Why Saying “I’m Not Okay” is Actually Okay

I will apologise in advance because this is a slight deviation from what I usually write and because I feel that this is probably going to be a long post but I wanted to write this because recently I’ve been feeling a little low, I wouldn’t say depressed because that’s an entirely different ball game. But, here’s the thing, maybe I would be saying depressed if I hadn’t have learned that admitting that you’re feeling low is totally fine.

I need to give some background here; when I was 12, my father died very suddenly from calcification in his aortic valve – so, basically his heart stopped. Both my sister (who was 7 and the time) and I were unfortunate in that we were there when he collapsed, although I and other people did our best to prevent her from seeing too much. We were swiftly taken away by a family friend and later found out that he had died. It was totally devastating. Going through the stress of watching a loved one collapse, watching people try to resuscitate  them, waiting for hours to hear what you hope is going to be good news and that it was just a catastrophic blip and they’re fine, only to find out one of the most important figures in your life has gone forever is indescribably painful. It’s really difficult to articulate and it’s even harder to imagine if you’ve never been through it.

Understandably, perhaps, I experienced depressive episodes which often constituted feeling sad, numb, angry, guilty, worthless and in the worst periods, feeling nothing at all and being totally anhedonic. When I felt okay, it quickly returned to depression again because it seemed wrong that I should be happy, feeling hopeful or enjoying myself when I “should have been” grieving. This cycle is very common in the grieving process, as I learned at counselling sessions shortly after my father’s death. Counselling helped at the time, I had someone who understood me and I could talk to about things but otherwise I spoke to no-one else, preferring not to upset my mum when she was also trying to cope with the loss. I also took on a more adult role because my mum struggled; I wanted to help and keep the family going so, aged 12, I became an adult.

It might seem like this is going off on a tangent, but it isn’t – stay with me. As I got older, the grief became easier to handle. A good analogy of grief is to think of it as a stone; to begin with, it is sharp, jagged and painful to handle. As time goes on, it becomes smoother, easier to handle but it never completely disappears. The depressive episodes I experienced became less frequent, although they could still be matched in ferocity. But I still never really spoke to anyone about it. I think it’s because of this that my thoughts started to turn to self-harm and although I never went through with it properly, it was enough for a referral to a psychiatrist. This was probably my first turning point (note, *first* turning point). I decided to buckle down at school and make my dad proud. I got decent GCSE results and went on into Sixth Form to complete my A Levels before heading off to university. But still, through this time and up until last year, I never really spoke to anyone in detail about my feelings and I was reluctant to even talk to my boyfriend (who I’ve now been with almost five years).

I thought admitting that I wasn’t okay was like admitting I was weak and it made me feel weak after trying to be so strong for my family. To put it plainly, vulnerability was unacceptable to me. Not too long after I had moved into my university term-time address, I experienced quite a radical episode and ended up crying on my brand new housemate which caused me to feel so angry and humiliated with myself because what kind of early impression is that? What must she think of me? What an idiot.

Or not. She actually suggested that I seek counselling again. I was completely against the idea initially, I thought it’s just another indication of weakness. But it got to the point where I felt dreadful and it was apparent that I wasn’t coping well at all which would have eventually seeped into my studies. So I registered with my university counselling service and started sessions. Rather than giving me new coping mechanisms which I was expecting, my counsellor gave me a new perspective. We discovered that there was two sides of me; one who was vulnerable and wanted say to say “I’m not okay” and one who was adamant that vulnerability wasn’t an option. She asked me to create a dialogue between these two discussing weakness and whether it was okay; it was difficult but useful. This dialogue created the foundation for my realisation that feeling vulnerable, sad, down, depressed or whatever you want to call it, is absolutely fine. In fact, rather than it being “weakness” it’s healthy and a sign of strength; admitting I wasn’t okay meant that I wasn’t ignoring the problem or bottling it up until I eventually had a meltdown. Saying “I’m not okay” means that I acknowledge something’s up, even if I’m not sure what it is. Even recently, I have said “no, I’m not feeling too great” or “my weekend was a bit rubbish because I felt a bit rubbish” and I haven’t felt ashamed about it. In fact, I feel so much better about myself for being honest both with me and other people and I feel like my relationships have been boosted by it too.

I have changed from viewing my vulnerabilities as a hinderance and as something that shouldn’t be tolerated and should ignored or hidden from other people. Sometimes, it’s still hard admitting that I’m not having a good day and yes, some times I do want some time to myself to think things over. But feeling able to admit that things might not be going so well has helped me see that I am actually a much stronger person than I thought I was and that I’m not weak, just a little less brighter than my usual self. Now, when I recognise when I’m feeling low, I can say “okay, that’s fine, let’s do some baking/ let’s read a book/ let’s listen to music/ let’s talk to someone about it”, it’s alright.

I’ll wrap my essay (sorry!) here and conclude with that if you’re reading this and you maybe recognise yourself in me and want to feel differently then don’t be afraid to take that step. There is always someone who can listen, whether that’s family, a partner, a friend, a counsellor or a charity; people can surprise you. And if you think you’re alone, well… This blog is surely proof you’re not alone? And let me tell you this; I’m not always okay, but that’s okay.

I Am Truly Dreadful At This

I’d like to begin with a quote from my last post: “I guess my aim is to keep the blog updated with my progress and not leave months between my entries (oops!)” (‘My Mission (Should I Choose To Accept It)’, November 2012 [!!!!!]).

I have failed MISERABLY with this so huge apologies! I would try and make excuses like I had a lot of university work (which in fairness, I did!) or that I was busy doing something extraordinary in some exotic location but alas no, there are no excuses really! But I want to try and start this again; I find it quite therapeutic even if there aren’t many people reading this.

So I guess I should update on my book list; since my last post I have read ‘The Bell Jar’ by Sylvia Plath and ‘Life of Pi’ by Yann Martel. I also re-read the first two Harry Potter books (‘Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone’ and ‘Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets’ by J. K. Rowling). I’ve also read a few books outside of the list including ‘Captain Corelli’s Mandolin’ by Louis de Bernières, ‘The Perks of Being a Wallflower’ by Stephen Chbosky, ‘The Silver Linings Playbook’ by Matthew Quick and more recently, ‘The Hunger Games’ Triology by Suzanne Collins. I also read hideous amounts of my Neuroscience textbook during the academic year but I did well in my exam so I guess it paid off!

You might notice that ‘Catch 22’ isn’t listed above. Well, that’s because I had real difficulty getting into it. I just didn’t connect with it as I have with other novels so I decided to put it down and come back to it at a later date. I was a little disappointed with myself for not persevering but I found it difficult to connect with any of the characters so I felt like I could be reading and enjoying something else.

Anyhow, my brief thoughts on ‘The Bell Jar’ and ‘Life of Pi’. I found the former to be an interesting reading; Plath created a character, Esther Greenwood, who manages to captivate you and draw you in but also haunts you with some of the disturbing thoughts she has. Following her journey is quite emotional, particularly if you have ever experienced depression as it is very accurate in depicting aspects of this. I think it could also be potentially quite triggering as it can detail her thoughts and actions surrounding self-harm quite vividly, which I initially found quite shocking. But this doesn’t mean I think it should be avoided; Plath’s tells a smart story about a girl who falls deep into a dark, haunting and terrifying world that envelopes her. Why is it only her? Because this world is her mind and that’s what makes Sylvia Plath’s ‘The Bell Jar’ such an intriguing and insightful read, especially when you consider that this novel has been viewed as semi-autobiographical by many.

‘Life of Pi’ was truly excellent and very thought-provoking which I think can be a rare thing in literature. I have to admit that I had read the book after seeing the film (which, by the way, is still an amazing and visually stunning piece that depicts the book well – though it well never match the book) but I’m fairly sure this just made the book even better. Told from the perspective of the protagonist “Pi” as he recounts his great adventure after being shipwrecked and trapped on a lifeboat with a tiger in the middle of an ocean. The vivid descriptions make for a sumptuous and addictive read and the ending makes you thirst for the truth. But then… What is truth? On that note, I urge you to read this novel, it is a masterpiece and it will have you contemplating how blurred the lines between reality and faith can be.

My Mission (Should I Choose to Accept It)…

…50 Books to Read Before You Die – as depicted on my lovely stainless steel bookmark!

I’m a big fan of reading, I have been ever since I was younger but since studying my A-Levels I don’t seem to have read anywhere near as much as I used to (probably because of time). I came across this bookmark in a local bookshop because I was in desperate need of to something to keep my place in a book that wasn’t a torn piece of flimsy post-it that had lost its stickiness. Not only was it more permanent than a post-it note, it has approximately fifty books that should apparently be read before you die etched into it, which intrigued me greatly so I bought it. I have read a few of them already but I feel that because I now have a blog, I have some sort of motivation to actually read them; so I can read them and pass on the joy! So without further ado, here are the “50 Books to Read Before You Die”:

The Lord of the Rings Trilogy – J.R.R. Tolkien
1984 – George Orwell
Pride and Prejudice – Jane Austen
The Grapes of Wrath – John Steinbeck
To Kill A Mockingbird – Harper Lee
Jane Eyre – Charlotte Bronte
Wuthering Heights – Emily Bronte
A Passage to India – E. M. Foster
The Lord of The Flies – William Golding
Hamlet – William Shakespeare (read – good old English Literature A Level)
A Bend in the River – V. S. Naipaul
The Great Gatsby – F. Scott Fitzgerald
The Catcher in The Rye – J. D. Salinger (have read but will probably read again to refresh!)
The Bell Jar – Sylvia Plath
Brave New World – Aldous Huxley
The Diary of Anne Frank – Anne Frank
Don Quixote – Miguel De Cervantes
The Bible – Various
The Canterbury Tales – Geoffrey Chaucer
Ulysses – James Joyce
The Quiet American – Graham Greene
Birdsong – Sebastian Faulks (read it – loved it!)
Money – Martin Amis
Harry Potter Series – J. K. Rowling (obviously read, may well read again)
Moby Dick – Herman Melville
The Wind in the Willows – Kenneth Grahame
His Dark Materials Trilogy – Philip Pullman
Anna Kernina – Leo Tolstoy
Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland – Lewis Carroll
Rebecca – Daphne du Maurier
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time – Mark Haddon
On the Road – Jack Kerouac
Heart of Darkness – Joseph Conrad
The Way We Live Now – Anthony Trollope
The Outsider – Albert Camus
The Colour Purple – Alice Walker
Life of Pi – Yann Martel
Frankenstein – Mary Shelley
The War of the Worlds – H. G. Wells
Men Without Women – Ernest Hemingway
Gulliver’s Travels – Jonathan Swift
A Christmas Carol – Charles Dickens
Huckleberry Finn – Mark Twain
Robinson Crusoe – Daniel Defoe
One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest – Ken Kesey (read it, liked it)
Catch 22 – Joseph Heller
The Count of Monte Cristo – Alexandre Dumas
Memoirs of a Geisha – Arthur Golden (read it, possibly one of my favourites)
The Divine Comedy – Alighieri Dante
The Picture of Dorian Gray – Oscar Wilde (read it, liked it but found some bits a tad laborious!)

So there we have it, fifty books that I intend to read before I die. I guess my aim is to keep the blog updated with my progress and not leave months between my entries (oops!). The next book I’m going to read is Catch 22 by Joseph Heller which I’m looking forward to. In between this post and the eventual review of Catch 22, I think I might share my thoughts on Memoirs of a Geisha because it really is one of the best books I’ve read and it needs to be shared! So keep an eye out if you’re interested 🙂

‘The Mind’s Eye’ by Oliver Sacks – A Quick Review

So today I had my first Neuroscience lecture of my second year and I’m fairly sure my synapses stopped transmitting information, resulting in a general sense of mushiness and mind-blownedness. But anyway, before I was subjected to the reality of second year Neuroscience (and it wasn’t even that complicated, just recapping first year *hangs head in shame*) I read a rather interesting book by the rather wonderful Dr Oliver Sacks, American neurologist and without a doubt one of my favourite popular science authors.

He just has an excellent writing style that makes even the more complex functions of the brain accessible to those who may not have quite the same expertise and at the same time taking the reader on a fascinating journey through the sheer awesomeness of the brain. Personally, neuroscience/ neurology isn’t my thing because I often struggle with it but the entire reason for engaging with Sacks’ books is so that I don’t have to struggle as much as it really does enrich my knowledge of the brain and as a Psychology student, that can only be a good thing!

In ‘The Mind’s Eye’, Sacks takes the reader through several case studies that involve malfunctions in vision and visual perception which could either stem from the eye itself or from the visual cortex in the brain. Either way, these richly detailed and intriguing case studies make for hugely interesting reading and quite frankly some of the effects described are astounding because it really opens your mind to the complexity of the brain and makes you appreciate it more when it works harmoniously with your visual system. Possibly the most intriguing case study is that of Dr Sacks himself, whereby he describes the visual problems he had that resulted from a tumour in his eye. Included in this chapter are extracts from the journal he kept whilst he went through the process of having the tumour, it being removed and recovering from the surgery which are interesting in themselves but made even more interesting by the sketches he drew to demonstrate exactly what he saw. It is this kind of insight that sets Sacks apart from other authors who are engaging in their own right but not quite on the same level of Sacks. But this isn’t just another book on neurology, he throws Philosophy into the mix by questioning what ‘the mind’s eye’ actually is and do we all have one or is just a select few? Genius!

Basically, the reason why The Mind’s Eye is such a good read is because Sacks is not just another popular science author, he is a storyteller and that is what makes this book (and the others) ultimately fascinating to read and I believe that if you have an interest in neurology, the brain, psychology or just generally fascinated by stories of the uncommon and unique then you need to read an Oliver Sacks book. Not that I’m biased or anything.

Blast From The Past: Moving Into University Halls

Roughly a year ago today I moved away from home to live in university halls of residence while I began my first year of my degree and my experience can only be described as interesting…

My mum and sister dropped me off and yes, there were tears (although not from my sister, I think she was glad I was leaving) and suddenly it was like “Oh my God, I’m at university… Now what?”. Why, it was the customary force-yourself-and-these-complete-strangers-you’re-living-with-for-the-next-year-to-become-friends-so-you-don’t-look-like-a-weirdo process!! INCLUDING the asking and answering the ever-popular questions “where are you from?” and “what are you studying?”. Such a nightmare! But one positive I guess I could take from it is that you learn to bite the bullet and get to know people you normally wouldn’t come across. So… Improved Socialisation Skills – check! Of course you then discover that most people just put a facade to make sure they’re not friendless in Freshers’ Week and you start seeing their true colours later on. But never mind!

The halls themselves were of a great standard; built in 2008 with good kitchen facilities and an ensuite bathroom (if that’s what you applied for of course) but my experience was “interesting” mostly because of the people I lived with – an eclectic mix of ten UK, European and international students which I found very positive as I enjoyed learning about their culture and how their perception of the UK differs to the natives. The UK students… Not so much, all I really learned from them was that I didn’t want to live with them ever again! Bar a couple who I actually got on well with. Sadly, the archaic idea that all students do is drink copious amounts of alcohol, sleep until 3 in the afternoon and live off Super Noodles was personified by the others which meant that most weeks, I would be guaranteed to be woken up by them and any other squealing fools they brought into the flat at 3 in the morning. Not cool. And the kitchen was constantly a mess, no matter how much hovering or wiping down of tables was done. I imagined that my experience could be likened to living with permanently unsupervised (and inebriated) three year-olds.

Although the debauchery exhibited by the people living in my flat overshadows a lot of what was good about my first year, I found that when it came to moving out I was actually a little bit sad about it. I suppose it was the positive things like living with students from other countries, being able to walk to lectures with my coursemates who lived in the same apartments, getting ready for a day of volunteering, staying up with hot chocolates topped with a billion mini marshmallows, a film and my boyfriend at weekends that made it a good experience. And despite appearances, this post is not meant to scare people into thinking that everyone’s university experience is awful or put people off; a lot of people had an awesome time and are now living with the flatmates they had in first year. I think that halls are a necessary part of university, whether you have a good experience or not. I learnt a lot from my experience and now the house I’m living in for this year is actually pretty awesome and I’m living with people I actually get on with. I should also point out that the stereotypical student image I mentioned before (booze + beans = life etc.) is totally untrue for the majority of students; yes there are those who care more about getting hammered than their degree and yes, they really do give students a bad name but it is SO important that I say that a lot of people aren’t like that and those that are generally don’t get on too well – funnily enough the foolish fool in my flat failed one of their first year modules and you need 40% to pass. Need I say more… KARMA BABY!

I guess this  post is me being a bit self-indulgent and just thinking about how much better this year will be compared to my Freshers  but also to communicate to any current Freshers who might be reading this is that if you’re living with tools… persevere! I did it by getting involved with other things like volunteering and venting to coursemates and family (a lot) and really, things can only get better… If you make it that way!

Why The Olympics (So Far) Have Done Britain Proud

So yesterday marked the start of the London 2012 Olympics with a quintessentially British ceremony which has been hailed by the British media as a roaring success with most front pages depicting the rings showering sparks down below, which is not surprising in the slightest. But I’ve seen on Facebook etc that some people (a small minority) disagree, for example Americans saying they didn’t understand it and that it perhaps should have been more universal so people unfamiliar with British culture could get in on the joke that was otherwise a mystery. To a certain extent, I agree but the whole point of Danny Boyle’s production was that it was a showcase of Britain so making it more universal would deny some of the character that appeared. Where else would you see an army of Mary Poppins descend on a giant inflatable Lord Voldemort?!  Nevertheless, moments such as the ‘Queen’ and James Bond jumping out of helicopter into the Olympic stadium and the spectacular lighting of the cauldron all contributed to a very memorable and very successful opening ceremony. Danny Boyle, the volunteers in the ceremony and everyone else who helped make it as wonderful as it was should all be commended for the inventiveness and intelligence that was displayed last night.

Now on to the Olympics; I am personally not very sporty although I enjoy badminton and cycling when I get the time but I think it’s a hugely positive event. Right now I’m watching women’s football on TV. I repeat; I’m watching women’s football on TV. It’s an ideal platform for relatively underrepresented sports to be showcased and the BBC’s attempt to broadcast 2500 hours is a great way to access the different events. Today, I’ve seen bits of archery, judo, boxing, swimming, the road race (unlucky Mr. Cavendish), beach volleyball, badminton and gymnastics (using the catch-up service) and I’ve enjoyed them all. I also feel slightly more motivated to seek out a badminton club and expand on hitting a shuttlecock around in my back garden. Not to mention, I believe it was mentioned in the ceremony that this is the first Olympics where all the countries have female participants which is a wonderful achievement in itself. The inclusion of more sports this year (including women’s boxing) and the prospect of further sports being included in the Rio 2016 Olympics is quite exciting and just means that the Olympics are made ever more accessible to the next generation of sportsmen and women.

I am constantly in admiration of the sheer skill and ability of all the participants in the Olympics as they demonstrate the will to excel and be the best they can in fair ways. Will the Olympics achieve the aim of ‘inspiring a generation’? Yes, I think they will!