hand a few years ago when Fran spent three months traveling in Europe. Our respective Wellness Plans proved invaluable, and I have reread the relevant chapters from our book in readiness for the weeks ahead.

I needed to attend to my own well-being if I was to support Fran effectively, so I drew up a wellness plan for myself loosely modelled on hers. I wrote down a list of positive activities and behaviours that were likely to help me through the summer, and gave myself permission to experience fully whatever thoughts and feelings came up, without suppressing or holding on to them.

It was important for me to accept certain aspects of our friendship would change, and I wrote a second list of expectations I needed to let go of. These included our usual morning calls, ongoing chats through the day, and voice or video calls every evening. I set myself a series of specific goals to encourage me to make the most of the time I usually spent online with Fran.

High Tide, Low Tide. Chapter 8, “Together and Apart: Handling Challenge, Change, and Codependency”

The “Things I Would Quite Like to Do in 2018” post I am working on at the moment is a good place for me to start. It’s not on that list as such but I also want to blog more—and more spontaneously—this year. Maybe I can use these musings as part of that...

—Oh look, I did!