recovery Archives - Fiona Fletcher Reid

Why therapy is magic with mental health advocate Jo Love

by Fiona likes to blog | Oct 6, 2021 | ANXIETY, DEPRESSION, PODCAST

Let me introduce you to Jo Love. She is a Trainee Psychotherapist, award-winning Mental Health Advocate, Artist and Author of Therapy is… Magic.

In this episode of the Out of Office podcast we cover:

Jo’s squiggly career journey from lawyer to business owner to trainee psychotherapist
Why self-employment isn’t always the key to a healthy relationship with work
What therapy really is (and isn’t)
Things to consider when you think about getting therapy

In this episode, we also discuss our favourite non-therapy self-care activity; journaling. If you’d like to access free journaling prompts you can download them over on my resources page.

About Therapy is Magic

In this part memoir, part mental health resource and how-to guide, Jo Love throws opens the door of her therapist’s office and shines a light on what exactly goes on in the therapy room.

With the help of experts, including her very own therapist, Jo opens a rare window into the real world of therapy, unpicking the magical powers that enabled her to re-find her own voice, restored her resilience through the cloudiest days and ultimately saved her from her own mind.

Each chapter includes:

A therapy list where Jo shares her knowledgeable insights into therapy
Inspirational voices in the mental health space on the life-changing effects of therapy
A ‘From the Other Chair’ section featuring expert opinions from mental health professionals
‘Need Help Now’ suggestions

Therapy is … Magic moves away from the stigma sometimes associated with seeking help, and shines a light on the emotional and physical benefits of talking therapies. Jo Love shows us that with professional guidance we can heal ourselves and the relationships we have, tackle addictions and trauma, and save our minds.

The most important things that counselling has taught me

by Fiona likes to blog | Jun 4, 2018 | DEPRESSION, Uncategorized

If you’ve been diagnosed with a mental illness then you’ve probably been told a million times that it’s good to talk.

Being open and honest with your partner, family and friends is definitely a step in the right direction as keeping your feeling bottled up is a recipe for disaster.

But the truth is sometimes your nearest and dearest – no matter how hard the try – don’t always say the right thing, because they’re not trained in how to deal with your illness.

That’s when talking to a professional counsellor can really help, because you can get more than just comfort and reassurance – you can actually learn the skills to get better.

Here’s a few things I learned from counselling:

1. Consistency is key

You can’t rush recovery, and consistency is really important to make sure everything is roughly going to plan.

I became so reliant on alcohol to cope that I had to give it up entirely, and if I had fallen off the wagon after a few weeks and claimed it wasn’t working that wouldn’t have been a consistent approach.

I actually gave it up for a whole year, and that commitment gave me the energy to be on time for all of my appointments and also helped me recognise what my emotions were really doing without the impact of booze on my system.

2. You’ve got to do the work

There are a lot people who think you can just ‘choose’ to get better from a mental illness, but it’s a lot more complicated than that. When I was in the worst phase of my depression I didn’t even think getting better was an option, I thought I’d be unhappy forever.

But after the little boost from medication I eventually got to a point where I could make more conscious choices, and that’s where counselling came into play.

I had to make the choice to turn up for my appointment every week, tell the truth, and decide to do the difficult things like avoid alcohol and put myself in awkward social situations. At the time it all felt like such a slog, but you really have to do the work to get better. It won’t just happen on it’s own.

3. I’m my own worst enemy

One of the turning points in my recovery was during a counselling session where I was asked about why I felt under so much pressure to be a high achiever.

I was listing off all the things that I had to deal with at work, as well as chores at home like having a perfect garden and a clean and tidy house.

I said something along the line of ‘every other person can manage to do all these things at once and I can’t do it’. My counsellor asked me ‘who are all these other people?’ and I kind of shrugged and said, ‘everyone!’.

She explained that this was just an assumption I had made about everyone else in the world, when actually it was ME who had set the unrealistic standards for myself, and no one else. I was assuming that everyone else had it all figured out when that’s simply not true.

4. Rest is part of the process

I’ve always been an impatient person.

I would much rather rush a task and get onto the next one instead of taking the time to make the first one perfect, but I learned through counselling that actually going slow and having lots of rest is beneficial.

I personally got into a state of depression over a space of several years, and it takes a lot of rest and taking care of yourself to undo all of that damage that has been done.

More about counselling here.

Depression, recovery and why relapse feels painfully good

by Fiona likes to blog | Oct 10, 2017 | DEPRESSION

Recovery from depression is an uphill struggle.

I was diagnosed in 2012 and I still to this day class myself as depressed, because relapse is always just around the corner. I know I’m a total downer, right? Well believe it or not, I don’t go around introducing myself as such. “Hi I’m Fiona, and I’m depressed!” isn’t a good conversation starter.

When I’m not writing I spend my days working part-time in a customer service job where I smile constantly at strangers, although I’m mostly faking a cheerful misdemeanour because it’s kind of expected. That’s what recovery is for me – a string of events where I pretend to be one way when I really feel another.

I’ve had various conversations over the years with people who’ve told me to “think positive” and although I believe depression requires very serious medical attention, I do think there is a degree of mind-trickery involved. I’ve spent a lot time in front of the mirror telling myself to get a grip to avoid relapse.

This isn’t what people with depression need to hear by the way, so don’t go saying that to anyone who suffers from a mental illness. But I think I’m allowed to say it to myself now and again, because during recovery there was a large stretch of time where I felt obliged to take control of my life.

It’s a very grey area. It’s a type of limbo where I felt like I was floating aimlessly with my head just above the waves, waiting to be either washed ashore to safety or yanked to the bottom of the seabed at any minute.

On the good days, I make it to the shore and I’m climbing up that hill at a mile a minute. My motivation is unstoppable and I honestly question if I was ever really depressed at all (oh, hi there imposter syndrome).

I climb and climb, trying not to look back and if I do it’s because I’m being reflective and learning from my mistakes. I get to a small peak and take a rest, enjoy the view and shout to others, “Come up, the view is beautiful from up here!”

But sometimes when I’ve been climbing for weeks, maybe even months, I look up and realise that I’m in exactly the same spot as before. I haven’t moved an inch but somehow I’m exhausted from going through the motions. The motions of merely looking like I’m going somewhere.

I’m following my own advice; exercising regularly, eating right, talking to people when I don’t feel like it and pushing through awkward situations for the greater good. I’m taking on extra shifts at work to pay the bills and blogging for free into the night because it might turn into a paid job one day.

It’s in these moments that I look back down into the valley and I see comfort. The thought of just sliding down that hill into a deep, dark depression is so tempting. Relapse is familiar. It’s a warm, soft blanket which envelops me and promises to silence the noise of the outside world. It gives me permission to say “I’m done”, and let someone else bear the load of my lifeless corpse for a while. It lets me give up on this fight which seems to always end with me face-down on the ground, bleeding out and gasping for air.

So when I say a relapse feels painfully good, know that I am not lying. I am not saying it for attention. I’ve been trying to form this feeling into a blog post for over a year and only just felt confident enough to write it, because I know that there’s a truth to what I’m experiencing that others need to hear.

You’re not alone.

For more honest thoughts on depression and recovery read my post on the Metro website (which you can read here)

Overcoming social anxiety – a five step guide

by Fiona likes to blog | Aug 21, 2017 | ANXIETY

Contains affiliate links

A few weeks ago I booked tickets to a free event at the BBC Academy in Birmingham. The thought of getting to hear my girl crush Emma Gannon chair a panel about social media was exciting enough, but getting to go for free was the icing on the cake.

In the lead up to the event I spoke to some fellow bloggers I’d met online and arranged to meet them beforehand. We swapped information via Facebook and met up on the afternoon of the event and spent the rest of the day together.

Although admittedly we didn’t actually get much time to chat on the day it was still nice to put faces to names that I’ve been speaking to on Twitter for months. All in all, it was a successful day. You might say I sound a normal person in a social situation, certainly nothing to write home about, eh?

Flashback to July 2012 and I remember standing barefoot in my friend’s kitchen, in tears. We had decided to cook a roast dinner and at the last minute she had invited a few others round to join us. Although at first I nodded in agreement, inside my stomach was churning at the thought of talking to these people I’d never met before.

I stood there mindlessly peeling carrots for a few minutes before the anxiety induced flight or fight response kicked in big time. I stuffed my feet into my trainers, grabbed my bag and ran out the front door with one arm in my denim jacket. I shouted “sorry” from the bottom of the steps and legged it to the train station.

This was just one of maybe fifty scenarios which ended in a similar fashion. Social situations were simply not on my ‘can do’ list for about five years. So how did I transform myself from a socially anxious shell into a flourishing social butterfly? Here are the basics….

1. Self-reflection

The first step is to stand back and take a look at the current state of affairs. Granted this may be difficult to do as you’re probably knee-deep in your own mental illness, and so self-reflection is something you probably don’t want to do. You might even avoid thinking about all of your negative behaviours because it might be a trigger for a depressive episode. I get it.

This is a learning curve and you can’t start on the self-reflection part until you’re really ready. For me this meant a few months of letting my medication kick in before I could honestly take stock of my own behaviours. As soon I was out of the darkest part of my depression I felt stronger and able to change my ways. It’s hard, so don’t be afraid to acknowledge that you need more time to recover before you start this next stage.

When you’re ready, it’s time to identify your safety behaviours. I recently learnt about these from my friend Kelly’s book Social Anxiety to Social Success. She explains that safety behaviours are things that you do because you think they will help you cope better in a social situation. It makes you feel less anxious at the time but it doesn’t actually help you in the long term.

You need to identify your safety behaviours and figure out how to stop them. From going though Kelly’s book and using the worksheets provided I figured out that my safety behaviours are overeating, avoiding eye contact, chewing my lip, picking the skin around my nails and refusing to talk.

2. Journaling

I frickin’ LOVE journaling. This blog is effectively my diary and I use it as a emotional outlet almost everyday. I find it’s good to start writing without a particular topic in mind as it allows my mind to wander, find what’s bothering me and dig around to unearth the root of what’s going on.

It’s amazing how quickly I can figure out what’s making me anxious once I put pen to paper. You can use journaling as a way to record when your feel anxious, describe your symptoms and what’s worrying you. Sometimes it takes a few days or even weeks before you can look back and connect the dots between life events and anxious feelings.

In Kelly’s book she’s actually put together a great worksheet which helps you create a list of scenarios which make you feel anxious. She then guides you through them helping you figure out which ones to tackle first. There’s no obligation to jump in feet first – quite the opposite actually – and she’s so good at explaining how to carry out all the small steps to take action against social anxiety. It’s made me realise that there are still a few social scenarios that I’ve been avoiding and now I feel equipped to take them on!

3. Exposure therapy

You’ve probably heard of exposure therapy before, but don’t worry it’s not as scary as it sounds. I’ve actually been using it without the help of a professional and had great results. In fact I didn’t ever realise I was doing it, until I did a short CBT course and was taught what exposure therapy entails.

Exposure therapy means doing the thing which makes you anxious. Wait! I promise it’s not torture! Say you were anxious about going to the supermarket. You wouldn’t just walk straight in and try and act calm and collected. You gradually build up your exposure to the situation by taking small steps.

Maybe one week you drive into the car park every day and stay for a minute longer each day. After a week maybe you can walk up to the front door. You repeat that several times until your anxiety decreases. After a while you’ll be able to walk inside, then after that you’ll be able to walk around for a few minutes. Over time you’ll be able to add on steps bit by bit, and ease yourself into the situation over time.

I’ve been implementing exposure therapy myself and using Kelly’s book as a structured guide for some situations which I’ve found particularly difficult. Kelly does the hard work for you by breaking it down into specific examples and helping you create a plan to conquer your fear one step at a time in bite-size chunks.

4. Track your progress

I’ve already mentioned that Kelly’s book has loads of worksheets including a monthly anxiety tracker so this helps you identify any progress you’ve made, highlight any negative thoughts and compare them month by month. You could also do this with a bullet journal or a mood tracker but Kelly’s book is particularly well laid out and super simple to use.

Tracking your progress is important to make sure that you’re continuing to work in baby steps (it’s easy to get carried away once you see you’re headed in the right direction!) and also to see how far you’ve come. This weekend I had to cancel plans because my anxiety was particularly bad, but it doesn’t mean I’m a failure. When I look back at all the progress I’ve made in the last few years I’m so proud of myself, and taking a social rain-check now and again is totally normal and actually a sign that I know my limits.

5. Create a support network

Having someone to talk to about these things has been a major factor in my recovery from social anxiety. It can feel so isolating to only talk to a doctor every few months, and although my friends are caring they just don’t understand social anxiety because they’ve never experienced it themselves. My mates are all really sociable and outgoing, so they can’t comprehend feeling awkward on a night out or struggling with meeting new people.

That’s why having a community online has been a huge help to me. I talk to people on Twitter, Instagram and Facebook everyday and I always respond to emails so feel free to chat to me online! I’m also part of several Facebook groups which provide a private space to talk about depression and anxiety with other people who are going through the exact same issues as I am.

If you haven’t already, talk to your GP about getting on the waiting list to see a counsellor and make sure your friends and family are aware of your situation. Creating a network of lots of people you can reach out to when you’re struggling is key.

So there are my five key steps to managing social anxiety. It’s not a quick fix, but it’s totally do-able especially if you have all the resources and support that I’ve mentioned. Kelly’s book Social Anxiety to Social Success is available to buy online now. You can buy it here (affiliate link)

Why learning to ignore my anxiety is having a positive impact on my mental health

by Fiona likes to blog | May 11, 2017 | ANXIETY

As I sit here on a half-empty Virgin train waiting to leave Glasgow Central, I doubt anyone around can tell I’m trying to stop myself from having a panic attack. I’ve put my luggage away, started typing on my laptop and even exchanged a few words with the woman opposite about seat numbers and how busy the train is.

I’ve secretly popped one of my beta-blockers to slow down my heart rate and I’ve avoided caffeine all weekend to minimise the chance of feeing twitchy and anxious. However, I can’t deny I’ve noticed the little hints that something’s not right.

I’ve been biting my lip, twisting my wedding ring and have visited the bathroom more than usual this morning. My jaw is locked shut and I’ve been grinding my teeth since the early hours.

But still, I’m the only one who knows that a panic attack could be imminent. In recent months this fact has started to comfort me. Like most people with mental illness I’ve spent a lot of my time feeling isolated. I have a constant internal monologue whereby I talk myself out of doing any social activity that makes me nervous.

The voices inside tell me I’m worthless, boring and stupid and should avoid talking to others. Why risk making a fool of myself when I can stay home alone and overthink everything I’ve ever said and done? The voices have won the fight more often than not.

Many girly nights out have involved me hiding the bathroom of a club, silently crying and building up the confidence to go back out and pretend to be OK. I’ve burst into tears and had to leave the gym, the one place where I usually feel so at home.

So sitting on this train knowing that no one suspects the terror I’m currently experiencing is somehow, a good thing. I guess it’s a feeling of control.

I used to feel like I wasn’t in control of my body. I couldn’t stop myself feeling anxious, depressed and physically tense. I couldn’t stop myself running for the nearest exit as soon as it all got too much.

anxiety

I still can’t control all of my physical symptoms – like the lip-chewing and incessant bathroom trips – but they no longer control me. I can sit here happy in my own thoughts, acknowledging each habit like an old friend. They pop up now and again, sit beside me and we have a polite conversation. “Ah it’s you again” I think to myself, and I get on with my business as they sit peering over my shoulder.

And that’s where the magic happens. In the acknowledgement of these habits. I can acknowledge them, and move on. Feel them, and rise above them. I don’t have to react to them or let them take over. I can just let them be.

Before I know it, the train has departed and I’m an hour into my journey. I’ve written a few blog posts and enjoyed the scenic views as I watch Scotland fade into the distance.

I look over my shoulder and realise that the symptoms have gone. I know they’re still lurking, waiting to make an appearance at a later date. But I’m ready.