healing – Our Happy Notes

A Need to Speak

Posted on October 24, 2024 by Millie :)

This is the video I refer to in the post. Please watch (there are no graphic images, it is just very moving): https://www.instagram.com/reel/DBULsD3O5r5/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

Words continue to feel meaningless but not saying anything surely is more damning. Excuse a few heartfelt musings from me.

Last night I was listening to my late Granny reading a poem in which she recalls how she has always been aware that she and Anne Frank could have changed places. They were only seven weeks apart.

But for the happenstance of where I was born, it could be me in Gaza. It could be any of us in the Middle East. That’s the foundation of empathy I suppose, and humanity is the ability to care about something outside of ourselves.

These are not simple issues. That’s why they’re ongoing. Humans are complex. International relations is human complexity on a grand and incomprehensible scale. What is simple, as far as I’m concerned, is that the genocidal killing of innocent civilians must stop.

Never again means never again for anyone, and saying that you wished less people were dying should not be a controversial topic.

I have varying, moveable, largely ignorant views on this all. I think one of the biggest problems we face nowadays is the inability to have conversations with people that disagree with us. Often we are encouraged to jump to the conclusion that they are a bad person for holding a view we see as wrong, rather than a person with a full life of difference to us and the capacity to love. We must believe in the capacity to change. We must learn how to have complicated, uncomfortable conversations. People will never truly grow if they are afraid to ask questions. And I could be wrong on all of this too – that’s the point.

There are people dying as we speak in Gaza, and now Lebanon.

I am a pacifist, I personally consider any avoidable loss of life a tragedy for all. I feel so sorry for all the families and friends that lost someone on October 7th 2023 – but especially because their relatives’ memories have been used to inflict pain and torture on millions of people. The people that lost their lives deserved better than that. My heart also breaks for the families grieving in Gaza on October 7th 2024, as Isreal continued their ground invasion in the north. And for every life lost, every life lived in fear in the intervening 365 days.

I cannot deal with the noise of a fan in the background, or a car backfiring, or music playing too loudly. I cannot help but think of all the autistic people in Palestine. The 24/7 drone, the constant bombing, screaming, unpredictability. I can only see it as psychological torture.

And while I’m at it – the trauma that will endure, the pain and grief that will continue to cycle, all of the psychological toil and aftermath reaffirms what I have long thought that the western system of individually pathologising people fails to encapsulate the pain, triumph, and humanity that mentally ill and mad people struggle with. Are we going to be diagnosing every single Gazan with PTSD? Or bipolar, as I am diagnosed, which is thought to have traumatic stress as a triggering cause. I hope not. That would seem an insult to the suffering they faced. I hope we learn from this – if for no other reason than I want to see some good come from all this evil – to see human distress and our capabilities to heal and love as more complex than a psychiatric label.

But I digress. Because in order to heal, to have a chance at healing, they need to be alive.

Who am I to say, but maybe in order to have a lasting peace we need first to stop killing?

I don’t usually post my political views on my accounts in this way, and I rarely directly expand on my views on my personal accounts. I don’t want to risk my very being becoming polemic, or contributing to division. But I’m sat here tonight after welcoming a new year group to my university course, safe on my sofa, having been able to access medicine after I was sick all last week, and I’m sat here watching a live stream of what is plausibly a genocide (as far as I’m concerned, it is). And I can’t help but think of how my gran was so haunted by the very fact that the holocaust happened. And I can’t help but think how brave she was, and how maybe if I was a little braver I would do something more, and how maybe doing something more just starts by opening my mouth (or putting words on paper as it may be).

I want to believe in hope. It affects my own survival if I don’t, trust me, I can forget sometimes. I don’t think we live in isolation. I think what we all do matters. A smile can change a life, a conversation can change a world. And I feel powerless with this. So I said something, maybe to ease my own ego, who knows. I hope it means something somewhere.

The UK is still supplying arms to Isreal. The very least we can do is write to our MPs and ask them to stop doing that. And to ask them to do more to put pressure on Isreal to abide by international law – which they are not, that’s not up for debate.

UNWRA and Oxfam have appeals for donations to try and help in Gaza, Lebanon, and across the Middle East, as do individual families.

Thanks for reading my little rant. Sending you love and support, fellow human x

Advocacy, Mental Health

Language and Mental Health

Posted on July 10, 2023 by Millie :)

Language is one of the foremost ways many of us use to communicate and convey ideas and, crucially, meaning. The intricacies of the meaning in the language we use are myriad and will vary even from person to person; it is a wonderful and beautiful thing. Unfortunately many people do not have equal access to language (think of non-speaking autistics denied access and support to use proper AAC equipment; the thousands of children, especially girls, denied the right to education and literacy etc etc), but that’s a topic for another day. Today I want to talk specifically on the importance of use and language surrounding mental health. To be clear this post is not a deep dive, but an introductory exploration.

Much of the language we see used most commonly around mental health is highly pathologised – it has medical connotations and meaning. Often this translates to seeing emotional, mental, and physical responses as indicative of a disease or disorder, and as such having connotations of being a deficit or inherent fault. Mental health itself connotes also the possibility of illness, and therefore something that needs curing. Problems arise from this in many ways, for example dismissal of legitimate concerns; inability to recognise spiritual or enlightening experiences as such, seeing everything as a symptom; putting people in boxes they don’t fit into; discrimination and ableism; etc etc. That’s not to say there aren’t benefits to this kind of language though, as I have spoken about previously in my post about diagnoses. Labels can provide validation, connection with others, understanding, and guidance to healing. Perhaps in an ideal world we would not need this kind of language – but it does certainly serve a purpose for many.

However, what the medical paradigm of mental health – including the language used because of it – has arguably caused is a lack of wider understanding of the intersectional issues relating to mental health, lack of access and acceptance of alternative healing, and lack of autonomy for many who choose not to adopt medicalised language.

Think for example of a bipolar person who chooses to use non-medical language to describe their experience, and engages in spiritual, holistic and peer support instead of traditional therapy and medication – many would look upon them as neglecting their mental health, in denial of their condition, and even reckless for deciding not to use chemical treatment. I know this happens regularly, as a bipolar person myself, simply from asking the question of what alternative support is out there. If you are medicalised, many find it hard to see your legitimate questions as sane.

This is just one non-specific example of the way medicalised language can cause issues. When we see depression in a medical lens, we often think of therapy and medication, chemical imbalances, and individual faults. The language we use plays a really large role in those connotations. But it is easy to overlook things like connection to nature, systemic issues (housing inequality, racism etc), and lack of purpose in how they contribute to the depression. Instead we hear depression and that can create a block to accessing deeper thought and understanding of the real issues, as we see it as an all encompassing condition.

But language can be a tool in helping us access different ways of thinking and communicating with others too. For example, I like the term ‘human distress’ to describe some difficult emotions and experiences, as it reminds me of our shared humanity and allows a gentler approach to seeing a way forward. Personally I also have many ways that I describe my own experiences that lay outside of the medical sphere. These phrases help me to convey my true experiences to others and process it myself. They also help me to see my experiences beyond ‘good or bad’ or medicalised ideas of delusions and reality, because it allows me a deeper exploration of what each experience actually means to me and how I can tell, rather than seeing them all as symptoms.

For example, I do feel a much deeper empathic and intuitive connection to others when I’m manic, which has proven to be important and spot-on on many occasions. By allowing myself the language to see my mania as both unrealistic, and intuitive; delusional, and spiritual, I allow myself to see my mind in all its shades and heal more freely. Other phrases I have used to convey my experience range from ‘my brain is itchy’, ‘I can’t catch the balloons in my head’, to ‘I am disappeared’. All have meaning to me and have helped me convey my experience in a more authentic way.

The Mad Community has also developed a lot of new and reclaimed language that is helpful to many, and provides many the opportunity to reframe their experiences and escape the trauma of medicalisation in mutual care. A noticeable reclamation of language is the word ‘mad’ itself. Much like the queer community have reclaimed the use of ‘queer’ from a slur to an empowering word, so has the mad community reclaimed the word mad. For years our madness has been used against us to discriminate, tease, abuse, and disregard our experiences. After all, if you are labelled mad, how could you ever convince someone you are sane? But the mad community is reclaiming the word. For many, it goes beyond a synonym for neurodiverse or mentally ill, but a title to be proud of, and a word that is in itself a revolution against the medicalisation and ableism of psychiatry.

Lots of wonderful and important language has originated/ resurfaced through the mad community and people looking for different ways to describe their experiences. It is a cycle of language we see over and over again – terms gain new connotations, no longer suit the needs of people, and must be replaced; sometimes progressive terms take on the meaning of slurs and insults, only to cycle round again later and be reclaimed. Some other terms outside pathologised language include:

Different realities – rather than delusions or psychosis
Altered states – states of being that are outside what many would consider normal, may appear chaotic, creative, extreme in some way (for example what some may call mania or depression)
Psychiatric survivor – people who feel their experience with psychiatry was more harmful than helpful

Language surrounding madness and mental health has contributed to and reflected societal views on these subjects for centuries, and as such holds societal importance as much as individual importance. Perhaps the greatest take away from considering the importance of language in mental health is that it will always have significance in how we view and approach these topics as society, and it will always have significance in how we view our own experiences and communicate with others. Only you can choose the language you use in your life. And that language is free to adapt and change. If we keep considering the meaning behind our language and communicating with others on how we can best use language, we’re on our way to making meaningful change.

Sending love and support to you all today.

For further reading on this topic check out this article:

Mad Activists: The Language We Use Reflects Our Desire for Change

Managing Mental Health, Mental Health, therapy

Importance of Community for Mental Health

Posted on June 16, 2023June 16, 2023 by Millie :)

I find it very interesting how although there is a constant discourse around mental health nowadays, so many aspects of what affects our mental health and how we can support it are completely overlooked. That is of course just my opinion, but I do consistently find the most common narratives to be constricting, perpetuating unhelpful ideas, or simply not understanding the complexity of the issue. I think we are as a collective much more able to have and hold complicated conversations with contradictory ideas when we are given the space, the opportunity, and the tools. Life isn’t simple; society isn’t simple; mental health isn’t simple.

One of the aspects of healing I am surprised doesn’t come up more often in a meaningful way is community. Community is essential to supporting mental health. And when we can build deep community bonds, we can find incredible new ways of healing. The kind of community I’m talking about I see as a connection deeper than many of the bonds we find in modern life. I see it as a return to genuine mutual care, sharing responsibilities, and responsibility to each other. Essentially, I see it as a big sidestep away from what I think can be a very individualistic and isolating culture nowadays.

We do not live in the world alone. We are made to be interconnected and intertwined with nature and with other humans. We see it in our nature constantly – think of the incredible impact we are only just starting to see in children from lockdown; in a study on the addictive nature of cocaine found rats were less likely to become addicted if they had social connection; social pain itself (for example, pain from cruel words or rejection) suggests that we are evolutionarily wired for connection. All pain exists, from an evolutionary standpoint, to teach and warn us about potential danger. The fact that social pain even exists tells us that connection is a necessity, not a luxury.

In a fundamental sense connection is vital to healing because it fulfils a basic need. If we then also look through the lens of our traumas, the rules and lessons (whether good or bad or neither) that we have learned throughout our lives and from society, we can start to see another level to how connection can help us in healing. Regardless of where mental illness originates, it has an impact not only on the person experiencing that distress, but others around them. And that distress undoubtedly impacts the way the person experiencing it views and senses their place in connection to others.

So often being misunderstood, harmed, isolated, ostracised etc etc are a part of or contributing factor to mental illness. They’re a part of a lot of social ills – homelessness, racism, school expulsions etc. Individualism is an important part of much of western culture. But numerous studies (and many people’s lived experiences, which are also very important) show us time and time again that isolation is damaging to mental health. This is not to say that a collectivist culture is the way forward either – several studies have found collectivist cultures to have lower happiness indices, while still other studies have looked at the complex nature of trying to measure happiness in collectivist cultures through a western lens and in the midst of ongoing turmoil etc… this is all to say that there’s a balance to this, as to everything. I am not espousing to try and forget individual nature. I am simply pointing out that we need more connection than what we’re getting at the moment. Connection is almost revolutionary in some ways.

Community is a wonderful thing because it’s a moveable thing. Community is where we live, or who we love, or online groups, or 12 step programmes. Community is not easily defined, in my opinion, and so it is possible to continue to redefine. Simply asking the question of what community is and how to build it goes a very long way already.

To me, community is love. Community is support, safety to make mistakes, safety to feel. To me, community means non-hierarchical. Personally that’s very important within a healing space because the power imbalance in a failed mental health system has caused me so much fear and hurt. So community healing is healing together. Sharing skills, sharing resources, sharing time and sometimes being the stronger one for others. I suppose I’m thinking about peer support spaces when I speak in this way; they have been instrumental for me. Terrifying to try for the first time because of how we’ve learnt not to feel safe in groups, but so many accessible and adapting peer support spaces are emerging now; it’s wonderful to see. Connecting with people with lived experience like you can be a transformational experience.

Some examples of peer support spaces (of different structures and aims etc) are:

– @ peersupportspace on instagram (online groups)

– Bipolar UK peer support groups

– 12 Step Programmes

– Mad Art Club London

But the importance of community in supporting mental health (and healing with mental illness) is not just support directly related to our mental health. Like I already said, we are wired for connection. Finding meaningful ways to connect for whatever reason can have incredible healing power. Whether that be helping to create a community garden, co-working (very much similar to parallel play), sharing skills and hobbies, having ways to share resources in a community – it all matters. And it is all powerful.

I don’t know how articulate I’ve been here. It’s hard to put something I feel instinctively into words, though there is definitely research to suggest my gut feeling might have some merit. I can’t tell you how to be well; but I can tell you I care. I’ll leave you with these 3 questions to ponder today, whatever the answer may be for you:

What does community look like to me?
Can community support mental health? How?
How is community built?

My sources are below if you’d like to read some more:

https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/why-we-are-wired-to-connect/

https://youtu.be/PY9DcIMGxMs https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1177/0022022118784204?journalCode=jcca#:~:text=Abstract,having%20lower%20indices%20of%20happiness

Managing Mental Health, Mental Health

Things I Wish Someone Had Told Me When I Realised I’m Bipolar

Posted on May 22, 2023May 21, 2023 by Millie :)

When I started having greater mood swings and episodes than the other kids around me, I was about 12. At 15 I was diagnosed with cyclothymia, and at 18 this was changed to Bipolar 1. I use ‘realised’ instead of ‘diagnosed’ because I knew what was going on with me long before diagnosis, and I don’t think diagnosis is the be all and end all. I hold the label of bipolar very dear to me, but through my own definition for what it means in my life. Bipolar disorder is an awful thing, and many people die from it. But through necessity to survive, having bipolar disorder has forced me to expand my view of myself, the world, creativity and more. And for that I am very grateful.

I was also grateful to realise I was bipolar, but I do know this is not the experience for many people. Regardless of whether you are happy or not, or expected the diagnosis/ realisation, discovering that you have bipolar is a big thing. So here are some things I wish someone had told me/ wish I’d known when I realised I was bipolar. Whether I would have listened to them is a different issue, and the journey to discover them is something I wouldn’t trade for the world. However if you have been recently diagnosed with bipolar I hope maybe this list will help you make sense of it all. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn’t:

Understand that you are the same person as before your diagnosis and any bipolar diagnosis is not a death sentence, it is completely manageable.
You get to define what bipolar means to you. It is your label to claim or not, your language to choose if you use or not.
Connect and learn from others.

I’m not talking just medical doctors, I mean real people with real experience, whether that be through peer support groups (which exist), reading books and biographies, learning about different mental health practices, nature, social media etc.

Define what healing means for you.

This is so important – no one gets to tell you what healing looks like. It may never be the idea of healing society gives (and probably should never be given how the human body actually works even for neurotypicals). Maybe it is creating a life where you have the space to be less productive, or maybe it’s not no depression but shorter depression etc etc. If you define your healing, you will be ok.

For practical things you can start right away:

Track your moods (I use the app e-moods)
Limit alcohol and drugs
Keep a journal (can help work out thoughts and keep track), or have another self reflective practice
Start a gratitude practice
Create routines – sleep in particular is often a very important thing to have routine around for bipolar people, although I am notoriously bad at it
Connect with your body. Exercise is very good, but I also mean on a deeper level of learning how to listen to your body, where tension and trauma is being held and how to release it etc

Research any medications.

Medication is often touted at the main treatment for bipolar disorder and I am not saying that is isn’t life changing for many, because it is, but many of the drugs have different effects and side effects that you may not be fully aware of before starting them, so please take the time to research independently if you can.

And also – you do not have to take medication. If a bipolar person stops or chooses not to take medication they are often seen as very unwell, unrealistic etc. Some are forcibly medicated. I hope to see an end to all forced medication one day. It is not right for everyone and you should be able to make that choice. But obviously please give it serious thought – and never come off medication without consulting doctors first on how to do so because withdrawals can be really damaging.

It’s not a lot, but it is a start. Take it one day at a time and healing is possible. You are not alone. If you have any other questions please let me know! Sending love and support to you all today xx

Advocacy, Mental Health

Mad Liberation: The Missing Piece of The Puzzle

Posted on May 19, 2023 by Millie :)

There are a lot of social movements now that are gaining awareness and support in new ways thanks to the global communication the internet has made possible. For example, feminism, Black Lives Matter, climate activism etc. And it’s very encouraging to see that more people are becoming aware of how these all link together too. There’s still a very very long way to go, that’s for sure, and in some ways the enormity can seem overwhelming. But there’s certainly movement happening in these movements, and a lot of passion. But what about mental health?

When we think of the mental health movement we think of mental health awareness. And for the vast majority of people what they come in contact with under ‘mental health awareness’ is hotline numbers, slogans telling people to reach out, self care tips, and really very repetitive, surface level approaches. The general public does not seem to be aware of the deep issues and abuses in psychiatry, how we view mental health, and how it really impacts all of our lives. In all the fighting for a better future, mad liberation is overlooked, underestimated, misunderstood, or ignored. And that’s damaging for all of us. We cannot be fighting for racial justice, trans rights, and human rights without mad liberation. And yet so few people seem to be aware of it – in fact many people seem scared to approach the topic, which just shows how deeply the stigma and ignorance runs. Maybe, just maybe, mad liberation is the missing piece in the social justice fight.

Take for example the language we use to describe other social movements – you are a climate activist, a civil rights activist, a human rights activist, but you are a mental health advocate. That’s not to say advocate is a bad word, it is absolutely not, and it’s a badge I’m proud to wear. But to call myself a mental health ‘activist’ sounds wrong. Why? Is it because advocacy feels more acceptable? Perhaps it connotes simply raising awareness within the status quo, continuing to adhere to systems already in place rather than radically opposing them and fighting for change. Maybe not, but I certainly think there’s something in the language.

Furthermore, why is it always mental health advocate, and rarely mental illness advocate, or madness advocate? For me that sums up the major narrative surrounding the mental health movement, because it focuses on the palatable part that challenges less assumptions and less people, that appeals to everyone. Everyone has mental health, so everyone should care about mental health! Yeah – that’s not wrong. But a lot of people are deemed mentally ill. A lot of people deal with the consequences of madness in this society their entire lives. And the narrative focusing on the easily digestible, easily implemented parts of mental health awareness leaves them behind yet again. It silences and harms them.

Psychiatry uses mental illness to uphold societal values. Always has. That’s why drapetomania was a proposed mental illness to explain why slaves wanted to escape slavery. That’s why being gay was classified as a mental illness until 1990, and being trans was classified a mental illness until 2019. And that is why one of the major diagnostic criteria for mental illness nowadays is disruption to a person’s ability to work – productivity and fitting into expectations of normality are societal values.

But people are very rarely encouraged to consider this. They are encouraged to be aware of the signs of common mental illness in the context of deriving from the expectations placed upon us, and recovery in the context of making people be productive citizens again. The common mental health awareness narrative traps us. It does not allow us to redefine healing, to discover the socioeconomic factors in wellbeing, to find community, or to change the pace at which we live. It does not allow us to think about the deeper questions of why, and how can this really be better.

But what would happen if we questioned? We would hear the voices of psychiatric survivors shouting about the abuse they have endured in the mental health system. We would discover how mental illness and criminalisation are deeply intertwined, and perhaps discover how to create true justice by supporting and liberating people in new ways. We would start to ask, what would happen if we didn’t sedate people into the same reality, but rather found ways to help people incorporate their own reality into their world? We would find new ways of sharing resources, kindness, connection, and changing the pace at which we live. We would find new language to define our human experience. We would free all of us to actually consider what happiness entails. Finally, we would find the link to all the other socioeconomic problems we are facing today, and in doing so find new solutions and progress towards all of them.

We need to be kind and we need to be supportive, but we don’t need to be afraid to really ask questions about mental health, its presentation, and the treatment of madness as it is. Mental health activism is needed. Mad liberation is needed. But a deep held belief that mad people need protecting – or being protected from – has too often tried to stifle the missing piece in social justice movements. Mad people deserve to be heard, believed, and treated with respect and dignity in social action spaces just like anyone else.

So I ask the question – is mad liberation the missing piece?

Maybe. I don’t know for sure. But I think it might be. I certainly think solidarity between oppressed, hurting, and caring people is necessary for progress. We won’t fix everything; we will get things wrong. But as long as we keep questioning, and keep learning, we can make a difference. It’s worth a try at the very least.

Advocacy, Mental Health

Mental Health is Intersectional

Posted on May 8, 2023 by Millie :)

Today is a blog reminding everyone of a certain point I try to illuminate all the time through my advocacy: mental health is intersectional. What does this mean? It means mental health is not a stand alone issue; it is connected to all other social justice issues, and all other parts of our lives. Intersectionality is about where these issues cross over, and how they cross over, and how if someone falls in the intersection of more than one (for example are faced with racism and ableism) it can create more problems for them that may be overlooked, ignored, or misunderstood by even the most well intentioned people – myself included. But intersectionality for me also is not just about these disadvantages and discriminations – which are of course very real and very harmful and deserve to be seen. It is also about problem solving, and hope.

The systemic issue of mental illness and its manifestation in individual people’s lives is not a stand alone issue. So it can be overwhelming to consider in a wider context because how the hell are we supposed to solve everything? I get it. It can be overwhelming, scary, and sometimes makes me want to just give up. But what if we chose to see intersectionality as empowering and a source of hope? Because it means we’re not just isolated as mental health advocates, or people who care about climate justice, or people who are trying to solve poverty. It means we are united as people who care. Understanding intersectionality, and continuing to be aware of how our understanding and circumstances may shift, allows us to be more creative in our solutions and more effective in our actions.

If we start to realise mental health care also means community care then we are not left helplessly shouting into an abyss; perhaps instead we are empowered to create a community event, or connect with friends in a more intentional way. If we realise mental health care also means food security, then we are empowered to donate to our local food banks and come up with innovative ways to share with our community. If we realise mental health care means antiracism then we are empowered to learn and be intentional in sharing this learning with the next generation. When we realise mental health care is intersectional, we actually create stronger bonds, stronger supports, and stronger futures.

We cannot shut our eyes to the world around us. But we might have a little bit of power over how we choose to view it. This country is becoming more and more authoritarian, and I don’t think it is an exaggeration to say it is sliding towards fascism in many ways.

From the 3rd May more laws restricting and criminalising protest – including union action! – will come into effect. Over the weekend over 50 people were arrested for protesting peacefully during the coronation ‘celebrations’ – which cost millions while more people than ever are below the poverty line. A country without protest is not a democracy. A country where the gap between rich and poor continues to widen with government support is not looking after its citizens. We cannot ignore this and we cannot allow this, and we have to recognise how it relates to all our social justice issues. How can we ever hope to see a country with good mental health if people do not have free speech and cannot afford to eat?

The good news is, resistance isn’t one size fits all. And understanding intersectionality can allow us to fight back in an effective, loving way. If everyone who can supports their food bank and creates community driven initiatives to eradicate food insecurity, the government can’t ignore it. If the artists create art, and the people who can protest go to protests, and the workers all strike, then it sends a message loud and clear that they can try all they want, but we aren’t having it. We care about each other and we want to see a brighter future. And that big message starts with small actions. It starts with having a conversation, donating a can of beans, drawing a picture, and offering to help out a neighbour. Even if you’re only making a difference to one person, and even if that person is you, you are still making a difference. Never think you cannot make a difference; it’s at least worth a try. However that looks for you, even if it looks like rest right now. You matter. And it all intersects.

Sending so much love and support to you all today xxx

Managing Mental Health, Mental Health, Personal Growth

What Grief Means To Me

Posted on April 24, 2023April 25, 2023 by Millie :)

Grief is something all of us will experience in our lives because death and endings are a part of life. And I suppose that can be a comfort, a way to make the grief make sense, but it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt. However the idea of grief is something many of us associate solely with death; in this last year redefining what grief is for me has helped me to process it and let myself grow. Grief doesn’t just apply to the death of a loved one – it applies to the end of a situation, a relationship, a friendship.

This post isn’t a deep dive into grief – the stages, the processes, the sharing and healing etc – there are so many wonderful resources out there already for that (although I would encourage anyone interested to also look for creative explorations and presentations of grief in art, theatre, literature etc because it’s so healing). This post is more like me outstretching my hand with my own experiences to tell anyone out there who might happen to stumble across this that it’s ok, I’ve been there too.

In the last year I have grieved a lot. And it hasn’t always been sad – I think most of us know grief isn’t like that. In fact, I didn’t even realise at first that I was grieving; being autistic I just thought I was having a hard time adjusting to change, and I felt a lot of shame around that, the need to just move on quicker. And, ok yeah, I do definitely find change difficult. But noticing and naming the grief has actually set me free a bit.

In June I lost my home. I left in the morning and I never went back; I had no idea that would be my last time leaving that house. I don’t remember leaving, I don’t remember the last thing I said to that person, the last time my dog came to say hello to me in the morning – because you’re not meant to remember those things. I had almost no reaction for 8 months, and then an intense explosion of anger. Feeling sad about it is still hard. And for a lack of a reaction, I thought I had a lack of grief. But I don’t. It affected my ability to feel safe in the place I am living, always feeling like any moment it could be pulled out from under me, and with that came the grief. That uncertainty was my way through to grief.

I also left my school, which I considered my home. And this was so hard to grieve because it seemed like everyone else moved on quicker and I was just stuck, but grieving school has been perhaps the most transformative experience of this year. It’s been my path through to expanding my sense of self, world, connection, and love. It also hurts. So if like me you are thinking you’re being too slow to move on from something, please know it is alright. You are allowed to take up space, to feel, and to go on your own journey. Even if it’s a positive step, leaving behind things that mattered so much to us is painful. And we do grieve things, situations and places – not just people.

I believe the thing about grief is you can’t force it or rush it. The only thing you can do is allow it, without allowing it to consume you. It’s hard but life does carry on. Maybe joy and excitement and purpose won’t look the same as before, but you are allowed to redefine these things.

This year I have grieved the death of my grandmother; the possibility of a relationship that could have been in the context of a death that will be; and perhaps strangest of all, I have grieved the living. All of these are complicated, all of them come with different challenges and presentations. Sometimes I feel shame because my strongest reactions are about a dog, or a place, rather than the person who has actually died. But really they all mix together in a way too; they link and lace around each other to become an imprint on me and my journey. I’m ok with that.

Point is – there is not one way to grieve. There is not one situation in which grief appears. And all of us will grieve many many times in our lives. This is your journey to figure out, but not alone; we are connected in our love and our loss, however it finds us.

Sending so much love and support to you all today xx

Mental Health

Songs for my Bipolar Experience

Posted on April 17, 2023April 15, 2023 by Millie :)

Music is a really important tool in how I connect to the world; I have music or a podcast playing nearly all the time for sensory reasons. Like with all creative arts, music can help us connect to others, express our experiences, and change or reflect our moods. There are some things about my experience that I feel communicated in songs more deeply than I ever good in words of my own.

So today I thought I’d share a playlist of sorts with songs that I feel connect with parts of my experience with bipolar disorder. They may be helpful in understanding what it’s like for someone else, or yourself, but they’re also really great songs so I would recommend giving them a listen! But obviously music can be quite powerful in how it makes us feel, so please use your own discretion. Let me know what you think of them in the comments below, and if you relate with any yourselves.

Control by Halsey

Captures that feeling of dangerous energy that comes along with my experience; the desire and lack of control

Piano Sonata No.14 in C# minor, Op.27 No.2, Moonlight – Presto (aka. Moonlight Sonata Movement 3)

My favourite version is played by Daniel Barenboim, I think he really conveys the emotion of the music. Such a beautiful piece of music that encapsulates the feeling of (hypo)mania for me, the energy and beauty and pain – I can find all of it in this piece

Light of Love by Florence and The Machine

This song resonates with a sense of healing for me, and gives me the power to keep going sometimes. It helps remind me that I am still me inside

The Sounds of Silence by Simon and Garfunkel

I know it’s become a bit of a meme song but the lyrics and harmonies of this song are truly amazing. I find it resonates with my experience of depression, especially the feeling of slipping back there again

A Reason to Fight by Disturbed

I mean the title says it all really. A powerful message of support and willing to stay and fight when it all gets too much

Both Sides Now by Joni Mitchell

In my opinion one of the best songs ever written. It has so much love, care, and growth in it and resonates with me differently every time I hear it. It reminds me of how I feel I change and grow through each episode, and the wholeness and seasons of life

I Miss the Mountains from Next to Normal

This musical is about a family where the mother has bipolar disorder and this song captures a sentiment I don’t hear talked about very often – that you can actually wish to go back to a time when it was worse. There’s a certain numbness and difficulty in adjusting to being ‘ok’ and a grief of life not lived, and this song really holds that message in a gentle way

Girl Anachronism by The Dresden Dolls

This song represents so much of the feelings of (hypo)mania for me, and what that itchy energy is like, not only at the time but also how the illness as a whole makes you feel set apart from the rest of the world sometimes; how it is a huge part of our lives and our identities

A Safe Place to Land by Sara Bareilles

This song is comforting to me in a lot of situations, especially when I’m overwhelmed or hopeless. It’s full of support and helps me feel held; like it can get better again. It reminds me I’m not alone

listen before i go by Billie Eilish

Really encapsulates a feeling of hopelessness in depression

She Used to Be Mine from Waitress

This song has been so immensely important to me on my journey, especially with addiction recovery (something a lot of people with bipolar struggle with). It holds both grief for who we used to be and a desire to fight and become who we can be. I just love it.

Quiet from Matilda The Musical

Again this really carries the sense of what it is like in my brain when mania starts to kick in, thoughts flowing from one to the next so quickly and loudly and how that can bring such anger. But also the calm end to the song captures a part of my experience I can’t even explain but is so very very real, and almost beautiful

Everybody Hurts by R.E.M

Comforting and well known, I listened to this song on repeat as I was dragging myself out of one of my first depressive episodes

Sky Full of Song by Florence + the Machine

Somehow carries a sense of both depression and mania for me – the exhaustion from going and going, pretending to be ok, not knowing you’re not etc etc. It is a song of pause and reconnection to myself

Hallelujah by Jeff Buckley

Obviously there are many other versions of this song but the feeling this version gives me is unrivalled. It mirrors that desperation of that desperation in depression for me, without actually making me feel depressed listening to it

Clown by Emeli Sandé

Feel like it spans a lot of different experiences in life and trying to reckon with them, but for me it also helps process the difficult feelings that come with facing the consequences of things that have happened/ you’ve done in an episode (or in addiction)

If you liked this post, please let me know as I have many other songs that resonate with different parts of my experience and I love sharing them! Sending love and support as always xxx

Advocacy, Mental Health

Why Do We Pathologize Pain?

Posted on April 10, 2023April 9, 2023 by Millie :)

We’ve come to pathologize emotional pain and human distress. That’s to say, we’ve come to medicalise it – give it labels that make it into a medical problem. And of course this serves a purpose in our society and our systems; I personally am hugely grateful for my mental health diagnoses because they help me understand myself and how I view the world. But the term ‘pathologizing’ goes beyond just medicalising emotions. It defines the problem that ensues from medicalising our emotions.

According to the Cambridge dictionary, pathologizing means: ‘the act of unfairly or wrongly considering something or someone as the problem, especially a medical problem’. This is something we see in mental health spaces all the time, with very little awareness of it. The way we discuss mental illness is so often through an individual lens. We ignore how the modern world’s expectations affect what we see as disordered – for example a huge criteria for mental illness diagnosis is a lack of productivity. But productivity is defined by societal norms and expectations. We label someone as depressed, saying they have a chemical imbalance while ignoring the fact that they are living in poverty and perhaps if they weren’t their mental health would look very different. At best we say that these external factors are simply contributors and not an essential part of our human experience; we ignore how we define was is disordered or not entirely.

There’s a million problems with this. It prevents us from trying to build a better world in a more informed way. It isolates sufferers and prevents them from getting the kind of care – like housing, community, less workload – that they actually need. I could go on and on about this (and I do quite often!) but today I want to answer the question – why do we do this?

Well pathologization stems in many ways from medicalisation. I think there’s benefits and issues within this itself, but it’s understandable why we do this. By giving clear criteria for diagnosis in a medical format it would seem we can more easily start a larger number of people getting treatment. Unfortunately this isn’t the case, but in theory this would seem to make that easier. It also allows us to have some kind of framework to understand ourselves and more easily find others who may have a similar experience – it has certainly helped me with this! And in theory it would help others have a doorway to understanding people with a mental illness by looking at it through a medical lens, so they would know how to start approaching the problem. Furthermore it also gives a structure for how we can syphon off funding for mental health care by making it a wholly medical service. All logical and on the surface optimistic reasons to medicalise emotional pain.

But soon we see the problems come in such as trying to ‘fix’ people to medical standards too rather than to their own standards. We start seeing people as the medical problems rather than as people with diverse experiences. We try to fit people into one route for fixing the issue because that’s easier. Medical problems need medical solutions right? Medication and hospitalisation rather than community and economic support. We see them as scores and issues. And soon we are pathologizing them. The individuals become the problem they present with, and when the one-size-fits-all treatment doesn’t work, we assume it must be the individual’s fault.

Maybe it’s just a natural progression from medicalisation then? But maybe it’s also a symptom of the way our western society functions as a whole. We are not exactly encouraged to see ourselves in the context of the world around us. We’re told we are individuals and isolated in many ways – so it would make sense that we see our problems as individual problems that need isolated solutions. So simply because of the way we have learned to exist in the world we don’t think to see our emotional distress as interconnected.

Then of course, as already mentioned, we live in a society driven by productivity at ever increasing speeds. We have an intolerance for difference, for people who need different support or cannot fit themselves into the world’s expectations of them. So we need to label them as disordered rather than face the idea that the way the systems are running isn’t working. It negates society’s responsibility to change and accommodate. But the thing is as the world gets faster, the economy gets worse, pressures get bigger, more and more people are finding themselves with mental health issues. Do you really think this is a coincidence? The world is becoming more and more incompatible with human rhythms of nature, so more people are finding themselves in distress. But also if the expectations shift to demand more of us or different things from us, then whatever behaviour doesn’t fit those expectations ends up being labelled as disordered.

And maybe it’s fear – we don’t want to face that we share emotions with someone with schizophrenia or bipolar. We don’t want to admit we relate to an autistic person, or can kind of see the sense in what that psychotic person is saying. We are scared that the difference lives in us too, maybe? And again – we have not learnt the skills to be able to conceptualise how others may live differently to us through their perceptions of the world. We have not learnt tolerance, nor we have not learnt to question the status quo – because it would threaten the status quo.

I think we pathologize pain because it’s the easiest thing to do when everything else seems so overwhelming. But we can begin to change this simply by opening ourselves to compassion; opening ourselves to a different narrative. We are all human and we are allowed to have deeply painful, wonderful, beautiful human experiences. That means sobbing our eyes out or seeing shadows no one else can. Feeling does not make us the problem.

Hopefully that made some kind of sense, my little brain ramblings on the internet. Sending so much love and support xxx

Happy Notes, positivity

50 Compliments That Are Not Appearance Based

Posted on April 9, 2023 by Millie :)

I know personally that it can feel a bit awkward to give or receive compliments, the protocol on when to compliment someone and how to react is a bit confusing to me. But I also like to imagine a society in which complimenting people was a more normal thing to do; where being open about how we feel (including our positive feelings towards others – complimenting them) was encouraged and normalised. However much of the time when we do compliment people it is appearance based. This is difficult because it can sometimes reduce someone to their appearance, which they don’t always have control over, and looks past who they are as a person and what they mean in our lives – especially when it’s to do with their body and not the way they dress (something they may use as a form of expression) for example. So I’ve put together a list of 50 compliments and open statements that are not appearance based. My challenge to you is to compliment at least one person a day for the next week on something other than their appearance. Let me know how it goes and any other ideas for compliments in the comments below!

You make me smile
You’re funny
You make me happy
You’re kind
You make me feel safe
You glow
Your sensitivity is so strong
I appreciate you
You inspire me
You’re so strong
I admire your work ethic
You mean a lot to me
I love your honesty
You have a great mindset
You’re so brave
You’re so loving
You’re are worthy
I am comfortable around you
You did great today
You are a warm person
You’re so understanding
You are a good listener
You are really insightful
You always care
You’re wonderfully unique
You are perfect exactly as you are
I wish more people were like you
I respect you
I trust you
I’m so happy you’re in my life
You’ve flourished as a person
You make a difference
You’re becoming even more amazing – and I didn’t think that was possible
Your personality lights up the room
You deserve good things
You’re great at giving advice
I love how passionate you are about (blank)
I love your imagination
You matter to me
I love being around you
I love how confident you are
You make people feel important
I respect your integrity
You are a generous person
You’re have an open heart
You are on your perfect path
I’m proud of you
Your ideas/ beliefs matter
Your happiness is infectious
You are a great leader