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Author: Michael Snasdell

Published on Leave a comment on Deep breath, count to ten… Take control!

As I sit at the kitchen table, starting to write this blog, for which I have taken 24 hours to think of a name for, I am starting to understand my mindset on the whole matter.

The past year has been very different for me. Meeting Ann, moving in together, making huge physical and mental progress, as well as having many hiccups along the way. Roughly two years ago I was just starting to get caught in the whirlpool of depression. Starting to feel myself losing control, realising I was getting down, and fighting to keep my head above water. After a year long fight, I was in a position where I could say I finally felt back in control of things.

However being in a new relationship, and facing a very different living dynamic than the one I was used to, I wanted to tread carefully, and not rush myself off medication, or into to many changes at once. Almost another year later and I am finally in a position where I feel comfortable in considering a reduction in medication, and taking full control back.

Having been on Citalopram for 2 years now, I am more than aware that being off them will feel rather different to what I have grown used to. Since the first time on them, I am aware of the slight lethargic feeling they cause, which you just grow to accept in your day to day life. My recollection from coming off them last time is clear, and I remember how much more energised I felt, for the first few weeks at least. After that, well that is up to the individual.

And this is where the blog starts really.
There is an inherent fear of losing control early on, when there is no medication to "save you" from what life throws at you. When something unforeseen happens, you have no safety net to catch you. Truth be known, there never was. There is a placebo effect that is common when on such medication, and you feel safe, cocooned if you may. Such faith in the meds, that you feel stronger, and more resistant to outside influences. In reality, your mind is more chemically balanced, the right signals are being sent, and you take strength from this feeling. Almost a sense of enhanced confidence.

This confidence is something a lot of people lack, and it is what starts the downward spiral in the first place for some. Simple matters defeat you, worries begin to control you, and soon you are just along for the ride. The ability to remain in control is what gives this heightened sense of confidence.

Realising this is key for me, especially right now, as I approach the first drop in my Citalopram dose for about 18 months now. Knowing that the sense of control I feel I have now is all me, and not the medication is a sobering thought. It shows me that this person is me, I am not the product of the medication. I am however aware of the balance that the medication has restored in me, and am in no rush to immediately come completely off it. There may be a balance to be found between me and the meds, then again, I may be free of it entirely in the coming months.

The title of the blog is a mantra I need to keep in mind at all times. From home life to work life. Flat out training, to resting in the evening. There are always moments where we need to pause for thought, compose ourselves, and react rationally.  I found myself practising it yesterday in fact, which is what spawned this blog, realising I was actually in control.

A spanner thrown into the works of the day, churning up my thoughts, whilst in mid flow of writing another blog. My initial reaction, rage, anger, and fire straight back. Closing the laptop and walking away for 10 mins was a good start. Deep breath.

Distracting myself with something else, watching a YouTube video, gave me time to consider the matter, and contemplate my response. Was one even needed. Count to ten, think about it.

With a few minutes taken to consider the outcomes of all scenarios (classic trait of an over thinker, but that is another story) I relaxed. Realising that any response would simply perpetuate the situation, and each cycle would simply trouble me more, and not resolve anything. Sometimes the cause is just not worth the battle.

That however is just one example. Somehow my mind finds itself in these situations too often, and that is my next battle. There is only so much one can do when it comes to change and influence. Speak your mind if there is hope of a constructive outcome. If the outcome is pretty clear from the offset, why even bother involving and upsetting yourself? A mantra I can recite, but not one I am familiar with following, yet!

To support this change in medication, and what will no doubt be a bit of a strange time for me, to say the least, I have also decided to take control of matters in other ways too.

Having been sat at home bored senseless for weeks on end this year, with foot issue after foot issue, the time has come to stand up to it, pun intended. Having now been through the medical mill, tested, scanned, xrayed, medicated, reviewed, and currently going through physio, the one message I have taken from it is, it's not going to get better any time soon. However, gently pushing on should cause minimal harm.

Now a long way away from my 3,000 mile cycling goal this year, this is one of the things which stresses me out, after all cycling is my great escape. And my very own body has denied my mind this escape. Failure is NOT an option, I must succeed.

Whilst in with the doctor yesterday, which I will return to shortly, I discovered my weight has skyrocketed while I have been laid up, and I am now a HUGE 117kg or 257lbs (18.3 stone). A month ago I was 245lbs! This is not good, neither mentally nor physically. Extra strain on my body is unwanted, and is just going to cause me more issues, especially as it is my feet which have to bear the brunt of it all.

So, medication change is tied first place with weight loss. They go hand in hand, and support one another. Health = movement, movement = freedom, freedom = happiness, happiness = good mental health. I am not unfamiliar with losing weight or increasing fitness, in fact I love the challenge of it, but the timing has to be right.
Knowing I have almost 1,000 more miles to cycle this year is a kick in the backside for sure. With my experience of low calorie diets, HIIT (high intensity interval training) and getting stuck into long rides, I reckon the bar should be set high for my improvements for myself this year. Targets yet to be set, but rest assured they wont be easy ones.

So the plan, as with the medication is to get started with it all next week. One big start line for the whole lot. This coincides with my return to work also, so that alone will help with the routine side of things. It also gives me the remainder of this week to work on the advice from the physio, to regain more movement in my right ankle before working it. There are 87 days left in this year or just over 12 weeks, so plenty of time to get back where I want to be.  Watch this space.

In the meantime, I will carry my mantra, Breath, count, control, and apply it to any challenge which presents itself. It is simple really, the hardest part for me will be preventing the initial knee jerk reaction, to let the rest of the cycle play out. But I know I can do it, if I put my mind to it.

Published on Leave a comment on Me and my health.

The good news is, mentally I am fine. Phew, that's a relief.

However physically, things are a little more grim for me.
The first couple of months of the year I have struggled with foot pain. To the point where shoes and walking were a no no. Occasionally venturing out on the bike, desperate to keep my legs spinning, only to be rewarded with even worse foot pain.

With that now somewhat under control, my body thought long and hard, before giving me the next challenge. Delivered in a gold envelope by a smug looking twat in a lab coat, no wait, that's Top Gear...
Over the past few weeks, both at work and at home, people have commented on me breathing heavily. At the same time I have noticed that I labour a little with certain tasks. Usually walking or climbing stairs. Up until this time, I have been fine, walked at a good pace, climbed stairs with no issue. (Remember taking the stairs to the 22nd floor at Guys Hospital?). So obviously this has caused some concern for me.

This time of year, a lot of people with asthma (like me) struggle a little more with hayfever and other allergies causing complications. But for me that usually appears along with a chesty cough getting me all blocked up. This time, nothing. Antihistamines don't seem to help either, again they usually would. And finally my inhaler has little if no effect whatsoever.

To just spice things up a little more, my body decided to throw heart palpitations in the mix too. It's all the chest, right! Now as an avid cyclist, who strangely during all this, can actually still cycle like a nutter (confusing right!) I see my heart rate quite a lot, and push my body quite hard. Nothing abnormal shows on my HR, and there are no unexpected weaknesses or shortness of breath etc.

On speaking to my GP, he has arranged for a set of tests to be run. Bloods, heart trace, and a breathing function test. First two are done, 12 lead ECG appears fine, bloods we will see, and breathing function is being tested at the weekend. Hopefully they will point at something, as it would be a lie to say it doesn't concern me slightly. If not, the tests go on, to see what is going on in there.

I reminded myself to write this on the way back from the shops just now. Slow steady pace walking, warm but not uncomfortable day, 1 mile or so round trip. Being overtaken by people with walking trolleys, and feeling like I am labouring to carry on. Taking my heart rate on the way around, nothing shocking to see. 80-85 bpm, which is pretty good going for the conditions. Made the trip fine, but this is just one of many journeys on foot which I have made and struggled with.

The confusing part is, it can be walking or getting up that temporarily knocks me for six. But cycling, I can go on forever. The GP suggested, as expected, that weight may be a contributing factor, which I completely accept. I am indeed overweight, but should add I have not gained weight in months, so why suddenly now feel this way. And why do some less intense activities affect me worse than being bent over cycling?

Right now, it's all a mystery to me, and everyone else, but hopefully there will be some answers soon.

So that is my little update. Thanks for reading.

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Published on 2 Comments on Dear Deeply Offended….

I just thought I should put this little blog down on the internet (the battleground of real men and women), just to finish off a conversation which was cruelly struck short by the "block" button on Twitter.

Let's get straight in with how it all started.
As some might know, I have a dashcam on my cars, mainly in case I am involved in any sort of incident. However I openly admit, I do love catching stupidity on camera too.
A couple of months after getting my first, the novelty wore off posting stupid videos, so I don't do that as much these days.

Last night however, while driving through Brockley, SE4, in South London, I was fortunate enough to be hit from behind. Obviously all on camera.
At the time of the accident, the guy who hit me mentioned that a cyclist had startled him, causing him to hit me. Bit of a weak excuse for not stopping in time but hey ho. Shit happens.

All dealt with, I went home and retrieved the footage from the camera, just in case it was needed. On reviewing it, I noticed a cyclist, who had indeed caught my eye before the accident, but I had kinda put to the back of my mind.
I have posted a still image below..

OK, so first glance, I am betting you see a cyclist, with a red pannier bag on the back of the bike.
That's what I saw too, but then I noticed the feet. That is in face a child sitting over the back wheel of a bike, being ridden on a damp road, in rush hour, with very little effort to be seen. This part of the road is well lit, so not such an issue.

Like I say, this was never the issue I retrieved the footage or image for.
Moments after passing this cyclist (far too closely and over taking on a roundabout, so I am told) I came to a stop just on the other side of the roundabout. Sadly for me, the car behind me didn't stop in time, and ran into the back of me. He said when he stopped that the cyclist caused him to swerve, and he ended up hitting me.
Now I am not for one second saying this cyclist caused me to get hit in the car. Quite frankly, that's what insurance is for. No one was hurt, that's the way it goes.

However, at this point I put events together in my head and wonder what would have happened if the car had NOT swerved, or that it had come to a stop 2-3 ft over to the left, where the cyclist was passing me as I was hit.

This is not about who's fault it would have been (motorists without question) or who should have been where. But more me visualising the impact being made on the spine of the child being carried in this manner. Devastating is the word that comes to mind.

Now with the above in mind, I posted the image on social media, saying I felt the cyclist carrying a child in such a way was being irresponsible. I added that her unsteadiness on the bike also didn't help the situation. Simple, but I admit quite damning. I was careful of course to make sure the person was not identifiable, and to be fair, didn't have any images where they were, so all good there.

My point, nice and simple. Dangerous to carry a child like that, just increasing the danger of the trip unnecessarily . Cyclist are always vulnerable, but don't make yourself MORE vulnerable.

Some got it, others however like my friend "Deeply Offended" took dislike to it, and immediately suggested I was attacking and trying to belittle a woman, and a cyclist. Not sure the sex of the cyclist was ever a point of contention, but Deeply Offended seemed to think it was part of my point. Ignoring there was even a child in the image, the comments continued that I had nothing better to do than take pictures of strangers and post them on social media. Like arguing with a nameless and faceless person on Twitter is right up there too eh!

After a few tweets telling me about myself, and I guess trying to mock me as a person for posting such images, it all went quiet. So I prodded. My oh my, I must have prodded somewhere very sensitive, guess it is always going to be the case when you poke a delicate little arsehole on the internet.
What came next was a lovely stream of comments about myself, refusing to address the actual situation for a long time, before moving on to getting me to prove an accident followed the image (I am of course answerable to strangers on the internet). Once this was done, the focus turned to my driving, and how I had apparently forced the cyclist to the left, then over taken them, dangerously on a roundabout.

Not the case I might add, but all the same, IF it had been the case, and taking into account what happened next, did I inadvertently save a life, and prevent an accident. After all, if as accused, I forced the cyclist to the left, they were originally further over right. If this were the case, then the motorist who struck my car would without question have hit them.

Needless to say, after a little name calling, some biased facts being touted about, and some more name calling , I was blocked. Sorry to have offended you @edspindrift , I was really enjoying our conversation.

What I find frustrating about speaking to people like this, is whatever the case, they have an agenda, and are not willing to budge. Nothing is taken into consideration, and one tweet even suggested they had only read one tweet before boarding the bandwagon, so knew nothing else than the 140 characters they had read. Clearly well informed, they decided to go to town.

To be fair, social media would be a boring place without these people, and reminds me that as outspoken as I am, I try to make informed comments, rather than just trolling for key words, and unleashing my uneducated, misinformed rhetoric on strangers.  One comment that did tickle me was that if I cared about the safety of the child, I should give the rider some lights. So somehow it becomes my responsibility to buy lights for other road users who choose to put themselves and others in danger, to show I care?
Not the responsibility of the rider to make sure that they are clearly seen, especially when increasing their level of vulnerability? Wow, how things have changed.

As a keen cyclist myself, I make sure I am well lit, easy as possible to see, and present myself to other road users in the safest possible fashion possibly.
This is most likely one of the reasons I take such offence to other cyclists who don't give a crap. And take even more offence to keyboard warriors who take it upon themselves to defend stupid behaviour, automatically suggest the motorist could and should do more to make the roads safer, and refuse at all costs, that the cyclist can ever be either to blame or even increased the risks of the situation.

If today has taught me anything it is that there is no talking to some people. Some just have one thing in their head, and there is no point in trying to get your point across, either politely, or otherwise.
If you try the otherwise approach, they sulk, and block you from the platform they first found you on and started the whole debate. These people are usually habitual people, who spend a lot of their spare time pursuing the same narrow minded road of thinking.

I applaud some for their commitment to their causes. And in the course of the above interactions, I also engaged with another more open minded individual, who I genuinely enjoyed taking to.

So, make of it what you will. To me, the images I caught while retrieving the crash footage just alarmed me. I would hate to see someone I know and care about being carried on the public roads like that. If it's normal or acceptable to you, so be it. We have a different opinion, that's all. Makes neither of us an arsehole. The conversation which follows your opinion will define that.

More out takes from the conversation here... The full transcript is available on twitter on mine or @edspindrift

4

Published on 4 Comments on Propositioned in the loo !

Yesterday me and some friends went for a ride in Richmond Park. After a good few miles, we took it easy for a bit, some leaving, others putting in a couple more laps. Apart from being a bit windy, the weather was good to us, until the last lap that is.
Suddenly out of nowhere, driving rain, quite cold too. Strong winds driving it into our eyes, making seeing where you were going almost impossible.

Finishing the lap ma and Jason took shelter under the trees in the car park, and Lee decided to ride home (nutter but respect!)

Contemplating how to get dry and changed, we decided to drive to the next car park and use the loos there. Driving in cleats was a first for me, but I took to it better than I did riding in them, that is for sure. Didn't fall off the car once!

Got to the car park, grabbed dry clothes and ran for the toilets. Main idea was just to dry off in a dignified fashion and get some dry clothes on where possible. Shoes off, socks off, and over shorts off, I used a dry t-shirt to dry off with. Whilst doing so, and talking to Jason, A guy walking away from the urinal behind me started to exclaim happiness, and verbalise his joy at seeing what he saw. Exclaiming how brilliant and amazing it was. I turned to look at him, and he pointed to the lower half of me, saying again it was amazing, and did I mind if he took a picture.

I smiled and laughed, looked at Jason and said sure. Leaning forwards onto the hand basin, with my back turned, he crouched right down, moved in close and got his phone out to take a or some pictures. Standing back up again, he smiled and thanked me for my willingness, again told me how amazing it looked, and apologised for the sudden and maybe shocking proposition.

As he left, I looked over at Jason, we laughed, and expressed surprise at the encounter, then I went off to the cubicle to get changed.

Just to clarify, the guy had seen my Candy Smashing Hulk tattoo, and was taking pictures of that. I don't know what you thought I meant, but hey, glad to have made someones day.

3

Published on 3 Comments on Feeling up tight.

Have you ever had one of those moments when you realise life is starting to get annoying. Suddenly see that you are not relaxed like you used to be?

That's me right now.
I am putting it down to lack of meaningful exercise recently, and the lack of endorphins surging through my body.

Things getting to me, that I would usually just brush off. I am certain (very hopeful at least) that is it not depression creeping up on me. This feels different, just frequently annoyed by things, and unable to shake them off as I usually would.

Feeling fat isn't helping, and it is something I need to get a grip of, my health, not the rolls of fat! I know my health has taken a real beating over the recent months, and it stresses me out. Hatred of myself some days for not making an effort when I know I could have.

Entering a ride in Nov has be back on the right road, and I am hoping more time spent training and getting my body working, will result in a clearer mind, and some direction back in my life. I seem to have forgotten the promise I made to myself back in March when I emerged from depression, that I would look after myself first.

Just writing this short, badly put together entry, just to mark my recognition of this moment, and try and make things more positive from here on in.

Published on Leave a comment on Trouble switching off…

It's a common sign of the first stages of depression or stress,  but right now I have no reason to have either. That said,  I have noticed over the past week, I have struggled to switch off at night and stop thinking.

Anything and everything is game,  thoughts flying through my mind at a thousand miles an hour. From friends to current affairs. Flitting from one subject to the next in the beast of my heart.

I am hoping to resume training in the morning,  and hopefully that will serve as the energy draining mechanism I need. As will the yoga I have planned. Maybe that is best saved for the evening rather than mornings.

It is hard not to get caught in the momentum of this,  and start worrying about stress and depression again. I know I have to get money sorted,  but that isn't a huge pressure right now,  or doesn't feel that way anyway. It could be what's causing it.

Either way,  I will be keeping a close eye on myself over the coming weeks to see how things are. In a sense it is nice to have my complete free mind back,  on the other hand,  while still on meds it is a small concern that I am able to do so.

Before anyone suggests, yup I am familiar with relaxation techniques,  and practice them. It's not the end of the world,  when I do drop off,  I sleep well,  other than some strange dreams.

Another contributing factor is  physical well being. Hip is 90% better but still uncomfortable at night. Knee is almost totally fine now. But my body being the funny bastard that it is dealt me a bout of gout in my ankle this weekend. Thanks body,  you really do spoil me. Or is that ruin me?

Anyway,  wide awake so wrote this to pass some time. New week starts in an hour. Here's to next week and training again.

Published on Leave a comment on A simple existence.

Sometimes it is hard to realise the importance of some things in life. Too busy keeping up with the Jones's, having the latest gadgets, being up to date on the latest trends in clothing, music, TV and other social pressures. So it is good to take a step back at your life once in a while, and strip it back to the bare bones. Take a moment to realise what is actually important, and indispensable, compared to the material and emotional clutter most people seem to fill their lives with.

This is something I tend to do after a big shake up in life, maybe every few years, and am sure I have blogged about it in the past. Just like people have a Facebook cull for example, and delete all the randoms that they have added and accepted over the past year, and unfollow groups which have become tiresome.

Recently, as well as my own things going on, I have taken stock of what others go through too, and it is pretty humbling. Sure I have had my own battles in life, and have struggled to keep it together at times. Physical and mental pain sometimes making life feel unbearable, but I have never really paid much attention to those around me who go through similar.

Until now that is. Like I say recently I have become more and more aware that the trials and tribulations I have already dealt with in life await many of us at some point in life. Depression for some, illness for others, and of course the inevitable loss of loved ones. All things I can relate to very well having experienced them all a number of times.

This isn't a "been there, got the t-shirt" moment, I am not trying to belittle others in their times of need. Quite the opposite in fact. Well in my mind anyway. It is at times like these that I dearly want to offer my experiences with those going through the matters themselves. No two experiences are the same, but they bear the same hallmarks, and usually trigger a similar journey for a person to take. Just knowing someone has been down a similar path can sometimes be comfort enough.

Hearing "I know how you feel" and it sounding condescending is not just exclusive to depression, but to all other experiences in like which knock us from our axis.
Seeing others suffer in silence is almost painful. Do you approach and offer a hand, do you stand and watch them self destruct until it's too late or they finally beg for help? Interfere, or carefree?

Like I was saying, it is at times like this that everything else around you just seems to disappear, fading away into insignificance, leaving you only with the things you actually need to get by. The roof over your head, food and drink, and hopefully a network of good supportive friends who can steady you along the way, until you are stable again. Taking on tasks to assist, being there to talk to when you need to find reason.

If you ask most people what they could not live without, a lot would take love and friendship for granted, and move straight onto material objects, the internet, etc. But at a time of need, all that changes and quickly take stock of friends and acquaintances, and decide who you need around you to help.

When on an even keel, and taking stock, the results are more balanced. For me for example primarily I have a great group of friends who I know, even with their quirky ways, have my best interests at heart. Then I have my dogs, a sight and company I have grown used to, and some comfort when I am having a crappy day. The ability to get around comes next, being able to walk, cycle or drive somewhere is a huge bonus when the brain just says escape. Obviously the latter being the best when getting away with the dogs. Of course all this would be pretty pointless, so the roof over my head (and a very nice one thankfully) is right up there with the primaries in my life.

With just those things, dropping the car if necessary (but not out of preference) I could have a pretty happy existence really. Obviously I would miss the tech, given that it is one of the things that I find myself most engrossed in when not out and about, but I know I can get by without such things, and on trips to Spain I try and enforce that the best I can. Still turning to my tech devices, but no where near as much as usual. So if I were ever forced to choose things in life to let go of, or keep, I know where my loyalties lay. Friends, a roof, health just about sum up the priorities for me. How about yours?

In other aspects of life, like questioning how I fit into other peoples lives. For years I worried a lot about these things, but over time, experience and wisdom teaches you not to care too much about it. Real friends can deal with most things life throw at them, if someone decides to get all hateful towards you about petty things, like running up a phone bill in your name, then telling you it is YOUR problem, then calling you all the names under the sun (nope I don't forget pathetic acts like that), then they can simply go fuck themselves. I have no time for fakes, bullshitters and pisstakers in my life, but do keep a few around just for entertainment value.

On the grand scheme of things, how people feel about me is irrelevant. I can honestly say that 95% of the time I really don't care what others think of me. But in that delicate 5% time frame, it hurts me deeply, and that is my achillies heel in life. Suddenly becoming vulnerable to what others think of me, what is said about me, and how I am perceived. The last bout of depression is testament of this without doubt. Having my life torn apart by a few simple actions and comments.

It is so easy to reflect with hindsight and say how simple life can be if you just do this and that. But sometimes you are drawn in, trying to do the right thing, follow your heart, and it bites you in the arse, hard! How you recover from that is another matter. I have seen many friends over the year destroyed by their own actions. Actions which were carried out to make someone elses life richer, not for self gain. Taken for granted, used for their kindness and vulnerability, by selfish, greedy individuals only out for themselves.

When I look at friends who have gone off to do their own thing, follow their hearts, and enjoy life without the complications of the hustle and bustle of the daily grind, I am envious. To a degree at least. I like convenience, I like choice, and if I am totally honest I actually like a bit of the rush I live in being a Londoner. Sure I like to escape and recharge in remote places, but I also like the thrill of a 24 hour city. I am sure if push came to shove, and I could choose without cutting my nose off to spite my face, I could choose one, but right now, the balance is good.

As for fashion trends, the need to socialise in popular places, and being trendy, well that can pretty much sod off. I don't shun them as a whole, but have no ambition to become trendy and fit in places which I find to be so false. The more you pay to be somewhere, the less it becomes about who you are, and the more it is about what you have, money being the key. Money attracts money, and it also attracts fakers trying to get a step up. So that can stay where it is as far as I am concerned.

Clothing, I like nice clothes, but prefer to have the right clothes for the job, rather than clothes with the right labels. Same with other things in life, like tech for example. Once it was about branding, now more about ability for buck.

So to me, really, I think the older I get, the more simple a life I desire. My experiences keep me grounded, my desire to help others keeps me true to my goals.

To all my friends who support me, thank you so much. To those special people in my life who I am trying to reach out to (nope, you are not the only one) , hang in there, I am right here, as are many others who care about what you are going through. Together we will all get back up on our feet together and support each other. Have faith in yourself.

Published on Leave a comment on “I am so depressed”

A phrase we have become accustomed to using over our lives. One we use when something has gone wrong for us. Nothing life changing, nothing actually too serious, but when it occurs it really throws a spanner in the works. Didn't get the concert tickets you wanted, the new game you wanted has sold out, your phone breaks, or you lose some money. All things that really do make you feel a slump in the moment. So when given the chance to express ourselves, we will generally use this phrase, or similar.

The strange thing is, when people truly are depressed, it is the last thing they will say. A person recognising they are dropping into a state of depression is more likely to make excuses, such as tired, un-bothered, or just not in the mood to do something. In the moment they have time to seek support and help, they just shut down and hide from the feeling.

The two kind of go hand in hand, with the first use of the word diminishing the seriousness of the word, and the person in the second example just doesn't want to be mixed in with the slightly over dramatic use of the word. Running the risk of being told "it will be ok" or "get over it"
Neither of which are of any help to someone struggling with their mind.

The over exaggerated use of the term "depressed" has just become fashionable now, just like "I'm so OCD" (no you are just tidy), or comparing your over excited, hyperactive child to someone with  ADHD. These are all serious matters, but the fashionable use of these phrases has really taken the focus away from the true sufferers. Now the services who deal with all these issues are at breaking point, with people being assessed for conditions, and some entering treatment, while in reality there are other issues which are presenting as the real thing.

I know that sounds a bit far fetched, but from experience with depression, just seeing the mix of people who turn up and describe their symptoms, it is clear that some are better suited to community and social projects, which allow them to frequently interact with others, rather than going through a long process of learning to deal with issues they clearly don't have. And I say that not selfishly or blinkered, but with the confidence that when someone cannot relate to a single issue anyone else has, but wants to complain about the health service for half an hour, there is more to it that depression.

This isn't to say that these people don't deserve treatment or attention, of course they do. They are clearly facing issues of their own, which a GP has put down as depression, but need to be assessed in a way that doesn't just say "depression Y/N". The same applies to others with behavioural issues. Easier to put them down as an attention disorder, than challenge the parent on their parenting skills. Not every naughty child has a condition, but sometimes it is easier to just say "I can't control him", than taking the time out to see if it is something you are doing which is promoting this behaviour.

Like I say, I am not for one second sneering at the actual conditions. But on all fronts, there is a fine line (actually a mighty chasm) between feeling down, and being depressed, or misbehaving and ADHD. One remains in your control to a large degree, the other you are just a passenger along for the ride, with no control over the direction it all goes in.

Now I am no expert in child behavior, so I will not say another word on the matter, other than to tip my hat to the parents who have kids with any of these conditions, and don't make excuses. Digging your heels in and getting on with what life has presented you with is an incredibly brave and strong thing to do. In fact I would go so far as to say that you are some of the best parents out there, and side by side with a spoiled brat, your children probably shines brighter than most. And no reason whatsoever that they should not.

As for depression, I can certainly speak on this matter with good authority, at least from my own experiences. I would not for one second wish to even start to belittle someone who has been on a different journey to me, and suffers in other ways. There are many forms of depression, it comes in many shapes and sizes. My experience is just one. But one I want to share as much as possible to ensure that it stops being such a forbidden topic, the social shame is lifted from over the condition, and people suffering can lift their heads and say " I am depressed, and proud to be dealing with it"

Depression is in short the suppression of our ability to engage, think rationally,  interact, and form trust bonds with others. There are many other symptoms, but these four cover a lot of those in an umbrella kind of way. So having our whole existence suppressed, the last thing we need. Without existing, how do we recover. Hidden away in a dark room every spare moment of our lives. Managing to put on an brave face to do the things we need to do. Going to work looking like all is well, head down like we are busy. Daring to speak to no-one in case we give the game away.

Once outside of work, shunning social opportunities, avoiding going shopping in busy places where possible, running from people, decisions, pressure or anything we cannot control the outcome of. Or as it is described in Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT), seeing things through a negative filter.  Assuming anything we choose to do will turn to crap, fearing the worst outcome of doing anything other than hiding ourselves away. Even worrying that our closest friends will reject us if we dare to tell them we are suffering from depression.

Nope, admission of depression is between you and the medical practitioners, and is top secret. Taking your medication in private, even hiding it at home from loved ones. Maybe even just throwing it away, or to the back of a drawer, as the stigma surrounding "anti depressants" is just all too much to be mixed up in. In truth, it is the people who DO actually sneer at people struggling with depression who have the issue. Being so judgmental, pointing the finger and mocking people who are brave enough to face their demons in public. Maybe it is those trying to mock, who actually suppress their own issues the best. Is it they who are most in need of support, trying to deflect their own issues onto someone standing tall at such a tough time?

I am not sure why in this day and age, with so many people having suffered a breakdown, or on going depression or anxiety, there is so much stigma attached to the conditions. Given how many well loved and highly acclaimed celebrities have come out openly, talking about their battles through their lives. Facing their demons, while putting on such a strong public face. Hiding it all away for the sake of their image, before saying enough is enough, and speaking out urging people to support those suffering. Even some of the most loved, taking their own lives, only for the world to realise what a terrifying and lonely world their idol lived with .

Quotes like "Despite being surrounded by people, I feel so alone" is a good example of what it can feel like to be in a state of depression. I know Robin Williams was apparently quoted as saying similar. Happiness and sanity is not found in popularity, wealth, or a lavish lifestyle. Being surrounded by so called friends does not make you emotionally rich. If anything it numbs the senses even more, and draws you away from the important things in life. By the time you realise how far you have strayed from the sanctity of your comfort zone, you are out there being preyed on by the wolves of the mind.

I consider myself very wealthy as far as the quality of my life goes. I have the material objects I desire, none of which make me happy, they just help cocoon me in a bubble I share with the richer things in my life. My dogs, my few true friends, my mental strength, and the belief in myself that I can make a positive impact on others lives, using the experiences in my own life. My circle of friends has changed a lot in the past few years. Realisation that knowing someone for a long time does NOT make them a good friend, just an old acquaintance. And now knowing that support and genuine friendships can come at any stage in life, and sometimes from the most unlikely places. Two true friends coming from an internet forum that drove me to the brink last time I was suffering with depression. Sleepers who sat an observed, and helped me back on my feet when the time was right. With no prompting, no pleading, just their own selfless actions. For this I thank them.

But this is the real problem, the support network.
Anyone who knows me, and if you read my blog, you will understand I am far from timid with the written word. I don't hold back, and I rarely paint a pretty picture when underneath life is bleak. If its dark, I say it as it is. Sometimes a strong point, other times a bit of a mood killer, but it's who I am.
After spending many years trying to please others, and meet their expectations, I decided to be me, and I stay true to that every day. Again, it is not always what people want to see, but the days of faking and pleasing are in the past, so please don't ask me to be someone I am not.

For others however, even those with outgoing personalities, dealing with the realisation that you are actually depressed is a tough one. Admitting to it is something huge, possibly only choosing to tell one or two people, and most of the time not your nearest and dearest. The truth be told, some of the outgoing personalities are just what I was doing. The brave face, the loud deflecting voice, desperate to save my dignity, and not let on I was falling apart inside. See that is what depression is all about. Losing control, but desperately fighting to maintain image.

To admit you are depressed, genuinely, is for some like admitting defeat or weakness. It's like backing out of a challenge of any level, before even trying. And even the most grounded person knows that is never a good feeling to do once, let alone over and over. Convinced you will fail, sure you cannot achieve what you need to, and being scared of facing the consequences, and how your peers will react.
Have you ever dreamt that you have left your house with no clothes on, or that you are running away from something, but seem to be running on the spot. The level of helplessness you wake with, the panic and fear of losing all control of your dignity and self control. Well that is how it can feel every minute of every day.
One of the biggest fears in my experience of depression was being judged. I think as a whole, when you breakdown all the different aspects of depression, a lot of them come down to the same thing, how other will perceive us.

Walking down a street, feeling anxious that everyone you make eye contact with is staring at you, and judging you. You look strange, messy hair, cheap clothes, and so on. The list is endless, but you will read far more into their glance than they could possibly have gathered and judged you on. A simple exchange of words with someone, over analysed until it was meant with such hatred and malice. Everything is dark and negative, nothing can possibly be positive for a second. This continues until staying indoors, or going shopping late at night, or in the smallest shop possible is the only way to go on. Now hidden away, safely separated from society.

As I have said though, the only people who would really look at you in such a way are most likely suppressing issues of their own, and just fighting back their own fears of others judging them.

So what does a depressed person need from you? If you think someone is depressed, what can you do to make things better for them. And by better I mean help them on the road to recovery, rather than a patronising "there there there" and a pat on the back, making it all better for them.
I have to say there is no single simple answer to such a question, with all cases presenting differently. You may have noticed a change in their behaviour, withdrawn from group events, or just being quiet for a long period of time. Trouble engaging as they usually would.
For me, I would say I benefited simply from knowing people were there when I was ready for them to play their part. Having already declared my depression made that easier, but I know that isn't every ones approach.
If it is not clear what the issue is, but you suspect things might not be great, don't barrel in full of questions and suggestions. Just tread gently, but be the friend they know and trust. There is no need to smother someone, just indirect reassurances that you are about if they fancy a drink or a chat some time, in their own time.

There is no right way, go with your instincts. You know the person you know as a friend, so be yourself, if your help is needed, your support wanted, I am sure the time will come when this is obvious, and it can all flow naturally from there. I kept a lot of my friends out of the loop when I was at my lowest. Partially where I didn't want to bother them, and partly because they were the wrong person for the job at the time. It's nothing personal, just how the mind can be at times. You wouldn't turn to an outgoing party animal to be there in silence while you grieve, or an introvert friend to support you in a confrontational situation, so accept it that there is a tool for every job.

The biggest question for me in all this, from a sufferers perspective is why so many people live in a constant state of depression, and either refuse to act on it, or fail to identify their state of mind.
I guess there are logical answers to both, but for me I don't want to see others suffer in silence. Even those who seek help, get meds and go to counselling, will avoid telling friends for some reason. Again speaking from experience of others who have admitted after a long time they too fought with depression.
Identifying you are struggling with depression or anxiety is understandable. It is so easy to assume "everyone feels this way", but the reality is, they're not. It is not normal to dread getting up and facing the world day after day. Holding your tongue at home or at work, just to avoid the confrontation, and instead living in a suppressed state is not normal, contrary to belief. Fear of being judged by people when you are out in public, refusing to make eye contact or even waiting for the automated paying in machine in a bank while 3 cashiers are free just to avoid speaking to someone (like I did) is NOT normal.

Sometimes overcoming these issues can be as simple as taking a look from afar and making changes in the way you look at life, and accept treatment from your peers. Other times some form of help is needed. From counselling to chatting to friends and letting it all go. To entering the system so to speak, and going on record with your GP to seek help. None of these actions in any way make you weak or a failure. A little vulnerable yes, but for the right reasons. Sometimes being laid bare is an enlightening and empowering experience. Throwing caution to the wind, and only caring about yourself for once. Taking the steps to make life better, and trusting others to help you achieve that.

I am determined to keep talking about depression. Hopefully slowly but surely helping as many people as I can realise that being depressed is nothing to be ashamed of. It should not be hidden, and the stigma attached to the condition needs to go away. Over the past few years there are more and more campaigns to raise awareness of depression and mental health. Not a minute too soon I say, in fact maybe a decade too late. But the movement has started. I applaud those spearheading the campaigns, and praise anyone willing to share their stories of how desperate they have felt at times. There is no demographic description for someone who will become depressed. Rich, poor, outgoing, introvert, it takes all types. Even famous people, yup, that's right, even the rich and famous battle with mental health.

It's not a life choice, it is not something we bring upon ourselves. Mental heath issues affect who they want, how they want, and when they want. There is no choice in the matter whatsoever. The only choices we have are how we will cope with an issue if and when it strikes. Standing tall, not hiding, and reaching out are some of the best things you can do. However, when you are able to do that is all a matter of time. The second you realise, or a month after starting medication, that bit is all down to you.

I have rambled on for long enough now, but want to close by saying this.
Mental health is a serious issue in the UK, and one reaching epidemic proportions in some regions. Awareness is poor, understanding is hit and miss. Acceptance of the conditions is growing, and this is a positive step for the sufferers. However treatment varies, funding is seemingly inadequate, and the focus from the top down seems to be somewhat sporadic. The whole matter needs serious reappraisal, and a proper plan needs to be drawn up to deal with the rising number of cases. Not by sidelining people, and leaving them waiting months and months to receive some help, in the hope that they will just get better. And certainly not discharging people for missing a couple of sessions of a course, making it seem that they have successfully recovered. This is what I was told after missing one session due to heightened anxiety one day. Miss another, be discharged. Not dismissed, but discharged as OK.

Initial assessments need to be timely and thorough. Actual issues need to be properly identified, and the correct course of treatment should be made available in a reasonable time frame. Once someone is diagnosed as depressed, the clock is well and truly ticking, so time is of the essence. I don't expect things to change and improve over night, I am realistic. However I also appreciate the importance of the right help at the right time, and understand the implications of drawing things out, and not receiving the help you need in time. I was lucky, my meds were helping and my core of friends were reaching out to keep me afloat. But if I had been alone, I don't know if I would have made it in the right state of mind to the CBT course. I may have been too far gone by that stage.

I really do hope that there is an improvement to the system over the next few years. Certainly from my perspective, knowing that depression is usually a reoccurring condition, and from both experience and education, each case being worse than the last, I really hope that by the next time I am hit with a bout of depression, the mental health system on the NHS is as prepared as my friends are to hold me up and get me back on my feet as soon as possible.

Please feel free to email me directly with any feedback on this entry, to chat, to discuss etc. No one should suffer alone, so please don't.

Published on Leave a comment on Mental Health and the NHS

Before I even get started I want to make something perfectly clear.. I am NOT having a dig at the NHS. I know plenty of people out there have their issues with the service, some quite rightly so, others just over expectational of what the service exist for, and what medical science is actually capable of.
Contrary to believe, not all lives can be saved, no all conditions resolved. Of course it is sad to lose a loved one, but blaming a service as mighty as the NHS is not always the right way to vent that feeling.
Mistakes have been made, lives lost for sure, and no that is not right. But on the grand scale, if we frown on the bad, then we should also celebrate the huge achievements of the NHS every day. But as usual, we are quick to complain, but slow to commend.

Right, now to what  I started writing this whole entry about. Not sure about its direction just yet, so lets see how it pans out. In short, I want to address the mental health service offered by the NHS. Obviously this is something I am quite familiar with, having been treated for depression and anxiety a number of times now, so I am not just grasping at straws here, and want to use some of my own experiences, and stories of others I know to try and put across a balanced opinion, so lets try this.

The first time I  suffered from a bout of depression was long before I was ever treated for depression. In the late 90's, losing touch with my daughter drove my to the brink. And thinking back about that now, reminds me very much of my most recent experience. Both dealt with by me with irrational amounts of physical activity, training twice a day 6 days a week at the gym. Good for the body, terrible for the mind.

Back then I was a lost soul, still in my 20's seeing my daughter torn away from me, and worst still, seeing my child move forwards in her life without her father, just like I had. Something I had vowed no child of mine would EVER go through. And there is was. One afternoon I found myself in casualty with a large gash on my hand, as a result of punching through a laminated screen in frustration. A scar I still carry today, and a reminder that physical reactions to feeling unstable mentally need to be limited and controlled. I didn't intend harm to myself, but ended up doing so. I never recognised what I was going through as being a mental health issue, so plugged on for the next year, finally slowly returning to my old self.

It would be another 10 years before I would see depression again, properly at least. As the condition of my mother worsened, and her need for a carer grew, I took on a new lifestyle. Combined with the recovery of a recent operation and a bad time at work, my mental condition dropped, and I soon realised I was in a very dark and desperate place, struggling to sleep, socialise, or even care about my own well being. On seeing a doctor I was prescribed Citalopram 20mh, soon rising to 40mg. Thankfully work provided some one to one counselling for me, and with the help of Peter my brilliant counsellor, I made a strong recovery, again, after about a year or so. Meds were reduced and phased out.

Move on another 5 years or so, and there we were again. A huge slump in mood drove me to possibly the deepest and most desperate point I have ever been in, long term. I have had huge lows, but never stayed this low. Seeing a new GP, I was back on Citalopram, and referred for counselling. This is where it really begun.

I was phone assessed by what felt like a very robotic and uncaring person, who decided my condition was mild and I should go to Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT) For those not familiar with it, the only way I can summarise it is like this. You are taught to  identify points from early life which may have shaped your behaviour today, then to concentrate on what triggers your depression, and the cycles you go through which perpetuate the depression. Learning coping mechanisms, how to isolate each component, and on ways to avoid the spiral of depression. It sounds a bit hopeless and complex, but I must confess by the end I was understanding myself a lot better. In short, CBT isn't as bad as I first thought it was, but still don't believe it is for everyone.

As I was first introduced to the CBT service, I started to understand why some people were so frustrated with the NHS for their MH provisions, or at least the way they manage it. A few weeks after my somewhat uncaring phone assessment I received a letter to go to the Jenner Health centre for a one to one, with some vague information about this CBT thing. Having looked it up on the internet I was curious but not convinced.
On my arrival there I realised that not only was there no reception for the CBT dept (as noted in the letter) but there was barely a sign that I was even in the right place. Bad start for anxious people. My appointment was for about 12.00, but by about 12.30 I hadn't seen a single person on the floor or in the waiting room. Finally someone did come in, and was swiftly collected by a post natal class person. Now I am wondering if I am in the right place, anxiety levels rising.  Eventually someone came out to get me, apologising as we walked down the hallway. Little comfort for the way I was now feeling.

I was briefly asked about what brought me there that day, then pummelled with piles of papers about CBT. Being told that the things I was talking about were not of consequence, and that CBT only looks forwards. The past can't be changed. Tell that to someone traumatised by their past!
The following week, after finding peace with myself and realising this was the help I was getting and to go with it, I arrived at my appointment to be told I had been referred elsewhere, and was now to join a group therapy class. Anxious and depressed, great, lets go sit in a circle and talk about it. I was told this was NOT the case, but on arrival it was just like that. A circle of chairs and two counsellors.

At this point I was feeling hopeless. Speaking to the counsellors about how I felt, I was told nicely just to stick with it, but with no real foundation to it.

So I guess this is where my concerns first start. As humans we are capable of compassion and empathy, to a degree at least. But the line "I know how you feel" is used all too freely. If you have never been bound by the ropes of depression, or had your thoughts suppressed by the worry and voices in your head. If you have never just wanted to spend the next week in bed, and not wanted to see ANYONE face to face for weeks on end.... Then you certainly should not tell a depressed person "I know how you feel", you really don't.

I applaud anyone choosing a career in mental health. As far as the NHS goes it is hardly financially rewarding, and to some degree it isn't an easy role to fill either. It takes a strong mind to deal with such matters day in, day out. However I do sometimes wonder what the criteria really is for getting such a role, and how many sufferers of depression actually work in the service. Maybe it is counter productive to have sufferers working in the field, but from my perspective, I am in my element working with people suffering, as I feel I have more ability to understand what they mean when thy express how helpless they feel. Rather than replying with the "hmmm, hmmm, yes" I seemed to get a lot of the time.

So before I go on anymore, thank you to anyone who seriously takes on a role to help sufferers of mental health issues, not just depression and anxiety. You DO make a difference for sure. But I wonder would more funding, training, or better selection of staff, and a better understanding of the conditions make a bigger difference.

Do I think I could do better? Well that is a very good question indeed, and a fair one. I don't have any qualifications in anything, let alone psychology, I have no further education either. So academically I am useless. But is that what counts? Who can lead you through a forest at night the best, an expert map reader who has never been to this forest, or a local who lives there, but can't read or write? I think the answer is obvious. Sometimes qualifications and certificates are not the be all and end all. Sometimes its more about understanding and empathy to the situation.

Obviously there is some information required. Not every experience is the same, and not all people react the same way. Understanding the mechanism of the mind is pretty darn important too of course. So there is a balance to be found for sure. The right level of input from sufferers, the correct level of understanding of the situation from a psychological perspective, and carefully planned academic coursework and structured action plans. Question is, is this being achieved?

From my experience, possibly, in fact probably not. Counsellors arriving late to groups, not understanding the impact that has on the recovering mind. Mixed up piles of photocopied coursework sheets, sometimes not enough to go around. Depending too much on patient participation to get the course moving. Without solid contribution of stories from those attending, sessions sometimes stalled. In my instance I was happy to share deep and past experiences, but it was quite clear to me that many others were less comfortable (rightly so). Counsellors unable to directly answer questions on the subject matter at times, with others in the group having to fumble for answers til it was decided one of them was right.

It is not all negative of course, I came out the other end feeling better for it. My question is, who did what for me. Did I get back on my feet myself, did my sharing and helping others inspire me to fight back, or did CBT save the day? Honestly, I think it is a combination, but not a very balanced one. CBT put me in a room with people, something I was uncomfortable with, but willing to try. It also gave me the opportunity to tell my story. However the coursework was mainly thinks I have been through on my own free will. Identifying triggers, identifying drops in mood, coping mechanisms, understanding how society makes me feel.  So the actual learning side was lost on me.

That said, helping others in the group identify with their own demons, and give my own examples to help them better understand their own, that was something. By half way through I was looking forwards to each week, to see what impact I could have, and getting people smiling or sharing was a powerful drug for me.
This in turn enabled me to help myself. Both understand myself a bit more, give me a purpose and some self worth back. All in all the right combination was found, for me at least.

As the course went on, and people showed up from time to time, it became obvious that some people were back for the second or third time. That part was lost on me. Learning about yourself, understanding the functions of the mind, and the cruel tricks it plays is one thing. But re-learning over and over.... I don't get it. If you need help after completing the first course, surely you need a different approach. In this respect the MH system is a bit lost and misguided. I wonder what it feels like to be re-sent on a 12 week course just because you have become depressed again. While the lessons learned are powerful and enlightening, they simply cannot stop the body and mind from throwing your life into turmoil, it's just not that simple.

Now the elephant in the room. Medication!
Having grown up watching programs with mental health patience receiving mind numbing sedation drugs to keep their minds rested, I have long thought that all anti depressants are of the same nature, making you sleepy and non functional, and silencing the issues, rather than helping tackle them.
However it turns out they are not. They all do different things, some indeed are sedative style, but others help the body produce more of what is needed to balance your moods. Apart from some strange side effects during early days, life after that, once on the right dose becomes pretty darn normal. Apart from remembering to take a tablet each day, you are just you again, certainly with Citalopram.

I know quite a few others who feel exactly the same way about the meds.
Being serious for a second, look at it this way. In most cases you can come off them when the depression and risk of it reoccurring has passed, reducing the dose, until none is needed. I have done that successfully myself after my last bout of depression 5 years ago.
Think of it this way, if you have something important to do which requires your full attention, and have a headache, you grab some ibuprofen, wait 45 mins, and you are fit to do the task at hand. There is no stigma attached to ibuprofen, so it is socially acceptable. With mental health, it is the same, but sadly its going to be 45 days or more rather than minutes. Once the levels in your body start to level out, and you are able to think straight again, you can help yourself understand what the issue is, and how best to overcome it. Sometimes without clearing the fog, you won't be able to see the path out of the forest.

So I don't see them as a negative thing at all. And I really wish society would see this too. Alcohol alters the mind, so does tobacco, but somehow they are both social and acceptable drugs to use. "Overdosing" on them is common place, and abuse of them is an epidemic. But society seems to say that is ok. And yet at the same time frowns on simple, controlled, monitored medication taken by those needing that little tweak of the mind. I don't get it, not for one second. But then I don't drink or smoke, so how would I. Just as those who frown on medication for mental health don't get it, but still judge.

The drug side of the mental health treatment on the NHS seems to be aplenty. Churning out prescriptions many times a day, no scheduled reviews once prescribed. The face to face part, which in some cases is critical however seems very hit and miss. I felt that the whole process took far too long for me to get facetime with anyone. However it seems that this waiting time varies radically from borough to borough, just in London alone, so nationally, I dread to think what the variations are.
One example. I was referred in November 2015, and finally got face time in Jan 2016. To me, that was an eternity, and waiting for it was both scary and painful. Thankfully by that time I had started to find my own circle of support from a great group of friends.

For someone else I have gotten to know, they were referred at the same time as me, and here we are in August, coming on for a year later, and they are STILL waiting. Same are, different borough council, so different MH team and ethics it would seem. This is fundamentally where it all starts to fall apart.
I have all too often heard the term "NHS postcode lottery" and again wondered what the hell people are on about. But it would seem this is one example of this phenomena.

I just don't get how there can be differences in urgency, treatment, assessment, and over all ethics towards mental health from postcode to postcode. Surely the NHS as a whole, all the trusts combined have agreed a strategy for treating mental health. Moral codes of conduct, tiers of urgency and treatment nationwide. I don't understand how one body, overseen by one government, can be so fragmented, first into trusts, then into boroughs, and each fragment having its own ideals on treatment for a condition.
It also leaves me wondering if the same is true for others branches of the NHS, other fields of medicine. Should I move house to get considered more important by another boroughs health team?

Thankfully for me, in South London, under Lewisham, I cannot complain about any of the medical attention I have received over the years. Ultimately it has all worked out for me, and I am here writing annoyingly long blogs like this. But I has me now wondering about how different things are, and what can be done to make a change to the whole system.
I have read news reports for years which say the mental health section of the NHS is desperately under-funded, and spiralling out of control. I have also read reports of how people have been let down by the service, resulting in vulnerable people committing suicide, or harming others.

Somewhere in amongst that all is the answer. The right direction to take.
So my questions.

Why are counsellors photocopying literature for a course with a fixed program of learning. Buying paper,making thousands of copies on a photocopier, making a mess of things, and fumbling by. Is it not easier to have these put into booklets and handed out by every borough, every trust. Ensuring that everyone is receiving the same education on their condition. No missing pages, no topics accidentally overlooked. Surely it is cheaper to put it out to tender once, and print them all and distribute throughout the UK. Procurement for such things should be centralised. One of the faults maybe of the NHS being so top heavy and fragmented?

How many people working in the field actually have first hand experience of depression and anxiety. Statistically it is likely that most people working with cancer in the NHS no someone who has experienced cancer, so empathy is far easier to give.
However while depression and anxiety is at epidemic levels now, firstly it is in the shadows. Not discussed, never admitted, and sometimes denied by those diagnosed. So getting people to speak about it, let alone help in the field is really tough, I get that. But I am still curious to know how many are in the field, helping others understand. After my CBT course was done, I was hungry to help others, and as it turns out when I look back over my life, I have been doing this for ages.
I was shocked by the number of my friends who have suffered or still do, and touched by the positivity I received about my honest and open blog entries about the matter. I really didn't realise how wide spread it was, nor how secret it was.

I really wish I had the know how to start digging for information and understanding how things could be done differently, not only from my experiences, but from others too. If I had the time, I would dig deeper, and push harder to get heard, but for now I will carry on doing what I feel is right, and keep reaching out to others who are fighting their demons. Struggling every day against the voices in their heads, and the lack of understanding from the world around them.

I have more to say on this matter, watch this space. But in the meantime, if there is any official organisation I can lend my mind to, just call 🙂

Published on Leave a comment on 24 hours without pain or meds!

Quite surprising really, but at the same time, I guess I have learned how to cope too.
Deciding yesterday morning that I would NOT take any more anti inflammatory tablets until I felt physical discomfort. Until now I have done the usual and stayed ahead of the curve. Taking them at regular intervals to keep it all minimal. There has definitely been some discomfort in that time, so it was not pointless.

However, I'm trying to go easy on my body, and avoid taking excessive amounts. I discussed with the GP how I should continue from this point re medication and what to expect from the recovery process. The decisions were simple, carry on doing what I am doing. Stretching, exercising gently, resting where possible and taking meds as and when required, when the sensations start to register.

This morning, as I was med free, I decided against taking the dogs on a walk, just in case I jarred something, and instead took myself for a gentle walk. Planning about 3 miles, which I am used to running in about 27 mins, or walking in 48-50, it took me just shy of an hour today. That included a couple of stop and stretches, as things were getting tight. But the pace was literally 3 mph. Expecting to suffer for doing this, I came home and got into some yoga stretches, releasing the tension from my lower back and shoulders.

It was a good decision, and within 10 mins of getting home, I was once again relaxed, with no tightness in my back. To the point where I am catching myself out bending down to do things with the ease I once did so. It's a good feeling to be able to get on with things without worry or pain.

That said, it's not all rosey. There is some discomfort still, and I know a lot of the current lack of pain is down to a lack of activity too. I'm not going to say I am healed or fully recovered, and won't be able to either until I have returned to running and cycling.
This weekend I will miss the Prudential 100 which I had so looked forwards to doing, but I know it is for the best. However I want to be back in the saddle soon.  I feel like I am really missing out on summer and some amazing adventures.

I won't be rushing though, once with this is enough for me, and my road ahead will include doing everything I can to avoid a re-occurrence of this. Having gained weight, I now realise how well I was doing. Yo-yo'ing isn't usually quite this quick, so rapidly regaining some weight really puts a toll on the body which has got used to being without it very quickly.
Needless to say I am doing everything I can to lose it again ASAP. Back to healthy(ish) eating already, Monday will show if it is working as it is my first checkpoint.

I am hoping that in the next 14 days I can forget about taking pills unless I do anything strenuous, and that in the same time-frame I can do some running at home on the treadmill, (and some cross trainer for quads and glutes), and some short and gentle rides on the bikes. At least start to normalise my activities, so as my body repairs, it repairs the right way, allowing for these movements. Rather than healing, and THEN getting used to joint movements all over again.

Tomorrow I have a review meeting with my chiropractor, who has been instrumental in this recovery progress. Releasing the tension in my back, allowing the muscles to come out of spasm, and start to repair themselves. Thanks to Noel for the recommendation. I should come away with exercises to do, based on my goals moving forwards. Some of which have already been discussed, and fit in nicely with the Track Yoga program I am following at the moment, which alone has had a big impact on my morning stiffness, and helped me start my day the right way.

All in all, this is the most positive I have felt for months now, and can't wait to get moving properly again. My Garmin weekly summary is really up on what it has been for weeks now.

Hopefully I can get the whole screen full of those bars in the next couple of weeks, and really start to burn some calories, and get the miles in.

Speaking of moving and steps, I have also discovered that 2 pairs of my trainers are possibly causing me issues too, turning my feet in, which would in turn stress my hips and glutes. Needless to say they are on their way to the bin now.
Its annoying and confusing though, as the pair of trainers I first started running in, Nikes in a UK 9.5 were pinching my toe after the first couple of months of running, but otherwise were perfect. Being logical, I replaced them with a UK 10 of the same shoe... Which has decided to have no inner support, and allows the feet to roll in.  Half a size, huge difference.

So now I am left wondering. Replacing another of my pairs of trainers, which are currently feeling OK, but wearing as if they are a tiny bit short... Do I go with the 9.5 again, or up them to a UK 10 too, and run the risk they will be totally different too. . Decisions decisions. Currently tempted to buy in both sizes and see how they both fair. Nike Lunar Forever are lovely ! I am sure I will do something totally irrational over the weekend. But will be discussing this with the chiropractor tomorrow also.

So that is me for now, on the mend, itching to get going, but all under control. Here's to upping the distances and speeds slowly and safely over the coming weeks, and riding properly by the end of August.

Thanks for reading, and take care of your back.