Don’t tell me it’s okay to be not okay, then wince at everything I say.

Days without eating

Days without sleeping
Days without speaking

Don't tell me it's okay
To not be okay
Then wince at everything I say

Svalbard. Listen to Someone.

I have to confess I’ve never listened to Svalbard and probably never will. But the lyric from their latest album leapt out at me, when reading an article in The Lancet, that a good friend sent to me, debunking some of the myths around metal music, mental illness and violence. 

The past 10 days or so have been a real mixed bag, but on the whole, really positive. The issue with my Venlafaxine was thankfully sorted, I’d definitely not recommend instantly stopping that particular drug, the five days without it were pretty horrible in terms of the physical and mental effects. But perversely it spurred me on to fill the days out, as stopping just compounded all the bad stuff. So for the first time in way too long, I began reaching out to people I’d always loved learning from. They were probably sick of using Zoom by now, but for me it was really exciting to be able to chat, the majority being around mental health services, where they are now, what they might look like in the near future and what other organisations could deliver the services that are so badly needed.

I don’t know if my increased positivity and wish to reconnect with the world is a result of my increased amount of exercise, but I wouldn’t bet against it. I’m looking forward to each session with TEC, even when he introduces lifts or balance exercises that I feel like I haven’t a hope in hell of completing. I’m starting to achieve personal bests on reps of weights pretty much each session now. The programme he has devised has focused on me becoming technically proficient and confident in the movements, before building strength through added weight and increased reps. I’m certainly noticing the benefits in the increased strength in my legs. Six weeks ago, at the start of the case study, I achieved an FTP of 137watts. On a 50km ride today, I briefly hit over 600 watts on a sprint. That was inconceivable less than two months ago.

It being Saturday, it was time for the weigh in and tape measure. I’m 5kg lighter than I was on 3rd December and have lost 4 1/2 inches off my waist. I feel mentally and physically better and stronger.
On Thursday I had my second scheduled session with a master coach from TEWV’s ThinkOn programme. He is an advanced clinical psychologist and I found him very easy to connect with. The two sessions have introduced me to the ThinkOn methodology and really got my neurones fizzing. 
I’m writing about my journey and experiences for TEWV’s staff intranet. My second article was published on Monday and it’s been good to hear positive feedback on it. I’ve already written blog number three. They are published fortnightly, and I’m writing openly and honestly about both mine and my wife’s experiences of trying to access mental health services and the challenges we faced. I’m hoping it proves insightful and provokes some reflection from staff and services on how they might ensure other patients have a more positive experience. 

TEWV, the local mental health NHS trust are currently in the process of constructing a new, bold business plan and strategy for the organisation. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed getting invited onto some of the work groups, working at board level, meeting a wonderful group of peers and being empowered to challenge and innovate. Yesterday was probably the most enjoyable day I’ve had in over a year, in a work sense. Two meetings in particular were very refreshing, as the challenge was to construct simple, clear vision statements along with identifying three priorities to begin the journey to achieving the vision. Cut out the corporate psychobabble and nail a vision that anyone can read and understand. It’s tougher than it sounds, but I think we got there, time will tell.

I did have a particularly grim day last weekend when someone I’d trusted and confided in decided it was appropriate to launch a very hurtful, personal attack on social media. In the past I’d have likely argued the toss, but the beauty of Venlafaxine is it does give you an air of ‘don’t give a shit’. So simple solution, block them on social media. The saddest part was deciding to resign from the golf club that has had a lot of family ties to. But there’s plenty more golf courses out there and I got a lot of lovely messages, that mean I’ll not be short of offers to play with some good good people.

Friday was rounded off with another really positive meeting, reconnecting with two good friends who I’ve been working with for a good number of years. As each day passes now, I get a little bit more of the old Blot back. 

Meantime.

Lockdown can be a tough time for a lot of people, especially if they are struggling with their mental health. If you think or know a mate who you think might just be having a tough time, send them a message. Don’t push them for an answer, but don’t be afraid to contact them. Believe me, if there’s one thing I’ve learned this year, it’s to stay in touch with those you value and those that value you. You might not get an answer straight away, but you might get one eventually. Either way, it’s highly likely your message will be read and appreciated. 

One way of signing off is this.

“Please don’t feel any obligation to reply to this. I know how difficult it can be to deal with things when your mind isn’t right and I wouldn’t want you to feel any pressure.

Love and absolutely no hugs whatsoever unless you and I have had two shots of vaccine....

Blot x