Take A Walk Outside

“Take a walk outside - it will serve you far more than pacing around in your mind.”

- Rasheed Ogunlaru

When I started dealing with my anxiety and depression my doctors said I needed to do something active. Joining a team sport or going to the gym didn't appeal to me in the slightest. For some reason I chose to try running. I'm so glad I did. I haven't always enjoyed running - when I first started it was really, really hard. I would run out of breath so quickly and my legs would feel weak. I would beat myself up if I had to stop - I wasn't just struggling with self esteem, my body was struggling too.

It started getting easier when I stopped setting goals. I used to run with an app that told me when to take a break and when to push harder. Now I don't care if I run the whole way or for just a few minutes. Just getting out and doing it feels good enough.

I knew being active would be good for my health but I don't think I could ever imagine how good it has been for my mind. When I run, my mind slows down. I still have thoughts pop in to distract my focus but I don't follow their stories for long. I think part of it is because I don't hold my usual high expectations. I'm not training to be marathon runner or trying to get a bikini body. There's no pressure to be the best. The only thing I have to do when I run, is run.

I want to be able to have that mindset when I do other things. When I eat, I want to just eat. Enjoy my food rather than eat it too quickly. When I talk to others, I want to listen properly and pay attention (I can't tell you how much I have missed because I wasn't all there). It takes a lot of reminding and remembering to do it but I know that when I practice being fully present, I can experience things without being distracted by past events or future worries.

And the best thing about running - I don't feel guilty when I eat an extra piece of chocolate!

The Beach

Have you ever been to the beach and just looked?
Just listened?
Felt what the sand feels like?
How cold and soothing the water can be?

The beach is the best place in the world. And there isn't just one.
There's hundreds.
Thousands.
How awesome is that?

I have a few favourite spots near home where I like to sit in my car and write while watching the waves or listening to the wind and the seagulls. It's so peaceful. It's so calming. It feels safe.

Lots of people enjoy going to the beach with friends, having a chilled out day and a BBQ for dinner. I don't like that so much. It takes my focus away from the beach and onto the people.

I'm so lucky that I still have such a child like wonder whenever I see the ocean. My favourite memories of any holiday or day trip are those when we would come up over a hill or a mountain and see the huge expansive ocean on the other side. Water for miles and miles.

The words would come out before I'd even realised. I couldn't hold the excitement in.
Sometimes now I stop myself.
Ok not sometimes. Nearly every time.

I hide the "wows" and stop my eyes from lighting up. Maybe thats the anxiety, maybe its just part of how I think adults are expected to be.

I'm not going to hold it in anymore. Not about the beach. The beach is my safe place. The beach is mine.

I wish I could paint well. If I could do that I would paint a beach.

After The Storm

I like the look of the water. I wish I could save the image in my head and be able to look at it whenever I want to. Not like just looking at a photo but actually being there.

Its so peaceful here. The tide is in. The waves are softly rolling. The wind is freezing but I'm warm in my car. There are thousands and thousands of small ripples on the surface. There are so many different shades of blue. I can see dark blue and light blue and if I look closer I see darker blues, lighter blues, green-blues and everything in between. Just when the waves are in a pattern that looks especially pretty, it all changes and starts again. Nothing ever begins. And nothing is ever final. I can see circles radiating outwards where birds are diving underwater. They shimmer in the light. Sometimes the wind picks up and the waves start to rise, sometimes the wind falls still, like a breath is being taken.

Its looks so effortless. It is so effortless.
Its just happening. Its just being.
I want to be like the ocean.

I like that when there's a storm, the waves are turbulent, violent, angry. They are harsh and destructive. But they are just waves. After the storm passes, everything calms down so quickly. It can happen in seconds. One moment there are waves pounding on the shoreline, white water being thrown up into the air, and then it is still. A sense of peace.

An ocean is just an ocean, whether its stormy, calm, high tide or low. I want to be able to say 'they are just thoughts' - positive, negative, judgemental or not, it doesn't have to define who I am.

Being able to accept. The storm happens, it does what it does. The wind calms down and the water slowly moves to and from the sand. Sometimes theres damage to the environment around the beach - the sand banks have moved, maybe trees have blown over in the wind - but the ocean isn't damaged. The ocean can just be.

When something doesn't go the way I expect it or want it to go, I'm often left feeling like the tree thats been blown over. I'm sure lots of people are. Maybe I've forgotten to do a job for someone or realised I've been judging myself negatively all day. I've gone through a storm and I'm left feeling like the trees and the sand. It takes a long time to fix what has been done. I'm not very good at forgiving myself, picking up the pieces and moving on to the next thing. I want to be like the ocean. Accept what has happened. Not by shrugging it off but by observing my thoughts, acknowledging them and saying its ok that they are there. And then go back to being the water. Going with the flow wherever it takes me.

A photo of my boy because he's bloody gorgeous. 

But while I love the ocean, he's absolutely terrified of water!

There Is So Much Going On

There is so much going on. 

I felt totally overwhelmed. The cafe was noisy and not just with sound. Four people were serving at three different tills - how was I supposed to know who to talk to? I could hear the harsh clanging of cups and plates being cleared off tables. The coffee grinder roared as it crushed fragrant beans. Customers bustled in and out of the entrance. Those already seated were slurping their drinks and chewing on crumbly treats. Some were distracted by their cellphones while others were talking loudly to their friends, competing with the rest of the noise. The mirrors along the walls didn't help in the slightest. Every detail I noticed was magnified and multiplied, adding to the busyness.

Even just a few weeks ago, maybe even days, I would have left that cafe before I'd even got through the door. Unless I had someone else with me to focus on, I would have latched on to the racing thoughts, letting them overpower me. Today though, I got to really put my mindfulness skills to the test. I could feel my heart starting to race so I concentrated on my feet. How did they feel sitting in my shoes? I described them to myself in as much detail as I could (in my head - otherwise I really would have looked crazy).

Grounding myself is something that has taken a lot of practice. I still have times when I am completely unable to do it but I got through my lunch at the cafe and managed to enjoy quite a lot of it. I am so proud that I could do that all on my own. My anxiety has never been so bad that I've wanted to stay inside all day but it has had a big impact on the way I behave in social situations. I'm so glad there are things I can do to really make some progress and live my life the way I want.

Driftwood

This is a short story I wrote over a few years. The first part I wrote when I was about 19. I then edited the story last year when I was 23 and added on the second half. Now 24, my story has been published on a website called Mental. Created by Liv Young, Mental is a growing collection of human stories that explore experiences and aspects of mental wellbeing in Aotearoa.

I felt like driftwood.

You'd always see bits of driftwood sitting on beaches amongst everything else. There might be a couple of broken seashells lying around, some seagulls squawking at each other. Sometimes you'd see dogs running up and down the coast, their owners frantically trying to catch up. But if you look hard enough, you'd always see driftwood. Even if it was just a couple of small branches, it was always there. Kind of nice looking, kind of not.

It smells salty (like the rest of the beach). It feels rough on some sides, smooth on others. It's just a piece of tree branch that is somewhere it shouldn't be. It's not part of a tree anymore, and doesn't really serve a purpose. Sure, some hippie guitar player might think it's 'rad', take it home to decorate his room or snap a photo for instagram. But at the end of the day, it just sits there, doing it's job of being 'driftwood', not really doing much else.

That is how I felt the first time I experienced it. It made sense, there was a reason I wasn't happy. I had just moved out of home, I wasn't enjoying what I was studying and I felt isolated from friends. Something wasn't great in life - so I wasn't very happy. To me that is a logical version of Depression.

This time it’s different. I don't feel like driftwood. I feel like the swell of water in the ocean. Waves crashing on the beach. I am the dog running running as fast as I can, depression snapping at my tail. A beach is only nice before you go out too deep and find yourself weighed down by all the water. Everything I'm doing seems perfect on the outside. Inside, my mind races around all day making lists of a hundred things. Some things are important - car WOF due on Tuesday, take guitar to school on Wednesday. And some are just stupid - fill up drink bottle, message friend on Facebook. I don't need a list for those things but before I even realise I've thought it, I've put it in a list. I spend most of my day going over the lists in my head, rewriting, reorganising. Doing anything to them to make more sense. I'm left with no time for me.

If depression wants to take over, maybe it just will. I can't stop the ocean swelling. I can't stop the waves crashing. I'm trying to control something that can't be controlled but I can't stop myself from trying.

A calm, beautiful beach. "You're so calm." Calm. I fucking hate that word.

Scones and Sparrows

I had been experiencing a lot of stress (mostly self inflicted) which was leading to a negative outlook on life, withdrawal from social situations and both hidden and outward panic attacks. I could feel myself slipping into depression. Along with taking medication, my doctors suggested attending an 8 week mindfulness programme. I was sceptical about participating - were the methods used backed by science? Or was it just a new age hippy trend? After talking to some people who had previously completed the programme, I decided that maybe it would be helpful. There was clear research that showed the physical changes in your brain that occur when practicing mindfulness. Maybe this was my way out.

After the first few weeks, the practice did the opposite of what I expected - the depression got worse and really took its toll on me. I think this is because I became really aware of my thoughts through the meditations. We were supposed to be observing our thoughts, not becoming caught up in their stories, but I wasn't in the right place to do that. My thoughts were confronting, confusing and downright terrifying. With the support of an incredible counsellor, I made it through the worst parts of those weeks, coming out the other side with a great sense of appreciation towards what the mindfulness had taught me. I chose to take some time off work because although I was feeling better each day I was utterly exhausted from the experience. I don't like having to justify why I took the time off. My doctor was all too eager to give me a medical certificate and if it were any other illness I would jump at the chance to rest. I find it interesting that even though I've experienced mental illness first hand, I too hold a stigma against it.

I still have so much to learn about being mindful and being kind to myself. Along with practicing on my own everyday, I'm going to attend the mindfulness course again in a few months which I'm really looking forward to. This time I won't be judgemental of my thoughts. I might still find them scary but I know that I will have the strength to observe my thoughts and accept them for what they are.

The following is an email I sent to the coordinator of the mindfulness programme on my first day of sick leave. I was sitting at a cafe eating a scone and watching some sparrows.

These birds are so beautiful I just have to tell you.

I've taken some time off work so I can have a long Easter break and really take time for myself. Its my first day off today and I was so anxious about it a few days ago.

But now I'm sitting at a cafe eating a delicious scone and watching some sparrows. I think for the first time in my life I'm actually 'at the cafe'.

This stuff works. It's changing my life.

Have a great day.

It doesn't really show much when you read it the first time but I'm actually quite emotional looking back. I know that sounds incredibly 'fluffy' and spiritual which is usually not like me at all, I was just so in awe of the calmness I was feeling. The skills I had learnt from practicing mindfulness were having an impact on my everyday life. When I say its the first time in my life I'm actually 'at the cafe' I'm referring to the idea that usually, my mind is elsewhere. I could be having the most delicious meal but I miss all the flavours, the smells and the experience. I'm so used to following my thoughts, thinking about the past or the future, that I miss out on what is happening right here and now in the present moment.