By VIRGINIA WINDER
It hit me like a flash flood and disappeared with the same speed.
Yep, got whacked by the flu or some other virus that had all the symptoms of influenza.
Not going to go into them all because I'll sound like an old moaner and anyway, I'm good now. Apart from a slow-drip nose.
Got back into the exercise last week with a Desperate Housewives bike ride. Watched the first half of the final-ever double episode on the wind trainer, sweating and crying (just a bit) at the same time.
Also went to Pilates again and discovered more of my inner core.
Mindfulness at the hospital went well too.
Strangely, I can now spend time without 1000 thoughts racing through my head like some action movie on fast forward. In fact, by focusing on my breath, I can think absolutely nothing. It's like having one of those thought bubbles in my head with nothing in it.
This whole peaceful way of being is an unfamiliar feeling for me. It's weird, but good, not seesawing through my days. I must admit I miss the euphoria but not the dungeons.
Feel like I've been given a fresh page to write on; one I can fill with whatever I want to, rather than a mad scribble of thoughts.
I choose to fill my daily diar ywith exercise, creative writing, art and and a whole lot more. For now, I'll just focus on fitness and creativity.
This week I plan to go to Pilates, go for three long walk-runs (Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday), two bike rides (either inside or out) (Wednesday and Sunday) and two swims (Friday and Sunday).
Tuesday night is Waxing Lyrical on The Most 100.4FM. On my 7-8pm show, I play songs with great words. It's a wonderful time to get lost in music and hang out with the Kiwiana host. His show is straight after mine and, don't tell anyone, but I've got a bit of thing for him. He's just so handsome and hairy, lean and alluring.
Being alone in the darkened studio with him is one of the highlights of my week. Sigh.
Creative nights are planned for most other times - the art room beckons and so does my laptop. I prefer to write on a keyboard because I think through my fingers. Tap, tap, tap, like rain on the roof.
So, I've put it out there - the plan for this week.
If it's too dark or grotty to go running, I'll hit the treadmill at the gym.
Now I have to admit that my food intake hasn't been great. I've had this insatiable craving for boysenberry jam. No, I'm not pregnant!
Who knows why, but it's probably a sugar fix craving. From now on, we'll just leave jam off the shopping list and add frozen berries into the mix. They'll be defrosted, of course, and be tossed into my morning muesli.
There has to be some reason why I need boysenberries, so can't deprive myself totally. They are high in antioxidants, so that's got to be good.
So there it is - exercise, good berries and peace. Oh and that irresistable Kiwiana host.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Monday, July 16, 2012
The truth is out there
By Virginia Winder
We are not alone.
They walk among us.
OK, so I’m an alien movie and X File fan, but when I say “they”, I mean “we” and “us” changes to “you”.
Because the truth is we are out there – everywhere.
Most people in society are touched by mental illness in some way.
Since last week’s blog, dozens of amazing people have contacted me to share their own experiences. Others have sent messages about having people close to them who have been unwell or still are.
Even more have given me thoughtful and compassionate feedback. I truly believe that people the world over are inherently kind and accepting, and that’s especially so here in Taranaki.
Those who talked of illnesses mostly mentioned depression, anxiety and that yo-yo inner world of bipolar. But there are people in this community who are living with schizophrenia and also thriving.
Oh but the things we learn on the way.
I’m fortunate enough to be enrolled in a mindfulness class through the Taranaki District Health Board.
Mindfulness is about living in the moment. It’s also about accepting people and situations without judgement and with an open mind.
Mindfulness is the “it just is” way of thinking without attaching good or bad thoughts to it.
In fact, it teaches us to think of the mind as a guest house where everyone is welcome. So, when bad thoughts appear in your mind, you invite them in and then let them go. Or you can imagine they are clouds and let them float by, along with the good thoughts.
You see, thoughts are just thoughts; they aren’t truth.
One of the best things about mindfulness is that it’s about focusing on right now and doing that to the best of your ability – like reading this! Or when you’re working, being absolutely intent on that and nothing else.
So if you’re working on a report or story, turn off your emails, switch your cellphone on to silent or aeroplane mode and give all your attention to writing.
It’s incredibly rewarding and work days just fly by.
Try doing it when you have coffee with a friend – focus solely on them and what they are saying. It’s an amazing experience living mindfully.
You can do that with exercise too by focusing on your breathing, your strides, your strokes and your pedal pushing. Break it right down to that smallest movement and try to do each one to the best of your ability.
I know that on midwinter days it’s so easy to curl up at home, pull the blinds and hide away from the world and the weather. I did that yesterday when it never stopped raining – I had a PJ day. It was lovely too.
But it’s not great training strategy, so I’m going to listen to Coach Clint who has shared the “rocks in the jar” concept.
The rocks have to go in first, then you can fit in the pebbles, then fill the gaps up with sand.
You can’t put the rocks in last because they simply won’t fit.
What he means is that you have to focus on running, biking and swimming first – they are the rocks. The pebbles are Pilates and gym work for core strength. The sand is stretching and yoga.
My sports massage therapist, Lauren Hann (an ironwoman herself), says consistency is the key. She says that for now, when it’s so horrible out there, just do a little often.
Get on the wind trainer for half an hour, or head to the gym for a short workout. Go for a short run in your wet weather gear.
Do these things every day to keep your fitness levels up, your muscles working and your mind alert.
Honestly, one of the best things in the world for mental health is exercise.
Lauren has given me my pep talk. Clint has given me rocks.
Now it’s time to forget PJ days and continue training, without fail.
It’s all down to me now.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Midwinter lost in polar madness
By Virginia Winder
I lost June.
It disappeared inside a gothic dungeon, one with endless dark corridors that echoed, on and on, inside my head.
The outside world disappeared and after a desperate session with a pyschiatrist, I was put on stress leave for two weeks.
But I couldn't stop; there were still stories to finish, deadlines to meet and I was desperate to get everything done; to be reliable so I could finally rest. I was also determined I wouldn't let my mind conquer me.
It didn't work.
One day, after swimming lengths at the aquatic centre, I came home and collapsed, mentally and physically.
That Thursday night a month ago, I called the mental health crisis team and was admitted to hospital with deep depression, plus I was no longer in touch with reality.
I stayed two weeks in Te Puna Waiora, the acute inpatient adult mental health unit at Taranaki Base Hospital. I slept and slept.
Slowly, my cracked mind began to heal.
"Depression is like cancer of the mind," the head psychiatrist said.
But I don't just have the downs. I also have huge highs; times of great euphoria, when I can take on the world and do.
I used to say "yes, I'll do that", "sure thing, I'll join your committee", "yes, I can do that job", "I can do that course". Yes, yes, yes.
Then I would crash and burn. I call it the drop zone.
You see, I have bipolar, a mood disorder that seesaws between manic highs and deep depression.
I was inititally diagnosed in 2006, after my first major mental crash.
But I promptly dismissed it and even convinced a pyschiatrist that I didn't need medication because the first one gave me jaw-clenching spasms. Then I went into complete denial and conveniently forgot the diagnosis.
Through the power of my own mind, I banished it, completely.
I bumbled along through the next few years, flying high and then nosediving. Up down, up down. I felt like I was going crazy - and I was.
In November last year, I was so desperate I asked to be referred back to mental health. The bipolar diagnosis was re-confirmed and I found myself on new medication. Inititally it worked. Then the seesawing of moods began again.
Exercise helped stabilise me. A brisk walk, a slow run, a long bike ride or lengths in the outside pool drenched with sun - these all lifted my spirits or burnt up the raging energy inside me.
Exercise was my saving grace during this tumultuous time.
Because, despite having a mental illness, I refuse, point blank, to let it stop me living life to the full.
However, it did stop me in June.
In May I became so manic that I didn't have a day off work. I worked for 31 days - at least - without a break.
Not surprisingly, my concentration began to fail and my mind turned into a giant jumble, then bang, I found myself in the gothic castle.
Imagine your mind so far gone that the outside world feels unreal and the "real world" is a dark dungeon, complete with corridors of ancient stone dripping with moisture. Adding to my internal misery, these corridors are a maze - there is no way out.
Looking back, I realise now that I was suffering from psychosis. Yes, I was psychotic. I have had one other episode, back in the 1990s, when I thought the BBC World News was put on just for my benefit and the news readers were talking directly to me, but this was the first time my mind landscape was utterly different from what I could see with my eyes.
It took about a week in hospital before the gothic castle receded totally and I was back in the here and now.
I got angry with everybody and everything, then slowly I calmed down and began to feel level again.
Only then could I start to absorb the literature given to me about bipolar and begin to understand why life has been so difficult for so many years.
And yes, I have finally embraced my diagnosis, because I know if I don't, I can't put tools in place to stay well. Denial is a disaster.
The hospital staff were amazing. The nurses were all caring, and one in particular taught me a simple to way to gauge my mood every day.
Look at a door, now imagine that the bottom is zero and the top is 100. What is your natural mood?
Because I am an outgoing person, naturally vivacious and colourful, my good place is between 60 and 70.
Anything above that and I am getting elevated and heading into the danger zone of mania.
On the down side, the lowest I can safely go is 40. Anything beneath that and I am heading towards depression.
As well as writing about exercise and my goal to complete a half-ironman in January next year (just six months away), I will be passing on tips about leading a balanced life. I won't be dwelling on my illness, but I won't ignore it either. Instead, I aim to be focused on wellness.
The strategies that work for me will, hopefully, resonate with healthy-minded people as much as those of us with a mental illness or experiencing a period of depression. Because I will tell you there is always hope and light to being well. Your depression won't last forever and on the way you will learn a great deal about yourself and come out stronger and wiser.
You can reach out and ask for help. People will listen and care. True friends won't judge you and those who do aren't bad; they just don't understand or are fearful of what they don't know.
It's here that I have to say that I don't feel anger or regret for having bipolar. It simply is.
Strangely, I also see it as a gift; one that allows me to feel life intensely - both the periods of despair and great joy. I could do without psychosis though, and I may never have another episode. But then again, I could.
British actor and writer Stephen Fry, who has bipolar, made a documentary about the illness and asked fellow sufferers if they wished they didn't have manic depression. Only one woman said she didn't want to have it. The rest would never give it up, simply because the elevated periods can be so amazing, the possibilities and ideas so incredible.
These periods can also be terribly destructive, but in today's blog post, I will stay as positive as possible.
I truly believe that although I have this mood disorder, it's not who I am. It's an illness and I am not my illness.
I am me. A mother, a wife, a friend, a citizen passionate about communties, sustainability, the environment, art, music and writing.
While I have my ups and downs, I have continued to work, to write story after story to the best of my ability. To teach, to mentor, to freelance and tackle many, many tasks. That will continue because, thankfully, I am high-functioning and know that even when times get tough, I still manage to produce work.
Also, I do my absolute best to be a good mother and loving wife. It's here that I have to say that having my husband, Warren, as my "safe place" and rock is a great help.
Still, it's bloody tough sometimes, but I refuse, point blank, to ever give up.
Plus I am an athlete in the making.
My journey to Mt Maunganui on 5 January 2012 is still on.
It's likely I might be fast walking the Taranaki Daily News Half Marathon in October, but yes, the Port of Tauranga Half is still a realistic goal, as is the Tinman (Olympic-length triathlon) in December.
Now it's time to get back on track because I've just got to do it!
P.S. Now you all know why Sir John Kirwan is one of my greatest heroes. He's also the inspiration for me "coming out" about having bipolar. Mental illness needs to be demystified and the stigmas have to go.
People needing help with depression can go on to JK's practical, inspiring and useful website, which includes a programme to join for direct daily help.
Other helpful links are:
Aware
Headspace
Mental Health NZ
Balance NZ
Samaritans NZ
I lost June.
It disappeared inside a gothic dungeon, one with endless dark corridors that echoed, on and on, inside my head.
The outside world disappeared and after a desperate session with a pyschiatrist, I was put on stress leave for two weeks.
But I couldn't stop; there were still stories to finish, deadlines to meet and I was desperate to get everything done; to be reliable so I could finally rest. I was also determined I wouldn't let my mind conquer me.It didn't work.
One day, after swimming lengths at the aquatic centre, I came home and collapsed, mentally and physically.
That Thursday night a month ago, I called the mental health crisis team and was admitted to hospital with deep depression, plus I was no longer in touch with reality.
I stayed two weeks in Te Puna Waiora, the acute inpatient adult mental health unit at Taranaki Base Hospital. I slept and slept.
Slowly, my cracked mind began to heal.
"Depression is like cancer of the mind," the head psychiatrist said.
But I don't just have the downs. I also have huge highs; times of great euphoria, when I can take on the world and do.
I used to say "yes, I'll do that", "sure thing, I'll join your committee", "yes, I can do that job", "I can do that course". Yes, yes, yes.
Then I would crash and burn. I call it the drop zone.
You see, I have bipolar, a mood disorder that seesaws between manic highs and deep depression.
I was inititally diagnosed in 2006, after my first major mental crash.
But I promptly dismissed it and even convinced a pyschiatrist that I didn't need medication because the first one gave me jaw-clenching spasms. Then I went into complete denial and conveniently forgot the diagnosis.
Through the power of my own mind, I banished it, completely.
I bumbled along through the next few years, flying high and then nosediving. Up down, up down. I felt like I was going crazy - and I was.
In November last year, I was so desperate I asked to be referred back to mental health. The bipolar diagnosis was re-confirmed and I found myself on new medication. Inititally it worked. Then the seesawing of moods began again.
Exercise helped stabilise me. A brisk walk, a slow run, a long bike ride or lengths in the outside pool drenched with sun - these all lifted my spirits or burnt up the raging energy inside me.
Exercise was my saving grace during this tumultuous time.
Because, despite having a mental illness, I refuse, point blank, to let it stop me living life to the full.
However, it did stop me in June.
In May I became so manic that I didn't have a day off work. I worked for 31 days - at least - without a break.
Not surprisingly, my concentration began to fail and my mind turned into a giant jumble, then bang, I found myself in the gothic castle.
Imagine your mind so far gone that the outside world feels unreal and the "real world" is a dark dungeon, complete with corridors of ancient stone dripping with moisture. Adding to my internal misery, these corridors are a maze - there is no way out.
Looking back, I realise now that I was suffering from psychosis. Yes, I was psychotic. I have had one other episode, back in the 1990s, when I thought the BBC World News was put on just for my benefit and the news readers were talking directly to me, but this was the first time my mind landscape was utterly different from what I could see with my eyes.
It took about a week in hospital before the gothic castle receded totally and I was back in the here and now.
I got angry with everybody and everything, then slowly I calmed down and began to feel level again.
Only then could I start to absorb the literature given to me about bipolar and begin to understand why life has been so difficult for so many years.
And yes, I have finally embraced my diagnosis, because I know if I don't, I can't put tools in place to stay well. Denial is a disaster.
The hospital staff were amazing. The nurses were all caring, and one in particular taught me a simple to way to gauge my mood every day.
Because I am an outgoing person, naturally vivacious and colourful, my good place is between 60 and 70.
Anything above that and I am getting elevated and heading into the danger zone of mania.
On the down side, the lowest I can safely go is 40. Anything beneath that and I am heading towards depression.
As well as writing about exercise and my goal to complete a half-ironman in January next year (just six months away), I will be passing on tips about leading a balanced life. I won't be dwelling on my illness, but I won't ignore it either. Instead, I aim to be focused on wellness.
The strategies that work for me will, hopefully, resonate with healthy-minded people as much as those of us with a mental illness or experiencing a period of depression. Because I will tell you there is always hope and light to being well. Your depression won't last forever and on the way you will learn a great deal about yourself and come out stronger and wiser.
You can reach out and ask for help. People will listen and care. True friends won't judge you and those who do aren't bad; they just don't understand or are fearful of what they don't know.
It's here that I have to say that I don't feel anger or regret for having bipolar. It simply is.
Strangely, I also see it as a gift; one that allows me to feel life intensely - both the periods of despair and great joy. I could do without psychosis though, and I may never have another episode. But then again, I could.
British actor and writer Stephen Fry, who has bipolar, made a documentary about the illness and asked fellow sufferers if they wished they didn't have manic depression. Only one woman said she didn't want to have it. The rest would never give it up, simply because the elevated periods can be so amazing, the possibilities and ideas so incredible.
These periods can also be terribly destructive, but in today's blog post, I will stay as positive as possible.
I truly believe that although I have this mood disorder, it's not who I am. It's an illness and I am not my illness.
I am me. A mother, a wife, a friend, a citizen passionate about communties, sustainability, the environment, art, music and writing.
While I have my ups and downs, I have continued to work, to write story after story to the best of my ability. To teach, to mentor, to freelance and tackle many, many tasks. That will continue because, thankfully, I am high-functioning and know that even when times get tough, I still manage to produce work.
Also, I do my absolute best to be a good mother and loving wife. It's here that I have to say that having my husband, Warren, as my "safe place" and rock is a great help.
Still, it's bloody tough sometimes, but I refuse, point blank, to ever give up.
Plus I am an athlete in the making.
My journey to Mt Maunganui on 5 January 2012 is still on.
It's likely I might be fast walking the Taranaki Daily News Half Marathon in October, but yes, the Port of Tauranga Half is still a realistic goal, as is the Tinman (Olympic-length triathlon) in December.
Now it's time to get back on track because I've just got to do it!
People needing help with depression can go on to JK's practical, inspiring and useful website, which includes a programme to join for direct daily help.
Other helpful links are:
Aware
Headspace
Mental Health NZ
Balance NZ
Samaritans NZ
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