New is always around the corner

If new is always on the horizon, always just around the corner, why do so many of us still wait until January to start fresh? To join a gym. Change jobs. End a relationship. It's as if we believe January 1st is some sort of magical day when anything can happen. And that can only be good. As long as we don't wait 365/6 days if things don't work out.

I don't have any resolutions today. My resolutions started in July last year. Last year. Already my mental health problems are so last year.

They included the usual stuff - think about my health, plan what I really want to do with my career and spend more time with the people I love. But these are huge plans. They're too big. They need to be broken down into smaller goals.

I spent time looking at how I spend my work days and thinking properly about what makes me tick. And not just the tasks I enjoy and can do with ease but also the things that stretch me, in a good way. I began to change who I work with. One of the perks of being self employed is the ability to choose who I work with. For me that had to be people I respected and that were fun to be around. If I can't laugh at work there's no point me being there.

At home I asked myself a simple question "what will happen if I don't do this?" If the ironing isn't done will the family fall apart? I can't claim to have mastered this yet. On my Christmas list I asked for Marie Kondo's book - the life-changing magic of tidying up - even reading the first chapter left me in a better place. Small steps. Positive movement.

And spending time with the people I love? This is the toughest one. Because that group of people has to include me. I can give plenty to friends and family often to the point where I end up neglecting my own well being. Making others happy but not myself. I have a long way to go. I'm really hoping my counsellor can go the distance because I'm no sprinter.

My journey began in the summer of 2015. It continues today, on this first day of 2016. Without resolutions. However like a new notebook it holds the promise of a fresh start. A crisp blank page and a brand new pen.

If you've made resolutions, good luck with them but if they don't work out, make new ones. Every day, every hour, every minute or second is a moment in which we can make a change. A chance to make our lives better. To make ourselves happier. To love ourselves. Maybe love isn't all we need but life's much easier if we have it.

Small victories.

I've been off work for a few weeks. During that time I tried not to work at all. Emphasis on tried. I mostly succeeded.

Now I'm back I'm setting achievable goals each day rather than risk being blindsided by the enormity of some of the projects I'm responsible for.

Today I ticked one off. Actually make that two.

Small victories.

And it feels good.

Finding the words.

I have so much I want to say but it's all a bit overwhelming. If I start I'm scared I won't stop. That I'll open the floodgates/ Pandora's Box/ some other over used metaphor. Add to that the fact that I seem to be losing my words. The tools that keep me going. I hope someone is getting a kick out of this because there's not much enjoyment in it for me.

For the next 10 days I'm going to write down all the things I think of that fuck up my head and then share them with my counsellor when we meet.

I can't even think of an interesting way to finish this post. So I'll leave it there. And go to bed.

Larkin around

This Be The Verse has played over and over inside my head for the past few weeks. Ever since my counselling began in fact. Not because I'm looking for someone to blame for how I feel (what would be the point in that) but because I recognise that family traits and patterns can become ingrained in our psyche. Some times these characteristics are positive, other times destructive. Many of us have no doubt experienced that flinch inducing comment "You're just like your Mum/Dad" - especially when directed at us in a less than flattering context.

There may be some truth in Larkin's poem, written the year I was born, however that doesn't have to mean my future is set in stone. It's time to break the cycle. After all I've already had a kid; for her sake I need to make a change.

Perfection is the enemy of happiness. And control is the armour of the unhappy.

The best thing about real friends is they don't shy away from saying what they think, or from making light of a difficult situation. Such as "Well at least your posts on Facebook are a good way to get plenty of likes". If you're not one of my best friends, don't even think about saying this to me. My posts are not a cry for sympathy. Sometimes they are a whimper for help. But I don't need you to feel sorry for me. Honestly all I hope is that anyone who hasn't suffered with depression gains a little understanding of how it can affect people. And for anyone that has suffered to know you're not alone.

After feeling that I was making some progress over the past few months I had a minor set back this weekend. Triggered I'm sure by my first proper counselling session.

Each time I meet with a mental health professional I have to complete a questionnaire which determines the possible severity of my depression. The scale works from green, through blue, yellow, orange and red; the aim is to be in the green zone. I'm currently top red. Like many people my counsellor observed that my score wasn't reflected in the way I come across. That my exterior projects a happy, confident person. I've worn this mask for a long time and it fits so well that it's starting to shock me when I reveal what's beneath. In his words, "You really are a work in progress".

I need a lot of help but I still feel I'm wasting people's time. That I should just snap out of it. That there are so many people in the world who need medical attention more than I do. I have all my limbs. I can work. I have a family that loves me (in the main). I'm physically fit.

However mentally I'm broken.

Facing the reasons why I feel like I do is not easy. Actually, it's more about having to say them out loud to someone else. There's nowhere to hide.  My counselling session was emotionally exhausting. I had to admit to things that are hurtful, that make me vulnerable and cause me to feel ashamed. I felt embarrassed and upset. And that's why I need to do this because a lack of confidence can be a killer. Literally (that's for you PW...).

The good news is I like my new counsellor. He's easy to talk to. He has a sense of humour. That's important. My life is predicated on being able to see the funny side of something. I don't want to lose this. Although I do need to learn when and where to wear my clown mask.

The most used words in my 90 minutes of self reflection were control, perfection and worth.

For those of you walking your own black dog you might be able to associate with these. Each one I use in a negative way.

Control because if things go wrong I only have myself to blame rather than being let down by other people.

Perfection is something I strive for in everything, and a part of my approach to life that I really need to change.

And worth - this is the root cause of my problem. It stems back to my childhood when my Dad left. Left and rarely showed any interest in me for the next 40 years. One of two people in the world I thought I could rely on. As a parent I can't imagine walking away from my child but we all know life is multiple shades of grey, not black and white. My self worth is almost non existent. After all if I'm not loveable to someone who should feel it unconditionally, why should anyone else love me, or even like me?

It's amazing I have any friends really. But I do. You know who you are and I'm so grateful to you for sticking around.

Bear with me. I'm working hard to make it worth your while.

Runnin' (lose it all)

Before I went to see my GP in July I was running 3-4 times a week. I'd completed couch to 5k and had registered for my first race covering this distance. He thought this was very positive, reminding me of the mental benefits associated with exercise as well as the physical.

Three months have passed since then and I've exercised once. Thought about it lots but indecision, tiredness and a general lack of interest have pinned me to the floor, sofa or bed. 

Like a subliminal message I can't get the song Runnin' (lose it all) out of my head. An earworm with a hidden message? Possibly. I decided to take notice and tonight ventured to the gym to start C25K again. It felt ok. Not as enjoyable as before but ok. I didn't lose it all. But I did manage to lose some of it for about 30 minutes.

I'll try again later in the week. That's as much as I can commit to at the moment.

A constant game of keepy uppy

I've had two exhausting but brilliant days running events for clients in Birmingham and London. Both teams are a joy to work with and they make me feel like I belong. The investment required to make an event successful is huge, but the rewards are worth it. I feel a natural high when an event goes well. A sense of euphoria. It's joyous. But maintaining the positive emotions can be like trying to play a constant game of keepy uppy.

I promised someone tonight that I'd concentrate on the things that went well. She knows I'm going to struggle not to crash and burn. I did well this week. I'll try to remember that.