Tag: Mental Health Awareness Week

Sabre toothed tigers and hypocrisy

The Mental Health Awareness Week blog

Feature image “Sabre Tooth Tigers eating Daffodils” by andrew_j_w  CC BY-SA 2.0

Whenever I write about my experiences with mental health people tell me how brave I am for doing it.

I’ll let you all in on a secret though, whenever I talk about a rough patch it is always after I have gotten through it and am out the other side. When I am in the middle of scrapping with my brain I won’t admit I am struggling to a soul.

I tell the world that there is no shame in having mental health issues, but when I’m having my own I clam right up and pretend everything is fine. In short, I’m a giant hypocrite.

I told this to my therapist once and she heartily agreed, in a kind way. She’s one of those people who tell you what you need to know, not what you want to hear. She once gleefully quoted passages of my own book back at me – yet somehow I don’t know what I’d do without her.

The unfriendly ghost

When I’m not well I go into misguided superhero mode. I don’t tell my friends things are hard because they have their own issues to deal with. I don’t answer their messages because I don’t know what to say. Instead of keeping them safe from worry about me though, what I’m really doing is ghosting them, which is actually a pretty shitty way to treat a friend. A message saying “hey, I’m struggling a bit and not feeling particularly social but I’m fine. It’s nothing to do with you” isn’t actually that hard and it helps so much.

So instead of not writing about Mental Health Awareness Week this year because I’m not feeling super mentally healthy, this is my public version of that email.

This is the year I am going to quit being a giant hypocrite. Hi, I’m Anna Kirtlan and this Mental Health Awareness Week I am struggling with my mental health.

We all have mental health

One of the things I really like about this year’s Mental Health Awareness Week material is that it opens with the phrase ‘we all have mental health’. It says that mental health is something everyone has, a taonga that we should look after.

It’s so refreshing in a world where people still talk about “mental health” and “mental health issues” in unspoken air quotes and low whispers. Instead it says mental health is a thing we all have. Sometimes it’s good and sometimes it’s not so good.

People don’t talk about “physical health issues” like they are something unpleasant you wouldn’t want granny overhearing, so why should we do the same with our hearts and minds? It’s health, pure and simple, and we need to look after our health – all of it.

My mental health comes around to bite me on the butt when I’m not looking after it sometimes. I also hold down a full time job, have a great friends and family and am growing my writing career. It’s not always easy for me or the people around me, and I don’t always get it right, but I’m doing it. It’s a learning curve the whole time and right now what I am learning is not to be ashamed when things are tough, especially when I make a point of telling others not to be!

Dealing with sabre toothed tigers

This time round for me, and for a lot of New Zealand to be fair, the particular head weasel (a term I picked up from some awesome writer friends) is anxiety.

It isn’t always easy to spot when someone is anxious or having an anxiety attack. It’s not necessarily hyperventilating and shaking and clammy hands and darting eyes – though sometimes it definitely is. Instead it can be more subtle.

I’m sure by now many of you will have heard of the fight or flight response. Where our brains throw back to the days when it actually wasn’t that unusual to find ourselves being chased by sabre toothed tigers.

The choices you had were pretty much turn around and beat the tiger up or get the hell out of Dodge. Unfortunately, for quite a few of us, our brains didn’t get the memo that there aren’t so many sharp-toothed beasties roaming the streets and eyeing us up for lunch anymore. And sometimes the DANGER DANGER synapses fire up for what appears to be no good reason.

When this happens to me I tend to default to ‘fight’. My heart rate goes through the ceiling, I start talking loudly and aggressively at a million miles a minute and my nerves are fire. If someone sits too close to me when I’m in that state it takes every ounce of my self-control not to physically shove them away from me. So far I haven’t swatted anyone, but it’s not easy to be around that, I know.

The third F

What I wasn’t aware of until this year was that there is a third F in our throwback brain wiring – fight, flight or freeze. Going back to our sabre toothed friend, the freeze reaction would be when we don’t move a muscle and hope Bitey McBiteface doesn’t notice us.

Without the actual tiger this feels more like numbness. When you are finally so overwhelmed you feel nothing at all. It was peak Rona stress, when it seemed like bad things were happening to good people everywhere, all the time, that I learned I was experiencing this one. I rushed off to my therapist convinced I was either sliding into depression or becoming a monster. Whenever something horrible or stressful happened, when people around me were clearly struggling, I felt nothing. Where there should have been sympathy or empathy and concern and the desire to help fix the problem, there was numbness, paralysis – zilch. Surprise! That turned out to be anxiety too.

Instead of the usual million miles a minute, punch the tiger in the nose trick my brain usually did, my prefrontal cortex just noped right out of the whole equation. I wasn’t depressed, I wasn’t a monster, I did care. I was just overwhelmed. I was standing behind a tree, frozen in fear and hoping the monster didn’t notice me. Learning that was a massive relief.

Do what works for you

I am most certainly not a mental health expert so please take everything I say with a grain of salt and don’t use it in the place of professional advice. Different things work for different people, so all I can share is what works and what doesn’t for me.

Medication and therapy work for me. Inspirational quotes and positive affirmations don’t. It may be the exact opposite for others. Exercise works for a lot of people. It does for me, but I have to get my brain space fixed first before I have the energy to do it.

So these top tips are based entirely on me. You do what works for you.

  • Don’t be ashamed if you need to take medication and don’t suddenly stop taking it because you are feeling better. I have done both of these things. Neither ended well. You wouldn’t be ashamed about taking medication because your blood pressure was up or down and you certainly wouldn’t stop taking it (I hope) without talking to your doctor because your blood pressure was back to normal. This doesn’t work any differently when you are dealing with serotonin.
  • Therapy isn’t for everyone, but if you think it might work for you, don’t give up if you get a bung one first time round. Trust me, I’ve had some howlers over the years. I had one tell me all I needed to do was look in the mirror daily and tell myself I was “a beautiful person” and another say I wasn’t going to get better if I didn’t stop using humour as a defense mechanism. Yet another told me Covering Things Up with Humour is Bad counsellor was full of it and that my humour defense had kept me going so far. It was a perfectly legitimate coping strategy – but perhaps I should work on some others. I now have an amazing therapist who challenges me and supports me and doesn’t take any crap from me. She keeps me on the level and I never would have come across her if I had given up after the first time someone waved a crystal at me. I do realise I am saying this from an enormous position of privilege in that I can afford to pay to see someone however. I know access isn’t easy for everyone and going into why this is so unbelievably wrong would take a whole new blog. For the avoidance of doubt though, I believe everyone in New Zealand should have affordable, accessible mental health support and we need to do more in this country to make this a reality, especially now.
  • Remember you are not alone in going through this. For some of us 2020 has been an ‘oh no, here we go again’. For others it has been the first time their mental health has kicked their butt and it is new and scary. Either way you’re not doing this alone. There are weeks like this to remind us that we all have mental health and there is help and resources available all year round (see below).

You can find Mental Health Awareness Week resources at www.mhaw.nz/

Need to talk?

  • Free call or text 1737 any time for support from a trained counsellor.
  • Lifeline 0800 543 354 (0800 LIFELINE).
  • Youthline 0800 376 633, free text 234 or email talk@youthline.co.nz or online chat.
  • Samaritans 0800 726 666.
  • Suicide Crisis Helpline – 0508 828 865 (0508 TAUTOKO)
  • Depression and Anxiety Helpline – 0800 111 757 or free text 4202

    

   

The case of the disappearing teeth

When I look back on it, my mental health blogs seem to jump from ‘bugger I’m bonkers again’ to ‘yay I’m better!’ with nothing much in-between.

That’s because in-between isn’t much fun, and writing when you are in-between is not an easy thing to do. But it’s probably the most important time to write, because in-between is the time that people need to hear that what they are going through happens to us all. That the ups will eventually stick around longer and the downs won’t last forever. I think we have a tendency to block out the in-between when we start feeling better because we don’t want to focus on the crap stuff. So we don’t write about it and we don’t talk about it.

So my blog for this year’s Mental Health Awareness Week (which kicks off tommorrow) is about what in-between being sick and being well looks like for me.

Why do I feel sad? I’m better dammit!

In-between is having an awesome, productive weekend where you do all the things that seemed so insurmountable for so long. You mow the lawns and remember how much you love spending time in the garden. You tidy your room and hang up those pictures that have been gathering dust. You feel successful and, for the first time in a long time, really happy.

In-between is coming home the next day and crying your face off because you have felt sick and sad and anxious all day and you shouldn’t be feeling that way because you are better now dammit.

Poor, long-suffering Paddy says getting better isn’t a straight path, it’s a continuum. And he’s right. When you start to see little glimpses of sunshine you take it so much harder when it starts to cloud over again.  But the sun is still there and eventually it will stick around longer and longer.

Okay, who stole my teeth?

In-between for me this time was also finding out how much damage my anxiety had done to my body. It was going to the dentist to have a filling replaced and finding I had anxiety-clenched my teeth so hard, for so long, I had ground down the enamel so far you could almost see the nerves.

It was also having to be a grownup and working out a payment plan so I didn’t have to sell a kidney to get it fixed.

Funnily enough, I had actually noticed in a couple of pictures friends had posted online that I seemed to have a weird gap in my teeth when I smiled. I remember thinking ‘that’s odd. I don’t have a gap there’ – not after all the money, time and trauma my parents went through getting me braces as a teen.

Then the dentist broke the news to me.

“You have the mouth of an 80 year old,” he said.

“What?!” I spat.

“Well, maybe a 70 year old…”

“Dude, that’s not much better!”

It turned out he was talking about wear. I had done about 80 years worth of wear and tear to 37 years worth of teeth.

Yeah alright, it was me. 

After the initial shock, I wasn’t actually surprised. I most likely grind my teeth in my sleep, and I have experimented with sleeping with a mouthguard before, but the real issue was during the day. When my anxiety was up I could judge how tense and jumpy I had been by how much pain my jaw was in by the end of the day. I wouldn’t even realise I was clenching my teeth until I unclenched them. My jaw would pop and my back teeth would be stuck together like glue.

It was actually one of the first signs for me that the new medication was starting to work. I would get to the end of the day and think – ‘hey! My jaw doesn’t hurt!’

So while I wasn’t exactly surprised, I was rather shocked that something that was going on in my brain could do that much damage to my body without me realising it. (I may have had a minor meltdown over that, but seriously, who wouldn’t?)

Goodnight, sleep tight – don’t let the tooth monster bite!

The next step was, what to do? Leaving it was an option – for six months or so anyway, much longer though and it would be the difference between $3000 for building up what was there and $50,000 for getting crowns on everything.

I decided to rip the bandaid off. I knew that if I put it off I would just keep putting it off. There was a psychological component to it too. What’s more symbolic of getting better than taking a ragged, crumbling, anxiety mouth and giving it a proper smile again?

So I booked in to get some scans and moulds made. When I saw the mould of my mouth I was horrified. It looked like something parents would use to scare their children. It turns out I had ground several millimeters from both the top and bottom of my front teeth. I needed nine teeth built up with the equivalent of 11 fillings worth of schmoo.

Ahhh! Run away!!

They probably aren’t lined up exactly right as I was balancing them on a chair in the dentist’s waiting room while taking the pic, but you get the idea.

New gnashers!

It all happened quite quickly. A week after seeing the funhouse horror moulds I was in the dentist’s chair having scaffolding put on my teeth. Two hours in the dentist’s chair later (no fun drugs, just lots of injections) and I pretty much had a new set of gnashers.

It was actually a fairly painless process, the crick I got in my neck was the worst of it really. Hearing comments to the dental assistant like ‘look at all the wear there’ and ‘have you seen many procedures like this before?’ and learning that one of my front teeth was actually loose from all the pressure I’d put on it was a little more traumatic.

The dentist looked pretty proud of his work and he had every right to be. I thought I looked like a whole different person. He said I looked younger but he would – I was paying three grand and he had that ‘mouth of an 80 year old’ line to make up for!

I’m pretty happy with it though and think it’s an awesome symbol that things are getting better.

New gnashers

It does feel rather strange though, like I have someone else’s teeth. I tried to bite my nails the other day and I actually physically couldn’t. Maybe after all these years I might be able to quit that habit!

Four weeks of schmoo

The only drawback now  is that for the next few weeks I am pretty much on a diet of mush until things settle down. So for me in-between is now soup and smoothies and sneaky KFC potato and gravy – but it will be worth it to have my smile back.

I have also developed a whole new respect for people on special diets. I got my teeth done just before a big work conference that involved catered meals. Everyone was fascinated when my dinner looked different to theirs and I got the third degree. By the end of three days my answers ranged from ‘I have new teeth and can’t eat solids’ to ‘I anxiety clenched my teeth to oblivion, please leave me alone to eat my schmoo’ – I seriously couldn’t do that all the time.

I love my new chompers though, and they are helping me in more ways than one. When I have a rough day and (as Paddy so eloquently puts it) ‘the black dog takes a dump on my brain’ I can look in the mirror and see that no matter how ratty things get, they can be fixed. It won’t be an easy fix, it could be the equivalent of four weeks of eating slush, but there is a fix there. In-between sucks, but it’s exactly that, in-between. You will come out the other side, potentially with a whole new smile (even if it’s one held together by plastic and dental goop).

Mental Health Foundation fundraiser

As always, and especially this week, 50% of paperback sales of Starboard the book go to the NZ Mental Health Foundation. Depending on how financial you are feeling you can either pay $20 and donate $10 here

Or take advantage of the sale price and pay $10 and donate $5 here

Free postage in NZ. If you are overseas just drop me a line at whichwayisstarboardagain@gmail.com and I’ll investigate postage costs.

Where to get help if you need it (in NZ): 

Need to talk? Free call or text 1737 any time for support from a trained counsellor

Lifeline – 0800 543 354 (0800 LIFELINE) or free text 4357 (HELP)

Suicide Crisis Helpline – 0508 828 865 (0508 TAUTOKO)

Healthline – 0800 611 116

Samaritans – 0800 726 666

The Mental Health Foundation of New Zealand also has a great list of specialist helplines which you can find here:

Mental Health Foundation of New Zealand helplines (mentalhealth.org.nz) 

Getting back to nature – whatever it throws at you

This year’s mental health awareness week’s theme is Nature is key – which would be great if nature wasn’t being so bastard cold at the moment *

(*When I started writing this blog Wellington was behaving awfully weather-wise. It has since bucked its ideas up but I can’t be naffed changing my intro or cover pic. Nice one Wellington – keep up the good work!)

In all seriousness though, they’ve put together some pretty cool material to remind people not to get buried in things and to look to nature to support mental health and wellbeing.

One of the things they have produced is a  little green N sticker to put over the N on your keyboard to remind you to take a break and go hang out with the grass and woodland critters. It’s a great idea in theory, but I’m a bit of a keyboard masher and N seems to be right in the firing line – so mine kind of looks like this now.

Sorry N key!

Hopefully it stops raining for long enough to go outside before I wipe it off the face of my keyboard. (See asterisk above).

It might seem a bit tree huggy, but there’s actually something in it all. When I’m having a hard time with anxiety, one of the best things I can do is just drop everything and go for a walk. Blowing out the cobwebs by moving is a great distraction when your brain is trying to eat itself. Going to the gym is great but sometimes you just can’t deal with other people – going for a walk around the harbour (even if it is head first into a gale force wind) can be much more healing.

I discovered the benefits of getting out and walking when my OCD was bad all those years ago. I would get to the point where I couldn’t stay still. I couldn’t stand still, I couldn’t sit down I just had to get out of where I was. Walking through botanical gardens, parks and along beaches saved me in a lot of ways and the friends and family who walked with me (when I was up to dealing with people) even more so.

Gardening is now one of my go-to’s (a genetic predisposition from my Mum). I can spend hours playing in the dirt, freeing plants from weeds and vines, talking with worms and helping things grow. It can be very zen in some ways but great when you are frustrated too. Sometimes the more violent the gardening the better. Hacking up blackberry and ripping out weeds by the roots can be exceptionally satisfying.

Blackberry slaying therapy

Getting away from the dirt – I guess, if you think about it, heading out to sea is about as close as you can get to nature. While it wasn’t always super relaxing – and at times rather traumatic -our trip around the South Pacific in Wildflower also provided me with some of the most peaceful moments oof my life. A night watch on a still night can be stunning. When there is nothing but sea, stars and fluorescent algae to keep you company, nothing but waves and the Milky Way, there is nothing more beautiful. It is one of my go-to images when I feel stressed out.

Speaking of images, the Mental Health Foundation also has a photo challenge going, which I am having a go at this year. You can check it out here:

Mental Health Awareness Week photo challenge

If you’d like to have a look at my pics you can find me on Instagram as Seamunchkin, @Seamunchkin on Twitter or check out the Which Way is Starboard Again? Facebook page. Let me know if you are taking part, I would love to see your photos too.

The best thing is you don’t have to be officially cray cray for this sort of thing to help. We all lead highly stressful lives in one way or another and sometimes we just need to be reminded that there is a world out there. That outside of that meeting you were in, that difficult class you  took  or that politician that annoyed you on the internet, there’s an ocean and stars and trees and flowers and dirt.

I’m not saying going outside will fix everything. If it did I would spend much more time out there than I do. Treating mental health is much more complex than that. It may involve  talking with people or in some cases, like mine, medication.

That’s why I get so mad when I see those stupid memes about how hugging a tree is better than medication. You know the ones – I’m not giving them the airtime of reposting. There is a great response by the wonderful mental health advocacy website The Mighty that I will share though:

To the Person Who Made a Meme Calling Depression Medication ‘Sh*t’

Like everything, it is all about balance.

So kudos to the NZ Mental Health Foundation for encouraging people to think about their brains as well as their bodies.

I know I bang on about it a lot but mental health support in this country needs so much more support than it gets. I am so glad it has finally become a political issue. It affects so many of us and we need to stand up for ourselves and each other and push it where we can.

In the meantime, if you have anything to spare, I highly suggest sending it the Mental Health Foundation’s way. They need all the support they can get.

As always, 50% of the profits from Starboard physical book sales are going to them so if you want something to read and a warm fuzzy feeling feel free to push the button below ($10 sale is still on)

Note: The super funky image at the top of this blog is called Rain and wind. It’s by jaci XIII, and was created for the Kreative People Challenge 59  CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Starboard Mental Health Foundation fundraiser

Short version for busy folk – 50% from Which Way is Starboard Again? book sales will now go to the New Zealand Mental Health Foundation – you can get it here for $19.99

Reading the stories generated by Mental Health Awareness Week has been both inspiring and depressing.

It has been inspiring to see the strength of those living with mental illness and speaking out about it to remove the stigma, and depressing to hear about the state New Zealand’s mental health system is now in – particularly for young people.

I was lucky enough to receive excellent support when diagnosed with OCD, anxiety and depression as a teen (20 years ago) through the 198 Youth Health Centre in Christchurch (now 298 Youth Health) and the Youth Specialty Services there. I read a story in the Sunday Star Times about a Ministry of Health target that 95% of youth referred to mental health services have their first treatment within eight weeks. Thousands assessed as ‘non urgent’ are waiting longer than that. I honestly don’t think I would be here (or at least who I am) if I had to wait that long.

I know there isn’t a huge amount one person can do to help. If I wasn’t certain I would take it all home with me I would retrain and join the mental health profession.

What I do have though is a book.

Which Way is Starboard Again? the book

A book about living with mental health issues and going outside your comfort zone. A book about bumbling around the South Pacific on a boat and the amazing people we met there. A book that people living with anxiety issues have told me made them smile (which is by far the best review I could ever hope for) and a book I hope I can use to raise a little bit of money and awareness for mental health services in New Zealand.

So I’m now working with the awesome people at New Zealand’s Mental Health Foundation to see if I can make that happen.

mhf-logo-2

From now on, from every copy of Which Way is Starboard Again? bought through me for $19.99 50% will go to the Mental Health Foundation.

You can buy them here

or if you don’t use PayPal just drop me a line at whichwayisstarboardagain@gmail.com and we can sort something out.

The Mental Health Foundation will also be selling the book through their website and I’ll share the link when I get it.

So if you are interested or know anyone else who might be – point them our way. We would love your support.

Basket case

Last mental health awareness week I recycled my coming out of the cray cray closet blog but a lot has happened between then and now so I think it’s time for a new one.

One of the drawbacks of writing a book about being a functioning nutbar is that it puts a whole lot of pressure on you to be exactly that.

You’ve just gone and revealed your biggest weakness to a bunch of strangers.You have told people they can get through it because you have gotten through it. You’ve told them you’re okay so you have to be okay. Otherwise you’re a big fat fraud.

The funny thing is I was okay. Everything was going great. I’d had a book published, I’d made my dream come true. I’d been getting all sorts of great feedback, I’d been in the paper and on the radio, I’d done a bit of public speaking. My life was full and busy, but it was full of good things. There was absolutely no excuse for my brain to break.

In hindsight the warning signs were there. Things had been going so well for so long that I had slipped back into bad habits, I was staying up too late, drinking far too much coffee and having energy drinks for breakfast. Then I was wondering why I wasn’t sleeping. I was permanently wired – jumpy, paranoid, clenching my teeth and counting on my fingertips (an old OCD habit). I was getting slack about remembering to take my meds.

It’s exhausting being on edge all the time. Eventually you are going to crack – and I did quite spectacularly.

It had been a great day. I’d caught up with some very dear friends who were visiting from overseas. It was lovely and sunny so we started the day with a boozy brunch and went from there. We ended up back on the boat that evening. We had a brilliant catch up and loads of fun. Then everyone went home – and I kept drinking (I’m not a big drinker so this is quite unusual for me). I had decided I wanted to turn my brain off and that was how I was going to do it. When Paddy tried to get me to stop I shut myself in the bathroom with a bottle of wine (again, this is not normal behavior for me).

The night ended with me lying on the floor of the boat screaming unintelligibly and refusing to move. It have been quite frightening for poor Paddy. Eventually I crawled into bed, freezing cold, and passed out.

No surprises that the next morning I felt awful. But it was a frighteningly familiar kind of awful – the thick, black hole in my stomach told me this was no ordinary hangover.

I spent the day alternating between feeling like my heart was going to pound out of my throat and just feeling leaden. I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to move. I felt empty and numb.

I finally had to admit it to myself – I was not okay.

I talked with Paddy, who had noticed I hadn’t been ‘present’ for a while. Like I was going through the motions but I wasn’t really there. It was such a relief to finally admit it.

It is so important to let people know when you are not okay, but it can be a massively hard thing to do. When I was a teen living with mental illness I didn’t know how to. I have a letter a friend wrote me when I was about 15 that I keep to remind me how important it is to communicate. It says “it’s like you are lying on the floor crying out in pain but not telling anyone where it hurts.” I couldn’t. I didn’t know how. But for the first time my friend got me thinking about how what was going on with me was affecting other people. I thought by bottling it up and keeping it to myself I was protecting my friends from having to deal with the mess in my head, what I didn’t realise was that what I was doing was even more frustrating and confusing. It took a long time and a lot of trial and error before I felt safe and comfortable sharing with people I cared about, but it was definitely the best thing for all of us.

So here I was admitting defeat and calling in the professionals. I called in sick at work the next day (one of the few times I have ever let myself do that for because of my mental illness) and visited my GP. I would have had no qualms taking the day off if I had the flu or a tummy bug but, despite my preaching in print, this was so much different. I couldn’t possibly show that kind of weakness, what if people thought I wasn’t going to be able to do my job?

There was no choice really. I had to go private. I could have gone into the public system but would have ended up on a waiting list – and when you are a sweating, shaking, twitchy mess, a waiting list just isn’t going to cut it. I was lucky,I could afford it. So many people can’t and that’s so wrong. I won’t start ranting about the state of our mental health system or I won’t stop, but I will say everyone needs access to this type of lifeline. There are good public services out there – they just need money and support so they are available to everyone, everywhere in the country.

My nerves about talking with my work about things proved utterly unfounded. They were great, and totally fine with me leaving an hour early once a week to take my brain in for a tuneup.

So I sat down with the head doc to see what we could do. We decided not to mess with the meds because they seemed to be doing their job, it was just me being rubbish about taking them. Instead we tried to unpack some things. We talked about what was going on in my life and every time I went down a new tangent she would gesture towards the carpet and mime putting something down. ‘Okay we’ll put this one in that basket and come back to it later. By the time we were done I was convinced she was going to run out of space on the floor for all the imaginary baskets.

“So basically you’re saying I’m a basket case then,” I dad-joked. This was to set the tone for most of my visits. We would talk about stuff, I would get uncomfortable and start cracking jokes. By session three she worked out we weren’t getting anywhere. Every time we scratched a surface I would throw walls up by trying to make her laugh.

In the end she said to me “you seem to have a real problem with having a mental illness”. I was outraged. “Don’t be ridiculous! I’ve written a book about having a mental illness, I tell people there is nothing to be ashamed of because, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. Of course I don’t have a problem with having a mental illness!”

But I had to be brutally honest with myself – I did. I had to be okay because I had told the world I was okay. I’d told everyone that battling with your own brain does not make you weak – but I wasn’t drinking my own Koolaid. Do as I say don’t do as I do. It’s okay not to be okay, but not for me.

Realising that was a turning point for me. I actually started working on things. We reached a natural conclusion where most of the baskets were empty or at least only part full. I was looking after myself, taking breathers, easing up on the coffee and booze and getting my medication levels up again.

I still get twitchy at times but I am on top of it now. I’m enjoying life and I’m healthy again.

I guess my messsage is- and it really is – it’s okay not to be okay. The busiest, toughest, most outspoken of us are all allowed not to be okay and realising you aren’t okay is the first step towards fixing it – no matter how many invisible baskets you have to use.

PS – this is not a recipe to follow for everyone by any means. Talk therapy works for some people and it doesn’t for others, medication works for some people and doesn’t for others, exercise, getting out in nature, eating and drinking healthy -it’s the same deal. I find a combination of all three – meds, talking and making time to get out and about works for me, but none work on their own. It’s a process of trial and error and whatever works for you is totally legitimate.