What a challenging time. I think God is playing a game with me – a game in which he forgot to explain the rules and I am stumbling in the dark.
If I haven’t had a drink over the past weeks, I don’t think I ever will. Or maybe I shouldn’t write that? Is it tempting fate? (I know life is difficult but, come on, where’s the break?) Delete?
I treat the management of my mental health like a job and just as in a job, the more you put in, the more you get out. So, when tested, I give myself a bonus for a job well done. For example, having a manicure or a pedicure is much more about my head than my hands or feet. While I’m being pampered, I have time to stop and think and put my rambled thoughts in order.
Thoughts of alcohol still visit me without an invitation. Not all the time but when struggling with everyday life, the thought of a glass of wine is forefront in my mind. I need to be extra vigilant and on top of my game to mute the voice harping on about, “one glass wouldn’t hurt”. The fact that I would even have the thought frightens me. Why, after over three years of sobriety, would a thought like that come into my head?
It is sobering, no pun intended.
I stopped believing in hell sometime around my teen years, but, recently I have reverted to thinking there may be a hell and I think these challenges are sent to test me and if I pass them, then when I die, I’ll go straight to heaven. I never liked the idea of eternity, well not if one was in hell, but there has been a repeating pattern in my life where challenges are the norm and peace and tranquillity are rare visitors.
It is difficult to avoid the subject of mental health. It is in our newspapers, magazines and on our radios and televisions, not to mention a myriad of books published on the subject. Yet, it is still taboo to raise the issue around the table at a dinner party or, after a game of tennis mention that you need to pick up your prescription for your antidepressants on your way home. Managing one’s mental health is different for everyone. Antidepressants may be the answer for some and, if it is, there ought to be no shame about taking them.
But there are other options.
Sea swimming. Yes, I know it’s not for everyone but once you’ve got over the shock of dipping your big toe in the water try to get down straight away as any delays will prolong the torture. If you submerge your head, the result will be even better. For some people (me) getting hair wet is not something we like to do. The therapeutic minerals will work their magic (or the cold numbs your mind). Interestingly, one of the minerals found in the sea is lithium. A drug doctors use to stabilise moods. Being frightened of doing something and then doing it is very liberating and should be practised often.
[ How and why to sea swim: walk in slowly wetting your shoulders, if you likeOpens in new window ]
Walk in nature. Its importance is underrated and undervalued. Yes, we all know it’s good for us, but how many of us step out the door in a crisis? No, we prefer to sit on our sofas and ruminate and catastrophise.
Music. Listening to music can be powerful. Hearing a favourite song can positively lift one’s mood and if the music has an upbeat rhythm, can have us tapping our feet in rhythm with the beat. That’s got to be good for us.
A cup of coffee with a friend. Double the effect if it’s sitting outside in the sunshine.
Sitting in the garden, back to the sun reading a good book; the sound of children playing in the schoolyard during morning break; walking along a beach wind to my back; checking the scores and finding I came first in the bridge competition (I’m running away with myself here, but you get the idea).
Gratitude. This reigns high in my orbit. It wasn’t always so. I recall buying a book on the subject believing that reading it would solve all my problems. But I found I compared myself unfavourably with the author, who, in my opinion, “had it all”. Thankfully, I kept the theme of gratitude in my life and it grew from something I halfheartedly believed in to what it means to me today. It was a long gestation but worth the wait. I have learned that being grateful translates into a warm feeling in my body. When things become overwhelming, I think of right now and everything is all right. I don’t cross bridges I haven’t come to. Why would I do that? Isn’t life hard enough? I’ve learned to appreciate the simple things in life:
None of these options cost a king’s ransom and all are attainable by each one of us. And none of these options will change a bad situation that has already happened, but they will change your attitude and in so doing, change your perspective.
It is early morning as I sit here typing these words. The sun is shining. I look up and see that my neighbour has pulled up his window and it is wide open. For some reason, this sight lifts my spirit instantly. It takes me away from my desk to a meadow, tartan rug on the grass, wicker picnic basket lined with red and white gingham, packed with salad sandwiches, strawberries and fruit cake.
Nothing in this world is perfect. Yet, we constantly strive to achieve perfection. We seek it because all our distractions (media) tell us it is there for the taking. Our intellect tells us, ‘There is no such thing as perfection’, nevertheless we seek and demand it as if it were a right to which we are entitled and when we don’t find it, we despair and say, ‘life isn’t fair’. Are we setting ourselves up for disappointment when our expectations are too high?
The emerging buds on my magnolia tree promising me beautiful flowers failed to keep their promise. The harsh and strong winds battered the petals as soon as they bloomed. This was a minor disappointment not a disaster.
That is the reason I like cyclamens. Like dachshunds they are low to the ground and immune to the howling wind. And like dachshunds they keep on giving months after their first appearance, casting a colourful display where once only clay was a resident.
[ Nature therapy: How to get your ‘daily dose of trees’ to boost body and mindOpens in new window ]
I was out one evening and after a time when I was ready to go home, I told my friend. She said: “Oh, please stay. You can’t leave yet. It’s so early.” With that she turned back to the person she’d been talking to and I sat there wondering when I could leave. It suddenly occurred to me … now. I could leave now. So, I turned back to her and said I was leaving and would see her tomorrow and left. Why on earth would I stay? Who was I trying to please? It felt good. Liberating. That’s what sobriety has given me.
With its floods, droughts, hurricanes and typhoons wreaking havoc and leaving an aftermath of chaos and destruction, could nature be a metaphor for life? We wouldn’t think of going up against a typhoon or insisting on using an umbrella in a hurricane. But when stress comes knocking at our door, we open our umbrellas. We involve ourselves in heated arguments that have been repeated ad nauseam and expect to make a difference, instead of battening down the hatches and braving it out until it passes, as it will, and the sight of a beautiful sunrise restores our confidence.
When looking at a mountain the problem you’ve been ruminating on becomes smaller as your eyes adjust to the vastness in front of you. Or the majestic sight of a waterfall, water cascading down its rocky structure reducing stress like a magic wand. It will come back, but more detached and manageable.
When we make comparisons, we only end up thinking everybody has it much better than we do.
Not true, they don’t.
I like myself better now than I did when I was drinking. There is a stability in my happiness which wasn’t there pre sobriety. I didn’t recognise happiness no matter how loudly it knocked on my door because my visibility was blurred.
Nothing was ever enough. Now enough is enough.
I’m much easier to please than I would ever have thought.
Because my mind is not clogged with alcohol telling me lies, I can think clearly and put into practice the above suggestions. I use them all in different ways but, I think the main one is being grateful. Gratitude changes one’s perspective. It makes one kinder. Instead of waiting for happiness to come knocking at your door, send out the invitations.
Is all this easy? Of course not. But if I can do it, anyone can.
P.S. I did come first in a bridge competition.
I Am Not an Alcoholic Series