A Positive Case

Yesterday I left my suitcase on a train. It doesn't have lots of valuables (doesn't rather than didn't, the recent nature of the loss means I keep it present) - it's the suitcase that my mum and dad gave me for getting a permanent job, it has clothes and a Murakami book I was in the middle of reading and shoes I bought for my friend's wedding. Little things that are important to me. 

When things like this have happened in the past - when I was in the throes of my depression I wouldn't have been able to step back. I would have stayed in that frantic moment, when you feel so electrifyingly alive it's impossible to think straight. When you can't quite believe that it happened to you and you go over your own idiotic behaviour again and again. When you say to yourself forever that it's all your own fault.

Don't get me wrong I was there for a bit. I'm up at a ridiculous hour because I can't get back to sleep. The important difference is I know if I don't get it back it won't be the end of the world. I can get myself out of those negative spaces I used to roam around, back hunched, crying in the gloom. I can breathe and understand sometimes things are beyond your control but - pretty much always - it's not the worst it can be.

The things that have helped me to do that have been having an amazing therapist - who I saw for only a few months last year - mindfulness and the support of my friends. Sometimes I think that it's amazing I managed to stop pushing people away. More on that to follow. 

In any case (ha!) I hope to continue like this, this me that can lower her heart rate when stressful things happen. 

Love and hope from a person who is still breathing. 

Miss D x 

Coping: Joy Lists

Hello my friends,

The sun is shining here and it's a beautiful day. I wanted to share with you something that I find helps me when I'm not as smiley and when things are more difficult. I make lists of all the things that make me happy. Sometimes I write them down, sometimes I don't. What I have learnt through yoga is to think about the mind/body connection - how doing something with your body can have a positive impact on your brain. So now, when I'm down - and if I remember, I am only human - I try and do one of the things from my lists.

Currently, here are some of my joyous things:

• Feeling the sunshine on your back as summer begins 
• Laughing
• Singing to Banarama with my friend as we drive around 
• Drinking Tea 
• Falling out of yoga poses and getting back into them 
• NPR All Songs Considered Podcasts 
• Beer 
• Reading (specifically 'The Bean Trees' by Barbara Kingsolver) 
• Looking at pictures  

Make your own list. Little things help.

Peace, happiness and smiles

Miss D 

The Best Advice I Can Give You

I was talking to someone a couple of days ago about mental health and anxiety. He was struggling with their current situation, which wasn't at all unhappy. The only thing I could say to him was this:

IT'S OK NOT TO BE OK

More than that, for the majority of the time it's just how we (those millions of people who live with mental health issues) are. The pressure to be happy in the life that you have - when nothing is technically wrong - can be crushing. 

I lived with the question for more than a decade: "Why aren't I just happy?" I'd cry over it frequently, feeling like a failure because everything I had in live wasn't enough for me; feeling ungrateful because I had so much; feeling horribly confused because at times I could be so very happy, then the emptiness would come. As much as I wish I known my diagnosis and understood my symptoms sooner I suppose it's a part of me that made me stronger. I did fight through it. I still got up every day. I had an incredible job and incredible friends. In a way that almost made things harder: my symptoms weren't severe enough to really be noticed. 

I suppose it might possible to fight your own way through depression alone, without acknowledgement or support, but it's a hell of a lot better not to. 

It's ok to not be ok. Most of us aren't. 

The Lives of Others

Speak the truth, even if your voice shakes.

The truth is a powerful thing.

The thing I have found most startling since I started actually talking about my own mental health is how it almost always leads to somebody telling me something similar, or something worse, about a relative or a friend or themselves. Again and again we all keep it quiet, don't mention it until we are pushed.

And it's not in the way that you might if you were talking about a more physical illness - like cancer. I mean sure you might wait until your comfortable to tell someone about that kind of a struggle. But there is a precedent for it - books, films, TV shows and by enlarge you would only expect a swelling of (perhaps hard to deal with in itself) sympathy.

There is still a huge disparity when it comes to mental health issues. Instead of waiting for something positive or empathetic you wait to be judged. You wait for people to look at you differently, or try and skirt over it politely. I'm lucky in that very often this hasn't been the case for me - it's happened only a few times. Instead I've found people sharing their own stories. I remember telling one of my oldest friends about it after she had been through an episode of her own and she was stunned. 'Everybody hides stuff' was what she said eventually. Of course we do. Why? Because your brain, after all feels, like your responsibility. Perhaps the only responsibility that will make a difference is the ability to tell the truth about it.

Entitlement

I was walking down the street with my friend today and she mentioned that she liked my blog. I instantly thought she meant my music blog - the one I've been writing for over four years. She starting talking about a post I had written and I realised she meant dullshine. Of course that prompted me to think about it - I was so passionate when I started out so why am I not writing here anymore? I answer is pretty simple: the past few months have been some of the happiest I have ever had. My job was made permanent, my living situation is awesome, I've been doing lots of yoga and letting go of the judgements I make one my body. I've also fallen in love for probably the first time ever. You see? I haven't felt entitled to write about depression, because I'm not in a depression.

Still, I couldn't stop thinking about my friend who said the post she read was interesting. And then I thought if you have never felt that way, how important it is for you to understand it. Essentially entitlement is bullshit. It's a disease so often swept away and because of that there can never be enough people writing about it. As for me, it lingered in me for at least two decades and I know, with a change of the wind, it could come back. I'll keep writing. For me and for you and anyone who wants to read it.

I wish you peace and compassion.

Little Miss Dullshine xxx

Dating and Depression

If there is one thing that I know it's this - dating and depression don't go. First of all, when you are in the midst of low time, it feels like nothing is hopeful. The thought of meeting a random person and chatting about yourself is inconceivable. Secondly, when you are in a better place it's just the thing to tip you up or down. Somehow I've found myself still doing it.

It used to be the 'thing' that I didn't have - a boyfriend who loved me and would make everything meaningful. I waited for a glance across the room that would change my life, the moment that you see in the movies. I'm old enough now to know that's pretty unlikely - more importantly I know fixating on someone else is never going to solve anything. You can only have someone in your life if they are enhancing what you already have - for me that's a great job, amazing friends and family, real loves (books, music, travel) and a sense of adventure.

I'm dating and yes it can be fun - but sometimes I walk away thinking 'Is this what love feels like?'. A great emptiness swells in my belly.

But still, I continue.

How it feels: An Average Day

I wrote this when I was very low. I hope it might help to explain how depression feels, at least to me. 

I sat by the pond today. I say pond where others might say lake; to me the pool of grey water, dappled with long grasses and framed by ragged green, only had the stature of a pond. Ducks traversed in the water, sending out smooth circles of movement. Their slick feathers were dark grey, tinged with black tips. In the air there was ripples of chatter. Stones poked up through the pond, although in parts there was only water. I imagined putting my hand down into the murky water, diving down into the thick mud - stones and weeds underneath. On the surface it reflected a fiercely blue sky, no clouds to break up the colour.

A free day. I had nothing to do. I sat by the pond alone, without direction. A pretty day; the sun warm on my ankles, a fresh breeze colouring my cheeks. Emptiness rattled around inside me, a pinball bouncing off my sides. I thought about all the things I could be doing, better things, more normal things, things that would make me whole. I thought about reading again, filling myself up with something. I thought about writing again, pouring myself out. I only sat. I watched a small, scruffy duck turn on its side, flipping its head beneath the water. I looked up at the sky. I looked at the time. I dug my fingers into the grass beneath me. I think, I think, I thought, I am, I am not, I think, I think, I thought, I wish I was, I wasn’t, I can, I can’t, I think, I think, I thought, I try, I’m trying. I think, I think, I thought, I feel hopeless - I hope. There is nothing here.  I am doing nothing. I am less than nothing, a negative force. It pulls inward, it tugs at me and I struggle.

This is it: the way I treat myself. Treat. It happens all the time now and I’m not sure why, or I am, or I could be, or I’m not. It’s just how I am. How I have always been.

I let that nothingness coil carefully around me. I block myself in, thought on top of thought balanced like heavy bricks. I don’t have the energy to push them.  

Today I sat by the pond and watched the ducks. How about you?

How to cope: Talk About It

Happy New Year! It's the first of January and I feel positive. Not because I want to write off last year, it was challenging and important. I'm also old enough to know that 'fresh starts' are a false promise. You have to acknowledge the past and make peace with mistakes. Last year it was the biggest hurdle for me. I feel like I am almost there. 

Mostly I feel positive because I am with my lovely friends and I just had an inadvertent conversation about depression. Talking is so important and cathartic, I spent years storing it all up and I know now that is the worst thing to do. Even if you think they don't understand the illness don't be afraid to confide in someone. It's the biggest and most important release.