Subtly Silverlined

As a dyspraxic, sport has always been a source of shame and embarrassment, especially because of the aggression and competitively, combined with ‘setting’ for PE, in school. As someone who struggles with coordination and reaction times, sport has never been easy for me.

However, as is the case for all human beings, I enjoy exercise. In my seratonin starved brain, the mood-lifting endorphins released by exercise are very much welcome. So I have always had to grapple with a) the need for fitness, b) my enjoyment of exercise, and c) my hatred of the humiliation and self-esteem destruction usually wrought by sport.

So with that context, I suppose it is hardly surprising that I generally avoid sport, and find sport situations highly anxiety inducing. However, rugby is a sport that I enjoy watching, and which runs strongly in my family. So if I was going to try any sport, it would be rugby.

Earlier this evening, was a tag rugby session ‘for all ages and abilities’ at my brother’s club. He encouraged me to join him for the session, as he has done for a few weeks now. Finally, I plucked up the courage to accompany him. A forward pass at the commencement of the game was hardly a promising start; a panic response to a shouted command with too-slow a reaction time, as my anxiety about being in a team-sport situation overtook me. However, this was the slap to the face that I needed to shake the anxiety and live in the moment. For the remainder of the game, I only paid attention to playing, and the anxiety quickly slipped away. It was the most grounded I have felt for a long time. The coach commended me for my ‘good hands’, and I scored three times, as well as successfully weathering a shoulder to the face from the biggest bloke on the pitch.

I know that I have to be aware of not only focusing on positive encouragement from others, as this is something I am overly-dependent on, as a result of my poor self-esteem and confidence, as my counsellor highlighted. So that’s why I’m writing this entry, to congratulate myself for dragging myself over to a session I was utterly dreading, to something that is a known trigger for my anxiety, and for refusing to crumble. Because my heart was racing and my breaths were short before even starting, and that first forward pass raised a lump in my throat. So well done me, for pushing onwards regardless, and for actually enjoying myself. Who knows, perhaps rugby will be my saviour?

I’m movin’ on up now

Getting out of the darkness

My light shines on

My light shines on

To no longer be ashamed of my mental illness, disability, or personality. (I think I’m slowly getting there).

To be strong(er), and more independent- I need to be happy in myself, and not rush off to my partner as soon as I am left alone so that I can run away from my thoughts. I used to often choose to be alone, and be comfortable with this. I need to get back to this point, so that my relationship with my partner is stronger.

To explore my interests- I need to figure out what really makes me happy, and I need to be excited about this, as trying new things and returning to old hobbies should be an enticing prospect!

To explore my options, in order to be optimistic about the future (not terrified).

To be less anxious- I need to work on coping mechanisms and identify more triggers, so that I can manage my anxiety, rather than have it manage me.

To be more healthy, mentally and physically.

To live in the moment, not in worry!

Shame is an emotion that I have grappled with for a long time, for so many reasons; my sensitivity (when I was young and hurt by bullies, I was always told “don’t be so sensitive”), for my disability, for my loneliness, and most recently, for my mental health and leaving uni, especially as academia became a vital element of my identity some years ago.

But I’ve realised, fuck that shit. Mental illness is a plague that seems to be devastating my generation, and behind closed doors, those before it. By being outspoken about my experiences, perhaps I can help to change perceptions and facilitate conversation. Or not. But either way, it will get things off my chest.

Also, I realise that leaving uni to work on my health is a brave step. I keep saying this over and over, in the hope that this might change my attitude, but I know that in order to change your thinking, conscious repitition is necessary until positive habits become autonomous.

Most of all though, no privilege should invalidate suffering. I have been lucky to be privileged in so many ways, being supported by a loving family, for example. Just because others may superficially, or even realistically have ‘more reason’ to be depressed than me (over the years, many people have tried to persuade me that I’ve ‘got nothing to worry about’ compared to others), this does not mean that to be mentally ill is a reflection of some fault of personality in my case. I must not feel ashamed for being anxious or depressed. I have experienced my fair share of trauma, more than I often realise, or give myself credit for. As a society, we must stop trying to draw comparisons between cases, between mental health sufferers, and stop persuading people that if they are not experiencing the most extreme manifestations of mental illness, they are mentally well. We know that this is not the case. And catching mental health problems early means they don’t escalate further. Open conversation is essential, and anyone brave enough to stand up and say ‘I’m in pain’ should feel valid, and deserving of care and treatment.

So to conclude this ramble, it’s time for me to cut the shit, and stop feeling ashamed, because shame prevents me from discussing my feelings, fears and concerns openly, and most of all, it stops me from recovering.

She’s a silver lining lone ranger riding

To focus on the good, I’m making lists (in a very predictable turn of events)...

First thing this morning, I went outside into the sunshine, and two butterflies flew around my head (Cabbage Whites, probably on their way to devour my mum’s precious veg but oh well)

I listened to one of my favourite albums and belted the lyrics along to it (my neighbours hate me)

I watched my mum and dad play frisbee in the garden, with my dog chasing between them

I walked through a meadow and just stopped for a while to listen to the grasshoppers and crickets

My dog jumped in the river and sprayed me with water

I ate my first wild blackberry of the year

I went for a walk and didn’t get too tired- I’m finally getting better!

I started a new book that is really interesting

I watched a TV programme that made me laugh

I ate some of my mum’s legendary coffee ice cream