As some of you might know, as well as being a GP, I am a postdoctoral researcher trying desperately to balance work and life, and learn a little bit about this thing called “resilience”. For the past two years I have been researching Polycystic Ovary …
My family know that I am in no way a gardener; instead of having a green thumb, I seem to not be able to keep the least demanding plants alive. Until now. A few months ago, a good friend told me that I could plant …
Today, on World Mental Health Day, I am hoping everyone checks in on how they’re travelling. Are you waking up feeling energised and enthusiastic about the day ahead? Are you finding joy in the small things? Or do you wake in a panic, already drowning in a pool of dread about the insurmountable problems that make up your life?
If you’re doing the former, well done! You’ve clearly prioritised your mental health. If you’re the latter, welcome to the club. You’re not alone. That is actually a description of me, just a few months ago.
I’ve been honest about my mental health, partly because it’s therapeutic to write about, but increasingly because I see the need for people to put their hand up and say “I’m needing a little help right now”. It’s not ok in our Instagram-obsessed world to not be perfect, it seems. And to be really honest, most of us don’t have the time or space to seek help. We’re so busy just trying to survive the onslaught of the day.
The thing is, if you had a sore leg, or a funny rash, you would eventually go to see someone. You would walk in and say, “Doctor, I have a sore leg/funny rash. What’s causing it, and what can I do?” It’s a shame we are not as forthcoming with our mental health as we are with our acute physical health. It’s not like poor mental health doesn’t impact on our function – our ability to thrive, contribute meaningfully and joyfully, and be at peace. It does, and very much so.
I sought help. I went to my GP, found a Lovely Psychologist, and she helped me with my long standing anxiety. I’ve even recently graduated from therapy! And I no longer wake up in a pool of dread. I find joy in very, very, small things. Just the other day, when I was replacing the toilet paper – joy. In the smallest of things…
Who knew toilet paper could bring so much joy. Not me.
*One thing is, when you ask for help, please go to the right people. While there are many excellent allied health professionals and complementary therapists, who may understand many aspects of mental health, and are often wonderful team members, treating people with mental health problems like depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia and other psychotic disorders usually also needs expertise within general practice, psychology and often psychiatry. You may also need screening for physical disorders that can impact on mental health. I won’t go into how woefully underfunded mental health services can be, as that’s another story. *
Here are three things that I hope people will understand about asking for help. First, it’s not a sign of weakness, it’s a sign of immense courage. The courage to be vulnerable, as this lady would say.
The indomitable Brene. If you haven’t heard of her you may have been living under a rock
In Japan, broken pottery is repaired with gold. Each piece is considered beautiful because of its’ flaws.
Also – this from Leonard Cohen.
I hope you ask for help this week, if you are needing it. If you’re not yourself, if the wheels have fallen off, if something’s just not right. You are not alone. I hope my story illustrates that a little.
And that you start to let some of the light in. x
If you are feeling suicidal please seek immediate help from a trained mental health professional. Your GP, hospital, or Lifeline (131144) can help.
A very dear friend, whom I consider to be one of the wisest and kindest in the world, said these words yesterday and I could not agree more with her. The other amazing thing is that she said this in front of a group of …
When you were babies and I went back to work and a PhD, it was all about you. I worried that you may be somehow compromised by having a mother who left you on some days of the week to pursue a career. This was …
I’ve been on a journey to discover how to be happier for some years now. Initially it was pretty vague, but as the stressful events in my life ramped up, it took on a great deal more focus. Funny how that happens.
Happiness research has similarly taken off in the past decade or two, and I won’t attempt to be an expert on this. You can go wild reading the excellent work of other people who are experts in happiness. Some of my favourites are Sonja Lyubomirsky, and Dan Buettner who researches the Blue Zones. There are loads of others – I hope you read them all!
What I am an expert on is how I gradually learned how to happy. Yes, not how to be happy, but how to actively create happiness in my life. Happiness has not been a state that descended upon me from the Gods because of a lucky day or positive external events. It’s been a constant striving, continual learning, repeatedly picking myself up off the floor and putting one foot in front of the other type of journey. A bit like life! So that’s why I think of happy as a verb. To me, happy is a doing thing.
Also, for me, happy went in stages. I couldn’t incorporate the other happy things before the first few happy things. There are loads of ways to boost your mood but until you go back to the very basic, dirty, grubby, boring bits, the very foundation of how you think about yourself, I believe the other happy things will just float off like the proverbial water off a duck’s back.
So here was my very first Happy step: Being Kind (Or Gentle) To Myself.
I have written before about Impostor Syndrome. When I realised I had Impostor Syndrome, when it was verbalised for me, it was a revelation. That was many years ago. I worked with my Lovely Psychologist on many things not the least being Impostor Syndrome and the Voice In My Head. Do you know that voice? “You’re not good enough” “you don’t belong here” “You’re stupid” “You don’t know anything” “one day they will find out”.
One early morning, as I walked to the bus stop, thoughts swirling round my head in the usual ruminating pattern, I suddenly stopped and had an epiphany. I was creating my own prison. Nobody was keeping me in this unhappy, miserable state except for me! I felt like slapping myself. Except, I didn’t. I started treating myself as I would a very dear friend. Sometimes you want to slap that friend for the things they do. We’re so close to them that we can see everything, the good and the bad. But we don’t slap them, not physically at least. We might gently say to them that they’re being completely silly and suggest another way forward. We laugh with them. We cry with them. We sit quietly and listen. We’re gentle. We’re supportive. We hold their hand and say, I’m here with you.
The thing is, I wasn’t being there for myself.
Gradually, as I became kinder to myself, the Voice In My Head went away. First it was quieter. Then it disappeared. It pops up from time to time. I’m learning to notice it rather than give in to it. I notice how my heart starts to race (not in a good way) when the Voice talks to me. After the episode when the Voice appeared, I reflect on what happened. Why did it appear? what was going on? How can I do better next time? And most importantly, I don’t berate myself about how I behaved when the Voice took over. I was nervous. I said the wrong thing. I reacted. etc. No big deal! I noticed the Voice and gradually I’ll be able to manage it even if I’m in an important meeting or having a crucial interpersonal event.
I now tell all my patients that they have to be kind to themselves. Start with kindness. If you can’t be kind, at least be neutral. Everyone can at least hold their tongue, to themselves. Notice the things you did well. Be honest when you stuffed up – everyone does. Then move on. No big deal. You can try again.Kristin Neff is a self-compassion expert – I recommend you read what she’s written too.
So there you go. That was my first happy step. There will be more to come!I’d love to learn about your happy steps. Happiness is a personal journey, and what works for me may not be as important for you. Please comment below! x
Try not to complain about getting old. Many will not get the same privilege. Try not to complain about having to see your family at Christmas. Many will be extremely lonely with little human connection. Try not to complain about your …
Happy New Year! I generally enjoy the opportunity to reflect as the years tick over. But one of my pet peeves are the messages that come screaming out in abundance on Jan 1. “New Year New You!” or even worse – “Get a new body for …
You may have heard about a tidying-up phenomenon known as Marie Kondo. Marie is a Japanese lady who wrote a book about throwing away things that don’t “spark joy“, and rolling up your socks so you can have a pristine sock drawer. I have to confess I am not a Kondo convert and I doubt I will ever be, even though the state of my sock drawer suggests that I probably should. But I want to tell you about another way to change your life. And it does involve sparking joy.
Marie Kondo is the pioneer of inspiring people to “choose joy and complete their tidying adventures”. Bless her.
Some five months ago or more I decided to introduce one new positive habit a week. Simple things. Drink more water. Go to bed early. Do ten pushups in the morning. And practise gratitude. I stopped doing the pushups recently, but gratitude has changed my life.
Instead of saying “I’m grateful for…” (which sounded a bit naff to me) I started with “Thank you for…” At first it was hard. I did this first thing in the morning as I opened my eyes. I couldn’t find much to be thankful for initially. My job was stressful, I felt overwhelmed constantly and the mornings were dark and laden with the promise of dragging kids out of bed, sheperding them through breakfast, getting ready for school, finding hats and jumpers and water bottles and signing excursion permission slips. I groaned in anticipation.
As a GP I’ve seen a bit more of what life can do to a person. I’ve cared for people with MS, people dying from brain tumours and all kinds of debilitating cancers, with traumatic brain injuries. I had a patient who was born with no eyes. Others were born without legs or arms. Some were paralysed in accidents. I’ve looked into the eyes of people with advanced motorneurone disease and seen fatigue, desperation, or sometimes, acceptance.
So I started with what I was familiar with. “Thank you for my legs that work,” I said, wiggling my toes. “Thank you for my eyes that can see,” I said, looking at the ceiling. And then I wondered what it would be like not to see my children every morning. Or not be able to pick them up when they needed me. Or if I had been given six months to live and my children would be left motherless. And then I got out of bed and got on with the day.
It went on like this for months. Always starting with the physical. Then something amazing happened. I started to be grateful at other times of the day. Spontaneous gratitude for simple moments like seeing a sunrise. Walking. Hearing the chirping conversations between my two gorgeous children. A warm hug at night. A welcoming house, lights on and children’s laughter wafting out, as I came home after a long day. Beach days. A smile from a stranger. Getting a seat on the bus. Walking down a peaceful street without being caught in a civilian war. Stretching. At these really simple everyday moments I found myself stopping to cherish the sweetness of being alive. I’m still here. Still kicking goals. Still got another day on this Earth – what a gift!
Gratitude has given me the ability to let go of my rumination and not get caught up in negative spirals. Gratitude has given me the gift of mindfulness as well – I am attentive to the little joys. I find myself noticing a lot. A tiny bird in a tree. Pink clouds draped across the sky. The perfect grin on my five year old. I’m also able to get going on difficult days like today. It was raining buckets in Sydney and I had to walk to the bus stop. I was super grateful for the Wellington boots that kept my feet dry, to my cousin for suggesting the Wellington boots. And that kept me going through the wet walk when on other days I would have been fuming about the rain and arrived at the bus stop in a foul mood.
It won’t change your life overnight, but things will start to change with a simple daily practice. Wishing you plenty of joy, and hopefully, neat socks too. x
Recently I took some time off during the school holidays. We woke up late. We went cycling and rollerblading a lot. We had leisurely lunches and long walks. It was beautiful weather and the days seemed to stretch on forever, filled with wonderful things like …