How Refreshing – Update your MHFA Skills

At the beginning of 2020, just before everything changed, I ran my first MHFA Refresher course. A small group, from a few different organisations, but enough to get a real feel for how enjoyable this new course was going to be. Over the last 18 months of course we have gone online, but i’ve run many more now and every one has the same vibe. People who are really committed to caring for their colleagues and friends, who did their Mental Health First Aid or Mental Health Champion course some time ago, and have been trying to help people ever since.

Some people have used their knowledge now and again, maybe in one off, quite extreme scenarios, others find they are using it every day, even in the most mundane of conversations. Some remember most of what they learnt, others think they have forgotten it all, and are pleasantly surprised as things bubble back up to the surface when given a prompt.

Everyone wants to be there. Everyone is interested. Everyone is playing an active role in making their workplace and the world more supportive for those who are going through difficult times. It is one of my favourite courses to deliver so I decided to schedule more regular dates. If your MHFA crown could do with a polish (MHFA England suggest at least once every 3 years) – come and join us.

All courses subject to a need for a minimum number of bookings – Discounts available for early booking or special circumstances – if you need several places contact me to see if there is a more cost effective option for you.

Online MHFA Refresher Courses – Delivered via Zoom – Workbook/Manual & E-Certificate Included

3rd December 2021
10th December 2021
17th December 2021
7th January 2022
21st January 2022
28th January 2022
4th February 2022
18th February 2022
25th February 2022
11th March 2022

Thoughts on friendship

Listening to a recent Brene Brown podcast on friendship today gave me, as they say, “all the feels”. Friendship is such a difficult but important topic. Connection. Love.

I don’t have many friends. I am quite difficult to get to know I think, much more so than I once was. It gets really hard to make friends as you get older. Or at least I don’t think my experience is totally unique. It was never that easy to really make a connection. And life makes it hard to hold onto them sometimes.

When I was at school, my earliest friendships were cut short by moving house, mine or theirs. I reflected on this in my counselling course – what impact did it have that I made these bonds, one after another, only for them to be severed, again and again. And so I tended to be on the periphery, floating around other friendship groups. Until middle school, and after that friendships and relationships became intense and complicated and muddled.

Friendships in high school were strange because there was a huge part of myself that I had to hide away – not being able to come out as bi (indeed the lack of discussion of the issue at all meaning it took me a long time to settle on a label – thanks Section 28) – so not being my whole true self with friends, or with family, or even with my then girlfriend, for a variety of reasons. But I did meet some wonderful humans back then. I wish I were still in touch with more of them.

University brought more freedom, and authenticity, and amazing friendships. It was a chaotic time but I look back on that luxury – living on campus, sharing every day and night with a group of people just starting out in life and living it with such intensity.

Part of me would live like that again in a shot – some kind of communal living. But another part of me has become a bit of a hermit and would hate it.

Leaving university was the biggest wrench. The artificial end of so many friendships. We didn’t have facebook back then, so letters and phone calls and visits were required to keep any relationship going. That takes work. On both sides. And when friends are scattered to the four winds, and life becomes full of work and new relationships, people drift. Some quickly, some over years, some gently and some in angry resentment.

New friends were made at work. My second golden era, a close knit group of people of similar age who worked and played and laughed together. Mid to late twenties for me. But things change. Relationships soured, people moved on, and those that stayed, our priorities changed and it just wasn’t the same. It became harder to be friends at work. People seemed to resent it. I’ve even seen people say you shouldn’t be friends with colleagues because you can’t trust them and that’s just the most depressing thing I’ve ever heard. In my experience I work best with friends. With a team who care about each other.

In my depression, I sometimes feel so very lonely. And like everyone left me. Which is nonsense for I have left them as much as anyone ever left me. But there was for a long time a feeling that I remained the same while everything changed for everyone else. I think because people had kids and I didn’t. And my I didn’t get to move through some of the changes I had hoped for in my life at the time I hoped for them.

But coming out the other side of that, making friends was different. There are people you feel a connection with, and those that you don’t. I’ve come to realise that other neurodivergent people tend to get me better than others. My view of the world, my communication style.

There have been times when I have met someone and they have said “we’re going to be the best of friends!” and I have recoiled. Because the connection wasn’t there, but also, it felt wrong – isn’t friendship to be earned? Something that builds over time and familarity and learning one another’s strangeness? Why though? Why does it have to? When the connection is there, it doesn’t. When the connection is there I can meet someone for the first time, and being introduced feels like, “Oh yes. It’s you. I know you. I’ve always known you.” Maybe it is a past life thing, or a wavelength thing.

And here I am at 45 and there are several groups in my mind when I think of friendship.

My husband who is my best friend.
My two closest friends – who live too far away, but who I am still in reasonably regular contact with. One from work, one from university.
The two close friends (it feels too little to say friend for people who felt a part of yourself for so long) that I have lost in recent years, way too soon.
The two close friends, one from university, one from school, who I am not really in regular touch with, and I wish I were. One I check in irregularly with on Facebook, or vice versa – the other who moved away a long time ago and seemed to sever all ties.

The people I used to know well and wish I still did but its long enough to feel weird and stalkery to reach out.

Then there are those people who I didn’t get to know well at the time when life brought us together, but who social media has given a second chance to learn about and now I kind of wish we could be better friends.

There are people I know in real life (I know – how old fashioned) who I kind of feel are friends, could be good friends, but I’m not sure how to develop that. Life doesn’t give the opportunity for deep and meaningful connections and conversations.

How do we make friends as adults? How do we make new connections?

Social connection is an important factor in our wellbeing – we grow through other people, through relationships. Love helps us deal with pain. So trying to reinforce those connections which are there, and build new ones is important, but it can be really hard. When I moved to Hebden Bridge, I was here for years before I started to get to know people. Joining the WI gave me the opportunity to meet people, but not really to connect. But over time, those faces you know to say hello to might become people you see in a coffee shop, or a bar, and stop and have a conversation with. But how does it evolve beyond that? I’m not sure.

Maybe I expect too much. Maybe I already have what I am looking for. But can I be vulnerable enough to find out? To risk testing the strength of these connections and find out if they hold. But then I also wonder if others are feeling just the same. I wonder if they are thinking if they’d like to go for coffee, or talk about life or ask for help, or company – and then thinking, no, it’s presumptuous, I don’t know them that well, they don’t really like me. We’re all daft and vulnerable and afraid.

We should all be a little bolder.

Come as you are

I started to respond to this thread on Linked In about someone who shared their decision to be more authentic at work, no longer hiding tattoos and piercings but had more to say so moved over to the blog – others responding widen the topic out to many aspects of identity and personality, that this time where many of us have brought work into our homes, has made us less willing or able to hide or edit ourselves the way we have done in the past for the office.

This is such an important topic. Wellbeing in the workplace, and indeed life is made up of so many things. We know that if we want people to be able to thrive, and perform to the best of their ability, we cannot expect everyone to be the same. People have different backgrounds, experiences, identities, strengths, weaknesses and needs. Identity and values are key in our psychological wellbeing.

Trolls on the Internet like to criticise talk of identity, and focus on issues of diversity – but the formation of our unique identity as adults is a key stage of development. However it’s not always straightforward to discover and formulate our identity – if we face push back from the world around us. The world can be so hostile sometimes. Some aspects of who we are are undeniable. We can’t disguise them or change them. I can’t disguise the fact I am fat, a large person, I have no choice but to absorb the comments and looks, and know that a good chunk of people think badly of me for it. I am not one of those people who can change that, or at least I haven’t found a way in my 45 years that works with my combination of mental and physical challenges. Others can. Someone who experiences fatphobia may go to great lengths to keep to a size that society deems more acceptable, to avoid that opprobrium – even if this makes them unhappy and even unwell. Most people cannot hide the colour of their skin, their height, certain physical disabilities or disfigurements. And we can face different treatment, discrimination, prejudice, bullying, even violence, to different extents because of peoples attitudes to these things.

Knowing this, it is not surprising that if there is some other aspect of what marks us as different from whatever “norm” or “standard” model the world is judging us against – that we might go to great lengths to change this to “fit in” and hopefully deflect that negative attention. People from different cultural, class or religious backgrounds, or the LGBTQ+ or neurodivergent communities, opting not to make this obvious at work, playing things down, changing the way they speak, the language they use, the way they dress. Taking part in activities which would not usually be acceptable for them, missing out on prayer or other practices. Sometimes to those outside these things might seem peripheral, unimportant, whereas to us they are chords which are attached to the core of our being, and in masking, changing our behaviour, our expression, we are making ourselves less – dimming our light.

Inability to live in a manner which is congruent with our identity and core values causes inner conflict which contributes to unhappiness and other manifestations of mental distress. Feeling we cannot be ourselves, or that some aspect of ourselves is not valued or respected by our peers, leads to further conflict, damages self esteem and can build an enormous sense of injustice.

If we are dealing with all of this, and expending energy on trying to be other than we are – we are not able to bring our best game to the table. It is damaging for both individual and employer.

We need to nurture and celebrate our diverse teams. To me professionalism is about what we do, about results. Making everyone fit in one “standard” box will diminish everyone, and the best you can hope for is average results. Standard removes the possibility for excellence. People need the right conditions for their needs to show us just what they can do if we let them.

It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to

It was my birthday last week. I wasn’t in a good place. I had had one of those months where my hormones play havoc with my state of mind, but it dragged on longer than usual.

A long haired person leans to blow out candles on a cake held by someone in a shirt
Photo by Sergei Solo on Unsplash

I found myself lying there debating if I was depressed. I mean, yes. I was feeling depressed, sad, low. But was this just a blip, albeit a longer one than usual, or was this a return of my old foe. Or – was it a perfectly reasonable reaction to *waves arms frantically at everything* I mean, the world is on fire. The weather was miserable – August – torrential rain, great. And where I live we are always on edge with the threat of floods. The pandemic trundles on an has amplified horrific ideological divisions. Racism, homophobia, transphobia all seem to be becoming much more openly expressed. It bothers and frightens me. My physical health is wobbly. I’m tired and achy and worried.

So is it understandable to feel rubbish? Of course it is. It may well be a perfectly natural human response to difficult times and challenges. But it’s not nice. Nor is it helpful. In that state I am not enjoying life but I am also robbed of any ability to do anything to change all of those circumstances which I am well within my rights to be distressed about.

So I ask myself, was I depressed?

Low mood ✔
Tiredness / lack of energy ✔
Loss of interest in things I would usually enjoy ✔

Check, check, check.

I kept trying to think of something to do for my birthday. It felt like such a chore. I knew my husband wanted to do something nice for me but I couldn’t think of anything that felt worth doing. That wasn’t also attached to feelings of anxiety or guilt.

Add to that increasing thoughts of death, urges to hurt myself, lack of appetite but comfort eating, aches and pains, lack of confidence, inability to make decisions, concentrate, etc, etc.

Birthdays are hard too. The pressure of them. The reminder that things have changed. Once upon a time I was the queen of birthdays – I loved them and gathered my friends around me for lengthy celebrations. Now they are a reminder of how friendships drift as we age and our lives change, and also, sadly, a time when the absence of those no longer with us is much more keenly felt.

This blip was longer than most. Usually I have a few days feeling like this before my period, and it quickly disipates. As I near menopause I am keeping an eye on how my mood changes. For whatever reason this lasted longer. I got to the point of considering going back to the doctor. Though I’m not sure what I would ask them – given my history with anti-depressants. Instead I thought to myself – am I practicing what I preach? Have I let my good habits slide? Probably.

Luckily – the days after my birthday brought a return to clearer mind – the clouds rolled back a little both metaphorically and literally. But I’m not complacent. My recovery, is one of constant vigilence. Because my depression is like a weed, those thoughts take hold and grow and get into every crack. But luckily I know how to spot the first shoots, and rip them up at the roots.

Come and learn how to spot signs and symptoms of mental ill health in yourself and others – and how to support people through difficult times – places available on my Online Mental Health First Aid Courses – contact me if you are eligible for a discount.

Recovery – Uncovering – Discovery

What is recovery? What does it mean to recover? It depends what we are recovering from of course. And what we are trying to recover. People who are seeking to break free from addiction often talk about being “in recovery”. It’s not a destination, it’s a journey. Is it possible to say one is no longer an alcoholic? Perhaps – but more often people, however far along their journey they are, maybe prefer to acknowledge that it is something that takes work, that may present challenges, sometimes be hard, sometimes easier.

Recovering from illness can take different paths too. Sometimes that path will take us from the depth of sickness or injury, to 100% fitness. I’m sure you’ve had illnesses, colds, stomach bugs, even something worse – where you have felt utterly awful, bed bound, weak, emitting substances from all manner of places, and then a couple of weeks later been back to your usual self, hale and hearty. Some wounds heal without trace. But others don’t. Some scar.

Some injuries or illnesses leave lasting traces. Maybe we’re not as strong as we once were. Maybe we don’t have the flexibility, strength – maybe our lung capacity isn’t as good. Maybe we ache more than we used to do. Maybe there are things we can’t, or shouldn’t do anymore. Maybe some of these things we can work on – with physiotherapy, exercise, medications. But sometimes we can’t. It just is what it is. Some illnesses are chronic – ongoing. They may have fluctuating impact on our wellbeing. We don’t always recover. Sometimes that isn’t an option, given our current medical knowledge and technology.

So what about mental illness? The story is the same. There is no one shared experience of “mental illness”. Each of us has our own symptoms, experiences, diagnoses. And we each have our own recovery. Some of us, may find some treatment or path which takes us to the other side of our illness and find ourselves free of any symptom, able to embrace our lives once more with gusto. But for many more of us it is not that simple.

Recovery is a journey. One where there are many possible routes. Maybe some of them turn out to be dead ends – maybe we’re going along great, and then the path gets rocky and we have to find a diversion. Some of those paths might be uphill, with many challenges, rivers to cross. It can be hard work. But sometimes the view along the way is interesting too.

My recovery is ongoing. My journey has been long, and I don’t consider it over. But I have certainly come far. And this journey of recovery has taught me many things.

I suppose we don’t necessarily need to recognise we are unwell, before we recover. Sometimes we might suddenly reflect and realise that we are in a better place than we once were, and be thankful for it, whether it was our actions, or chance, which brought us there. But I knew I wasn’t well. I recognised in my teens that I had issues with depression, mood swings, self harm, suicidal ideation, – I saw something in myself that I didn’t see in others. (It may have been there but after all we didn’t talk about things like that then). I saw myself as broken, a depressive. That was just how I was, no way out of it. In later years I met kindred spirits, drowned it with alcohol, and leaned in to the nihilistic hedonism. I experienced wild flights of fancy and what I recognised later as hypomania. It took a while before I realised there was a pattern to it all. Eventually, with the help of a job in health, and some celebrities starting to talk about their own experiences, I figured maybe I had this bipolar thing people were talking about. It made a lot of sense out of things that never had. But it was still pretty vague, and not an official diagnosis. So I started to learn. And learning started my journey.

I went to the doctors several times over the years. First time at university, once fobbed off, another time dragged by friends – mid finals, mid breakdown – which led to an abortive counselling stint. Five or six years later I tried again, and had some fund and games with medication, discovering my love of side effects and that I responded slightly better to SNRIs than SSRIs but that neither made me “better” mentally, and both made me physically a wreck. So I came off them. And gradually got worse, so ended up trying again five more years later. Briefly. And then more counselling – stress classes, CBT, guided self help – my most recent batch in 2017. Maybe at some time I will need more.

All of this – so why do I not considered myself “recovered”? Surely if I don’t then none of the above can have worked? And yet, if I compare myself at my worst – at the mercy of suicidal lows or life destroying highs, self harming, obsessed with but terrified of death, riddled with health anxiety, hording, purging, finding every day a torment. I am better. So very much better than I was. At some point, depression stopped being a near constant. I let go of my horror at mortality, I no longer felt the need for some of my more troublesome coping mechanisms. I do still live with anxiety, which can sometimes be very problematic, and issues with self esteem and confidence which hold me back in my working life. And I do still, occasionally experience some nasty lows, sometimes very nasty – which I now know to be associated with stages in my hormonal cycles. So I’m not “recovered”. I still have issues relating to my mental health which interfere with my life, my ability to do the things I need to do, and my enjoyment of existence and relationships. I’m working on it.

What has helped me into this better place, is manifold. The things I mentioned above, the medication, the therapy. They were not without merit. The meds don’t work great for me but I know it might help me through a particularly dark patch if one returns. I’ve also learnt more since then about other supplements that help me chemically too – that boost dopamine, which seems to be more helpful for me than the serotonin/adrenaline routes. The techniques I learnt at the counselling sessions – like exercises learnt at physio – things I try to bring into practice as often as I remember to avoid old habits that don’t serve me. And I’ve learnt more about therapeutic approaches myself. Studying counselling helped me to understand myself more. Understand where all of this came from (maybe). Uncovering my past, revisiting it. Realising the patterns, their impact.
I had long known I went through some difficult circumstances – not the worst they could have been, but certainly not the best. Realising the ways I had been let down, or not had the emotional support any of us deserve, helped me to understand why I felt so vulnerable, aggrieved, never believing I was loved, always expecting betrayal, self-sabotaging and creating self fulfilling prophecies of doom. I was able to be gentle with myself, compassionate, merciful. Further along however, I also began to own some of the damage I must have done myself, and see the traumas which led the people who had harmed me to make the choices they had made. To see this endless interaction of trauma, us each colliding with each other like waves, building and building until we come crashing down somewhere. It makes me feel infinite compassion for this whole world of suffering.

Somewhere along the way, relatively recently, I was led to learn more about autism and ADHD, and realised that this may also have had a lot to do with “why I am the way I am”. Reflections stretching back to before my depression emerged, to a childhood feeling odd, and different, and trying to play a role to fit in with a world which made little sense to me. Now I see how I have sought out my tribe, understand why I can hear electricity when no one else can, and why a crowded bar or shopping centre is my version of hell. It doesn’t stop me getting anxious, or make interaction any easier, but I understand an accept myself now. I don’t have a diagnosis, but then I don’t have official diagnoses for a lot of the things I might qualify for – it’s not so easy to access them. And at the end of the day they are simply labels on a bunch of symptoms or experiences. Maybe I would “pass” or maybe not. Maybe the diagnosis would be more trouble than it is worth. If learning about these things, neurodiversity, trauma, whatever – help me to understand myself, and in understanding find a new road to my recovery, or key to my past – then that is enough for me.

Recognising and moving on from the past, I allowed myself to consider a future. I made material changes in my life. For all that the past was heavily involved in my illness, the present contributed too – painful journeys needed to happen to end an unhappy relationship, find a place to live that brought me joy, not sadness, break free of a job which was destructive, lessen debt, improve family relationships. Not all of these journeys are over, some of them are still sources of great sorrow. But it must be recognised that recovery in mental illness is often reliant not just on our ability to access treatment, or practice self care, but also overcoming material circumstances which add to our distress. Sometimes we are able to influence these things, sometimes we are not.

We do what we can. And so another part of my recovery is pro-active. Try to eat better, not drink as much, take supplements, build new friendships, enjoy nature, take simple pleasures, channel my energies into creating, painting, writing. Exercise more. Sleep. Learn. Help people.

When I am having a bad day, anxieties high, panic attacks – I try to lean into it a little. Explore it – find out what it is which is provoking that anxiety, because that teaches me what I still need to work on, to think about, to find a way through. Sometimes I find it is something I have worked on before, and I realise I have to try and practice some more. Sometimes it is a new revelation, another stage of the journey, and I am grateful for everything it is teaching me. Because in going through all of this, I learn more about myself, and the things which are important to me, and what I want out of this life. What do I want to recover? I don’t necessarily want to go back to the high stress, high responsibility job. I don’t value status. I want to be fitter, so I can live longer and also be able to get about more and enjoy this world we live in for whatever time I do have, even this square mile around me. I don’t need to be famous, or everybody’s friend. I want to sleep soundly and be at peace. I would like to be more confident, and able to reach more people, help more people. Maybe I will get there.

The greatest lesson in all of this for me was to keep learning, and keep moving. You are the greatest resource you have. Recovery for you may involve the care of others, medication, therapists, hospital. But that is not always the case. And it is certainly not usually the only thing that will help. Keep trying new things, learning new approaches, keep talking.

Sometimes, in the depth of chaos and despair it can feel hard to believe things can get better. Or even that we deserve for them to do so. But if you can’t feel that hope, that belief – then let me feel it for you. Let me hold it until you are ready for it. Let those around you help you. You just focus on one breath at a time. And then one step at a time. And before you know it you will be well on your way.

New Date – 28th July – Mental Health Aware

I’ve had the opportunity to set up an additional / alternative date for the half day Mental Health Aware course in July – so if Wednesday morning works for you, now’s the time to book. If you’re quick you’ll catch the Early Bird discounts!

55 ways to boost wellbeing with nature

I’m sure I’ve said somewhere before that I struggle with Mental Health Awareness Weeks and Days. Not because I disagree with them, like some (who have a valid point that for those with enduring mental illness, or who are struggling to access the services they need, awareness is hardly the problem at hand.) – I really do think we still need to be raising awareness for all sorts of reasons, not least, challenging the stigma that stops many from feeling able to tell their friends or family members that they are struggling, let alone ask for help.

No, my difficulty falls a little into the Pathological Demand Avoidance category – even if I really want to do something, as soon as someone else asks me to do it, or there is some wider expectation, I find it almost impossible to carry on.

Maybe it is the increased attention or importance associated with the act when that expectation is attached to it – and hence anxiety that I will say the wrong thing, or not enough, or too much.

Anyway. Plenty of others stepped into the breach for me, and I tried to retweet and share some of the excellent content out there.

The theme this year was Nature, and how it can support our wellbeing. (And aid recovery from mental illness)

When you sit down to think about it, nature can be interpreted in many ways, and have many beneficial opportunities. How many can I think of? The key with this is to try and build as many of these as we can into our lives, as often as possible. Along with other self care strategies and coping techniques, and drawing on the support of friends, family and services – together these things support wellbeing, give us ways to escape our stressors and recover from adversity

  • Go Green… Green is good for us in lots of ways, spending time in green spaces, making the spaces we spend time in more green.
  • From the big to the small – I’m lucky to live on the edge of the moors, with easy access to wide open spaces, even if i’m not always fit enough to take advantage. Figure out where your nearest accessible countryside is, and how to get there – plan a trip as soon as you can.
  • If not the countryside – how about a park? Even our most industrial cities generally have a number of parks we can take advantage of. Make a point of exploring them and finding out your favourite. Take a picnic, a kite, a blanket, a book.
  • Maybe there are smaller green spaces in your neighbourhood – not quite a park, but a patch of grass, scrubland, grass verges – even roundabouts! One of my favourite nature memories is the smiles I used to see on my bus home through heavy traffic in Leeds, when we passed a roundabout which was populated by bunnies. I even wrote a book about it. Make sure you remember your green cross code if you’re crossing roads, but see what you can find. If your area isn’t too pleasant – maybe you could set up a guerilla gardening and clean up group to make it better!
  • If you’re lucky enough to have some garden space, are you making the most of it? Spending some time outside to begin with.
  • You might like to take your socks off and walk barefoot in the grass – some suggest this has health benefits, -regardless, it can be quite pleasant. Check that the area you want to walk in is free from sharp objects or other unpleasantness you wouldn’t want between your toes. Whether the grass is warm from the sun, cold and wet from rain or dew, or muddy and squishy – explore the sensations you experience, and try to feel connected to the earth. Walking on stone can also bring different feelings, from pain to pleasure depending on the texture.
  • Look, and really see. What’s in your space – what plant life, animals, insects? Split your space into foot or metre square sections, map what’s there, learn about it. The more we look at a single space, the more we see – a patch of grass turns out to be made up of different types of grass, moss, daisies, dandelions and other plants, and home to insects, the earth containing stones and pebbles and bits of old pot or glass. Even a rock, when investigated, shows us the glistening beauty of the grains and particles that make it, the different facets of its shape, shadows and spaces that give it form.
  • If you do have a garden, and you are fit enough – give gardening a go – explore different kinds of planting, space, and get digging. If you don’t have a lot of money to spare – borrow books from your library, and look out for local plant or seed swap groups. If you do have money but no strength or inclination, you could always pay someone to make your space just how you like it. But if you can do some yourself, try – not only is it great exercise and a strength builder, the act of planting, nurturing and watching your plants grow is very rewarding & mindful. Problem solving when things go wrong is also a great distraction.
  • If you don’t have a garden – think about whether you could have a window box, or indoor plants – grow some herbs on your kitchen or bathroom windowsills. If you aren’t able to do this, or convinced of your ability to keep things alive (Though there are plenty of low-maintenance options, like airplants or cacti) – even pictures can have a beneficial effect. How about you make your screen saver an image of beautiful countryside or far flung locations.
  • When the weather is dry, and the sky is blue, preferably with clouds – find a safe space to lay out a blanket or coat, and lie down. Look at the sky. Watch the clouds. The endless shifting of the skies. Look for imagery in the clouds, see how they come and go.
  • When the weather is dry and the sky is clear, at night – find a safe space to lay out a blanket or coat, (wrap up warm), and lie down. Look up at the stars. If you can go somewhere as far as possible from streetlights, all the better. Go with a friend. Look at the endless universe, see the constellations, the satellites, the planets. Look at the blackness in between and know that it is full of light, just that you cannot see it with your eyes. (Remember that this is what the Hubble found when picking a spot of darkness to look into). `When the weather is wet – go out for a little while without an umbrella, let the rain wash your face, your arms and hands. Feel each drop as it trickles down your neck. It can be quite freeing to cry in the rain, if you need to. I feel like the sky is crying with me.
Hubble Ultra Deep Field Image
  • Let the wind blow your cobwebs away. Feel it on your skin and in your hair.
  • (Make sure you get dry and warm after 12 or 13 – revel in the contrast between the cold wind and rain, and warm towels, hot tea, coffee or cocoa)
  • If you can – go for a walk, run, ride or wheel in nature. In the wildest place it is safe for you to go. Go somewhere you are unsure about. Take a map. Keep your phone charged and keep an eye on your signal. Make sure someone knows where you are going. Watch your footing. Walk until you stop thinking about your worries and then keep walking until you start having ideas. Walk until you are out of breath. Try do this as often as possible.
  • Go to the highest place you can and look out at the horizon. Look at the world around you. See the stillness, and the movement. Look out for people and creatures living their lives. Try to imagine what they are thinking and feeling. Look at the rocks and the trees. How long have they been there? What have they seen? How many lives have been lived and lost while they stood by?
  • Seek out water. Do you live by the sea? Can you visit? Go paddling or swimming, or sit and let the waves wash over you for a moment.
  • Feel the warm sand under your bare feet
  • Pick up a handful of dry sand and let it spill through your fingers
  • Look at a handful of sand, each chrystaline grain, tiny seashell.
  • Find the best pebbles or shells on the beach, the shiniest, the most interesting shapes, beautiful colours. Pick one to give to each of your friends and one for yourself.
  • Make sandcastles. Sand cities, Recreate the canals of Venice in the sand.
  • Dig a hole
  • Get someone to cover you in sand except for your head
  • Make a sand sculpture
  • Look for rock pools and shellfish.
  • Watch a crab
  • Go fishing with a net (and put them back)
  • Go to a lake or reservoir – walk around it or along the shore line
  • Go and find some waterfalls – bonus points if you can stand under them or let the water wash over your hands
  • Take up wild swimming (safely)
  • Walk along your nearest river, stream or canal. Look out for wild life in, near or around the water.
  • Put a pond or water feature in your garden
  • Look for life wherever you are.
  • Learn about and watch birds – listen to their song, notice the colours of their plumage. Watch the soap operas of their lives
  • Learn about the animals in your area – get involved in their protection.
  • Visit bird sanctuaries, nature reserves, butterfly houses, zoos or safari parks. (Look into them first to make sure they are looking after the animals and contributing to conservation) Get to know some critters.
  • Go and look at some farm animals – either in the countryside or at an urban farm. This is a great time to see lambs and foals. Watch sheep, horses, cows, wandering about their fields. Slow down to their pace.
  • Make friends with bugs.
  • Make the most of your pets! Especially the furry ones. Spend some time playing with them, stroking, massaging, looking them in the eyes. Learn how they communicate and tell them you love them. Share some valuable oxytocin by having a cuddle.
  • Go foraging! Preferably with someone knowledgeable – enjoy the fruits of nature. Especially enjoyable when the berries come out. Don’t eat anything you aren’t sure about – especially mushrooms/fungi.
  • Go berry picking and get enough to make something delicious when you get home. Muffins are easy and tasty, as is a crumble.
  • Visit some open gardens – enjoy the flowers and learn about them
  • Find a sensory garden, or a herb garden, and smell the different plants, enjoy the different scents. Smell the roses!
  • Explore the different textures of nature. Cold hard rock, smooth damp leaves, soft warm fur, sharp thorns, rough stone, cool water, warm mud, dry sand.
  • Make a snow man
  • Have a snowball fight
  • Build an igloo
  • Eat (clean) snow
  • Have an icicle sword fight.
  • Sunbathe (with suncream on)
  • Read a book in the sunshine
  • Join a walking/cycling/running/fell running etc group
  • Watch a documentary about animals, plants, the planet, space, the weather
  • Learn about the aspects of nature that interest you most

I could keep going with this forever. Remembering we are part of nature is a huge part of my recovery – much of our stress and anxiety comes from lives which remove us from nature, the rhythms of life, the benefits of air and sun and exercise and watching the cycle of life. Find a way to reconnect. Remember you are nature too.

What do you mean I’m not perfect?

People seemed to like my painting last month so here’s April’s effort – the Packhorse Bridge and Wavy steps in my home tome Hebden Bridge in West Yorkshire. I thought I’d use this painting as a jumping off point on some thoughts around mental health.

Painting of packhorse bridge and wavy steps in Hebden Bridge, houses in the background, the White Swan pub, people on the steps and children paddling in the river.
Packhorse Bridge & Wavy Steps – Hebden Bridge

I was showing it to my mum the other day, and she pointed out something she thought could be improved. Which is ok. I’m never completely happy with anything I do. I’m a bit of a perfectionist. Which is a shame because perfection is almost impossible. And in truth sometimes it is life’s imperfections which are the most beautiful. But yeah – she picked on the spot I was least happy with. And truth be told I might go back and work on it a bit more, because I’m always learning. But even if I manage to improve on that – there’ll still be something my eye will be drawn to, that I think is not good enough. I know I have a problem with this.

We all have a tendency to lean towards the negative. To focus on the problems. It’s natural, and important, and it keeps us safe. Because it’s not the sturdy, healthy planks on the rickety bridge we need to worry about, but the ones that are half rotten and might have us plunging to our deaths. But sometimes we can become so fixated on those problem planks that we don’t see that actually we can cross quite safely regardless.

Sometimes that natural negative mental filter goes into overdrive, and it blows small negatives out of all proportion, makes us think something is ruined if it isn’t perfect. Makes us disregard anything positive that is going on. Me fixating on that one bit I don’t like on the painting, ignoring other bits I quite like, like the stonework on the bridge, or the water under the arches, or the overall impression, which is at the very least OK.

Just as I might be chuffed to receive some fantastic feedback on a course, but I won’t remember it, or dwell on it as long as that time someone said something quite unkind – that frankly reflects more on them than it does my performance, but still makes me feel like i’m a failure.

It’s all down to acceptance. If I’m not perfect, don’t do a good enough job, don’t paint as well as Leonardo da Vinci – then maybe people won’t accept me, maybe I will be rejected, maybe I will be turned out of my house, community, and be alone and cold and wet and friendless and in danger.

Daft, I know. But somewhere in my ancient lizard brain that’s what I’m thinking. And I can recognise it, and know it’s silly, but it takes a lot of work to get to a place where i’m ok with not being perfect. Not being liked even. To listen more to the good things – to process and learn from the bad, but also realise I can disagree. Learning to accept our selves, recognise and celebrate our strengths. Let go of perfection.

Hebden Bridge has helped me on that journey – a supportive community where I find it easier to be myself. Lots of opportunities for creative expression. Wild, beautiful nature to get outside and gain a sense of perspective on life. Come visit sometime, when it’s safe – cafes, pubs, wonderful shops and galleries, walking and woods, canals and mills. Lots of paddling opportunities.

Come and learn more about mental health with me on one of my online courses – Mental Health First Aid, Mental Health Awareness and more.

Off Topic(ish) – Sarah Long Art

One of the many ways I have been helping keep my mental health in a good place this past year, has been painting. It’s always been good for me – I enjoy it immensely and find it a very mindful activity – focussed attention, challenging action. But I’ve always found it hard to give myself permission to spend the time on it, or build up a habit. However – after managing a couple of paintings last year, I made a resolution to try and do one a month in 2021.

I’ve shared these on twitter and linked in and a few people have expressed an interest in seeing more. I am going to look at doing a range of high quality prints in summer, – so will probably be setting up a site or page to show them off, with better, clearer pictures – but for now here are some of my more recent works. I’m open to suggestion for future topics – this year I’m keeping to Yorkshire – alternating between more local to Hebden Bridge and further afield.

Whitby, North Yorkshire
Old Town Mill, Hebden Bridge
Kirkgate Market, Leeds
Pecket Well, Hebden Bridge
Piece Hall, Halifax
Birchcliffe, Hebden Bridge

Checkpoint 20/21

April has long been a time of reflection and planning for me – years of working in an organisation where performance review, business planning and financial year end were all jumbled together. I don’t have a boss any more to make me do it so indulge me while I naval gaze for a moment. It is as good a time as any to reflect on the year gone by, and set out hopes for the new. .

And what a year we have to reflect on.

My prayers are with those we have lost, and my love to those who bear this bereavement most closely. Many of us have faced significant stress and hardship in this last year, I hope that we find the days to come brighter and easier.

This time last year I had no idea what the future held. I only knew that all my work had been cancelled and I didn’t have any savings. But I had my health and the sun was shining so I tried to count my blessings and hope for the best.

Thankfully I was able to adapt, and gradually make the shift to online training – working with a variety of organisations over the year, qualifying to deliver new courses, learning new skills & platforms, trying to push myself to use some new tools and take up new opportunities. It hasn’t been easy and there were big chunks of time where things were very uncertain (and no doubt there will be more to come) – but to say that I managed to help 485 people learn to understand mental health in a variety of ways over the past year is astounding.

My enormous thanks to MHFA England for the work they have done to set up the online learning platform and adapt courses for online delivery. Also for the variety of opportunities to feed back and communicate with them, and other trainers in a similar position – which has been an enormous improvement on previous years and provided emotional support which has really helped get me through. And I know I’m not alone in thinking that.

I’ve learnt a lot in this unusual year, about my abilities, preferences, priorities. I think many of us have. With my fingers firmly crossed that this current roadmap does lead us back to a safe and open future – I hope we hold on to that learning. Recognise what we are capable of in a crisis. Appreciate what we liked or enjoyed about the last year – and try not to let it go. And of course relish being able to return to those things that we have missed, sooner or later. Not take them for granted again too soon either.

I am nervous about it. My anxiety took a back seat for a good while last year – my introverted, neurodivergent self is quite well suited to lockdown life. But it found ways to re-emerge. I have been lonely, but find some of the wonderful efforts of ongoing community and connection that I have seen to be even more isolating. Seeing others connect when you don’t is saddening. I will continue to be anxious about my health, and others’ – I had health anxiety before the pandemic, 150,000 deaths has done little to assuage that. But all I can do is take precautions. Be careful. Weigh up the risks against the benefits of each action. The early part of 2021 was difficult, I have had some moments where depression has reared its head and with it old urges to respond to my distress in a variety of unhelpful or unhealthy ways. But with the love of my husband I shake it off, mostly.

Anyway. What are my personal positive and negatives? Achievements or regrets. And what do I hope for the year to come.


Online training – love the new course format
Great feedback from delegates
Meeting and getting to know other trainers
Going on the radio
Doing a podcast
Doing some Facebook video/lives
Exploring new online content options
Completing the Science of Happiness course
Learning something new every day (J’apprends le francais avec Duo…)
Making myself paint
Delivering 56 courses, reaching 485 people
Qualifying to deliver 2 new courses
Volunteering with SHOUT to offer support via text to people in crisis (Text SHOUT to 85258)
No lugging heavy suitcases hundreds of miles on trains
Spending more time with my husband and cats
New pen pal


Not seeing family & friends
Cancellation of work with organisations I like working with
Cancellation of open courses due to lack of bookings
No face to face training conversations
Eating too many biscuits
Financial insecurity
Not getting enough exercise
Health anxiety
Forgetting how to interact with others
Worrying about societal divisions
Worrying about splits in my community
Worrying for others who are more at risk than I (health or finance wise)
Too much time on screen – bad for eyes and RSI

Plans for future
Go back to doing more audio / video
Developing new courses / training options
> Wellbeing course
> Mental Health Masterclass for Employers
Return to some face to face training?
Continuing with online training.
Making new connections with clients
Get my garden in hand
Writing more.
Keep learning
Keep painting
Get prints done and set up art sales.
More exercise!
Seeing Parents and Friends!
Visiting the seaside.
Supporting local shops, pubs, restaurants and venues where I can
Pursue Coaching & Mentoring training
Get therapy.

What are your take-aways from this year? What are your plans for the future? It may take a while to get there, but that just gives us more time to plan and prepare.