How To Go About Getting Shit Done

It has been noticed and noted that having a routine is particularly helpful for me in terms of day to day functioning. Within that routine I have techniques that I used to get out of the house on time, to get out of the house at all and to get things done that need to be done, or I want to be done. They are methods and techniques I have quite frankly, made up, over the years. Very little of it is backed by any particular therapy I have completed, or any particular method that I know of being researched. I’ve just made it up via trial and error, and finally, I found some methods that work for me for now.

Since being away for just over a week, and having been away a few times over the summer break, I have fallen out of the routines and habits that have a sole purpose of getting shit done. My sense of routine has slipped, and this could spell the start of a downward spiral. Already I am finding myself not going out when I want to, not getting to places and getting a lot of fuck all done for a stretch of time. I am going to view this as an opportunity to re-install and maybe update my go to methods of made up-ness that get me by. 

It’s nothing major. I wouldn’t call it the begginning of an episode or anything like that. I am just currently out of sync. I just need to re-install these techniques and methods into my daily get go, switch myself off and reboot myself. The grand old ‘have you tried switching it off and on’ is basically me at the moment. 


The main initial hurdle is remembering what my techniques were. This may sound odd, but many of them were starting to become just how I do things and therefore requiring very little in terms of conscious thought. I haven’t even written most of them down, then again we all have our own ways right?

So I’m here, racking my brain for the, ‘how was I doing that before?’ answers, and the, ‘what was I doing and not doing?’. I have missed running crew due to scrolling social media right when I need to be leaving for example. It seems obvious to not do that when you need to leave the house, but it is something I need to constantly be aware of and reign in.

Hacks that involve not doing this kind of stuff are really what the following 10 ideas are about. The 10 methods listed are geared towards achieving a sense of contentment and purpose within my daily activities, and how to get myself to do stuff I want to do really, but maybe want to quit also because I’m tired, or anxious. So here goes:

  1. Don’t browse Facebook or any form of social media when I’m supposed to be doing stuff or getting ready to leave the house. Instead, browse when there really is nothing else to do: whilst travelling from a to b, or waiting for appointments, or avoiding social interactions for example.Keep social media for filler time, rather than I could and would rather be doing stuff time. Or the, I ought to be but I’m not kind of time.
  2. Leave too early for places rather than cutting it fine. You have 10 minutes for the train? Wait it out on the platform rather than from the comfort of your own home. That way, you won’t miss it and the 10 minutes waiting is still 10 minutes waiting. 
  3. Not feeling like doing your training run? Set a final time in your mind of when you will leave for your run. Plan a time and if you need to envision it slightly, do that too. Get out the house and just do it.If it really feels awful and today isn’t a running day you can cut it short. It is better to make this decision having tried rather than before any real effort has been made. That way you know you tried and haven’t given up or let yourself down without an effort.
  4. To Do lists on relatively empty days can fill them up with structure and achieve a sense of purpose from having done something. Include things you ought to do, i.e. chores, washing, dishes, and some things you want to do, i.e. reading, Playstation, Netflix. Really keep it varied between ought to’s and would like to’s.
  5. Check your Filofax in the evening, and plan the next morning if you need to. Also, keep it open and around because this is where you write everything you intended to remember, and you quickly forget when it isn’t open or to hand.It is basically my memory and planning all in one place, it’s a pretty useful tool to keep to hand.
  6. Meal planning.This makes sure you buy food you want to eat as well as making healthier choices. It also cuts the cost of food down, which is quite useful because then you have more pennies for the fun stuff, like the pub, or climbing or buying more stationary because, well… stationary.
  7. Rest when you need to rest. Push on when you need an extra kick to get on with things and learn to tell the difference between the two situations.
  8. Be mindful of your feelings so you can gauge how you are in general. Let emotions happen. Allow your feelings, the good and the bad.When you think your feelings are becoming disproportionate, take some time and space to gather yourself together again.
  9. Nap if you need to, and set an alarm to go off within 30-90 minutes depending on tiredness. Don’t exceed 90 minutes, and preferably keep it under 60 if you can. It is better to rest and refresh than to push on and crash, or risk mood instability due to tiredness.
  10. Be compassionate with yourself. It’s OK to go slowly. It’s OK to stop and rest. Be kind to yourself and others. Don’t quit. Keep on plodding, no matter how slowly, towards spending time doing the things you want to spend time doing, whether that’s studying, reading, learning music, being creative, making crafts, spending time with others.Whatever makes you feel whole and fulfilled is a worthwhile way to spend your time, even if that means watching TV or making art no one else will see. Recharge and be true to yourself.

Most of all, an overarching consideration is who are you doing it all for? Do it for yourself. Do it to feel good within yourself and about yourself. Aim to please yourself first and foremost. If you’re doing it entirely for the sake of others and it’s draining or taxing for you, or you’re not getting anything from doing that whatever it is for someone else, then stop. The most important opinion of you that matters is your own.


I realise I have veered from first person but writing to myself from myself in this way will hopefully provide me with a list of instructions to refer to as I build my stamina for doing things effectively again. Fortunately, once I am back from Berlin there are no more trips in the foreseeable future, and I’m going to keep it that way. 

 

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Meeting The Forgotten Me 

I have noticed something new about myself lately. It is something I remember noticing as a teenager during a good patch and had since forgotten about. When at 17 I sat in my sunken sponge chair opposite my therapist I shared my revelation, “I have started thinking?” She was the only constant figure during my teen years that I could rely on to make me feel secure, safe and validated, “what do you mean?””I have thoughts. I have realised I’ve started thinking, having time and having energy to think about stuff other than food, calories, weight, bingeing and purging. I think again. I can think”


It was new territory for me. I had forgotten about this and the significance of it until just the other day when I realised again, that for the first time in a long time I’ve been thinking. This doesn’t mean I haven’t been thinking for the past decade, it means that I have been less pre-occupied with trying to function, trying to organise my self whilst navigating the disarray of my mind, my symptoms and mood swings. Dare I say it but I think my current dosage of medication may be working. I am able to get up each morning, shower, dress, eat and move without it occupying too much thought or energy. I am more able than I have been in a long time. 

No longer am I a puzzle to be solved, a life that needs immense management in order to get anything done or maintenance semblance of control. I am by no means solved, my illness by no means cured. I am just more functional than I have been. With this saved energy from just barely functioning and surviving I have time, energy and room in my mind to actually think on a broader spectrum than before. I am now capable of thinking beyond my anxieties and hinderences. I can think beyond myself and managing myself in my immediate existence. 


I have noticed a curiosity to know beyond me and solving the complex puzzle my mind presents to me. I have lists of goals, activities, questions I want to research the answers to. I am not exhausted by just breathing and existing. I have energy, concentration and an urge to know more than I do. I want to learn the ukelele more and the saxophone. I want to read through a list of books I’ve been meaning to read for years. I want to develop my german beyond my age old GCSE and I want to know about the stars and galaxies. I want to research about nutrition, science and medicine beyond the bare minimum that my degree necessitates: what are the effects of dietary supplements on epilepsy? How does the ketone diet work for epilepsy? How exactly and why do psychiatric medications affect metabolism? How exactly does diet affect mental health? Which components affect what? What are the different star constellations? How is food used as medicine? Does a higher concentration of salt in sea water make me float more? And so on. 

I wonder. The curiosity of my mind has returned and once again, for the first time since I can remember I am thinking, asking questions and have a thirst for knowledge. This is me. I feel like I am becoming more me. Not the crazy long term mental health patient me. Not the bulimic me or the anorexic me. Not the over the top me or the distant dissociated me. Not the emotionally unstable me consumed by moodiness/euphoria or that sadness that people may think of when they think of me, depending on at which stage of mood swing that we met. 

The real me. The striving for something with a purpose me. The passion to know and share what I know me. The sometimes creative and always curious me. The me of ideas to write about for hours at a time and the concentration and thought organisation to do so. This is the real me. This is the me I know, knew before, the me that very few others know. This is the me I lost and forgot to being unwell and at mercy to my symptoms and their toll on my life. 

I had lost myself so much that I no longer noticed that I wasn’t me. I have had identity disturbance whacked on my list of symptoms in assessments. Is it really any surprise? I had forgotten that it was possible to think beyond myself in this way. It seems terribly self obsessed but being tyrannized to such violent symptoms of mental illness and mood swings that you’re entirely disabled in living any form of life resembling almost normal even is absorbing. Getting up and doing shit on a daily basis can be overwhelming and for a while you know it’s not normal, it is easy to forget normal. People say there is no ‘normal’ but there definitely is ‘abnormal’. 

Feeling abnormal in every aspect of your life and being incapable as a result leads to either a loss of hope in surrendering to it, or an all absorbing fight to at least stop being quite as abnormal. I’ve made a lot of changes in my life in an attempt to get better and I still haven’t felt ‘right’ for a very long time. I started exercising and returned to studying during this attempt to fit back into society in some way. I wasn’t convinced I could find a place to slot into the world so I started to chisel and carve a way to make myself fit into the world in a space  I made for myself. I achieved a few things during this time but achieving them and managing still felt like a ridiculous amount of mental effort. 

I had even forgotten that my normal was considered abnormal until visitors on the ward I was on last month were looking around wide eyed at this environment they had never witnessed before. I remembered the first time I stepped on to the same ward – it hasn’t changed in 7 years – and realised that my normal was still abnormal, and not in a good way. I’ve been confronted about normalising my illness and experience, of downplaying it as being normal when really some of my experiences are very abnormal and stressful for others. I forget. I haven’t known anything much else for a long time. 

The difference is that I am technically not doing anything different. I havent made any drastic changes to my approach and techniques for getting through the day. The difference I am experiencing feels beyond behaviour change; I think it is the medication increase. I think for as many issues the medication can and does cause – I am willing to pay a hefty price for the ability to think, do and function better than I have done in years, if not ever. 


I am starting to re-realise who and what I am. I am getting to know myself again, the real me: the me who thinks, the me who writes and reads, the curious me. I am not sure exactly how long I’ve been gone for but I know it’s felt like an absolute age and definitely too long. I think I might be back and I like what it feels like to be me again, the real me. 

Rules To Live By In Numbers 

I am on holiday. Some people they may ask, ‘from what?’; I don’t work but I do study, part-time. I have been off from university for 2 months now, surely that counts as a holiday? I’m going to say no, not really. Firstly, I spent  ~a month of that time being unwell with the dysphoric hurricane of hypomania. I went in hospital and had my meds increased. I have since spent time trying to find my feet.

Although I’m not having a holiday from working, I am having a holiday, but what from?  I am having a holiday from being surrounded by mental illness. I live in a specialist supported accommodation which means there is no escaping mental illness at home because someone is always unwell, everyone is on meds and we talk about it amongst ourselves. There are no awkward questions about mental health because we all live there for a similar category of reasons. Also you’re constantly having to answer questions and attend assessments for how well, or not you are doing. Whilst here I have to keep taking my meds twice a day, and I need to use DBT skills to keep my emotional expressions proportional, and I have to take care in the heat because of my meds – there is no holiday from yourself after all – I am kind of taking a holiday from mental illness.

I am taking a holiday from appointments, seeing my social worker, psychiatrist and support workers. Whilst they provide me with a lot of support and access to specialist mental health care, it’s nice to not be talking about symptoms, side effects and how am I really so much of the time. I am taking a holiday away from the bubble I live my life in at home. I am exposing myself to new and unfamiliar territory. At the same time I’m staring anxiety in the face as I gain confidence with new experiences.


I’m taking a holiday from living well within the borderlands of self-imposed restrictions. I am taking a holiday from documenting habit trackers and mood charts. I could stop forever at any time but they are an important tool for my overall well-being, awareness and insight. Taking a week out to just be, live and experience is quite the luxury and a welcome break. This can only be done when I am relatively well and stable: which I am at the moment. This is as much of a break from myself I think it is possible to fathom.

Finally, I am taking a holiday from numbers. Numbers have played a significant role in my life for over a decade: calories in and out, body weight, body fat %, muscle mass, weighing food portions and the numerical data from my FitBit that I try to make perfect: steps, calories burned, hours slept, minutes of restlessness and wakefulness during sleep, heart rate, minutes of activity and exercise. My FitBit data doesn’t just quantify my existence, it quantifies the goals of my existence: calorie goals, BMI goals, body fat % goals, sleep hygiene goals, number of days active goals, heart rate goals, step goals – literally any way of quantifying my life via a watch that you could possibly want for under £200, it does. If I had blood sugar and blood pressure monitors, I would record that too. I shit not, I have previously looked into buying them – all in an effort to feel in control and achieve a way to be perfect.

 

I realise now that I treat myself more like a machine, rejecting how anything feels in order to try to obtain numerical perfection. It’s a great watch and that is what I bought it for but it can be tiring and distracting from the bigger picture. It seems this focus on numbers has become a replacement for my eating disorder behaviour. It is healthier and less destructive but that doesn’t mean it is healthy and not destructive. More numbers can be obtained to quantify my existence further with a premium subscription to FitBit. I have so far managed to resist.

When I left for the airport I saw my analogue watch, ticking away in it’s box from having been rooting for something else in the same drawer. I spontaneously, (get me being spontaneous) decided to switch it up. My analogue watch, get this, doesn’t even have any numbers on it. Not a single one. I need to have access to the time, I don’t like not knowing and can become disoriented with myself without a watch. I don’t think this is mental health related, I’ve been like this since I first got a watch and learned the time as a nipper. With this analogue watch I don’t know the time to the exact minute – which is why I haven’t worn it for the last 3 years it’s been sat in it’s box for. How could I possibly tell the time without knowing the exact minute of the hour? In answer, based on this week, just fine. Vaguely knowing the time of day and hour it turns out is enough.

My holiday from numbers includes not stressing about getting enough steps, enough sleep and enough activity to hit goals that equate to perfection. I have been able to let go a little this week. In my world, this small freedom equivelates letting my hair down, wild child I know.  On the way back from the hiking day to the Gorropu Canyon I wondered how many steps I had done that day, as if I needed to know the number as it would validate my experience and tiredness. Then I answered myself in my mind, it doesn’t matter; that day wasn’t about steps or minutes of activity. The day was about the experience, the memories and the nature I saw in numerous various forms. The number of steps wasn’t important to the experience in any way – and I recited this in a forced way in my mind, as if repeating fake it til you make it to myself.  The amount of calories burned was not important. The amount of time spent at fat burn, resting and cardio heart rates was not important. What was important was that my heart is strong enough to adapt to demand and by doing so allowing me to have days such as that one hiking through the mountains.

I feel quite liberated since cutting back on the permanent numbers game I’ve ben playing. I do find numbers calming, it is a form of coping mechanism for me which crops up more, naturally, during times of stress. Having said that, I feel like I do not need so many numbers in my life. They have evolved from a calming coping mechanism that allures a sense of control, to a controlling cage that traps me in trying to achieve the perfect set of figures across all platforms of my life: diet, weight, sleeping habits, heart rate, blood pressure…the lists goes on. Sounds familiar huh?

It is in this way that I have been giving numbers too much power over my life, letting them govern how I feel I ought to live my life and what I think is the right amount of everything. It initially manifested in an eating disorder, morphed into another eating disorder and now this. I’m a walking project of equations and sums. My experience is invalid without numbers in my opinion. I also know this to not be true.

 

I have had a desire to be clockwork and machine like for a long time, again, this was initially achieved by having an eating disorder. More recently it has been achieved by wearing my FitBit. The purpose is to not feel and to function impeccably. I want to do and power through life and for the whole while that my digits remain imperfect i have work to do. It hasn’t always been a helpful approach and has held me back in many ways in addition to always having work to do because I am human. I am an animal not a computer. Ironically, for want of a lack of feeling and human nature, this makes me upset sometimes. Most of us are familiar with not being what we want to be: a marathon runner, a CEO, rich, living in paradise but I have turned one impossible goal for another: being weightless for being numerically perfect in other ways. By doing so I have been choosing numbers over intuition and listening to my body or mind for what it really is.

Using numbers to control and restrict my life is not healthy. I don’t feel like I can preach balance when I am living my life so purposefully out of balance. Balance is not achieving perfection in any way be it weight, hours slept or heart rate. Perfection is not possible and life needn’t be constantly quantified in order to be living well – I am human. I am not a machine of equally spaced cogs designed to work like clockwork. Balance is less balance in the numbers of life and more adapting to the essence of change found in living. Evidently I have some way to go.

I Have a Big Mind, So I Can Keep Dreaming

I have a very big mind. I don’t know if you can quantify the size of a mind seeing as it is abstract. What I mean when I say I have a big mind is that it wanders. I have high ambitions for myself, and sometimes believe in them. I think I’m going to become an award-winning author, a Nobel prize receiving nutritionist (has that ever even happened?). I’m going to run marathons and go on to running ultra’s. I want to play instruments and dance like Darcey Bussell

I don’t just want to do all of this stuff. I strive to do it all. However, one obstacle keeps getting in my way. My mental health. I can be very disabling for me. Sometimes, when I am unwell, I can’t even cook or eat properly. I can’t wash. Going to the toilet feels like a chore. Understanding and depicting between reality and fantasy can be a challenge.

I think a lot. I use mindfulness to tame my thinking – and often my mind may be empty, and still I think a lot. I can switch off, but this doesn’t mean that I don’t want all of these things for myself, along with a fantastic relationship, and friends, and above all – learning to manage my mental health.

One thing I still struggle with a lot is knowing how much I can do. I often feel like I want every waking moment of my days to be achieving something – be that studying, learning, writing, reading, running, climbing, art. Perhaps I expect too much of myself. I’m not sure.

When I’m depressed though, something I always struggle with is my inability to do very much at all – and learning to reign in my ideals of how I want to live my life. Accepting the limitations placed on me by my illnesses is something I have not fully accepted. I have accepted it more than I could a few years ago: it is a process. At the same time, I don’t want to not live my life because of my illnesses. I don’t want to sell myself short. I think most people can relate to wanting to be the best version of themselves, and to wanting to live their life as the best version of themselves.

So accepting that I can only read a paragraph at a time, accepting that I can’t go out or leave the house, accepting that I can’t run 4 times a week because quite simply, I am too unwell is difficult to adapt to each time I get unwell. Unfortunately, for me, getting unwell is still a frequent part of my life and I wonder if ever I will be as well as I hope to be. I expected to be a fully functioning member of society with a brilliant job after being off work for 6 months. That was 6 years ago. Evidently, these hopes and desires didn’t quite pan out.

There are times when I wish I was someone else. There are more than numerous times when I wish I didn’t have my illnesses. In fact, I wish this most days that I’m affected negatively by them. I think that is natural, right? So here, on that point right there I need to do some more acceptance work. By that I don’t mean stop fighting and give in. By that I mean learn when to pull the reigns in and accept that for a period of time I probably can’t do everything I want to do or wish for.

The difficulty of this acceptance I think is compounded by the highs I experience. During these times, life is bloody wonderful and I’m functioning at 200%. I’m productive beyond measure, goal orientated like a world champion athlete chasing after an Olympic Gold. I’m talented. I’m brilliant. I’m capable of anything and everything I set myself to. This is called hypomania – and the part that gets me the most is the comparison.

When I am hypomanic, experiencing myself at 200% and loving it, producing grand plans and ideas of how I’m going to become successful in every sense of the word makes the contrast between this state and being so low I cannot leave my bed a more bitter pill to swallow – and in swallowing my meds, I am to an extent, forfeiting these periods of my best self.

Overall, I know it is worth it because I get severely depressed much more than I get hypomanic – yet the contrast of the, “but I’m so brilliant” during those times is a difficult price to pay for stability. Over the years I have refused medications and not taken my medication. Slowly I have learned that this is in fact the worst thing I can do because 90% I will go down, down, down. I have learned the importance of taking my meds, and the importance of self-care in terms of sleep hygiene, and keeping calm in my overall performance, because what is the use of functioning and being my best self at 200% for a few weeks once a year or so, compared to a functioning level between 60-70% for the majority of the time? It is an equation of better odds in longevity.

But I have a big mind and I despise not being capable. I despise not being independent 100% of the time. I resent the fact that I am resigned to not working full-time, perhaps ever. At times it eats me up inside that I may never reach my full best self due to my illness – and actively accepting that going to the shop for some milk and watching Netflix is as good as it’s going to get for a few weeks is a painful realisation to find yourself in when you have such a big mind.

I know that I need to tame my mind. I may not be able to be brilliant all the time, much to my disappointment – but I can be above good for most of the time when I’m well? Is that a fair price to pay for being 5% of myself, and totally disabled by my mental illness? No. I don’t think so. Is it reality though? Is that just how mental illness goes? Yes. I suppose it is. Do I want to accept that? Not at all. Do I need to accept that? Most definitely.

Many brilliant minds in the public eye are tortured by mental illness, yet they manage to be really quite remarkable. Stephen Fry. Ruby Wax. Catherine Zeta Jones. Demi Lovato. When I see how successful they are, I find myself thinking, why not me? There is an element of self belief required, but the truth is, these people are exceptions. Exceptional minds and personalities with mental illness. They do not represent the majority of people with mental illness. I think society forgets that and that help me to also forget that.

I see a lot of people where I live, and amongst the services and hospitals I’ve been to who experience severe mental illness, and for them, just living in supported accommodation or volunteering 4 hours a week is as good as it’s going to get. Yet I don’t see myself amongst that population. I don’t see myself as higher or better, but I see my mind as bigger. I don’t identify with the people in my living complex who spend all day every day staring into space smoking and drinking – I see myself in the Stephen Fry’s and the Demi Lovato’s: but I just can’t sustain my abilities at a high enough level – and that is something I suppose I need to learn to accept. That is something I need to learn to live with, without thinking I may as well kill myself at the same time. That is something I am sure many of us struggle with, mental illness or not.

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I just wish I could be my 200% for 100% of the time. I can dream. We all can. If I keep dreaming, and keep trying, it might become reality – until then, I need to reign in my expectations of myself again – and the heart wrenching reality of my illness hits me hard in the gut, in my soul, at my very core of what I consider to be my being. This is why I don’t work. This is why many people with mental illness don’t work and that’s OK – I just wish every person understood that without judgement. Maybe one day I too will work full-time, maybe I won’t.  Like I said though, I can dream right?

Coming Out of Hospital After 4 Weeks In

From the end of April to late May I spent 4 weeks in a psychiatric hospital, hence my absence. It was a difficult admission and still now I am struggling to quite get my head around what happened, what’s happening, and what I went through. I am also struggling to get back to every day life. Having spent 4 weeks in an NHS institution with nothing to do but sit and talk crap with other patients, sleep and eat I have struggled with going out, with my desire to leave my room, with socialising, with public transport and with getting up in the morning amongst other things.

I am still, after almost 2 weeks out, trying to pick myself up and get going with my life again. It’s been a hard ol’ slog. At the moment I am focusing on getting up and dressed in the a.m and trying to spend my days doing more than staring at the TV until I’m sleepy again. I haven’t managed to start exercising again yet – for some reason I’m really scared to go for a run, or get on my bike. I think this is going to be a long process that seems to be moving at a glacial pace.

I am however, trying to implement skills and tactics in order to get going again, and in order to cope with my new found freedom, in addition to coping in healthier ways than those I employed prior to my admission which landed me in hospital for 4 weeks. My journey from public place, to police van, to 136 suite and then to hospital was quite a surreal one. I did write a lot whilst I was in hospital about what I was going through, some of which I plan to share over the coming days in order to explore my experience. It kind of illustrates my journey with my experience.

After 4 weeks of doing very little, and becoming accustomed to sleeping the days away in order to pass time and be perceived ad the “good quiet” patient, I am slowly getting used to getting up and dressed, as I barely dressed or washed whilst I was in hospital. In fact, every time I have showered since coming out (2-3 times) I have lost the knack of keeping soap out of my eyes and mouth in the shower – this is also something I am currently grappling to re-learn.

So what am I doing to get myself back on track?

1.Set an alarm for 8:30 and 9am to try and get  up and out of bed in a decent time.
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2. I decided from today to not watch TV before 3pm, otherwise I will sit there and watch it all day at the moment. This isn’t usually something I struggle with but it has cropped up since I have come home.
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3. Making plans on sites like Meet Up to go out with people, socialise and become slightly active again.
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4. Making daily To Do lists to try and do something productive with my day and to get chores done.
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5. Trying to go out and acclimatise to using public transport again.
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6. Planning fun things to look forward to.
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7. Keeping a functioning and mood reflective diary.
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Melancholy

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I’m really struggling at the moment. It’s hard to pinpoint with what exactly though. I’m really unmotivated to do anything, and I keep sleeping for a really long time. I’m massively relying on my comfort items at the moment – I am sat with Big Bear as I type. I think something, although I’m unsure as to what exactly may  be stressing me out.

I’ve been trying to focus on managing my personal hygiene better lately, which means trying to shower every day. Right now I couldn’t think of much worse. I think, perhaps my medication may be too high as I’m hungry all the time as well – like right now, I have done nothing and eaten food yet I’m starving hungry. I always feel weak and lethargic, like a sloth and have no motivation to exercise which is stressing me out as I have big races in less than 2 months to train for.

I missed a workshop that I was really looking forward to this morning because I just couldn’t face getting up for it. The journey just filled me with dread, so I went back to bed and woke up again at midday. This isn’t anywhere near as productive as I would like to be.

I’m quite unhappy in this state, although I feel numbed to my discontent. I’m not depressed, but I”m something. Perhaps more melancholy than actively anything, lethargic and apathetic to most things. I spoke to my friend and she really helped to lift my mood and was very supportive.

I hope I can figure this out soon because it’s not as dramatic as “I can’t live like this” but more along the lines of, “this isn’t productive or conducive to recovery” and that’s what my journey is about right? Recovery. I want to be as well as I can be, and that means getting out of bed in the morning for one, and doing stuff with my time for two – then looking after myself, i.e. showering and eating better for three.

Online Support Forum

Hey everyone,

I’ve made an online support forum for everyone suffering and experiencing mental health difficulties. The boards are for everyone experiencing mental health difficulties in some way ranging for psychosis to eating disorders.

Please feel free to join up at http://deardarlingsanity.boards.net