Tag Archives: mental health

Blue Monday

Today is Blue Monday, the third Monday of January is the glummest day of the year due to a combination of post-Christmas blues, dark days, gloomy weather and the arrival of the dreaded credit-card bills. I suspect that those trying to follow Dry January or Veganuary aren’t helping themselves to a certain extent, self-denial often makes one feel worst.  Though alcohol is a depressant, so should be avoided, and I like steak too much to comment on Veganuary.

However, we can all try to make this a less depressing day.  Thinking about or doing stuff for others often helps, and though you can’t exactly go round and have a cuppa with your neighbour, you might be able to call them and check they’re okay, have a chat, make sure they aren’t feeling too alone, and in the process ensure that you aren’t feeling too alone either.

Mental health affects us all, I openly admit to suffering depression, it makes life hard sometimes, and I know how lucky I am to have a loving and supportive family. The things that make me feel better, are, usually, simply, and freely, conversations. I like hearing good news from others. If the others don’t have good news, then I’ll listen to that and sympathise, or help if I’m in a position to, even join in the slag-fest if that’s where the conversation goes.  I’ll encourage where I can. I’ll use a shoulder when all I can do is cry.

The point I suppose is even when we are blue, we don’t have to paint the town red, we just have to share a moment with the people around us. A wave across the street. A note on social media. A chat on the phone or a message/text. So reach out, you are not alone, please don’t be lonely.

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Of late I have to say that my mental health is definitely on the up, but I had a really bad night the other night. I haven’t mentioned it before because I wasn’t ready to, but now I can.

You see I wasn’t sleeping well. I was laying in bed and getting hot and cold. I wasn’t sweating, but I would grow hot and then my temperature would suddenly drop and I’d start shivering. Added to that there was no getting comfortable.

I started having really dark thoughts about death and being buried. And being forgotten after death, and worse of being forgotten before death. 

I realised at the time that these were dark thoughts and not healthy. I did try to change my thoughts, but the darkness kept coming back. So I didn’t sleep at all well that night. What’s worse is that those thoughts keep coming back.

These have been some of the darkest thoughts I’ve been plagued with since the suicidal phase. I don’t like it, I have no idea what triggered it and I want to avoid it. I’m doing my best not to let my mind go there, but it’s harder than it sounds.  Still it’s a journey back to health it will take time and I though I struggled to change the thinking that night, I know that by recognising the problem, that’s the first step to overcoming it. Yes I struggled that time, but next time I’ll have more success, then more the time after and so on until I break the downward spiral. 

Get there step by step. On nightmare at a time.

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Another day, another blog.

Just had a look at my rate of writing for the last week, and even though I’ve not written every night, I’ve managed an average of a few words over 1,000 words a night.  Add in the blog which is generally 300 words, so I’m turning out about 1,300 words a night.

I’m impressed with that given that I’ve not felt like I’ve done much in the way of writing.  Feel like I’ve been flagging on that front, but apparently I haven’t. I’m proud of that. And I should be. I should allow myself to be proud of I can do.

All too often I think I’m useless or crap, that I’m not doing enough. But I know there are a lot of writers who thing writing a couple of hundred words a day is good. And it is.  So I can’t denigrate the achievement of writing 1,000 words a night. 

I admit that not all of those words are going to make it through to the final book, but a lot of them will, and I’m happy about that.

Part of improving my mental health has to be recognising that I am capable, I am good and I can do.  Well the figures now stack up. I write a lot, and I have to stop making myself feel bad over nothing.

I am able.

I am proud of what I can do.

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Today I stayed in bed till 2pm.  Haven’t done that in a long time.  Yes, some of it was to do with a hangover, but most of it was just feeling ‘meh’. Been feeling that way for a couple of days, not ill, just a little under the weather.

So today has been a bit of a downer.  Did go for a walk, though I have to say doing that same loop is getting really old, but any alternative would be a there and back, and almost all urban, not fields or woods.

Unfortunately, I haven’t even had to oomph to do any writing today.  Just not feeling it. Not creating it. 

Think it may be missing the fact that we should have been away this weekend and we’re not. I’ve been in the house since 9th March, yes the 9th, not the 23rd when everyone else was locked down. My mental health hit suicidal on the 8th, and I just couldn’t go on, so leaving the house for those two weeks wasn’t going to happen. It all means that I’ve only been out to go to Tesco, drop my daughter to work, and some short walks. Don’t even do those every day, or even one of them every day.

Sorry on a bit of a downer tonight, so going to sign off now and hope that I wake up in a better mood tomorrow.

Stay safe.

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