even keel support association autumn edition 2016 · newsletter focus in on this very aspect. jo...

THROUGH DIFFICULTIES TO THE STARS AUTUMN 2016 - ISSUE 5

Even Keel Bipolar Support Disorder Association Inc. Page �1

Contact Us

— New Details —(as of March 2016)

165 Wright St, Kewdale, WA, 6004

e: [email protected] w: evenkeel.org.aup: (08) 9477 0460 Open Fri & Mon

9:30 am to 2:30 pm

Articles in this issue

List of Support Groups p. 3

A New Baby And A Diagnosis Of Bipolar pp. 4-5

Being Diagnosed With Bipolar Disorder p. 6

When Your Friends Don’t Understand Your Mental Health Condition p. 7

A few things I don’t like to hear about my mental illness p. 8

Roger Federer: How admiration for a sporting legend helped me turn my life around pp. 9-11

How I Breathe While Swimming Through Depression pp. 12-13

Our aim at Even Keel is to offer friendship, understanding, information and a sense of hope to people living with Bipolar or other disorders

Even Keel Support Association Autumn Edition 2016

Issue Number 5

mailto:[email protected]

http://evenkeel.org.au




Recovery Stories by Candlelight

WAAMH, with the support of the Mental Health Commission, is hosting the Western Australian Mental Health Conference 2016.

The conference runs for two days (10-11 March 2016) and will be held at Fraser’s in Kings Park. It will provide a forum for learning, development and networking with a holistic, person-centred perspective, based on recovery principles and engaging the full spectrum of the WA mental health sector and the community.

On Thursday (11 Mar) evening the whole community is invited to join delegates for a special event featuring an inspiring line-up of people sharing tales of lived experience. Through the sharing of personal experiences, attendees will be encouraged to celebrate recovery by candlelight.

Promising to be a conference highlight, this event is open to family, friends and the wider community. Attendees do not need to be conference delegates.

R e c o v e r y S t o r i e s b y Candlelight will be held in the magical surrounds of the

Mount Eliza House gardens, nestled in the heart on Kings Park.

Event Details 6.30pm - 7.30pm (dinner) 7.30pm - 9.30pm (storytelling)

Thursday 10 March, 2016

Mount Eliza House Gardens, Fraser Ave, Kings Park

$17 / $11 concession includes LED candles and a casual dinner

Register Online by visiting

https://evev.wufoo.com/forms/rtlbuk0e3jquu/


Editorial

Welcome to our latest newsletter which is packed with helpful articles on mental illness. You will also find stories of those whose lives have been touched by mental health issues such as Bipolar & Depression.

It’s often said about sportsmen/women that they are more than just a t h l e t e s , t h a t d u e t o t h e i r prominence in our media (whether they like it or not) they are also role models.

Two articles in this edition of our newsletter focus in on this very aspect. Jo Lourey writes about how her admiration for a sporting legend helped turn her life around (pp. 9-11).

Also swimming legend Ian Thorpe opens up about his struggles with mental health issues in an article entitled How I Breathe While Swimming Through Depression (pp. 12-13).

Finally can I encourage you to read Corrine’s story (pp. 4-5) about how she first learn’t she had bipolar.

Your Editor, Michael

https://evev.wufoo.com/forms/rtlbuk0e3jquu/



e: [email protected]: evenkeel.org.au p: (08) 9477 0460

Open Fri & Mon 9:30a-2:30p

Our organisat ion provides information services and support for individuals with bipolar and related disorders (e.g. anxiety, d e p r e s s i o n , e t c ) . We a r e committed to assisting people on how to cope with the sort of diagnoses they receive. We provide a service to family, friends, carers, colleagues and other people that are interested in receiving information in regard to mental illness issues. We also present wellbeing information s e s s i o n s t o a v a r i e t y o f organisations to raise awareness.

We also offer mutual support and self-help to the community through group based services. Groups consist of individuals with c o m m o n e x p e r i e n c e s a n d interests, led by people with a lived experience. Some peers within the organisation volunteer one to one assistance either in person or over the phone.

For many people, joining a support group is a major turning point in coming to terms with mental illness. It can provide yourself and your family with help, information and support in all aspects of mental health and emotional wellbeing. Talking to others who have learned to cope can give you new hope…

Come along and try one of the support groups near you!

Individual Support is available by request & appointment

—— NEW —- We now also offer sessions on

personal care plans to help assist with you understanding & recovery.

Contact: The office on 9477 0460

CanningtonThe Leisure Plex, Cnr Wharf &

Sevenoaks St. 1st Floor, Meeting Room 1

12-1pm, Last Sat of each monthContact: Lee on 0449 629 228

or Corrine on 0408 202 747

FremantleThe Meeting Place, 245 South Tce

1-2pm, 1st Sat of each monthContact: Lee on 0449 629 228

—— NEW —- Joondalup

Joondalup Public Library 1st Floor, Meeting Room 1

102 Boas Ave1pm, 1st & 3rd Thurs of each monthContact: Freddie on 0439 804 061

Mandurah1-3p, 3rd Wed each month

Contact: Glenys on 0418 828 387 for location

MidlandMidland Women’s Health Care Place4 The Avenue (Entrance at the back)

10-11am, Last Sat of each monthContact: Jessica on 0439 522 140

RivertonMacDonald’s High Rd, Riverton6-8pm, 2nd Tues of each month

Lyn on 0404 022 902

RockinghamContact: Ingrid on 0412 522 387

(between 8am-8pm) for location, dates & time

YokineYokine Community Centre287 Macdonald St, Yokine

1-2pm, 3rd Sat of each monthContact: Corrine on 0408 202 747

BusseltonCaring Friends Support GroupSalvation Army Hall, 94 Kent St

PO Box 260, Busselton 6280Every Wed 10am-4pm

Individual Support 10am-12pmCall 9751 5866 (Wed only)

Workshop & Group Meeting (Wednesday only) 1-3pm

E: [email protected]

Inpatient Information Sessions

Bentley Hospital Mills St, Bentley

Fremantle Hospital Alma St, Fremantle

Marian Centre Cambridge St, Wembly

Mimidi Park PaRK Mental Health Services Elanora Dr, Rockingham

Royal Perth Ward 2K Wellington St, Perth

Sir Charles Gairdner Hospital Queen Elizabeth II Medical Centre Hospital Ave, Nedlands





A New Baby And A Diagnosis Of Bipolar

By Corrine Lorton

At 27, I fell pregnant for the first time. I had a normal pregnancy, no issues. Towards the end, I started not to sleep; I dismissed this as a symptom of pregnancy. The day came when the doctor induced me, 28 hours later, I gave birth. After a day & night of not sleeping the doctors became concerned. I started to do things that a mother would not normally do. I pushed the crib away from me; I became confused & disconnected with my newborn. A psychiatrist evaluated me & I was transferred to a locked ward at Graylands … without my son.

The first night I was disoriented, isolated and alone. I had no idea where I was, or why I was there. There were many thoughts going round and round inside my head, but I had

this one terrifying question repeatedly coming up: had I killed my baby?

The locked ward was exactly like a prison; windows had bars on them and locked shut, patients were restricted from areas not in use, staff were located behind a big windowed cubicle, patients had to wait their turn even to make a phone call. I felt that nobody understood my distress. What transpired that night was that I fell deeper into psychosis and I became delusional believing that I had to pass a series of tests in order to get out.

That first night I felt like a wild animal running place to place trying to escape. I tried doing things in stages I went to the big door in the common room; I patted around the edges of the door trying to find the exit button, which in my mind was the way out. I felt overwhelmed with thoughts; why am I here? What have I done? Have I killed my baby?



In the morning, a psychiatrist evaluated me. She was very considerate of my needs and recommended that I be transferred to the mother baby unit. I was transferred that Sunday morning. Nothing can describe the happiness I felt when I realised I had not hurt my son - he was alive and with me on the ward.

I did not understand what was going on, in my eyes, I was fine and did not need to be hospitalised. Months later, my behaviour was described to me - I would start to do something like make a coffee then stop halfway through and switch tasks, for example have a shower. I continued to do this every five minutes, all throughout the day. After two more days of this manic behaviour, the doctor sat me down and delivered my diagnosis: Postnatal Psychosis.

After 21 days at Graylands, I was falling deeper into a delusional state. The hospital tried to have me on the ward with my son, so I could bond with him, but I was too unwell and got transferred to another secure locked ward. There were six patients to three nurses and I was the only female patient there. I started to become overwhelmed with delusions of; I am going to die. If I take the medication, I will die! I have not had a baby! I just want to go home.

I felt scared and concerned for my safety. One male patient stopped in front of me and, standing only inches away from my face, started screaming, “You’re the devil! Get out of my face!” I was anxious and terrified … this was no place for a woman to be, especially a new mother. Still questioning why, I was there, I refused to take the medication and was having delusions that they were going to kill me, ‘they’ meaning the medications, I had to be held down by the nurses in order to be given an injection to help me sleep. As you can imagine when you do not know, what is going on and you are frightened this is a horrible experience. It

took four nurses to hold me down, but still I managed to break an elbow free from the nurses hold and gave the poor nurse a black eye. After the third day of this treatment, I started to come out of the haze of manic psychosis into being, as the psychiatrist stated, “only slightly unwell”. I was still misty as to what was happening to me and why. My husband brought in cards and as I mulled over them, I realised that I had given birth; I HAVE A SON. Then I started to fret; where is my son? Had I actually killed my baby?

Slowly I started to sleep so the doctors decided to move me back to the mother baby unit. After seven days in this locked ward, once again, I was reunited with my son. The scariest part for me was I had not bonded with him. I felt like I did not want to be a mother and questioned how I could look after a child if I could not even look after myself. I rejected the nurse’s advice to hold him. I was frightened and would tremble as I held him.

The nurses suggested that that bonding would take a bit of time. I yearned to feel this bond. I wanted it so badly but yet … I did not; It saddened me that I did not feel this bond at all. I was disappointed; how I had expected to feel as a new mother was completely different to how I actually felt. All I felt was an awful sense of disconnectedness and shame. I had this terrible persistent thought: I am hopeless. It overwhelmed me. I spent four months’ in Graylands mother baby unit.

It has now been twelve years since the birth of my child. I have been well for just over nine years. My son is my pride and joy. He always will hold a special place in my heart no matter how old he is he will still be my little boy.



Being Diagnosed With Bipolar Disorder

Source: bipolarme.net

I was diagnosed with bipolar 1 disorder in 2011. I was at the time going through my worst manic episode ever. I had major grandiose thinking, spending money, separated from my husband, dating, among a slew of other things.It was in fact my manic episode that lead to the discovery of my diagnosis.

For years I went undiagnosed. I had sought numerous times professional help for my depression but was never diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Instead, I was just put on Prozac for the depression.

I sort of feel as though the medical profession had failed me to never catch what was really going on with me.

The many years I went undiagnosed left we with years of cleanup over poor decision making in part to manic episodes. These manic episodes were fueled by Prozac. As most of you know Prozac is a medication prescribed with caution to those with bipolar disorder, as it can fuel or trigger manic episodes.

Though Prozac helped my depression, it triggered manic episodes.

So in 2011 when I was formally diagnosed with type 1 bipolar disorder, I was a bit shocked. I also at the time had no idea what it was or what it meant to me. I did know that from my understanding it was the reason why I had gone off the mental deep end.

I felt quite alone. While the diagnosis answered some questions about my recent behavior, it also left me with few answers.

I found out that bipolar disorder can be hereditary. So diving into my family history I found an alarming number of immediate

family members who had a mental illness of sorts. The closest to me is my own mother, who has borderline personality disorder. My father has diagnosed depression, and may possibly have bipolar disorder as well.

But that’s just skimming the surface.

There is an alarming number in my family history with a mental disorder. Though this helped answer where my diagnosis may have originated, it did little to comfort me. As I find the more answers I have the more alone I felt.

There was a great deal for me to learn and understand about bipolar disorder after my diagnosis. I was started on lithium to bring my mania under control. Then I was scheduled to see a psychiatrist once a month to check-on me, and to adjust or add medications.

I also was scheduled to see a counselor every 2-weeks to help with questions, and to help me get through understanding my diagnosis. I was appreciative for all the help though I was quite scared with the whole process.

For the first time in my cognitive life I was not in control. My life felt like a literal roller coaster out of control. I was going up and down feeling nauseous with each turn. Though I was getting help and I was lucky to have the support of my husband.

After a few months all started to slowdown and get back to a manageable pace. My marriage got back on track, my thoughts slowed down, I got my spending under control, and I felt OK for the first time in months in my own skin.

I soon realized having bipolar disorder wasn’t the end of the world, but I needed to find acceptance and manageability to make it through. Its honestly taking a few years to accept but I’ve grown to manage my disorder.


http://bipolarme.net


When Your Friends Don’t Understand Your Mental Health Condition

Source: mental-health-matters.com

You are just diagnosed with a mental health condition such as depression, bipolar disorder, panic disorder, addiction, OCD, or some other mental health disorder. You go see a counselor to get help. Eventually your relatives and closest friends find out your condition. The problem is that some of them get on your case and do not understand what you are going through. Here are four ways to deal with this situation.

1. Listen To The Professionals And Not YourFriends–Your friends may mean well, but when it comes down to it, the professionals know your situation more than anyone. They know what you are going through and are trained to deal with your situation. Your friends do not have the answers to your medical condition. When you have questions about your mental health situation consult with your counselor or other mental health professional. Listen to them and follow their advice and not your friends.

2. Your Goal Is To Get Better–Your goal is toget better, period. Don’t waste your time arguing with your friends or relatives who are giving you a difficult time. This isn’t a public relations event where you need to get everyone’s approval. This is your life and you’re the one suffering. Your main focus is for you to get better. This is the number one thing.

3. Tell Your Friends To Learn About YourCondition–Tell your friends and relatives that the best way for them to help you is to learn about your condition. They could talk to a counselor, they could do family therapy, they could read some good books or join you at a support group to learn about your condition. They won’t know exactly the pain your suffering but they will have some idea of what you are going through. If some of your friends won’t do this, then stay away from them. They will only make things worse.

4. Distance Yourself From People Who GiveYou A Hard Time–This may seem cruel but if some of your friends or relatives are hindering your progress in getting better, then kindly tell them to follow step Three or else tell them to stay away and go bother someone else. Distance yourself from those people who won’t make an effort to help understand what you are going through. You need to surround yourself with positive and supportive people. Again, if you have problems or issues with a particular person, you can always ask your counselor for advice on how to deal with them.

Take advantage of the help that is available around you. If possible, talk to a professional who can help you manage your depression and anxieties. They will be able to provide you with additional advice and insights on how to deal with your current problem. By talking to a professional, a person will be helping themselves in the long run because they will become better able to deal with their problems in the future.

Remember your goal is to get better. Treat your mental health issues as a medical condition. If you have a medical condition, you go see a doctor to help treat it. Same thing applies to your mental health issues. Go see a professional and focus on getting better. Don’t try to get everyone’s approval.


http://mental-health-matters.com


A few things I don’t like to hear about my mental illness

Source: pathsoflight.us

I used to only disclose my mental illness to a few people because I was worried about the reactions I would get. I had already received negative responses when I had to stop working. But not talking about my mental illness limited my ability to converse. It was hard to think of things to talk about. I was afraid my secret would get out, so I’ve slowly been opening up. And although being open about my mental illness makes me feel free, it comes with a cost.

Here are some of the worst things people have told me after I’ve opened up about my mental illness:

1. “I want the old you back.”

First off, I know I’ve lost a lot because of my illness. Jobs, friends, income, time. I feel that loss. I want those things back, too. But, I’m realistic enough to know time has moved on and I have to deal with where I am now. But, more importantly, I’m right here. I may act strange sometimes or think unusual thoughts, but I’m still the person I’ve always been. Accept me as I am now.

2. “You need to…”

I’ve been given a lot of unsolicited advice. But I’m actually doing pretty well at the moment and don’t need suggestions. But, even when I was more symptomatic, I didn’t need people to tell me what I should and shouldn’t do.

3. “You’re too emotional.”

I’m not sure what that means. I have a mood disorder and changing moods come with the territory. When you point out I’m “too emotional” or “too sensitive” it’s completely unfair. I can’t help how I feel.

4. “You don’t look like you have amental illness.”

I don’t know what to say to that. I think it’s meant as some sort of compliment, but it negates all I’ve been through and denies something that I know is real.

What I dislike the most is being talked about like I am not even there.

All I expect from others is to listen and be understanding. To treat me like a whole person and not something that needs to be fixed. To feel loved and like I matter. That’s all I need.


http://pathsoflight.us


PHOTO: Roger Federer was a pillar of strength and inspiration for Jo Lourey during her darkest days.

(Scott Barbour: Getty Images)

Roger Federer: How admiration for a sporting legend helped me turn my life around

By Jo Lourey

Source: abc.net.au

When Jo Lourey was at her lowest point, it was her admiration for Roger Federer that helped her carry on. Now a student at the Victoria College of the Arts, where she is studying a Masters of Screen Writing, the 26-year-old reflects on how a sporting great she had never met got her through the tough times.

In this day and age, it's a bit lame to admit you're inspired by sportspeople. Especially when you're an adult. But I'm the first to admit that about Roger Federer.

I've never really been one to hide my love of things. I'm a heart-on-sleeve sort of person, far too enthusiastic, far too excited. Roger is one of those things I love.

My crush on Roger bloomed very early, when I was a gangly 13-year-old in the

wretched early '00s; when Rip Curl T-shirts, boardies and runners were all the rage.

To be fair, Roger back then was not much better, overgrown hair in a kind of surfer's ponytail alongside his glowing white Wimbledon ensemble.

On the inside of my teenage bedroom door, I stil l have Roger's Australian Open Championship posters, collected carefully from the Herald Sun and The Age, taped together and yellowing.

I love Roger in the best and easiest way you can love a complete stranger, which is of course from afar, from the sidelines, when they are on-stage, on the field, and can't make out the faces in the crowd for the lights.

I remember forever what he said: 'God, it's killing me’ Roger Federer lost the Australian Open in January 2009. That year's final was particularly brutal, a punishing five-setter against Rafa Nadal, who pushed just that bit harder and edged him out. It went late.

When they went to present the runner's up trophy, Roger stepped up to the microphone and he started crying. He was going through the motions graciously, thanking Rafa for a great match, and then he paused and the words caught in his throat. He put a hand to his face. I remember forever what he said: "God, it's killing me."

Watching it unfold at home on the couch, I started to cry too. I was worn thin and threadbare, and every day was like that. It was killing me, too.

My mental illness was destroying me and I didn't know what else to do. I'd hit a wall. I couldn't sleep. I was getting confused by simple tasks.


http://abc.net.au


"It's killing me." Roger voicing his own struggles felt way too raw, too close to home.

It isn't often you hear an elite athlete be so brutally honest like that. That it had really, truly hurt so much to still lose when you'd given everything. He was trying so hard. I was trying so hard. I didn't have a very good grip on things, but it felt for a minute like he understood.

Early that March, I went to hospital for almost a month. It wasn't good. It was one of those places where they can't trust you with shoelaces or a razor. Think Girl Interrupted, but less Angelina Jolie, and more people who patrolled the corridor at 3:00am singing David Bowie.

There was that steely look of determination in his eye

PHOTO: Roger Federer's ability to bounce back from his 2009 Australian Open loss showed a steely determination. (Adrian Dennis: Getty Images)

The second week I spent there, I was looking at the Herald Sun sports section. I say 'looking' because I could barely read anything without getting confused, and had to be content to look at the pictures. There

was a picture of Roger on the back page, training somewhere, hitting up.

There was that steely look of determination in his eye, midway through a forehand, ball a little green blur. I looked at it for ages, because I was having trouble processing things. But it seemed to me like he had his eyes on the prize. Back to prove what's what. I carefully tore that picture out of the paper.

Later in the week, my psychiatrist challenged me to try and read a few pages of a book. I used the picture of Roger to mark where I was up to while reading The Great Gatsby, lining up the torn corners with each line and sounding out the words in my head, deliberate and remedial, like somebody starting all over again.

Rafa tastes defeat for the first time Eventually, I didn't need the picture to help me mark the words. I finished the whole book.

That June, Roger won the French Open.

Roger had never won a French Open before. Clay was his weak point, everyone always said. Rafa always bested him, and they'd faced each other three times previously and Rafa, who'd grown up with his socks covered in red dirt, was the king of clay.

But that year there was a shock upset — Rafa got knocked out by Soderling, his record-winning streak ended.

Roger faced Soderling in the final, and won. He finally had his career Grand Slam. All four. Bang.

I remember thinking really hard about that, as sick as I was. If Roger could achieve things he had never achieved before so could I, right? Wasn't that how things should go in life? If he could get back to number one so could I.



PHOTO: Roger Federer secured the Australian Open trophy again in 2010 after two years of loss. (Ryan Pierse: Getty Images)

I know we were in completely different situations — he was playing professional tennis and I was just trying to get through a day without wanting to die. But don't they both require some significant mental strength?

The next year, Roger won the Australian Open again, after two years of loss. He held the trophy aloft, went down by the Yarra to get his photo taken. I cut that picture out of the paper too and stuck it on the inside of my wardrobe.

At my 21st birthday, a friend who'd never visited the family home before saw the door wide open in my room while putting his coat down. "What's that, an inspiration wall?" He chuckled. "You're not wrong," I replied.

For the first time I saw Roger in the flesh Later that year, I passed my first semester of university. Roger never, ever, ever retired during a match. I graduated in 2013, six years after I enrolled.

A set down? It'll be alright. Two sets down? Fine. Come back and get it in five. Don't worry, you can do it.

In January 2011 I went to the Australian Open, as I usually do, and for the first time I saw Roger in the flesh. There was barely 20 metres between us as he practised on the

showcourt. Well, 20 metres and about 100 other people who also wanted to see him.

I remember watching him frowning down at his racquet, plucking the strings absent-mindedly, and I thought it so completely crazy, as I always do, that one-way street of admiration.

I was standing there and he could never have known what a beacon he was for me in a shitty time where I thought I might not make it.

And now I have written it all down, it sounds fairly batshit. He doesn't know me and he never will. I'm just a tiny insignificant speck in the glittering constellation of millions of fans he has worldwide.

So I can't say thank you. There's no way to say thank you for the years of inspiration and encouragement that I found in a stranger.

So instead, I'm just content to sit here and have the privilege of watching his beautiful game while he's still playing. Every point he wins earns a clap, every unforced error I take a sharp intake of breath. I have total investment in every stroke and every serve.

It might be crazy, and it's definitely lame. But it's all absolutely true. Come on Rog, it's time for another Grand Slam.



How I Breathe While Swimming Through Depression by Ian Thorpe

Source: huffingtonpost.com.au

Even though I may at times struggle with depression, I've decided I don't want it to define me.

I have been able to accomplish many great things in my life and I am working on achieving many more. At times it does feel all-consuming, but in the race of life I just think everyone else gets a small head start, and perhaps rightly so.

In understanding, knowing and accepting the cards you're dealt you gain a tremendous insight into yourself, attaining a greater understanding of what it is to be human in all of its shades. You then have a capacity to not only know yourself but to also understand others. You can approach daily life with empathy and begin to act in a way where YOU are the change in the world you wish to see.

I am someone who has struggled with mental health issues since I was a teen. From the outside, many would not see my pain nor be able to relate to the sometimes-daily struggle I was facing. It would have appeared as though I had grasped the world with both hands -- a gifted athlete, student with a youthful naivety and innocence who chooses to believe in the best the world has to offer (I hold this view to this day, while accepting without delusion the myriad of struggles the world faces). My future seemed boundless. This is part of the deception of depression and also mental illness: what may appear at face value is a stark difference from the agony that lies within.


http://huffingtonpost.com.au


Depression is irrational, what may seem to be a near-ideal life can indeed mask what is an ongoing hell. It's difficult for others who have not lived through this experience to understand. I can see why, when I look at my life from the outside and recognise the plentiful gifts that were bestowed upon me to succeed and excel, I understand people's apprehension to comprehend my struggle.

I have fallen into the guilt of knowing how fortunate my life is compared to those who were not born with the advantages I have. I grew up and live in a country where my mere existence is not challenged day to day. I have many opportunities and access to the best people to assist with my illness.

Having all of this and still not being capable at times to enjoy, embrace and experience life in a substantial or meaningful way that gives a true sense of satisfaction, really troubles me the most. When I dissect my life and look at it externally I feel a burden from my privilege and often struggle with the expectations that come with this. To have so much yet feel so little may be the disease that the majority of us suffer from, in the modern-day developed world.

This is only exacerbated by depression.

Weighed down by guilt and a revulsion for who you are leads and perpetuates the cycle of depression, where self-loathing feeds the darkest part of your mind, playing and toying with your emotions that make it nigh on impossible to leave the house or even your bed. You withdraw from society and your friends. Unable to work, you are left in solitude with yourself and the emotions that have incapacitated you.

I believe that each of us has the ability to shape and create our own reality. I know how hard it can be at times and I too struggle at times with this. We may be in the grips of our depression but we do have some control over how it impacts us. If you concede to

your illness and accept its reality you fall into the trap of not only being depressed but also taking on the depressed mindset.

I am not trying to trivialise what anyone is going through. At times I have certainly become a hermit and tried to shut out the world. I've chosen at times to remove myself and give myself a few days to struggle on my own, but in choosing a few days you've enacted a level of control and acceptance, a level of respect for what you are up against.

We need to get back into the world, you have an opportunity to rebuild your resilience to your torment. You can regain a sense of self but also you feel as though you're taking part in life again.

Today, I appreciate my life and am not only grateful for it but I embrace it. I am tremendously happy and I want to remind people that it's worthwhile to pursue your happiness. I do not take for granted each and every opportunity that I have.

Previously I had conceded that I only wanted to be content. I had felt in some way that I was undeserving of happiness and that I should be realistic with my expectations. Now I choose to want and expect more from myself. It makes me feel that those dark times are only at the back of mind. Although it may have taken me a while to get to this point and realisation in my life, I assure you it's worth it. I realise the wonder of the world and I approach each day with an enthusiasm that I haven't felt for what seems like an eternity. In reality it hasn't been so long, nor was it ever too far away.

I look to the future with zest, without trepidation of when or if I may have another depressive episode. I'm mindful that I work each day on not allowing myself to be a depressed person.


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