Tag: depression

Lurgy update

Jess Guth3 Comments

Day 1 of ‘lurgy might be going’. It hasn’t yet though but I am getting better. I slept better for a start which has got to help with getting better. Kath went for a run – she’s been doing that a lot lately and she’s doing well. I’m really proud of her but I also find it hard to watch her go out while I can’t and then hear about the runs and how much faster her pace is without me and how much further she can run without using intervals when she’s out on her own. I knew this of course, but seeing it is still a bit hard. I don’t want her to stop going out running or telling me about it because mostly it makes me happy.

This morning Kath drove me to Bolton Abbey and we went for a walk. Not a long walk – up to the Strid and back which took a long time. About an hour. The we had a bacon sarnie at the Cavendish Pavilion and then we drove home. I have been wiped out for the rest of the day. I should not be this tired after a slow walk.

I’m going to head off to bed very soon and try and get another good 10 hours sleep to try and recover and heal. I almost feel like I did at the beginning of all this – sore throat, snotty nose, achey head… Sleep, that’ll sort it.

Mentally of course none of this is helping. I’m in the shadows and I think possibly expending quite a lot of energy on not spiralling. I need to run, running will help.

Of Lurgy, Bad Days and Needing to Run

Jess GuthLeave a comment

Day ‘what feels like forever’ of lurgy. I can’t shift it. It is the second really bad cold/flu/whatever I have had this year and it won’t go away. Well, that’s not quite true, it is shifting. I am slowly getting better. I started this post a few days ago – on the anniversary of Rachel’s death. She was in many ways the one who got me running in the first place – more about that in another blog maybe. And that day I felt like I needed to run far and fast to outrun my demons – but I was stuck on the sofa. It wasn’t a good day. It was full of memories but focused on the regrets, on the didn’t dos and should have saids. It was miserable and her not being here physically hurt. I didn’t cry. It was too painful for tears.

As I tried and eventually gave up on trying to keep work things ticking over until I can get my brain to function properly again and don’t go all wobbly every time I try and leave the sofa, I have too much time for my mind to wander. This is not a good thing. Sometimes, my mind left to its own devices, comes up with the most amazing creative thought and ideas. My best ideas about how to teach stuff or for research papers have come when I have let my mind wander off and paid no attention to it at all. However, as many of you know, over the last couple of years my mind has wandered off to darker places, places where it then gets stuck and won’t come out for days, weeks, moths at a time. Places where it hides like a scared little creature too terrified to come out into the light. Places that are guarded by an annoyingly bouncy and energetic little black Labrador puppy. Don’t let its cuteness fool you, it’s a right bitch (no pun intended – not really anyway). I don’t want my mind to go there. I am trying to drag it back out of the shadows and tell it that it’s all ok, that we’ll be fine, my mind and me, we’ll be fine.

But the lurgy isn’t the only thing I have been struggling to shift. There are also the rather ominous but familiar ‘I’m not good enough thoughts’. I haven’t run for nearly two weeks and before that it was sporadic at best. I am miles behind (too obvious a pun really) on the 1000 mile challenge, the 10k race is in 3 weeks and I haven’t run that far since the Dr Strange 10k in California in November… so I’m not a good enough runner. Kath has been getting out and running lots and her mileage total is steadily creeping up, her pace is pretty solid and certainly faster than I am – I’m not good enough to run with her….I have done naff all in the house, Kath has done it all – I’m totally rubbish… I have been unfocused at work and have had nearly a full week off meaning that some deadlines for potential projects have been missed – I’m not good enough at teaching, research, organising myself, writing, thinking, motivating others, getting the job done…. I’M NOT GOOD ENOUGH.

I know this is my mind wandering towards the dark places and being stuck in the shadows (we haven’t yet got to I can’t do it at all!). It’s been focused on all the things I haven’t done or won’t get done and it has spiralled from there. I need to run. I need to get out there to feel the sun on my face, to feel the physical effort, to release some of those happy hormones and to just get a grip. I feel like I need to run hard, fast and far, that a run up on the moors or along the canal might just make it all ok. Then I remember that I can’t run. But I couldn’t run when I completed Dopey either so let’s just ignore that. I managed to get out of bed and actually have a shower and get dressed today. Then Kath took me for breakfast and we did our food shop. I also bought some new PJs so really all is well with my world. I can now look at screens and read so I will look at work stuff and make a list and prioritise and get back on track. Tomorrow I will try a little walk and if I don’t collapse in a heap at the end of it, on Monday, I will run. It won’t be hard, far or fast but it will be a run and will at least give the puppy something to distract it so it might not notice me dragging my mind back from the shadows. And if it does? Well, it can catch me if it can.

 

 

Moomin Butt Moving

Jess Guth4 Comments

There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?! 2.5 mile run done this morning. WTF? Wasn’t so hard? Wasn’t so hard?!? Wasn’t so fucking hard? My black puppy is mocking me. It was hideously hard. It was only 2.5 miles and I completed it with run/walk intervals and slowly. Here’s how it went (in my head):

  1. Setting off from home, turn left downhill, feels pretty good. Yep, we can do this, this is fine
  2. First walk break, secretly quite please we’re at the first walk break
  3. Bit more downhill, turn right, have-to-go-up-hill-now-can’t-really-breathe
  4. Walk break, love walk breaks
  5. bit more up the hill – come-on-just-a-bit-more
  6. downhill section, breathe, breathe, breathe
  7. walk, yay, walk
  8. run past the sheep, wave at the sheep but focus, keep focused, shit can’t breathe
  9. when’s the walk break?
  10. Not yet
  11. Surely now? Yes now
  12. Breathe, oh shit I’m going to have to run uphill in a minute, walk fast, can’t, no seriously walk faster or you’ll have to run all the hill, fuck, walk
  13. Hill, don’t like this hill but after this it’s steep downhill. I hate downhill. I might fall, run faster to get to the top so you can walk down.
  14. Come on you Dopey
  15. Nearly at the top, nearly at the top – nearly-at-the-top. Yay walk break
  16. It’s called walk break, not collapse in a heap break – keep moving
  17. Oh ok I have to run down, ok, steady, slowly, yay I’m down
  18. Plod plod plod plod – don’t mind this. Wish I could breathe though
  19. Walk break – come on walk faster to get down the nasty steep bit
  20. Time to start running but I’m going to walk the steep bit
  21. Ok I’m down, flat to home now. You’re Dopey, you can do this
  22. Left turn onto the canal, find a rhythm (fuck off), no really, it will help (oh shut up)
  23. Found a rhythm, picked up the pace, this is hard but ok
  24. I wonder if there are any kingfishers about? Or a heron? I’d like to see a heron
  25. Oh walk break, ok
  26. And another 2 minute run, it’s two minutes, I can do two minutes. Is it over yet? It must be! Hello lungs, please stop burning
  27. Yay walk
  28. Hm, I might be able to run to the end from here. I can see the point at which i’ll be able to see the bridge and if I can see the bridge I can run to it. Maybe
  29. Run. Ok, I feel pretty good. Count, that’ll pass the time…counting to 105… what comes after 105? I’m lost, where was I? start again! ok 91… That’s not starting again, silly, ok but I like 91.
  30. Look the bridge. Look the bridge. Look the bridge. Look the bridge!
  31. Why isn’t the bridge getting closer (because you’re not running fast enough!)
  32. I’m at the bridge. Lungs, legs, everything, please stop screaming at me.

So the puppy may sit an mock but it’s got to do so from outside because this moomin butt is moving and even though it was sort of hideous and most certainly horrible, I loved it

2016 – What a Year

Jess Guth3 Comments

I am so ready for 2016 to be over. I really am. It’s been horrible in so many ways, it’s been, well it’s just been crap. Or has it? Am I ready? Isn’t there a small part of me that doesn’t want 2016 to be over? 2016 has been a year of unbelievable achievements, a year of learning so much about myself, a year of hitting a new all time low and reaching dizzying highs, a year of standing firm and sticking to principles, of being confident and smiling when inside everything was crumbling into tiny little pieces that didn’t seem like they would ever fit together again, a year of walking away, of giving up, of re-building and of persuading others that I am brilliant when I felt anything but. 2016 taught me that I am superwoman – a very very fragile and breakable one, but superwoman. 2016 has been a bitch, a complete bitch but here I am right at the end of 2016 and I’m going on – the bitch isn’t. 2016 will turn into 2017 and there is something about the turn of the year that I like. It’s just another day but somehow it is a day that holds promise and excitement…

So let’s take a look at 2016.

  1. In January I travelled half way round the world (well, sort of) to run 48.6 miles in 4 days. The training leading up to it, the Disney World escapism and the running itself helped me make huge steps towards recovering from the anxiety and depression that had been with me for longer than I care to admit. In January 2016 I was physically fit and healthy but my mind was still a bit of a mess. Messy mind or not I dragged my butt round the 26.2 mile Dopey challenge marathon after having run the half marathon the day before, 10k before that and 5 k the day before that. I may have hated most of it at the time, I may have walked almost all of it but I kept putting one foot in front of the other until I got to the finish. I went through every emotion on that journey but I never wanted to stop. I thought I might not make it but I did not want to stop. Stopping is something I had to learn.
  2. In April I had another go at 26.2 miles and as I made my way round the iconic London marathon course I decided that 26.2 miles are not for me. I don’t like that distance, it’s not fun and I never want to do it again. I didn’t want to stop though. I remember the finish line, I remember the excruciating walk/tube ride/walk back to the hotel and I remember feeling completely empty. I had nothing at all left physically, emotionally and mentally. I felt like I should be proud and excited but I was just empty. Looking back now I wonder whether I needed that. Looking back I wonder whether after that complete emptiness I slowly started rebuilding.
  3. Work was – for the first half of 2016 – hell. I went back to work after the Dopey Challenge after a period of time off sick . I kept going, I didn’t stop. I did my best and it was, I know now, better than good enough, in some ways too good for the institution. Looking back I can see the bullying, the nastiness, the unreasonableness of it all. I accepted panic attack after panic attack, I accepted the tears, the exhaustion, the lack of support, the loneliness and isolation; I accepted it to get a job done. But as I went through the rest of April and then May it became increasingly clear that I needed to change something. And yet I kept going
  4. In summer my previous institution went through a ridiculous process they called an Academic Review – the paperwork was idiotic but I did it, the review was bizarre (more so in the light have what has happened since) but I did it. On the days of the meetings I had panic attack after panic attack, I had to get off the bus several stops early because I couldn’t breathe – and yet everyone said I did an amazing job. As I walked out of the final meeting I knew I had decided to leave. I finally gave up. I finally learned to stop. I had to stop. I was once again off sick
  5. Through August I began to get my shit together. My brain started working again, slowly and the running was fine too – I was getting out at least. Then I started my new job and somehow the rest of 2016 has been uneventful really – trips to Paris and California to complete the Disney running journey – it ended in a failed half marathon but that’s ok.  I found a better balance between work and the rest of life. I have been panic attack free since the day I resigned. It’s all good
  6. Or is it. My anxiety levels are normal but there is that silly black puppy dog that is just waiting on the other side of the door and every now and again it nudges the door open. It’s bounced it’s way into the room just recently and is zapping all my energy. I haven’t run since the abandoned half marathon in November. I sort of want to but I can’t be bothered – what’s the point, I can’t do it anyway (erm – look at points 1 and 2!). I am slow with everything I do. Writing anything useful is taking an age, preparing for teaching is taking far longer than it ever has, just getting through a day without doing anything in particular is somehow hard work. My reaction to any world events are extreme and I cry at anything. But it’s ok. It’s ok because I know. It’s ok because I understand that I’m ill and that getting better takes time, more time than I will ever really want to give it because I’m a perfectionist and impatient.
  7. I look back at 2016 and apart from the world going totally mad with Brexit and Donald Trump, senseless violence and hate as well as heartwarming acts of kindness and the beauty that can be found in just sitting watching birds in the garden – here’s what I see: 2016 has seen me being stronger and more resilient than I ever thought I could be. I had the strength to hold my head up high, to walk out of a high profile high paid job, not lose it completely and to keep on putting one foot in front of the other. 2016 saw strong legs and a stronger, if sometimes wobbly mind, that made me rise to the Dopey Challenge and the London marathon.  In a year where so much went right and so much went wrong I didn’t once waiver from my principles, I didn’t once compromise on the important shit and I didn’t once cross a line I didn’t want to cross. 2016 showed me that however crap,anxious, depressed, wobbly, dark or whatever I feel, I like being me and I can be me – no more than that, I’m good at being me. 2016 has shown me why I am so drawn to the picture and mantra below – it’s because it’s true and I believe it. At the start of 2016 it was a mantra to focus on and keep repeating to myself in the hope that I could fake it –  at the end of 2016 I mean it.13892263_1250624888305675_5708983427789361893_n

Hmph

Jess GuthLeave a comment

I’ve had several titles for this blog post going through my head for most of today. Amongst them ‘9 Mile Meltdown’, ‘No 9 miles’, ‘Can’t do 9 miles’… As you may guess, today didn’t go well. Of course it didn’t. I have been doing far too well generally, feeling pretty good about running, looking after myself, sleeping better and eating yummy healthy stuff for most of the time. So just to avoid any sort of complacency  and to remind me that I have some way to go to regain my mental health fully, my mind decided it wasn’t going to play nice today.

I woke up fine, Kath even brought me porridge in bed and then I got sorted. I felt more nervous about the distance than I expected and my tummy was a little unsettled but we were going and that was fine. We left the car at my Mum’s because she lives at the bottom of the hill and we thought at the end of 9 miles we might not want to have to drag ourselves up the hill. Then we were going to catch the bus to the station and the train to Skipton and then run back. Well the bus didn’t come when it was due and the live departure board suggested it was still 12 minutes out. We waited a bit longer and there was no sign of the bus which meant that we would now miss the train and would soon be in danger of missing the next one too. So we gave up on the Skipton idea and decided to just run along the canal towards Bingley and then back. I felt relatively settled and ok with that idea.

With that we set the watch to 3 minute running and 1 minute walking and set off. We’d run less than a minute when I burst into tears. Not really sure why but I was just overwhelmed with the feeling of not being able to do it. Not just a few little doubts and tears, you understand, oh no, full blown sobbing, snotty, blotchy face kind of a mess. We gave up, went to the co-op for cheesy rolls and bacon, went home, made sarnies and coffee and sulked. Well I sulked.

Actually the rest of the day hasn’t been too bad. We got our shopping done and have deep cleaned a lot of the house in a, probably futile, attempt to get our cats’ fleas under control. I’ve spent a lot of time dusting, vacuuming, and combing cats with a flea comb and drowning fleas in a glass of water. Doesn’t sound like much – BUT  I have spent maybe 10% of my day on the sofa and when I have been on the sofa, like now, I’ve spent it watching the dressage phase of the Olympic 3 day eventing. This is good. This is progress. So although my mind had a bit of a hissy fit this morning, I don’t feel too bad now. The 9 miles will still be there another day. We may try tomorrow but Kath has a sore knee, so we may not. We’ll see. I’m a little grumpy about the run and I think the title of this post sums it up nicely. Hmph!