Learning to take the path of least resistance

by Fiona likes to blog | Feb 24, 2021 | BODY POSITIVITY, Freelance, WRITING

I’ve always been a fan of military-style workouts. Burpees, squat jumps, tuck jumps and something called a gorilla crawl (don’t ask) have been my movement of choice. But my osteopath recently suggested I focus on yoga and pilates instead, something that could help manage the chronic back pain I’ve lived with for over 15 years.

Now, I’m not against pilates and yoga. I’ve done them both on and off throughout the years, but in my head the distinction is clear. Pilates and yoga are nice. They’re enjoyable. But my brain likes to tell me that they’re not ‘real exercise’.

Sometimes I complete a full 60-minute workout and sometimes (like yesterday) I quit after a few minutes because the instructor tells me I need to contact my inner smile

When I think about fitness as a concept, I think about the fittest version of myself. It was about five years ago and I was hammering 8-10 fitness classes a week, often doing 2-3 back to back in order to really feel the burn. I wanted nothing more than to be what society deems as ‘healthy’. After years of consuming magazines, imagery and TV shows that depicted exercise as something to bear through gritted teeth, I nodded aggressively in agreement when the class instructor yelled NO PAIN NO GAIN!

What I can see now is that I’ve learned to associate pain with optimum physical health. Let me say that again:

I associate pain with optimum physical health.

How mad is that? So in trying to mend my injured back I chose the most painful way to move my body and doubled down on it. When I was told to do something I actually enjoy (yoga and pilates) I scoffed at it. Because I thought, how can something you enjoy be good for your health?

I’m just a person trying to move through the world in a way that feels as painless as possible. So why shouldn’t I access the tools that feel good? It feels nice to do yoga. It feels right. It feels easy. Fighting pain with pain just doesn’t make sense to me anymore.

If that was true I’d be eating McFlurries for breakfast (that statement is another rabbit hole, because why do I associate delicious tasting food with guilt and overindulgence? The diet industry)

Anyway, I listened to my osteopath and I’ve quit doing all the army-style workouts and over the last few days I’ve been doing yoga. Nice, boring, gentle yoga. Sometimes I complete a full 60-minute workout and sometimes (like yesterday) I quit after a few minutes because the instructor tells me I need to contact my inner smile. I enjoy yoga but I’m not quite there yet.

The point is, if I wanted to compete in a competitive sporting event or dramatically change my body then yes, I’d have to implement an intensive exercise regime to see results and yes it would be challenging and uncomfortable and painful at times. I highly doubt McFlurries would be part of the plan.

But I’m not a professional athlete.

I’m just a person trying to move through the world in a way that feels as painless as possible. So why shouldn’t I access the tools that feel good? It feels nice to do yoga. It feels right. It feels easy. Fighting pain with pain just doesn’t make sense to me anymore.

So my question to you is, what do you enjoy doing? And what resistance do you feel when you consider making time for it?

I get so many DMs from people who say they love to write, that they dream of starting a blog or writing a book one day. But when it comes to sitting down to do the writing, their brain tells them they don’t deserve it. That they couldn’t possible indulge in something that feels pleasurable….

So instead they torture themselves by wasting time scrolling on social media (the digital version of an angry fitness instructor screaming in your face, telling you that you’re unworthy) and they never allow themselves to step away and enjoy the thing they love the most; writing.

Are you ready to take the path of least resistance?

Learn more about my writing courses here.

How talking on the internet helped me overcome social anxiety disorder

by Fiona likes to blog | Jan 31, 2017 | ANXIETY

Sadly, many people who suffer from mental illness feel ashamed to talk about how they feel and this just simply shouldn’t be the case. It only takes one small step to ask for help, and just a quick chat with someone who understands can have a huge impact.

If you know someone who might be suffering, or if you have a mental health issue yourself; I urge you to use today as a chance to open up about the real issues surrounding mental illness and help end the stigma surrounding the subject. With that in mind, I wanted to share my own personal story today.

Many of you already know my history with depression and anxiety, but what you may not know is how social media has helped me overcome social anxiety in the past few months. Don’t get me wrong; it took me years of therapy and medication to get to this place. I was lucky enough to see a counsellor through my doctor, but there are a lot of online psychiatry services out there now which I’d still be open to using. As well as professional help, every little piece of social interaction online added up to help me along the way too.

Snapchat

If you follow me on Snapchat then you’ll know what I’m about to say. I LOVE TO TALK. Not to other human beings of course – that would be way too much interaction – but to myself on my mobile phone.

When I moved away from Glasgow I realised Snapchat stories was a great way to keep my friends updated with what I was up to everyday, as we now live hundreds of miles apart.

Whilst everyone else is pouting whilst using the puppy dog filter (OK, I do my fair share of that too) I’m giving my viewers the low-down on my mental state as it changes. Sometimes I’m laughing about haggis in an American drawl and other times I’m just talking about my low self-esteem.

It’s a great form of talking therapy, and lots of people have told me they find it helpful to see that other people are going through mental health issues too. It’s made me more open to talking about these subjects in social settings and basically owning my mental health problems instead of pretending they don’t exist.

Twitter

Tweeting was not something that came naturally to me. I’m not quick-witted enough to construct jokes that fit into the strict character limitations and my spelling has let me down on more than one occasion.

In 2016 I started using it to promote my blog, and before long had been sucked into various communities (mental health, blogging and Birmingham) and was having conversations with total strangers on a daily basis.

I’ve used it to find new friends, decent WordPress training and a local social media seminar that I would otherwise never have known about. It’s made me go out and make real-life connections with people I’m met online, and without that initial meeting online I honestly don’t think it would have been possible.

I’ve also created my own chat on Twitter where we talk all about body positivity. Plucking up the courage to do all of these things has been a total revelation for me after several years of avoiding social outings and talking to new people.

Instagram

I spent a lot of time taking photos of my food before I realised it’s not really the best use of my Instagram account. I have a history of disordered eating and was obsessed with food for about two years whilst I ate a very restricted diet to lose weight.

I still love food and taking pretty pictures of my salads (I’m a blogger, it’s basically compulsory) but I’ve loved using my Instagram as a way to showcase random thoughts and emotions that happen throughout my day. I’ve tried to spread positivity through my account and that’s had a knock on affect on my mood, meaning I’m generally a little happier thanks to the interactions I make online.

I’ve conquered my fear of talking to camera thanks to Instagram stories and I even did a live stream a few weeks ago. This has made me more confident about talking about mental health in public and I genuinely think I could talk to anyone about it now!

Blogging

The most powerful tool in my quest to shake the shackles of social anxiety has ironically been the thing that I do all on my lonesome. I sit quietly in bed, at my desk or in my local coffee shop and tap away on the keys of my laptop writing for no one but myself.

During this time I feel free to say what I want. I can explain in detail how I feel about the world, how depression has affected me and how painful yet important my journey has been.

I can do all this from the comfort of my own space; without worrying about how I sound to others, stumbling over my words or trying to maintain eye contact whilst I divulge my deepest and darkest thoughts. I can express myself on my own terms and although it may seem like a one-side affair, it’s really not.

I regularly receive comments and private messages from women who understand exactly how I feel. It’s a wonderful, comforting feeling to know that we are all struggling in our own way and that we’re not alone.

The process of exposing myself online has given me the fearlessness to say many of the things I write about on here in real life. I can now introduce myself as a mental health blogger without the fear of ridicule, because I’ve successfully created a community of supportive people online who I know resonate with what I write about.

The chances are that many of the people I meet in real life will also understand so now I can proudly state who I am and what I stand for, and that is a wonderful privilege.

Have you found an unusual way to overcome social anxiety? Head over to Twitter and use Time to Talk Day as a way to share your story with me!

10 things you should stop doing just to please other people

by Fiona likes to blog | Jan 24, 2017 | LIFE

When I was 17 I grabbed a box of the brightest red hair dye I could afford and went from blonde to copper one Friday afternoon in my parents’ bathroom. It was the first time I’d thought ‘fuck it’ and done something on a whim. I kept it that way for a few years, but as my career progressed I returned to my natural shade of blonde in the hope that I would appear more ‘professional’ and ’employable’.

Since turning 30 have had a few more ‘fuck it’ moments; including going back to that copper shade I was when I was 17. I’ve decided it’s time to stop doing what other people expect of you. Here are a few examples..

1. Playing it safe with your hair colour

If you like to experiment with your hair then good for you. Pink and blue hair is kind of trendy right now, but if you want it that colour until you’re 60 then rock on. Some people think bright coloured hair looks unprofessional but nothing says, “I get shit done” like a mermaid inspired bouffant, in my opinion.

2. Settling for a job you hate

For years I climbed the corporate ladder in an industry I hated. I didn’t have any other skills (or so I thought) after doing the same type of work since I was 17. I spent years getting promoted, taking on extra responsibility and earning reasonably good money for what I did. I had an office and my own department and it looked like I had it all together. Really I was terribly unhappy and it took a mental breakdown to realise my career wasn’t making me happy. Don’t let anyone tell you that you’re not good enough to try something different.

3. Eating something you know makes you feel shit

Sometimes only Oreos will do. I get it. But when you’re sat in a restaurant and you know that eating dessert is going to make you feel overly-full and bloated then don’t do it. You don’t have to order burgers and fries when you know you’d rather have salad (those days DO exist, I promise). You don’t have to keep up appearances for fear of looking like you’re a stick in the mud – eat what makes you feel good.

4. Drinking alcohol

A glass of bubbly to cheers to someone’s new job or 30th birthday is often seen as obligatory. Just because someone hands you a free glass of cheap cava doesn’t mean you have to drink it! If, like me you know that alcohol brings out the worst in you; why bother?

5. Going for the healthy option

Similarly, it’s easy to feel like you have to eat what people expect you to eat. So you told people at work you’re on a diet and the next day you want a cheeseburger. You probably don’t want to eat it in front of those same people in case they comment on how you’re diet didn’t last long, or they talk about you behind your back. I felt like this for a long time and I would regularly eat ‘healthily’ in front of others and binge on junk food in secret. This often meant that I would overeat when I was alone because I felt so panicked and ashamed of what I was doing. Eat that goddamn cheeseburger.

6. Wearing something conservative

I spent my life trying to dress appropriately according to my peers. Hearing the dreaded phrase “What’s everyone wearing?” before a night out used to put me on edge. I probably already had an idea of what I wanted to wear and if not, I didn’t need a panel of gorgeous ladies giving me suggestions. Wear what’s comfortable. Wear what makes you feel fierce. Wear whatever is clean that day cause it’s not really that important.

7. Agreeing with someone’s politics

I’m the ultimate ‘nod and agree’ person in any social situation. I hate confrontation (who the hell doesn’t?) so I tend to just go along with whatever the general consensus is on a topical subject and hope that we get back to talking about the weather before it gets too complicated. I’ve realised though, that my opinion is just as important as anyone else’s. If I hear someone saying something that I think is racist, sexist or morally wrong then I think I have a responsibility to question it. If they can see my side of the argument that’s great; if not then at least I can say I tried.

What do you do to please other people? Are you willing to try and stop?

5 things you shouldn’t feel guilty about when you’re depressed

by Fiona likes to blog | Nov 22, 2016 | DEPRESSION

Depression and guilt go hand in hand for many people. Let’s get one thing straight; you’re not to blame for your mental illness! Just like you wouldn’t be to blame if you contracted pneumonia or developed arthritis. The mind and body are open to injury and it’s nothing to feel guilty about, but I know from experience it’s not that easy. Here are some things you definitely need to think about…

Receiving gifts

I was thinking recently about how painful it was for me to receive birthday and Christmas gifts just after I was diagnosed with depression. Being unable to work meant I couldn’t really afford to buy for others, and I felt like I hadn’t earned the right to be given gifts or celebrate at all. My friends and family wanted to do anything to make me feel better, and giving me presents was their way of showing that. I know it’s really hard but try and accept any gifts you are given and see it as a symbol of support from those who care. If you’re someone who is struggling to buy gifts for someone check out my recent gift guide.

Taking time off

One of the main reasons I took almost 4 years to recover from mental health problems is that I struggled on at work for months without taking any time off. I didn’t realise just how serious my condition was – or that it existed at all – and so I continued to put myself under immense stress during a time when I should have been resting and allowing my mind to recover. It wasn’t until I finally did get signed off work that I realised how bad my symptoms were and that I would need months to recover. It’s natural to feel incredibly guilty about this but unfortunately it’s the only way for many people to recover.

Being seen ‘out’ when you’re unable to work

I was talking to a friend recently who has been signed off work with anxiety, and she was expressing concern about visiting the hairdresser whilst on sick leave. Essentially she was worried that she didn’t have the right to be out doing things in case it got back to her employers. Remember this; the reason you’re off sick is because you are unable to work. This doesn’t necessarily mean that you’re unable to get on a bus, go to the supermarket or go to the hairdressers. For me, work was actually contributing to my illness so it was essential that I stop doing it immediately. Going to the gym on the other hand, was easing some of the symptoms, lifted my mood and helped me get to sleep at night. Going out and doing the things you’re comfortable with is so extremely important to your recovery and should not be avoided for fear of ‘being spotted’.

Forgetting important dates

Did you know that depression is linked to short term memory loss? Don’t feel bad if you forget that you made plans with someone yesterday or you can’t remember what time your doctors appointment is. Before I was diagnosed with depression I was finding it really hard to remember what I’d done from one day to the next, especially at work. I ended up relying on a stupid amount of ‘to-do’ lists which were synced up to my calender and my phone and it all got very overwhelming. It’s totally normal to forget things and it doesn’t make you a bad person.

Eating convenience foods

Whilst living on Pringles and Pop Tarts isn’t the best advice I can offer you, there’s certainly a bit of wiggle room when it comes to eating the perfect diet when you suffer from depression. If like me, you’ve struggled mentally with dieting for most of your life then the will power to resist eating processed foods whilst fighting a depressive episode will be non-existent. There is a lot of great information out there on what foods are helpful in terms of brain chemicals and blood sugars, but don’t put too much pressure on yourself to eat well all of the time. That just comes with a whole other bag of problems that you don’t need, so eat as often as you need to satisfy your hunger and try to incorporate fresh fruit, vegetables, whole grains and healthy fats as much as possible.

Not convinced? Check out this helpful post I found called 5 ways to overcome guilt in depression.

Why do we love giving advice but never take it ourselves?

by Fiona likes to blog | Sep 5, 2016 | LIFE

I’ve spent all weekend procrastinating. I’ve consulted my list of blog topics which grows everyday and normally never fails to inspire me. I’ve read other blogs, spent hours on Twitter talking to strangers, been to see not one but two movies at the cinema and watched about another five on Netflix to try and muster up some creativity to write today’s blog post.

To be honest I’ve been going through a low point with my depression. There has been a lot of mindless sobbing and questioning the point of it all; not exactly what I had planned this weekend but when you deal with mental illness you don’t always get to choose what you do with your life – it controls you.

I realised as my husband was comforting me that all the things he tells me are things that I myself have told to others. On Friday I even posted a blog about Self-care tips for when you’re depressed but I could barely bring myself to read it in my state never mind carry out some of the steps I suggested. So when it came to writing a blog today I thought, why do we love giving advice but never take it ourselves?

Self-reflection takes over

Many of my blog posts on here take the form of advice. I try not to sound like a know-it-all (I certainly don’t know much) and purely draw on my own experiences in the hope that maybe some of it is transferable to my readers.

As a sufferer of anxiety and depression I benefit from the symptom of over-thinking absolutely everything, questioning my own behaviours and looking for unhealthy patterns in my life. I believe the introspective life I lead can be detrimental to my happiness a lot of the time, as I scrutinize every decision I’ve ever made and see the worst in every situation, but it has also led me to notice some progress made in the long run – which led me to write many of the advice posts I’ve shared on here.

Do I just talk a good game?

I find sharing my thoughts and advice therapeutic I suppose. Maybe we all do – that’s why they say talking is the best therapy, right? I get to offload all of my baggage, toss it into a blog post, organise and edit it just so, to make enough sense and maybe offer a lesson learned.

I click ‘publish’ and for a brief few hours my mind is clear. My clustered musings are set free to the world, awaiting a response. When I get comments from readers saying that they identify with what I’ve written, I don’t feel at all qualified to have given them tips on how to ‘become a better person’, or ‘how to improve your body image’. I just feel content in the knowledge that someone out there is questioning themselves and their abilities too. I think I like giving advice because it reminds me that everyone needs advice. I’m not alone in feeling like I don’t have any of this shit figured out – but at least I’m trying.

When it comes to taking my own advice, well….

When I am feeling as much self-loathing as I’ve felt towards myself these past few days, why on earth would I read my own words with any confidence? When I wrote those words on self-care I was feeling empowered. I felt like I was over the hump of my last depressive period and I was ready yet again, to stand on my self-appointed soap box and preach to my listeners.

My blog had the most traffic last month it’s ever had, I was full of confidence that my words had value and my little nook on the internet was worth fighting for. Cut to 24 hours later and I’m considering deleting all of my recent posts and putting a stop to all mental health chat on my blog because I have no right to speak a word online until I sort myself out. My own advice looks false, made up and as though it was written by someone else entirely. The person I am today would never have the strength to think that positively.

But I think that’s the point. I can’t take my own advice because when I really need it is when I’m doubting myself the most. We never praise ourselves. We never highlight our best parts when we look in the mirror. When we score 80% on a test we always focus on the 20% we didn’t get right. I’m human and I’ve been trained to put myself down.

So when it comes to taking advice, when I need it most I am weak. I’m too deflated to look within myself and that’s normal. When I’m strong again I’ll be there for everyone else who’s struggling but until then I’ll settle for anyone’s advice but my own.