Tag Archives: London Buddhist Centre

Social Inclusion and the Power of Decent Bubble Bath

The isolation of battling depression is a major hindrance to recovery, loneliness and depression are best mates.

When I feel myself tumbling into a depressive phase the last thing I do is call my friends or family about it. Almost subconsciously I nestle in and I go full throttle speeding into hibernation mode. I stop making plans and confine myself to the duvet tent. I order greasy takeaways and play endless games on my phone, I watch an entire season of Orange is the New Black on every hermits Holy Grail – Netflix. I then trawl through Facebook to make sure no one is having too much fun without me (but of course, they are.) This in turn triggers loads more negative thinking, leading to another sizzling hot American (pizza) and a serious marathon session of ‘World Chef’ on my new best friend of an iPhone. I become ensconced in an unhealthy and insular grease laden bubble of misery.

I spent much of the last two weeks hibernating and this is after a full recovery from ‘The Episode’ aka my emotional breakdown last year. Which proves that this illness can rear it’s grim head at any point. Even though I am fully aware that cutting myself off is the worst thing I can possibly do, the feeling that I have nothing to add to any conversation and physically don’t have the energy to put my eyeliner on  straight in order to meet people in a social setting where normal humans dwell, is far stronger.

I’m telling you all of this because I can now feel myself coming out of this little bleak place, and the two key reasons?

  1. Self Care
  2. Social Inclusion

Basic self care goes out of the window when you’re depressed. You might start smoking because the nicotine rush takes you momentarily out of the hole. You might not shave your legs for weeks (when you’re a person who normally does.) You’ve run out of all the fucks to give about body moisturiser, but worst of all, you beat yourself up about all of this until your innards are black and blue and you feel all of the guilts. Sorry to be a cliche, but it’s just a ma-hoo-sive vicious circle. BUT, you can find your way out. This week I did it by:

  1. Running myself a hot deep bubble bath with the expensive shit I got for Christmas that I’ve been saving for a ‘special occasion.’
  2. Painting my nails
  3. Going to the London Buddhist Centre for my favourite yoga and meditation classes.

What I found was (and I always knew this really, I just chose to forget it) that small positive steps lead to many more. Good activity breeds good activity, just like bad breeds bad. Before long I started feeling human again and I got my confident walk back. (Instead of looking like Tigger.)

Social inclusion is a term I’ve only recently started using. I’ve often felt better when I’ve had a purpose and when I’ve mixed with people for that purpose (aka work) but I didn’t realise it was ‘a thing.’ Now I know that it is THE most crucial part of a persons recovery from depression. To feel like you are part of something and that you are needed boosts your self worth, which is why it’s a tricky thing to be off work on sick leave. It might feel like a relief at first and although my sick leave was indispensable in giving me the space to see clearly and have a new direction I also felt isolated and ashamed. That’s why getting involved in ‘stuff’ and keeping busy to me is so important. Every Friday I can be found digging and weeding and laughing at dogs in Battersea Park. I am a Volunteer Garden Assistant and I support other people living with mental ill-health for the brilliant charity – Thrive. By doing this I have developed confidence in the fact that I am a valued member of society and now I’m very much back on the job hunt AND I’ve applied to go back to Uni. I honestly believe that if I hadn’t started volunteering it would have taken me an awful lot longer to get where I am now, or even to develop the confidence to work out what I want to do next with my life.

If you notice a friend has gone off the radar, they may be on holiday, or having too much fun with their new boyfriend. But maybe, just maybe, they’re suffocating under a duvet tent and getting a repetitive strain industry from Candy Crush. Give them a text, eh? (Because they probably won’t answer the phone.)

Annie x

 

 

Surviving a Nervous Breakdown

Having a nervous breakdown feels like your mind has literally broken down like a car. No matter how hard you push it, it won’t go any further. It is the body’s way of saying STOP! That’s why it is not unusual for someone to feel like giving up altogether. When this happens, continuing with daily life is overwhelming. The world outside of your head feels like a gargantuan unslayable beast, and it’s going to eat you all up. You are a tiny grain of sand worth dusting away.

So you have two options, you can end it or you can keep going.

I chose to keep going, but apart from sleeping and eating there wasn’t much I wanted to do. Being signed off from work was a necessity but it also lead to feelings of isolation. I felt like I had just dropped out of life, and that everybody knew and would be talking about it. I’ve always been an energetic and motivated person, so to feel broken like this was tricky. I was scared to bump into work friends in the street (which I did on one occasion) and I was worried about going out in case people saw me having fun. Being able bodied and ill in the mind is complicated.

I couldn’t go to work, but I also knew I couldn’t stay in bed. I had to do something. So, I took tiny little steps, and each step made me feel better and better and better. I took care of myself and I followed my nose, there wasn’t much more to it.

Doing these things helped me out of my hole, and I always come back to them when I feel myself slipping.

Step 1: I brushed my teeth and my hair. The simplest bit of self care imaginable, that can work wonders when you’ve been wallowing under your duvet tent for too long.

Step 2: I read ‘Mental Health’ by Yrsa Daley Ward

If you did not get up for work today
If it has been afternoon for hours
And the silence is keeping you awake.
If you only remember how to draw your breath
in and out like waves of thick tar cooling
If you are wishing it later,
pulling the sun down with your prayers, leave the damn bed.
Wash the damn walls. Crack open a window even in the rain, even in the snow.
Listen to the church bells outside.
Know that however many times they chime is half the number of changes you have to make.
Stop trying to die. Serve your time here, do your time.
Clean out the fridge.
Throw away the soya milk. Soya milk is made from children’s tears. Put flowers on the table. Stand them in a measuring jug. Chop raw vegetables if you have them.
Know that if you are hungry for something but you cant think what then you are more often than not only love thirsty, only bored.
When the blood in your body is weary to flow. When your bones are heavy and hollow
if you have made it past thirty celebrate, and if you haven’t yet, rejoice. Know that there is a time on its way when the dirt settles and the patterns form a picture.

Step 3: I listened to this song:

Step 4: I cut pictures and words out of magazines that made me feel something good in my bones, then I stuck them all onto a big piece of paper and hung it on the wall next to my bed. Most of the pictures were of palm trees and bears.

Step 5: I got lost in Oxleas Woods for the day. I used to go there when I was little with my family, I needed to reconnect with a more natural, happier and simpler time.

Step 6: I went to the London Buddhist Centre and I meditated with a room full of friendly strangers. It was beautiful to be anonymous, and to not have to talk.

Step 7: I had a hot bath over flowing with bubbles, and I turned out the lights.

Step 8: I went swimming in London Fields Lido, the water is warm and the sun shines on you as you swim. It’s even nice if it’s raining because steam rises and you feel like you’re in an Icelandic hot pool (kind of.) Anyway, It’s a small piece of paradise in Hackney.

Step 9: I listened to these guys talking about elves in the woods which helped me switch off and sleep at night.

Step 10: I created this blog and I wrote. Probably the most important thing I did was to start writing it all down. There isn’t a cure for anxiety or depression, but there are ways of dealing with it – and this remains the most liberating antidote for me.

Annie x