It probably hasn’t escaped your notice that, in the UK, this week is Mental Health Awareness Week. I think it’s a great time of year and ever more topical as we open our hearts and minds to recognise that life is not always that easy.
I thought a good way to celebrate the week was to give you one post every day in a different area of mental health and how it has affected my life. (Yes, I know it’s Tuesday, but better later than never…)
Today, I wanted to start by going through my memory and focusing on those areas which are particularly poignant in terms of mental health. I’ve been lucky in the sense that I’ve never had any mental health episodes which have severely affected my life – however bad they might have been. But, I have struggled – as we all have. And, happily, I have discovered practices that help me get out the other side when things crop back up.
In my early childhood, gaining mental strength was not something that was heavily focused upon. I remember nights feeling highly distressed as my parents would fight and, generally, growing up – with all the new things and exams – was not the best time of my life. As I got older, I knew that inside I was growing angry with the constant arguments at home and I felt like whenever I talked to anyone about anything that I had experienced, they didn’t understand. Everyone’s parents fought, right? But I felt as though the fighting had left a deep mark on who I was.
When I moved out of home, I had the stress of leaving. I cried for weeks and, in that moment, I realised how dependent I had been on my family. (Little did I know how much I craved and enjoyed the independence.)
Being at University brought an added challenge into my life in the fact that it was hard. And, not only was it hard, but there was a lot of work. And you owed the government before you even started. And there were expensive course books to source. And you had to read every day. And you had to secondary read. And you had to do your class prep. And you had to try and make friends. And you had to drink. And you had to keep on top of your fitness and body.
University was always plugged to me as a dream – and I really had the best time of my life. But what was also plugged was that I would probably meet my husband. My focus shifted onto comparing myself with others. Was I as fun as them? How did people drink and stay slim? Could I complete my course and find love?
Though they had always been niggling in the background, at university was where my body issues really began to show. In the first semester, I gained 1 stone and for the rest of my 4 years (!!) at uni, I became more and more preoccupied with my weight. I would starve myself. I would diet. I would exercise obsessively. I brought WeightWatchers into my life. But no matter how hard I tried, I was never happy with my body.
Almost every day, I would feel unhappy with my weight and began to wear less tight-fitting clothes and often shrouded myself in a jumper. I was frustrated with my body. It never went the way I wanted it to. I got frustrated with my mind, because it never accepted me the way I was.
A big change came as I entered the church and became a Christian. I realised that life was bigger than the fears I had about gaining weight. Church was healing, but soon the old fears began to creep back in.
When I left university, I went to London where I lived with a lot of anxiety dating someone properly for the first time. By the end, I was unhappy and when things finished my mind became wild with opportunity. Suddenly, being single again felt exciting and I didn’t know how to contain it. I had a million ideas pop into my head and I found riding out my job for at least 1 year annoying. I felt as though I had done everything that was required of me: I went to uni and I had passed and now I had a real job. But I wanted to leave.
I felt trapped but also scared because leaving suddenly felt really big. I had no big goal to reach towards and I questioned my purpose more heavily than ever. In a sense, I had just crash landed into a job that I was good at, enjoyed and was well paid. And yet I knew it wasn’t my future. Neither was getting a mortgage. I needed to get out.
But one good thing that happened was, whilst focusing all that mental energy outside of my body, my relationship with food got better. I crowded out my days with yoga, running, meeting friends and writing. I calmed my mind by setting mini goals so it always felt as though I would be achieving. Without really noticing, I started intuitive eating and even though I lost weight, I didn’t even realise. With body issues, my mind was calm. I also started getting laser on my upper lip which gave me an extra bit of confidence in an area I was usually embarrassed about.
Right now, I would say that my mental health is good.
A lot of that is down to the practices that I have put in place to calm my mind and avoidance of triggers. I’m also lucky to find myself in the best, most loving relationship with a travelling ambition and knowledge that soon I will be able to dedicate as much time as I want to write.
But, I still have my days (like yesterday) where I want to push the world away, curl up into a ball and let the earth swallow me whole. But those days where I say “I can’t” are fewer now than before. And for that I am thankful.
Plane Ride Stitches 