Mental Health and running – the house where hope lives

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Today, among all the athletics at the Olympics, I became part of a relay team. A baton was passed to me by Liz (@4races4cities) who looked pretty fresh after her efforts, to be fair. She didn’t have a red face and crazy hair or anything! But that’s because this is a different type of relay with less sweating and more typing. It’s a blog relay on the subject of Hope.

Liz’s inspiring piece formed her stretch of the run and now it’s on to me to keep up the momentum…

Hope is a fragile thing. It’s like a dandelion seed, it might just float by at any time, and just as quickly be swept away. Hope is different for everyone, like the dandelion seed, one man’s hope is another man’s hayfever.

Sadly, when you’re at your lowest, hope seems incredibly difficult to find. When it does appear you almost want to cling to it, it’s quite a fragile feeling but one you want to keep. So I went a step further and built a house for it, a house where hope lives…

…well actually more of a bungalow…

During my recovery from anxiety, I use a variety of relaxation techniques to help calm my mind. I started with downloaded ones from the Mental Health Foundation and gradually started to create ones of my own, taking bits I liked from the various approaches. I’d start by listening to my breathing for a few minutes, trying to focus on feeling the breath move in and out, a technique many will be familiar with. When I felt a bit more relaxed I’d then imagine myself in a house. I’d try to imagine it in as much detail as possible, including sights, sounds, smells and feelings. This may all sound odd to others but it was a way to experience positive feelings again when it seemed almost impossible to do so. I created places and objects for these feelings;

A big ceramic jug was filled with ‘looking forward to’ juice – I’d top it up with thoughts of things I could look forward to, even a glimpse of this feeling could be added. It soon filled, a drop or two at a time. I’d imagine carrying it around, big and full and heavy, sloshing about. Then I’d pour myself a glass and enjoy those feelings again. A square box with a slot in the top was my “yes” box. I’d think of things I’d said “yes” to or been positive about, imagine writing them on a card, along with all the positives that came with them and then pop them in the box. A vase of lilies sat on a table, with a magnifying glass attached to the vase by a piece of string. This was my ‘beauty magnifying glass’ to allow me to see the beauty I was missing out on by being filled with anxiety.

In the middle of the room, abseiling from a light fitting, was a ‘no rush’ spider, just hanging there enjoying the view. He reminded me to slow down and just take things in. The house had big windows looking out over a magnificent view, above each window was written “The Bigger Picture“. Rooms were decorated with pictures of family and friends and nice moments captured to see. One picture, in particular, had pride of place, it showed two hands, cupped together holding water. Beneath it, a little plaque read,

“These hands are full with nice feelings, but you can’t keep hold of them, they slip through your fingers. Just remember your hands have been full and will be again“

When I struggled to be positive or feel any hope, the house was a place where I could go during my relaxation and access those feelings again, dwell on the positives, immerse myself in them and start to feel hope again. I enjoyed being creative too, each visit I would discover something new to cherish, something else to add.

Another part of this relaxation was acknowledging another ‘house’ in my mind. Over the road was a broken-down, dilapidated wreck of a house. It was here that I kept the negative feelings that came with my anxiety. The garden was overgrown with ‘worry weeds’ – thick vines that wrapped around your ankles and dragged you down into worry. When you struggled free of one, another would take hold. Inside was murky, dark and dank. A tiny dirty window restricted my view of the world, so I only saw grey. The walls were covered in graffiti that almost seemed to glow, insisting you saw negative thoughts and reacted to them. It was a place of ‘urgency’ a need to worry now. A place of ‘worst-case scenario’. A place where I felt I couldn’t cope.

It might sound odd then that as part of my relaxation I chose to visit this place. At first, it would just be a few minutes, then I grew in confidence. In time I could imagine myself strolling over to the house, planting a deck chair in the middle of the room and just sitting there, in the middle of all those feelings, quite comfortable, at ease with them. So much of my anxiety was trying to avoid negative feelings, it was important to let myself experience them. Then finally I sat in the house, kicked away a weed and decided, “it’s time I redecorated!“

My relaxation techniques were hugely helpful and if you’re struggling with your mental health you may find you can create a place for your positive feelings too, no matter how small or distant those feelings might seem at the moment. Even if they are memories from the past, they can help you find hope for the future.

My leg of this blog relay is over I’m reaching out the baton… Who’d like to take it on? Sophie – @tufftybluey? Hallie – @AGirlWhoListens? Louise – @Feinics11? @Smile__Epidemic