1066 All Stars

I made a commitment to myself that my blogs would be honest. I didn’t really feel like writing this as there is nothing positive to say and yet it feels important to me to document this moment in time. This is how I feel.

I have an overwhelming sense of sadness.

Sadness is a strange emotion that I suspect not everyone understands. If you tell someone you are sad they will likely ask ’what’s up?’ or take it as a personal crusade to ‘cheer you up’. Others may simply write you off as grumpy or miserable, as if a choice has been made to deliberately not enjoy life.

But sadness is one of the core emotions. We are allowed to feel it, dare I say we are supposed to feel it. But persistent sadness is a different issue. For that is the path that leads to depression.

There have been a couple of specific incidents that have caused me anxiety in the last week. A constant cycle of rumination and self-recrimination have left me feeling exhausted. Life of course goes on and yet I find that I want to hide away, tuck myself up in bed and wait for the world to pass by, hoping nobody notices. If my life were a videogame, I want someone else to take the controller, just for a time, until this level has passed.

I am conscious that these thoughts are unhealthy and undoubtedly I have the tools to change them. And yet I find myself locked in a spiral, feeling helpless as the crushing weight of the world bears down on me. I have always been aware that therapy was not the end, that the black dog would always be chasing me. For now, it seems I am unable to outrun him.

I am tired. Not in the ‘why don’t you get an early night’ sense. I am tired of trying, I am tired of resisting. I am tired of the noise. I am tired of the constant sense of unfulfilled duty. I am tired of the demands, I am tired of the decisions. I am tired of the guilt, shame and self-recrimination. I am tired of feeling tired.

This is not a tiredness that finds relief under the covers. This is a tiredness of thought. I am pedalling the cycle of rumination, well aware that only I can make the decision to stop.

But it is hard. And it makes me sad. And I am tired of feeling sad.

Current weight – 11st 4lbs

* A very disappointing weigh in. Despite eating healthily and continuing to exercise, my weight has increased.

* I have in my mind a series of ‘acceptable’ weights. 11st 3lbs is the maximum as this is the weight I reached many years ago. 11st 2lbs is desirable as it is below my previous best. 11st (or lower) remains the long term target.

* It is again noticeable how being just 2lbs above a desirable weight is spun in my mind not as an inconvenience but as a disaster. It is black and white, catastrophic thinking, two thinking errors that I continue to repeat.

* The weigh in comes towards the end of a period of high anxiety, all self-induced. Having wrapped myself up in a blanket of self-doubt and judgement, I finally feel able to shrug it off but am left with the residual feelings.

Chief amongst them is a sense of shame. Why did I become so anxious? Why am I not better than this? Why have I still not conquered these demons? I do not purport to be an expert and yet I regularly dispense my advice to others as if I have solved my mental health issues when the truth is that they are ever present, awaiting their opportunity to bubble to the surface. I feel like a fraud. Who am I to lecture someone else on how to live their life when I haven’t a clue how to run my own?

* They key of course is not to judge. I have not failed because this was never a test. It is simply life, sometimes the challenges are overcome easily, sometimes they are more testing. I accept that I am a flawed human being, on a journey of continual self-improvement. The route is not pre-ordained and there are many deviations along the way. But the point is to keep going.

* With one anxiety overcome another one looms. Christmas is fast approaching, a time of family, presents, laughter and joy. And yet I dread it. I have a tangible sense of needing to perform, that I am expected to be happy. This creates a pressure that in turn causes me to withdraw, my mood becoming lower whilst the festivities reach higher. I want to enjoy it but the whole sense of occasion generates an overwhelming sense of anxiety.

I do not have a solution and will not pithily attempt to address it in a soundbite. That I want to conquer it is, for now, sufficient.

It is incredible how easily the mask slips back on.

Two scenarios presented themselves over the last few days, both stemming from the same incident. As ever, the specifics of the cause are irrelevant, it is my reaction to it that I want to explore.

A situation has been bubbling away, the details changing and developing daily. With a deadline approaching where action was required, I remained clam, safe in the knowledge that we had time to resolve all issues. Then, at 5pm on Friday afternoon, I decide to try and resolve it, suddenly panicked that things would not resolve themselves in time. Despite discussing the issue with others, I was overwhelmed most of Friday night and into Saturday, repeatedly seeking time to ruminate as if I could simply think the problem away. By Sunday, exhausted and fed up, I finally put the issue to bed before coming back to work on Monday with the intention to resolve.

But Monday brought its own issues.

It remains unresolved, the deadline for affirmative action looming large, but progress has been made. Still, my mood is suppressed, I am wracked with tension that I can feel creeping up to my skull, the looming headache I can feel coming already affecting my plans for the evening.

And through it all, I present an exterior of calm and control to all but a select few. No one can know how wracked I am by doubt. No one can know the anxiety of every decision, the blame, the judgement of self, the guilt. The mask slips on. The illusion is maintained.

To the world I say, ‘I am in control.’

Inside, I am screaming, ‘help me.’

So what is going on? The underlying anxiety stems from fear and loss of control. I found myself in a position where I felt it my duty alone to resolve to the satisfaction of all. I was not ultimately responsible and yet was prepared to accept any and all blame should something go wrong. Added to this was my decision to attempt to resolve on Friday afternoon. With the weekend uppn me, there was no option but for the issue to lie unresolved for two days, festering in my mind, negative layer upon negative layer.

I recognised these negative, repetitive thoughts for what they were, even vocalised them to others. At one point I attempted to put them in perspective by reminding myself that in two days, it would be over, that either the issue would be resolved or my worst fears realised but either way it would be done. And yet I could not stop them. They dominated my weekend, affecting my mood.

At times like these, I want everyone to know about my anxiety issues. I want people to know the inner fragility so that I do not have to pretend, so that I can cede control. Instead, I feel an obligation to take control, to project an image of calm resolution. It is what is expected of me. It seems like what we are supposed to do. And I want to as well. I enjoy responsibility, I enjoy feeling valued. But an inner conflict tells me I'm not good enough, that others cope better. And then comes the doubt, the judgement, the self loathing, as well as disappointment that still, two years on from therarpy, I have failed to conquer these issues. Layer upon layer upon layer of negativity.

Underneath it all is a river of duty that flows through me. There is a sense that if I do something wrong, I will be told off. If that sounds childish, it perhaps goes some way to demonstrating how deep rooted this issue is, clearly something formed in childhood and carried forward to adult life.

I don't know how to fix this negative thought cycle. But I want to, and that's a start.

I was intrigued by the thought that I hadn't written a blog in a couple of weeks and wondered why.

When I stop to think about it, I generally write blogs for two primary purposes. Number one, where I have a specific mental health point I want to address, such as the importance of change or addressing stigma. Number two, when I am reflecting on a period of low mood.

But rarely do I blog simply about being happy. Well I am happy, so I'm going to blog about it.

So why am I happy? There is no single reason. I have lost over a stone in weight in the last year and, perhaps more importantly, managed to maintain my weight. I have found an honest to goodness hobby that I enjoy, writing weekly retrogaming articles. These are undouubtedly contributing factors.

But life continues to have its stresses. Marriage, children, owning a home, building a career, these things bring joy but they also bring challenges. It is only natural every now and then to stop and wonder if you shouldn't have turned left instead of right.

But there also comes a point when you simply have to accept. It is no good buying an apple and then complaining that it doesn't taste like an orange. This is the life I chose for myself. I finally feel ready to start living it. 

In a sense I feel I have begun to embrace who I am. Perhaps I am not as funny as I used to be. Perhaps I'm not so impulsive. Perhaps I have become, dare I say it, rather boring. So be it. One thing I am sure of is that I have also become a lot nicer. I rather prefer the new me to the old. My experience of depression and anxiety has helped to make me the person I am today. But they do not define me.

Part of a sustainable recovery is having those around you that help to foster a positive environment. During therapy, we would often discuss the importance of a strong support group but deep down, I always felt that this was a path I was walking alone. I have never had a wide circle of friends, preferring to seek out and build one-on-one relationships with specific individuals. And so I convinced myself that I did not have a network I could rely on. I was wrong.

I have the support of my wife. I have the support of my children, whether they are conscious of it or not. I have the support of both sides of the family. I have a close circle of friends, some old and some new.

Sometimes support comes in the shape of a deep and meaningful. Sometimes it is being there to pick you up and help you to try again. Sometimes it is about making you laugh even when it is the last thing you feel like doing. Sometimes it is about letting you cry. And sometimes it's just about hanging out and watching Star Wars.

I am grateful for each and every person that has chosen to be part of my life.  Some of you I have known forever. Others only for a short time. But it doesn't matter. It is not how often we have made the journey but what we do when we get there.

Thanks for coming along for the ride.

We’ve all heard them haven’t we?

Chin up. Pull your socks up. Look on the bright side. Think positive. Think how lucky you are.

After all, depression and anxiety aren’t real illnesses, are they? It’s all in your head.

And the thing is…that’s true. In a manner of speaking.

But let’s take a step back. For most of my life, I had no idea what depression and anxiety were. Sure, I had moments when I felt down and I would get stressed out about things but didn’t everyone?

After a while, being grumpy and miserable became the norm. It was simply who I was, a role that I eagerly fulfilled. But I started to recognise that something was wrong when I lost interest in activities that I previously loved, the tipping point a drive home from work, the wife reminding me of a Liverpool match on the tv later that evening. I realised that I didn’t care about it, that I would rather just sit and stare at the wall. That was when I first sought help.

Being prescribed anti-depressants was a validation of sorts. I had a problem, serious enough that medication was required. And whilst they helped to stabilise the worst of my mood swings (at least once I found the right medication for me), it did not address the underlying issues.

Depression became almost a badge of honour. Why don’t you come out tonight? I’m depressed! Why don’t you try to lose some weight? I’m depressed! Why not look for another job? Depressed, depressed, depressed!

But things became worse. In addition to low mood, I found that I was constantly stressed. Every decision was agonising. I couldn’t see a way out, I felt like a hamster stuck on the wheel. And so I carried on the routine.

Work, home, food, sleep.

Then the routine slowly began to change. Work, more work, home, food, sleep.

Then work, more work, home, more work, sleep.

And in between those non-work moments, I was thinking about work, churning over in my mind a conversation, an e-mail exchange, my ever expanding to-do list, that enormous oh-my-God-if-they-ever-find-out mistake that I was sure I had committed.

As my performance deteriorated, I found the courage to speak out and obtained a referral to a psychiatrist. He confirmed that I was suffering from depression and anxiety. But good news! The prognosis was good, I could get better.

Only I didn’t want to.

I had convinced myself that I was fundamentally flawed. Didn’t this man understand? I had depression! This wasn’t something I could stop having, it was a fundamental part of my being. I was broken, there was a hole right through the middle of me where happiness was supposed to live.

It was in therapy that I came to truly understand my illness. Depression and anxiety were not fixed states. My thoughts and my actions, accumulating throughout my life, had led me to this point. My anxiety and depression were mental states, brought on by a crippling lack of self-confidence, negative automatic thoughts, life-long patterns of behaviour and avoidance.

I resisted at first, unable to accept that my illness could be overcome. I wanted to be ill because then I didn’t have to face up to the reality of life. I wanted to wallow, I wanted the sympathy, I wanted the excuse to not have to truly exist.

Eventually, begrudgingly, I came to understand and accept. In a sense, I had made myself ill which meant in turn that it was up to me to make myself better.

It turns out that depression and anxiety had all been in my head. But that’s what made it so frightening.

It has been a difficult road. Understanding my illness allowed me to change. I began to shed the masks that I wore to hide my feelings, began to express myself, challenged the negative thoughts, learnt to live in the moment, rather than ruminating on the past or procrastinating on the future. It is an ongoing journey but I feel liberated from the prison of my own mind.

It can be difficult to know what to say to a loved one who is suffering. How can you possibly help when they are not ready to help themselves? But you don’t have to fix, you don’t have to mend, you don’t even really need to understand. Just be there to listen.

And to those suffering, locked in the cycle of regret and procrastination, my message is simply this;

You can change.

Last weight - 11st 4lbs

Current weight - 11st 5lbs

Comments

* Well, that's a bit of a disappointment.

My heaviest weight in more than 6 months, coming in the week when I have introduced additional exercise. The temptation is to feel dispirited, perhaps to throw in the towel and wonder why I bother.

Instead, let's look at the facts. My weekend eating was not good, indulging in crisps and carby dinners, which explained the 11st 4lbs check in. My diet so far this week has been good and I have added to my lunchtime walk with 40 minutes on the exercise bike before work. This is undoubtedly a Good Thing.

So why the increase? Muscle mass? Maybe, although two days of cycling is surely not enough to add a pound or two of muscle.

Bottom line is that I don't know but it does hint at what may be to come. As I continue to shed flab, this will hopefully tone into muscle, which will mean that my weight will inevitably plateau. As such, I need to accept that the scales will not be the best measure of 'success' or 'failure' of this plan (as if I need to apply such labels). Instead it is the more intangible sense of how I feel that it important, both in the literal sense (ie how my clothes fit) and the mental sense (ie overall wellbeing).

For now, I continue to weigh in as a measurement but will work on redefining it as simply that.

* Morning exercise is a strange beast. I thought I would find it hard to drag myself out of bed but have had surprisingly few issues so far. In fact, I find myself absolutely buzzing by the time I get to work, much to the annoyance of my colleagues I don't doubt.

Still, it is a nice feeling to have that energy boost in the morning.

Yesterday's weight - 11st 2lbs

Today's weight - 11st 3lbs

Food Log

Breakfast - Toasted oat cereal, tea, nibble of bread stick

Lunch - Pork and stuffing roll, apple

Dinner - Butter chicken with salad

Dessert - Chocolate ice cream lolly

Snack - 2x cereal biscuits, brunch bar, 1.5x slice of pork, paracetamol, hot chocolate with a side order of guilt

Exercise - 1 hour

Yesterday's weight - 11st 3lbs

Today's weight - 11st 2lbs

Food Log

Breakfast - Toasted oat cereal, tea

Lunch - Pork and stuffing roll, pork pie, apple

Dinner - Butter chicken with rice

Dessert - cookie and tea

Snack - plum, 2x yoghurt biscuits, 4x cocktail sausages, cheese string, 2x cereal biscuits

Exercise - 1 hour 20 mins

Yesterday's weight - 11st 3lbs

Today's weight - 11st 3lbs

Food Log

Breakfast - Toasted oat cereal, tea

Lunch - Butter chicken with rice

Dinner - Pork roast with veg (no potatoes)

Dessert - cookie and tea

Snack - crisps, 12x grapes, 2x yoghurt biscuits, apple

Exercise - 1 hour

Yesterday's weight - 11st 4lbs

Today's weight - 11st 3lbs

Food Log

Breakfast - Toasted oat cereal, tea

Lunch - Butter chicken with rice

Dinner - Beef burger (no bun) with salad

Dessert - cookie and tea

Snack - 2x cereal biscuits, banana, 2x yoghurt biscuits, apple, 1x cocktail sausage

Exercise - 1.5 hours