Posted on November 17, 2018
In the middle of my recent bout of depression – the worst one I’ve had – at my lowest point, an Anna Akana video appeared in my YouTube subscriptions. It was called ‘the voice’ and it was about her new short film that was being released the next day.
She talks about how, while 2017 was the best year of her life, her depression was also at its worst. There was a voice – that felt like it was in the room with her – telling her to kill herself. And it got to the point where she had a plan for how she was going to go through with it, which is a major red flag.
“I was just so in pain and I just felt like I had nothing and like I was nobody and I wasn’t worth anything at all and I literally… I have this big whiteboard on my wall and I wrote out DO NOT KILL YOURSELF, like all across it. I put it on post it notes and I put it on my bathroom mirror and like… everyday when the voice came and I would be like ‘SHUT THE FUCK UP!’”
While she still struggles with depression, she says she’s out the other side of that particular battle and she credits getting through to all the mental health education that’s out there and all the things you have to do everyday, hoping that they add up. She also made this new short film, pouring everything into it because she needed something to remind herself of why she’s here. It’s about the moments she wanted to die and all the things she had to live for. I would include it in the post but I just really want to focus on this introduction video (but you can find the short film here). Maybe I’ll write a full post about it when I’ve sorted out all my feelings about it.
I am so grateful for this video. Talking about this stuff is so hard and so to have this raw and uncut video where she talks about this experience but also how she got through it was and is so important to me. It’s helped me in this incredibly hard period and so I wanted to share it here.
“Please don’t kill yourself if you’re also suicidal… just don’t do it. There’s a lot… there’s a lot of great things to live for.”
Category: depression, mental health, suicide, video Tagged: anna akana, depression, mental health, mental health awareness, mental health in the media, mental illness, mental illness awareness, mental illness in the media, short film, suicidal thoughts, suicidal urges, suicide, suicide in the media, suicide mention, the voice, when i wanted to die, youtube, youtuber
Posted on November 3, 2018
One of the most common pieces of advice with anything mental health or mental illness related is to exercise. And while that’s not bad advice, it’s not necessarily good advice in the practical sense. It’s about as helpful as saying, ‘eat healthy’ or ‘get enough sleep.’ It’s something that has to be tailored to you. Specific types of exercise will help where others may make you feel worse. So you need to find the one for you.
For example, I hate running. I would love to love it but I hate it. I find it at best uncomfortable and at worst painful: it’s like my bones are rattling inside my body. I’ve heard this from others with Autism but I don’t know if it’s specific to that or whether it’s a coincidence. But anyway, running is not the thing for me. Swimming however…
I have always loved to swim. I love the feeling of moving through water and when I was a kid, I loved the silence that comes from being underwater. I would’ve given anything to be able to breathe underwater so that I could stay in that silence. That’s pretty ironic given that I would grow up to develop anxiety that is triggered by a lack of noise and distraction.
I got back into swimming a couple of months ago. At the beginning, my anxiety was so bad that I couldn’t even swim: the lack of stimulation for my brain meant that I just spiralled and my anxiety became completely overwhelming. So me and my Mum would walk and talk, planning the day or talking through whatever thing was on my mind that morning. Eventually my anxiety mutated into a different state and I was able to swim. It’s had such an impact on my life so I really wanted to write about it.
Swimming pools have the potential to be very difficult for me, from a sensory perspective. When it’s busy, the sound bounces around and around, making it one big fog of noise, which makes me very anxious. And the fact that I’m so short sighted I can barely see without my glasses makes that anxiety even worse: I can’t see anything and the sound feels like it’s coming from everywhere and that causes me paralyzing anxiety. It’s how I imagine it would feel to be on a carousel but if the carousel was going at ten times the normal speed. It’s scary. The best times to get in a quiet swim seem to be first thing in the morning and last thing at night. I’ve been sticking to the morning; it makes for a more productive day for me.
Knowing that this is the time that allows for the best swimming experience, I’ve been getting up early and getting to the gym for about seven forty five (sometimes I even get the pool to myself, which is glorious). And knowing that I have to get up that early, I’m going to bed at a sensible time, rather than accidentally staying up until three in the morning. So a routine sort of formed by accident and that has been so good for me. My relationship with sleep has never been so good.
Exercise has always been difficult for me given my historic struggle with energy but also because ‘weight bearing’ exercise often feels very jarring. As I’ve already said, it makes me feel like my bones are rattling inside my body and each impact makes it worse. Sometimes it’s not that bad and I can be distracted by whatever I’m doing but sometimes it can actually be painful. So swimming is perfect. It takes that whole aspect out of the equation and makes exercise actually enjoyable. It reminds me of my arthritic dog: he goes for hydrotherapy and as soon as he’s in the water, chasing tennis balls, he’s like a puppy again. He loves it and I can totally relate.
The best thing about swimming is that it’s something that makes sense and that’s something I really need at the moment. The world feels hard and unfair and this is something that I can control. The more I swim, the stronger I get. I can see the results. I’ve been swimming most days for the last three months and I see my own progress: I’m swimming further; I’m swimming faster; I can see my body changing. It makes sense. That grounds me.
The one thing I do have to be careful of is my tendency to obsess: about the number of laps, getting to the next ten, getting to a hundred… Once it’s in my head that I ‘have’ to get to a particular number, there’s not much I can do to change my own mind and it causes me serious anxiety if I don’t reach the number I’ve ‘decided on.’ So I have to be aware of that. Sometimes I can avoid it by distracting myself or by deciding on exactly how long I’m going to spend in the pool but sometimes I just have to manage it. Sometimes that’s all you can do.
But overall, rediscovering swimming has been one of the major highlights of this year. It’s helped my physical health and my mental health, as well as my day to day life. So I feel very grateful to have found it again.
And since I can’t take my phone into the pool with me, here’s a photo of my dog, enjoying his fortnightly swim.
Category: animals, anxiety, depression, mental health, sleep, tips Tagged: advice, anxiety, black labrador, canine hydrotherapy, depression, dog, exercise, hydrotherapy, mental health, mental health blog, mental health blogger, mental health blogging, mental illness, mental wellness, swim, swimming, tips, wellness
Posted on October 27, 2018
I love words. I LOVE words. And that’s so viciously ironic for someone living with Autism and mental health problems because they are so difficult to describe, to talk about, to truly put into words. I’ve talked about how much I write and how much I document (this post here) and every now and then I think, “Oh my god, I’ve got it. That’s how it feels.” And then I go to therapy or I talk to a friend or teacher and I go to describe how I’m feeling and I’m just left scrambling. Because these things are so hard to put into words.
Let’s talk about depression specifically. This one seems to have a lot of metaphors attached to it:
There are more, of course: everyone has their own descriptions (and they can change depending on the particular state of the depression). On which note, I thought I’d throw in a few of my own:
I posted this on Instagram a while ago:
“Ever since I saw @littlepineneedle’s post and the hashtag #seemyinvisible, I’ve been thinking about it and how I could visually represent the things I struggle with. But in the end, I decided just to look at how I’ve been feeling lately. My mental health is a constant balancing act but lately, my depression has been overwhelming. It feels like there’s a black hole in my chest that’s trying to suck everything in and it’s all I can do to stand up straight. Nobody can see it and that only feeds it. It’s been really inspiring to see so many people sharing their stories over the last few days. This is one of the reasons why #mentalhealthawareness is so important: it helps us to feel less alone.” (x)
I’m not entirely sure what I’m trying to do with this blog post. I guess, I’m just trying to put this thing into words.
Blog Note: This is the 100th post on this blog, which is amazing. I love this blog dearly and am so proud of it as a project. I don’t know what the future holds but I do know that it probably holds more posts…
I would also like to just put it out there that my mental health – my depression especially – has been… less than great recently. It’s been brutal, more so than I’ve ever experienced and I’m really struggling. The most common advice I get is ‘just take it one day at a time,’ but that’s what I’ve been doing for weeks and nothing’s changing. I feel completely stuck and I don’t know what to do.
Category: mental health, video Tagged: black dog, dementors, depression, describing depression, harry potter, jk rowling, mental health, mental health awareness, mental health in the media, mental illness, mental illness awareness, mental illness in the media, metaphor, metaphors, winston churchill
Posted on October 13, 2018
Going to therapy hasn’t always been easy. I feel so, so lucky to have such an amazing therapist now but I had a lot of difficult experiences before I started seeing her. So I thought I’d share some of those experiences. Maybe they’ll be helpful.
After many, many appointments with my GP, I was finally referred to the local NHS Wellbeing service but the session didn’t go well. At this point in time, my anxiety was so bad that I couldn’t talk to people I didn’t know. I just couldn’t. Answers to questions would form in my mind but I couldn’t force them up my throat. So I sat there, in tears, while the doctor tried to get my Mum out of the room and told me he ‘wouldn’t’ help me if I didn’t talk. I don’t want to rant but I WAS STRUGGLING WITH A MENTAL HEALTH PROBLEM. I wanted desperately to be able to talk about it but I couldn’t. I don’t remember much about that appointment but I do remember standing in the street afterwards, shaking and crying and screaming and swearing. I couldn’t understand why no one was helping me when there was so clearly something wrong.
My second attempt at therapy was a bit better. I started Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT) with a really lovely therapist. She was very patient and very open to working around the anxiety that kept me from talking. She was also happy to have my Mum in the room: it helped my anxiety and meant she could provide information. Slowly I started to trust her and started answering questions myself. But it was exhausting, bone achingly exhausting. As hard as we worked, I didn’t feel like we were making any progress and it was too hard to go through that to make no progress. I really liked her and I could tell that she was a really good therapist but the approach wasn’t right for me. I found the format too rigid. In simple terms, CBT is about breaking down your problems and then trying to create change in those areas. I felt, and still do feel, that my problems are too murky for a short stint of CBT. I know now that many of my problems originate from my Autism and the fact that it went undiagnosed for so long but even with that knowledge, the difficult things still feel overwhelmingly huge. I can see CBT being useful for a specific anxiety. For example, we tried to work on my anxiety around making phone calls. But I think the reason it didn’t work is that it wasn’t an isolated problem; it was a piece in a much bigger puzzle. I don’t think you can solve that sort of problem if you don’t know what’s causing it. Plus, being rational about what you’re struggling with in the controlled setting of therapy and being rational when it’s overwhelming you are very different things. CBT sort of assumes that you can still apply the skills you’ve learnt in therapy regardless of how you’re feeling, which can feel impossible, especially if you live with really powerful emotions. But maybe that’s just my perception.
The next thing we tried was Eye Movement Desensitization Reprocessing (EMDR), recommended by a family member. In the few months between finishing CBT and starting EMDR, my anxiety had sky rocketed so starting a new therapy was really hard. It was so bad that I actually never spoke to the guy I worked with. But despite that, and my difficulty with eye contact, communicating with him was easier than it had been with previous therapists. He was fantastic. He accepted my difficulty speaking and suggested writing on a whiteboard. I considered that and it felt possible so that’s what we did. He asked me questions and I replied, scribbling as fast as I could. It worked. And to take the pressure off, we would spend part of the session on the floor, playing dominoes while he asked me questions. I felt absolutely safe there. It was incredibly strengthening to have someone accept my anxieties as they were, to have someone recognise that I wasn’t just being difficult, that I was genuinely struggling with something really hard. And although it didn’t turn out to be the right thing for me, the sessions are still really important to me. For several months, we worked hard. We tried. I felt supported. And even though I didn’t ever speak, I did once sing for him and he almost cried. That was a pretty big moment.
After that, I didn’t go to therapy for a while. There was a lot of life stuff going on and there just wasn’t the time to find someone new. But I did start seeing a new psychiatrist. He prescribed me Phenelzine (which I’ve previously written about) and we spent a lot of time trying to figure out what was causing my problems. I guess it was a type of therapy. We went through my history and analysed my emotions, trying to find a diagnosis. The medication helped and we managed the side effects but it still took a long time. When my university said that they couldn’t help unless I had a diagnosis, I pushed for this and in January 2015, I could finally put names to the issues I was struggling with (apart from the Autism diagnosis which came several months later). My psychiatrist recommended Dialectical Behaviour Therapy (DBT) so we started looking for another therapist.
My current therapist is the first one we met. I just knew she was right; me and Mum walked out, looked at each other, and said, ‘she’s the one.’ We did meet another one but my mind was made up. And we were right. She’s amazing. I’ve been seeing her for three years now and I’m so grateful to have that safe place. DBT suits me much better. It’s based on CBT but, as the Mind website says, it’s “been adapted to help people who experience emotions very intensely.” They both help with changing unhelpful thoughts and behaviours, but DBT also helps you to accept yourself. It’s about a balance between acceptance and change. That really makes sense to me and always has.
In the beginning, I needed my Mum in the room with me and she would answer all the questions. We’d always talked about everything so she knew pretty much all the answers. But over time, I felt more comfortable there. I needed Mum there less and less and eventually I started doing the whole session by myself. Three years later and it’s really, really important to me. It’s a huge part of who I am. It’s not easy; it’s really hard work and I often come home exhausted, sometimes falling asleep on the sofa afterwards. But it’s really satisfying to talk things through, to make connections, to see change happen. I’ve talked about things that I never, ever thought I would talk about and I’ve worked through things I never thought I’d let go of. That’s so huge that I can’t really comprehend it.
So that’s my therapy journey. For me, it’s DBT that works but I’ve seen the others help people too. You need to be ready, you need to find the right approach, and you need to find the right person. It’s not easy but it is worth it.
Category: animals, anxiety, autism, bpd, depression, diagnosis, emotions, medication, mental health, ocd, therapy, treatment, uncategorized Tagged: actuallyautistic, asd, autism, autism awareness, autism spectrum disorder, autistic, autistic adult, cbt, cognitive behavioural therapy, dbt, dialectical behaviour therapy, emdr, experience, eye movement desensitisation reprocessing, medication, mental health, mental health awareness, mental health treatment, mental illness, mental wellness, nhs, phenelzine, therapist, therapy, therapy experience, therapy journey, treatment
Posted on October 10, 2018
(Trigger warning for self harm.)
Today is World Mental Health Day.
If I’m honest, I’m not really sure what to say. I’m in the middle of the worst depression I’ve ever experienced and I’m very aware that my perspective, my opinions, my hopes are distorted by that. If this was a video, I might just sit and cry. But this day is important so I’m trying to pull myself together and put something out into the world that is (hopefully) positive (and maybe helpful).
This year’s theme is the mental health of young people. When it comes to things like this, I’ve never felt comfortable talking about anyone’s experience but my own. So that’s what I’m going to do. I hope that’s okay with you guys.
My experience at secondary school was a very mixed one. I spent the first three years dealing with some complicated health problems but by the time I reached Years 10 and 11 (ages fifteen and sixteen for those of you who don’t know the education system in England), I felt really settled. I loved learning, particularly English, Maths, History, Psychology, and Philosophy (real shout out to my teachers in all of those subjects). I got real satisfaction from working hard and that was reflected in my grades. I came out of secondary school with not unimpressive grades, especially when you consider I missed most of the first three years. So I felt pretty good about going into Sixth Form (A Levels/ages seventeen and eighteen).
But that was when it all started to unravel. I really, really struggled. I’d gone from completing the work with ease to barely scraping by. I couldn’t understand it: I was trying so hard and it didn’t seem to make any difference. And I couldn’t see it at the time, but my anxiety was getting worse and worse and what I now know to be depression was creeping in. But I didn’t know it was happening so I just kept pushing forwards. I spoke to a couple of people about the high anxiety I was experiencing but each one told me that anxiety is normal and that was the end of the conversation.
It all came to a head when I failed an exam, something that had never happened before. I’d been told I was all set for an A* and I came out with a U. I was absolutely devastated. I know now that our worth as human beings has nothing to do with grades but I was eighteen years old: I had only ever been valued based on my grades. It’s no one person’s fault but that’s how the education system in this country works. It needs changing.
But back to this little story. I don’t remember much after I opened the envelope and saw that U but I ended up in one of the less used college toilets, self harming repeatedly with a broken paperclip. I don’t know how long I was there (long enough that the automatic lights went off and I was plunged into a very appropriate darkness) but at some point, my friends tracked me down and coaxed me out of the stall. I still remember seeing my reflection: my make up all down my face, my hands shaking, and the scratches barely hidden by my long sleeves. One friend took me to a nearby café, bought me a hot chocolate, and just talked to me. And eventually I told her what I’d done. Her kindness and gentleness was so healing, not for the whole problem but for that very difficult day. I will never forget it and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay it.
After that, I dropped out of that course and clawed my way out with two A Levels and an Extended Project, far less than I and everyone had expected of me. I went straight into a music course but had to drop out two days in because my anxiety was so bad that I just couldn’t cope. I spent a year grappling with the anxiety and depression, trying the first of many antidepressants (so many) and trying to retake some of the exams in the hope that I could improve my A Levels (I didn’t end up opening the results of those until after I finished my degree, three years later, but that’s another story). During that year, I tried desperately to get help from the NHS to no avail: my anxiety was so bad that talking to people I didn’t know was practically impossible and they refused to help me if I wouldn’t talk. Eventually we were forced to go private, something that I’m endlessly, endlessly grateful has been possible. And I only managed to get my diagnoses when my university said they weren’t able to help me if I didn’t have an official diagnosis.
It still upsets me to talk about. I asked and asked and asked for help but no one either seemed able or willing to help me. I would not be as twisted up now had that not been the case. The information and support was not available to me, it wasn’t available to my family, and it wasn’t available or deemed important enough (I’m not sure which is worse) to the medical professionals I saw. That has to change. It is not acceptable.
Now that I’ve told my story, I want to include some other important, relevant stuff.
The first thing is that I want to link you to Hannah Jane Parkinson’s recent article in The Guardian. She makes the very important distinction between mental health and mental illness. And this is where, I think, physical health and mental health are most comparable: your mental health is something you take care of (or don’t) everyday, by eating and sleeping well, exercising, talking through your emotions, and so on. Mental illnesses, similarly to physical illnesses, can be caused by not taking care of your mental health but there can also be genetic factors, environmental factors, and just hard stuff going on in your life.
WAYS TO HELP YOUR MENTAL HEALTH:
WAYS TO HELP YOUR MENTAL ILLNESS:
And of course, there is overlap between these two lists.
Where we go from here, I’m not sure. The information about mental health and mental illness is spreading and spreading and more and more people are speaking up. Now we need the right systems to support it: doctors, treatment, government officials who advocate for positive change. For now, that’s all I know. For now, I’m just trying to manage one day at a time.
(And a gentle reminder, my debut single, ‘Invisible,’ which I wrote about my experiences with my mental health is available on iTunes and Spotify and all those places and all proceeds go to Young Minds, a charity that supports young people in their mental health.)
Category: about me, anxiety, depression, diagnosis, emotions, medication, mental health, response, school, self harm, tips, treatment, university Tagged: advice, anxiety, depressed, depression, family, friends, health, mental health, mental health awareness, mental health blog, mental health blogger, mental health blogging, mental health in the media, mental illness, mental illness awareness, mental wellness, school, secondary school, self harm, sixth form, sixth form college, tips, wmhd, wmhd18, wmhd2018, world mental health day, world mental health day 18, world mental health day 2018
Posted on October 6, 2018
A few years ago, I found this post on Tumblr about celebrating ‘grown up birthdays.’ This person talked about how stressful they found birthdays as an adult and so they’d implemented two rules: do something you wouldn’t normally do and buy yourself something you wouldn’t normally buy. They said that, since starting these rules, each year has been distinct and memorable.
I really like this as an idea. I can definitely relate to feeling anxious around birthdays: I always feel like I’m not enjoying myself as much as I should be, like I’m not happy enough. It’s silly but it gets me all twisted up. And when I was in school and university, my birthday always felt rushed, what with the start of the academic year.
More recently, as I’ve been struggling more with my mental health, I find myself thinking something like, “This is the year I’m going to feel better,” or “I’m going to feel better by my next birthday.” It causes me such anxiety. And the longer this period of depression goes on, the more anxious I get. I’m aware that it’s not a helpful thought to have but it’s not an easy one to unpick. But maybe a possible answer is to associate my birthday with positive memories.
So here we go…
Rule #1: Do something you wouldn’t normally do.
I had a couple of thoughts about this one but then one just fell into my lap and just seemed perfect.
My dog has had hydrotherapy for years. He’s fifteen and very arthritic and it’s helped massively. Plus it’s probably the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. He used to surge through the water after tennis balls, kicking so hard that the hydrotherapist had trouble figuring out which joints were working and which weren’t. But now it’s much calmer. He knows the ball will be there when he gets there. Anyway.
Usually he works with a hydrotherapist but this time, the hydrotherapist taught my Mum and me how to do it. And oh my god, it was hard work. They make it look so easy! Trying to gauge how much he’s extending and the angle his legs are at when fully extended was really tricky but as an experience, it was so much fun. I was exhausted afterwards but I really, really enjoyed it and it was a special experience.
Rule #2: Buy yourself something you wouldn’t normally buy.
I get very anxious about spending money (this post is turning into a list of things I get anxious about…) so carrying out this rule was probably a good exercise in challenging that anxiety. Anyway.
For as long as I can remember I’ve loved typewriters. I like how they look, I like how they sound, and I love the tangible quality that they attach to stories and poetry and words. I’ve been fostering one – if that makes sense – for the last couple of years and I love it dearly but there’s always been one I’ve had my heart set on. It’s the most beautiful typewriter I’ve ever seen and then a couple of weeks ago, I saw one for sale on Etsy. I’ve had these rules in mind for a while and given how rarely it happens to see this exact typewriter for sale, I went for it.
It’s so beautiful and it does actually still work. I haven’t had time to try it out yet but I’m really excited to.
Despite my current mental health struggles, it was a good birthday. It was quiet and low key but with some really positive experiences. It was a good day.
Category: about me, animals, anxiety, event Tagged: 24th birthday, adulthood, anxiety, birthday, birthday rules, canine hydrotherapy, depression, dog, growing up, hydrotherapy, mental health, mental health blog, mental health blogger, mental health blogging, mental illness, tumblr, tumblr post
Posted on October 1, 2018
Lately I’ve been seeing a lot of articles and blog posts about unplugging from technology and practising being present and living in the ‘real world.’ I’m not anti doing this. If you think it’s healthier for you to spend less time on social media and have or are taking the steps to do that, then that’s great. Figuring out ways to take care of yourself is always a positive thing. But I find it so irritating when people act as though social media is the enemy of mental health and self care because it’s just not that simple. It has its flaws, of course, but I think its value to those struggling with difficulties like depression and anxiety and so on (there are obviously more but these are the ones I feel qualified to talk about) can get overlooked. It allows us to connect in the middle of something that is incredibly isolating and that is invaluable. It can be life saving.
These are some of the accounts that bring me joy or help me when I’m struggling…
Matt Haig – While I did struggle a bit with ‘Reasons To Stay Alive,’ I really respect Matt Haig and love his presence online. His posts range from moving to funny to encouraging. This is one that particularly spoke to me:
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This is Eldon Square shopping centre in Newcastle. In 1999, while I was still trying to claw back from a breakdown, I cried in this shopping centre. Panic and despair had swarmed me and the brace face I had tried to keep for Andrea that day had slipped. People could see me crying. A 24 year old strong young man, crying in a shopping centre. I was convinced I'd never get better. Never make it to 25. Well, I am now 42 and I just did an event at a packed out Waterstones across the road from here. I am the future I never believed in. A fiction that couldn't happen. And yet I did. It is amazing what can happen simply by living.
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Behindthescars_ – I’ve written a post about Behind The Scars, a photography project set up by Sophie Mayanne (you can find that post here). Seeing people be their authentic selves and find new strength is really amazing and inspiring.
JuniperFoxx – As a kid, I LOVED animals and I daydreamed about having a pet fox so I absolutely love this account. It makes my day to see a new photo or video of these gorgeous creatures.
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Laura Greenway – Laura is an incredible artist and I feel very lucky to call her a friend. She makes beautiful, thought provoking pieces to raise awareness and reduce stigma around mental illness. I love pretty much everything she makes but this one is a particular favourite and I was so sad not to experience it first hand:
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Really really hard to get a good photo of this, it’s more of a piece that you need to see in person, but today I installed my newest piece of work entitled ‘Baggage’ as part of my current residency at THAT Gallery Basingstoke! A little different from my usual, this piece employs the audience as the performer, encouraging you to walk amongst the 80 tags that hang from the ceiling and be surrounded by my own thoughts. The piece explores intrusive thoughts, and features a variety of day to day intrusions that I suffer with. A huge thank you to my amazing art team @mattglenart and @corvidaecrochet who helped for the best part of 4 and a half hours to install this piece. #art #artist #artwork #contemporaryperformance #fineart #modernart #contemporaryart #conceptualart #performanceart #mentalhealthart #mentalillness #mentalhealthawareness #anxiety #intrusivethoughts #automaticwriting #textart #writing #contemporaryartist #ocd #liveart #installationart #artistresidency #thatgallery #basingstoke
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Petroom – While this account isn’t at all deep or meaningful, it makes me smile and even laugh on a daily basis. Sometimes we need thoughtful advice or inspiring messages and sometimes we need cute animals with funny captions.
Anna Akana – I’ve talked about Anna’s videos before (here and here) but I had to include her in this post. Her videos are beautifully crafted and incredibly succinct in their messages, many of them about mental health with real, usable advice. I also love her sense of humour and the short skits where she plays all the characters.
DudeBabe – Lauren is one of my favourite people on YouTube at the moment. Her videos are raw and honest and she posts almost every day, about her life and her experiences with an eating disorder. Food is a daily struggle for me so I find her videos really helpful but mostly I’m just really inspired by her openness.
This video is my favourite: it gives me hope that, one day maybe, I can have this sort of positive, freeing experience with my mental health.
(EDIT: I wrote this blog post before Claire Wineland died and although that doesn’t change whether or not I’d include her in this list, it added a weight to this post that I never expected when I started writing it. And what I wrote about her, it was true then and it’s true now. I just wanted (and needed) to acknowledge all of this.)
Claire Wineland – I’ve talked about Claire before (here) and introduced her channel (here) but I couldn’t not include her on this list of helpful and inspiring social media accounts. She speaks so eloquently about some really tough stuff and she always inspires me to be a better person, to be a positive force in the world.
Lucy Moon – Lucy is a vlogger and makes all kinds of videos, from fashion and make up to food to chats about therapy (that is a particularly good video). She also does an ongoing series of videos called 168 Hours, where she documents a week in one video. I find all of her videos really calming to watch. There’s something very reassuring about the way she talks.
TrichJournal – I’ve talked about Rebecca before (here) but I still want to include her account here. Having someone talk so eloquently and thoughtfully about hair pulling, about a disorder that is so rarely talked about, was incredibly validating and strengthening and helped me to stop pulling the first time. Plus I find her voice so calming. I’m linking her Trichotillomania channel here but I also love her ‘main’ channel, where she talks about lots of different stuff, including mental health, hoarding, make up, her cats… Many, many things.
Claudia Boleyn – I’ve watched a lot of YouTube videos about BPD and Claudia’s are my favourite by miles. I’ve talked about her videos before (here) and there are others that deserve their own posts because she describes it all so, so well. She’s thoughtful and eloquent and her videos mean so much to me: for the first time, I didn’t feel alone in this.
Haley Pham – I found Haley through her dance videos. I absolutely adore her dancing; I find it so calming. If I could have her dance for one of my music videos, I absolutely would. One day maybe. She’s also completely hilarious.
This post was deceptively hard to write. When writing about other people and their work, I get really anxious that I’m not doing a good enough job, if that makes sense. I love all of these people and want to reflect all the good they do – I’m scared I’ll do them a disservice. So I hope I did an okay job and that you guys have enjoyed this. Are there any social media accounts you think I should check out?
Tomorrow, I’m heading back to my university for an event about social media and mental health, which I’m really excited to be a part of. Maybe I’ll write a blog post about it…
Category: favourites, mental health, response, video Tagged: anna akana, art, behind the scars, borderline personality disorder, bpd, claire wineland, claudia boleyn, dudebabe, eating disorder, hair pulling, haley pham, instagram, juniper the fox, laura greenway, lauren kaech, lucy moon, matt haig, mental health, mental health awareness, mental health blog, mental health blogger, mental health blogging, mental health in the media, mental illness, mental wellness, petroom, rebecca brown, self care, social media, sophie mayanne, trichjournal, trichotillomania, trichotillomania awareness, vlogger, youtube, youtuber
Hey! I’m Lauren Alex Hooper. Welcome to my little blog! I write about living with Autism Spectrum Disorder, as well as a number of mental health issues. I’m also a singer-songwriter so I’ll probably write a bit about that too.
My first single, ‘Invisible,’ is now available on iTunes and Spotify, with all proceeds going to Young Minds.