Clearing the Air

I really enjoy working on this blog. I love writing and networking, and I'm even learning a little about managing a website. It's exciting to be creating something I find really interesting, and it's been incredibly gratifying to get readers' support and feedback. So, thanks.

I don't know exactly what this blog is evolving into, but I do know I owe it to myself, and to anyone who reads its content, for it to be as "top-notch" as possible. I need to always have an eye on progress. And if you're going to be reading my work, I think you ought to know as much as possible about my motives, and about my "chops," so to speak; therefore, there's something I want to share with you that might give you a better sense of why I'm doing this, and where, moreover, I'm coming from.

Here goes:

I've been interested in human psychology for a very long time, which is not in and of itself an especially notable thing. No, what's notable (to me, anyway) about my interest in psychology is that it's been driven in large part by a desire to, well, help myself. You see, I've gone through some really hard times from a mental health perspective. I'm sure I'll divulge more about that in future posts, but suffice to say I've experienced my own little slices of hell -- some of which were situational, some of which were part of normal stages of human development, and others which were, well, difficult to tidily explain.

The hell-slices which were difficult to explain were life-changing, and a lot of destruction arose from them; but, in retrospect, the destruction in each case was utterly necessary to my journey, or to my personal creation story, if you will. Each episode of destruction carried within it the seeds of growth and renewal, and so I'm grateful for them. (Incidentally, I tongue-in-cheek dub an aspect of myself "my inner Shiva the Destroyer" for these very reasons.)

It doesn't mean these episodes of destruction weren't truly hellish. Some of them left me so wretched, disconnected, and confused that I nearly lost my life.

I want you, my readers, to know these things about me, because I think they're relevant to this blog. I also am finding a certain catharsis in discussing them so publicly. You see, my desire to stand up on a soapbox and spread the word about mental health springs out of my own, very personal experiences. I know what it's like to feel abject misery. I know what it's like to feel like I'm utterly out of control. I know what it's like to feel as if I'm going crazy. Shit, I have gone crazy, in my own little way. And you want to know what really sucks about it, and what ignites my passion to do this? Much of it could have been offset if my loved ones and I had known more about mental health -- and I'm not unique in that regard: much of the mental health-related suffering that others experience today could be mitigated with a little less ignorance, and a little dose of education.

You know what else? I'm really fortunate: I made it through. That brings me to my last points for now -- and don't mess with me on this, because I know what I'm talking about:

1) There is always hope: even if you feel hopeless, even if you can't entertain the thought of it, and even if you can't see it. Always. 2) There is always something we can learn from our experiences, however horrible they may be. Stay curious about your life; and if you aren't curious, get curious. 3) If you're going through hell, always find a way to let the hurt out which you feel in your heart and mind, whether it's via talking to a friend, writing in a journal, singing in a band, taking a walk, playing with a puppy, or meditating alone in a room. Better out than in: release it.

We must free ourselves from the shackles of ignorance and shame about mental health. We all think; we all feel. We all experience this life, so let's be curious about it, then. Let's acknowledge that pain and unbalance exist within us all! Let's give each other the space to reach out in times of need, understanding that we are all, periodically, in need; and, similarly, let's extend our hand to help another up in our own unique way. That's what I'm trying to do here.

Thanks for reading. 

Reframing for Opportunity and Productivity

We all have problems. Some problems are easy to handle: we manage them without distress and move on. Other problems, though, are more difficult. They play on our fears, and they elicit powerful thoughts, impulses, and feelings. The resulting psychological discomfort may tempt us into groping after quick-fix avoidant behaviors which, after all, don't actually help -- and may exacerbate -- the problem. It happens to all of us. As I recently said, none of us is invulnerable in this life. We all have buttons that can be pushed, and life sure as hell pushes them sometimes.

The problem, as I see it, is when we get bogged down and knocked off track by our problems, and especially when we allow our problems to consume us. When things go wrong that really bother us, it's all-too-easy to fall into a pessimistic, angry, and/or victim mentality. The issue with such a mentality, aside from the fact that it exacerbates our suffering, is that it can limit or block altogether our ability to adjust, connect with our goals, and move on.

Pessimism, negativity, anger, and feeling like a victim are normal human experiences, but they are, nevertheless, subjective experiences. Persistent patterns of beliefs in those regards are products of what we call concrete thinking, and its limiting potential is endless -- not a good thing for the intrepid life journeyer. (For illustration, think about the most pessimistic person you know, and recall a conversation with them. If you think about the things they tend to say, you'll probably notice the utter conviction of their views; that is, they firmly, steadfastly believe that their worldview is the way it is, period.) Since persistent negativity is such a powerful experience, though, and since most of us don't necessarily intuitively question our beliefs, it's very tempting to automatically believe and identify with these negative views.

When this happens, and when we are stuck in this type of persistent pattern of thought, we have to recalibrate our thinking in order to truly move on. Fortunately, there's a simple technique -- a simple question -- we can use to help us achieve this aim, and all it requires is a little willpower. Why willpower? Because we will probably discover that negativity has its own allure, and doesn't relinquish control easily. The negativity I'm talking about, after all, is a defense mechanism, and is designed, strange though it may sound, to provide comfort against the pain of disappointment, feeling powerless, and fear. It's kind of like "The Force" in Star Wars: there's a light side and a dark side; the dark side is very powerful and, therefore, tempting -- but it only leads to decay, corruption, slavery, and death. Who needs that? I sure as hell don't. So if we find ourselves succumbing to the gravity of negative thinking, we have to choose something different, and work to make that something different happen.

I digress. The question-thought-technique is simple, and it goes something like this: "Ok, Self, you're miserable. This, this, this, and this are going badly, and everything sucks -- we've established that, right? Right. Ok, let me think...if all this stuff equals misery, and misery equals pain and suffering, then I don't want that, right? Right. So if that's what I don't want...(wait for it)...then what do I want?"

That's it! That's all there is to it! You have to force yourself into thinking about what you want, instead of ruminating perpetually about things you obviously don't. Thinking about what you want unlocks, and allows you to explore, the positive world within yourself, which is where all the good stuff that propels a person in life comes from: hopes, dreams, aspirations, motivation, clarity, passion, and resolve. And the really good news is this: Negative thinking tends to perpetuate more negative thinking, much like a trap, or a downward, never-ending spiral. Positive thinking works on the same self-perpetuating principle, except its results are freedom, joy, and achievement.

Do it up! :)

Tools

There isn't always a clear explanation for mental health issues, you know? Sometimes they seem to just happen, without warning, like an earthquake or a flash flood. A lot of mental health work / wellness practice / proactive healthcare, then, concerns the matter of learning how to recognize these happenings, and to better-manage them if and when they occur.

If you haven't already, you'll probably hear the "tools" metaphor as you explore the world of mental health further; i.e., mental health work is akin to the process of expanding one's collection of tools. After all, as one acquires and gains mastery of a variety of tools, one's ability to fix, build, and demolish things concurrently increases. Generally speaking, then, a person is better-equipped to handle their relationship with themselves, and the world at large, if they have a wealth of inner resources.

Remember, though, that even expert repairmen occasionally encounter a job that's really difficult. World-class athletes train exhaustively, but sometimes, despite their efforts, they tear a hamstring or pull a muscle.

None of us is invulnerable in this life. We control very little of our worlds, and of ourselves, even. Sometimes, yes, shit happens. Sometimes there's a panic attack out of the blue, or inexplicable despair strikes, or an old, long-forgotten hurt arises to torture us, or we get fired, or someone we love dies,  or we find that we're "sweating the small stuff," etc. We humans are too complicated and too fragile to not be knocked on our ass by life from time to time -- maybe even for a string of time.

The tools and inner resources which we cultivate, then, while not rendering us impervious, can help us through even the worst times. You know, even the most well-built machine needs repairing on occasion. Sometimes a house gets ruined by a flood and needs to be rebuilt. In either case, it's helpful to know how to use tools, because that way, the machine can be fixed, and the house can be rebuilt. Less tangible tools -- our inner resources, if you will -- can work to our advantage in the same way: they can help us get back up, regain perspective, learn, and keep moving forward.

Taboo!

It occurs to me, as it has before, that the phrase "mental health" packs a hell of a wallop. It's taboo. People don't want to talk about it. Like most things taboo, the reality of mental health is surrounded by what essentially amounts to a moat -- a moat which teems with the gnarly-toothed crocodiles of stigma, misconception, shame, fear, and sarcasm.

Most people, when confronted with taboos, metaphorically turn on their heel and run away -- it's easier that way, and safer: after all, if a thing is surrounded by a moat, it must be dangerous, right? So it's better for everyone if we just leave it alone.

Admittedly, there is a thread of defensible logic to that line of thinking regarding taboo subjects like mental health. Sometimes an individual, or even the collective We, can get away with leaving well enough alone; and when the inevitable, if rare, moat crossing occurs, we can conveniently treat it with an authentic, if slightly contrived, shock and horror.
However, the fact of the matter is that we are fascinated by the deep, dark corners of this human experience of ours. We are captivated by taboos. The movies and television shows we watch, the news stories that get all the press, the jokes we tell, the games we play, and the secrets we keep tend to contain material and experiences which are somehow reprehensible, unacceptable, abnormal, and grotesque -- and we secretly devour it with relish and indulgence. Industries thrive on it; we can't tear away from it.

That, to me, is what's truly grotesque: that we can make a mockery or entertainment out of something without having the courage to have an actual conversation about it.
I am here to tell you now that we all, each of us, contain that which is dark, nasty, ugly, grotesque, and taboo. Thankfully, we don't necessarily make even a fraction of it manifest in our behavior, but it's there nevertheless; and it is an important aspect of our humanity. To deny it is folly, for it is indelibly there, whether we want to admit it or not, and it is impossible to bury or deny aspects of ourselves without suffering some sort of consequence.

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Ahh, "mental health"...I wish I had a different phrase for it! It carries such stigma. When I was growing up, I equated mental health and mental illness with people in padded rooms. Anyone with mental health problems, in my view, was utterly crazy, always, and incapacitated with their inexplicable, terrifying weirdness. That may seem naive -- and it is -- but I suspect there are many, many people out there whose own views about mental health and mental illness are not too far off that mark. What a shame. What an unnecessary, inaccurate, and destructive shame.

The truth is that mental health is almost exactly like physical health, in that it evolves, stabilizes, and periodically destabilizes throughout a person's life. By way of an example, a person who lives to a ripe old age has probably enjoyed a relatively healthy life, which has been free, perhaps, from chronic, severe health issues. That same person, however, may have endured a few dozen illnesses throughout their life, ranging from the common cold to bronchitis to the stomach flu to appendicitis. Likewise, a person who has remained "mentally healthy" throughout their life can probably identify instances in which they were intrusively pessimistic, angry, fearful, harried, distracted, sad, "out of control," etc. Some of these instances would certainly be circumstantial, but I'd be willing to bet that at least some of them would be rather difficult to explain.

Let me say this: if you have ever had an unusual emotional experience which has affected your actions, perceptions, and/or interactions with others, then you have experienced a mental health problem -- maybe even (gasp!) a mental illness. It doesn't mean you should have been wrapped up in a straight jacket, or that you should have been committed. It simply means you're human -- and human beings have mental health to contend with. If you can understand that, then you can understand where I'm coming from. There is no intrinsic shame in having a mental health issue; instead, it's one of those things that, well, just is. I urge everyone to consider the universality of mental health. If we can strip away the shame, stigma, and taboo, then we can free ourselves -- individually and collectively -- to offer real assistance to those in need. Chances are good, after all, that we, ourselves, will need that assistance at some point.

Guerrilla Tactics in Battling Depression, Part 1

That last post had a life of its own; I think I was originally going to write this post, but I needed to say that stuff first. Anyway, as this blog has "mental health" in the title, and because, you know, I want to, I think it's okay to write about depression right now.

Employing guerrilla tactics is an advisable course of action when battling the tenacious anti-hero, Depression. What does that mean? It means, first of all, that one must come to grips with the fact that there is no magic bullet, and there is no single "cure," for depression. To be sure, some things work better than others for different people, and may take the lead role in their treatment and recovery, kind of like how the Marines are (to my understanding) the elite, front-line branch of the military. (I'm no fan of warfare, but let's stick with that metaphor for a sec.) But in times of full-scale war, the Marines can't do it alone, can they? They need the Army, the Navy, the Air Force, and the Special Forces to all do their thing, too, right? Right. So we must refrain, then, from endowing any one treatment method with our "magic bullet" hopes. Kapisch? Kapisch.

Depression is a terrible thing. It can be lethal, and often is. It has a negative impact on our ability to think, make decisions, prioritize tasks, etc.; i.e., it messes up our cognitive functioning. It screws up our bodies, too. Lots of people suffering from depression feel achy and sluggish, and find themselves more prone to illness and injury. Many people with depression have experienced unusually disruptive sleep: some people report feeling the need to sleep all day (or not get out of bed); others report great difficulty falling asleep; others report difficulty staying asleep. Depression can even affect a person's appetite. Some sufferers lose their appetite either entirely or in part, and lose weight; some others begin to eat more than usual, and gain weight.

And of course, depression obliterates one's moods. Some people describe depression as being somewhere along the sadness continuum. I've heard others describe it as an absence of feeling altogether, or as a terrible, black emptiness. Regardless, it impedes (to put it nicely) one's ability to experience themselves, other people, and, well, the whole of the world external to them. The sum total of all this is that depression can, and often does, destroy a person's life as they know it. It is an equal-opportunity problem, meaning it occurs regardless of race, gender, sexual orientation, religious affiliation, etc.; it is widespread; and it is to be taken seriously.

The really tricky thing is that, while there are detectable symptoms of depression (some of which I described above), it can look very, very different from person to person. The reason for that is simple: we're all different. Depression, as I noted, affects just about every aspect of a person's, well, person. It interacts with thoughts, feelings, behaviors, and physical-body processes; and since we're all different, there isn't an algorithm, per se, that can necessarily predict how depression will manifest in an individual. (To be sure, one who suffers from depression can learn to recognize the signs and symptoms of depression within themselves; rather, I'm talking about depression in general terms.)

Let's regroup for a moment. My primary observations in this little essay are that, 1) depression affects all aspects of a person's self, and is not, in fact, "just" about feeling down in the dumps; and 2) depression manifests differently in different people. Thus, I conclude that it doesn't seem reasonable to expect any single treatment method to -- voila! -- do the trick. No. An effective treatment for depression will include a whole-person approach, and will address, perhaps, the medical aspect (medication), emotional aspect (too many to list, but talk therapy is up there), and physical aspect (behavior modification, e.g., exercise).

I'm no shill for the pharmaceutical industry. In fact, I suspect/believe that many psychiatric medications are over-prescribed. I'm also nervous about the short-term side effects of many psychiatric medications; and I wonder about the long-term ramifications of their use. Anyway, in spite of those doubts, I strongly believe that medication is imperative for many folks suffering from depression. (There's not much I can really add to that statement, so I'll end it there.)

I'm biased in favor of talk therapy, but I concede it is most certainly not the best option for everyone -- for a variety of reasons, you know? Sometimes a person just can't afford it. There's also a strong stigma, especially for men in our (USA) culture, against seeing a therapist. Or, sometimes a person just doesn't think very highly of therapy in general, for personal and/or cultural reasons. That being said, I believe therapy can be extraordinarily helpful for someone suffering from depression -- even life-changing. There is unique and powerful value in the therapeutic alliance, there really is. It's an opportunity to discuss, learn, and grow in a supportive environment, and with someone you don't have to worry about upsetting, insulting, or alienating. It's a therapist's job to help their clients get where they want to go, so to speak. It can be a great thing.

The behavioral aspect warrants its own post. Stay tuned.

Bipolar Disorder, Pt. 1

It rips your regular life away. It makes it so all you can see, think, feel, and experience is it. It suffers no rivals, shatters all clarity, and wages its attacks in frightening, unpredictable scattershot. Like a horrible kind of ninja, you can't see it approach; or, exhausted and terrified, you might feel like it's finally gone, only to have it obliterate your mind a few seconds later. 

You have your life figured out. You can see your way forward with blazing, intoxicating clarity, and you feel peaceful, happy, and connected. You become incredibly productive, and watch with astonished joy as you cross item after item off your to-do and bucket lists. Everything, and every conversation, is interesting and vibrant; the spiritual pulse of the world is tangible, and you rejoice in it. 

Any insecurity you've felt completely melts away, or at the very least, you are able to see -- to finally see -- how to move beyond your pain. This, too, is a marvelous feeling, and you begin to see that you are fully capable and entitled to do anything you want to. You think it's time to make up for opportunities you've missed because you've held yourself back, and the mere thought of wandering off to pursue whatever fun or adventure or danger, even, that presents itself to you is explosively exciting.

And then a potential consequence of one of these notions goes flitting through your consciousness. And it enrages you. How DARE anything or anybody tell you what to do? How DARE anyone or anything try to hold you back? You are consumed with anger and aggression, and fantasies of unrelenting violence, cherished with atavistic, heart-pounding excitement, race through your mind. You stomp on the accelerator, shout at the asshole in the right lane, flip off the teenager crossing the street. Your guilt and anger and confusion begin to mount, and everything is getting really frightening and out of control. You aren't sure how you got so upset, or why tears are streaming down your face, or why your heart is pounding in your chest, or why you just snapped at the people riding in the car with you.

You finally realize you are being utterly driven by mania, and you collapse under its weight, reduced to a sad, scared, confused little puddle.

Sleep on it

We all have difficult days. We all have days in which it seems like our problems are insurmountable. At times, life might just seem overwhelming or exhausting. We might be wrestling with a decision, entirely unsure of the right thing to do; the way forward may seem unclear.

There's something to be said for going to sleep that night, waking up the next day, and carrying on with the business of living, whatever that looks like. If it only provides the solace that you've survived the battle, so be it. And it might just provide you with the refresher you need to see things with renewed clarity.

Life is lived now, always.

Stephen Fry: "An Uppy-Downy, Mood-Swingy Kind of Guy"

Some of you may recognize Stephen Fry; some may not. Regardless, I highly recommend watching this ten-or-so minute clip, in which he discusses some of his personal experiences with, and reflections on, bipolar disorder. The information he discusses is both insightful and factually accurate.