Posted in Advocacy, Mental Health

Over Pathologisation of Mental Health

We hear a lot nowadays about removing the stigma from mental illness, and that is incredibly important. After all, we all have mental health. But I also I think it’s essential while advocating in mental health spaces that we not only call for destigmatisation, but we also question the systems; call out the injustices of the systems meant to care for us. We must question whether medicalisation of mental health really helps us. Would it be necessary if our society wasn’t structured the way it is in the west? Does it further the link between mental illness and criminalisation? Because destigmatising mental distress isn’t only recognising that it exists, it’s asking why it exists, is the language we use to describe mental illness helpful, what does healing really mean, and how are we failing to learn the lessons from our madness? So here are some of my musings on the over pathologisation of mental health:

It individualises our pain without individualising our care – that is to say it tells us we are broken, it is our individual chemistry that is flawed, and we are to blame, yet also not putting us at the forefront of understanding our pain and choosing how we heal. It tells us we are too sick to know what’s really good for us, or that we don’t know ourselves well enough. It doesn’t allow us to learn who we are and what’s really at the root of our pain; doesn’t encourage us to put it into a sociopolitical context, and the context of what has informed our life. Doesn’t allow us to heal with others.

There is no community. No value given to peer support, to healing with others who are experiencing the same things or similar things or completely different things, but feel safe to heal with. Doesn’t encourage the connections that are vital to long term healing and alternative methods of care. If you want proof that peer support methods of healing work, look at AA – it revolutionised care for alcoholics. What was a death sentence became an opportunity for hope and healing.

Our pain is shunned and labelled, pathologised. Instead of learning to embrace the madness as part of who we are, we learn shame which in turn births more pain. Instead of learning to see mental distress as a natural human reaction, however difficult, we learn to be afraid of it. Language that could be used to free us is instead weaponised against us to strip us of our wholeness and our identity through clinical rotes.

But it doesn’t have to be that way. I don’t have all the answers. I listen to psychiatric abolitionists and I think, yeah, they have the answer. I listen to amazing healers in other cultures outside of the west and am filled with inspiration and hope. Then I look back at the world as it is and wonder if we don’t need to adapt our goals to be a little more realistic within the current frame of society here in the UK. I don’t have the answer nor a clear label for my ideology surrounding this all. But I do have hope. And I do know things are already changing. 

We don’t have to wait to build communities. We don’t have to wait to create new ways of healing. We don’t have to wait to find hope. 

You can also find a version of this post on my Instagram @our.happy.notes

Posted in Managing Mental Health, Mental Health, positivity

Identity in Mental Illness

As an autistic person with mental illnesses sometimes it can be hard to figure out who I am.

If you have diagnoses you might feel like you have to split up parts of yourself and your actions into boxes, like this part of you is autism and that part of you is anxiety, for example.

Or you might feel like your whole identity is your diagnoses.

Even without a diagnosis you might feel like parts of you are defined by the way you feel, split up and separate.

This can make us feel like we have to be ashamed of these parts of ourselves or like we are not really whole. It can be confusing to know who we are and find our identity in the midst of it all.

Then you add in other identity factors like sexuality, gender, and race which in many cases can complicate our mental health and understanding of ourselves even further – especially because it impacts how others see us, and this is even more prevalent for minority identities.

Rather than trying to see ourselves as a selection of different parts and separate ourselves into these parts, maybe we can start to think of it more like colours blended together and filters on the image of who we are.

Like my anxiety is red and it bleeds into my passion for theatre which is blue. They mix to create a purple in the middle, and that’s where stage fright lives. But all the colours are a part of me, blending together to make me who I am.

And my autism is a filter with a yellow tinge and that does affect how I view and interact with the whole world, but it isn’t my whole identity, nor is it separate to every other part of me. They all work together in different ways to make me who I am.

At the end of the day, you don’t have to have everything figured out about your life and who you are. No one does. It’s a journey and an ongoing process which can be really scary to think about. But it’s actually pretty amazing, all these colours that make up the rainbow of you, changing and growing each day. Remember – no one but you gets to define who you are; your identity is personal and you don’t owe it to anyone else, nor do you need to define who you are! 

But you are wonderfully unique, allowed to take up space, and your rainbow is so much more than you could ever imagine.

Posted in Advocacy, autism, Mental Health

Diagnosis – Good, Bad, or Dependant on the System?

Validation:

It can be very hard to access treatments and be validated by ‘professionals‘ within this system without a diagnosis. Budget issues and a mental health system based in oppression that seeks to produce productivity rather than healing and often doesn’t recognise its intrinsic links to all other aspects of capitalist society doesn’t help this. However, more importantly, without a diagnosis it can be hard to validate ourselves – to give ourselves permission to display certain symptoms, feel what we feel, and believe that it’s real.

Getting a diagnosis can be a validating and liberating experience for many people – my autism diagnosis certainly was for me. It helped me understand myself, put my entire life into context, and connect with other people going through similar experiences. That was incredibly useful with all my diagnoses – finding people going through the same thing and learning how they were managing in a world often not built for us which helped me find ways to define and facilitate my own healing. Community truly is a powerful force. It teaches us that we are not alone, and is one of the most invigorating tools in supporting mental health; my diagnoses are helping me find mine.

But we must ask the question – why do we lack validation without a diagnosis? Why have we not been taught validation and community by the systems surrounding us? If human experience was universally understood as fluid and acceptable, would we need diagnoses at all?

Stigma and Stereotyping:

However, diagnoses have also been used as oppressive tools throughout history, and being given a diagnosis can be a terrifying experience. For example women could be put into mental institutions if their husbands thought they weren’t living up to their duties and this was justified under the label of hysteria. Nowadays Black women are significantly more likely to be diagnosed with BPD – this may be a misdiagnosis of a neurodivergency (chronically under recognised in Black people) or due to how their traits and emotions are perceived so different within the system. Black people are also four times more likely to be detained under the Mental Health Act in the Uk – a hugely oppressive tool that twins criminal incarceration.

It may feel like a condemnation to receive a diagnosis due to preconceived notions of stigmatised mental illnesses, and lack of care options. Sometimes it can seem like a lifetime of suffering and inevitable failures lie ahead. It may even be harder to be taken seriously within the system – especially in psychiatry wards where any legitimate complaints can be brushed off as ‘symptoms’. Telling family and friends may elicit negative reactions due to their preconceived ideas, regardless of how positive the experience was for the individual

Stuck in a Box:

Although it can be liberating to understand your behaviour through the lens of a diagnoses, it can also be challenging when dealing with others and interpreting your own experience. It can be difficult to know where you start and where the illness ends, or to what extent you should view yourself as your illness. It can be difficult to know whether an emotional reaction is ‘natural’ or a symptom or a potential warning for future issues. It can be difficult to be heard and seen as anything but your diagnosis and your experiences as anything separate or unrelated to it by others.

Diagnosing a mental illness is not straight forward. No one person presents the same, and often two psychiatrists will have completely different opinions leading to misdiagnosis/ confusion for the individual trying to grapple with many opinions and find understanding.

And yet once given a diagnosis we are often stuck in a box or a more rigid understanding of who we are and how me must think and will behave. Does that seem logical? It doesn’t to me. But it’s understandable within a system that looks for easy processing, and profit – both achieved through the over medicalisation of human distress. 

When the DSM was first released in 1952 there were 102 diagnoses in it. By 2000 there were 365. This has since reduced again – but you can see how inexact and dramatic the medicalisation has been.

Nonetheless, getting a diagnosis, finding community and comfort it in, can be a very positive experience. My autism diagnosis certainly was for me, and being able to say I’m bipolar helps me feel whole and proud of everything I’ve been through. But getting those diagnoses, navigating conversations, therapy, and life with them has been challenging and complicated. And I am privileged in many ways. Bottom line – receiving a diagnosis is not something to be afraid of, and if your experience was good then that is amazing, and valid! But negative experiences are just as valid too. Perhaps even more so because they often fall on the more marginalised. And everyone’s emotions, pain, and trauma are valid with or without a label. We deserve a society that teaches us that.

Sources

  • Sedated: How modern capitalism created our mental health crisis by James Davies
  • verywellmind.com 
  • mind.org.uk
  • Phenomenology of Borderline Personality Disorder, The Role of Race and Socioeconomic Status, Natacha M. De Genna, PhD and Ulrike Feske, PhD
  • My brain
Posted in Advocacy, Mental Health

Is It Really Ok Not to Be Ok?

You may have heard the phrase ‘it’s ok not to be ok’ floating around. I myself have posted it on my Instagram page. And let me make it clear – I absolute believe it is ok not to be ok. It is acceptable, and in many ways healthy and necessary, to feel the full spectrum of emotions – including the ones that would come under the category of ‘not ok’. However when I hear this statement, I bristle against it. I always have. Somehow the statement seems to place an onus on the person feeling the emotions to allow themselves to feel them. And yes, that’s kind of the point. The first step to healing is often simply learning to feel and recognise what we feel/ why. But this statement brings to the forefront of my mind a deeper problem – that many of us can’t allow ourselves to feel.

In our society, if many of us were to allow ourselves to not be ok, we would need time off work or school. It would impact our productivity in a capitalist system that thrives of productivity, that measures our value and worth on what we can contribute. And many of us simply can’t afford to take time off work, or miss out on education when there won’t be someone to help us ‘catch up’. If people can’t afford to self isolate in the middle of a global pandemic because of economic struggles, how are they ever to be expected to take a day off work for their mental wellbeing, until it is so far degraded they are forced to, or they have internalised any struggles so trauma continues to be passed down through generation and unspoken interpersonal difficulties spread in our communities rather than a strengthening love between us?

Then there’s the issue of needing support, emotionally. When current mental health systems are set up in a way that fails to individualise care, fails to help minorities, recognise the impact of societal structures on our mental health, looks to healing in the context of productivity and ‘normality’, and incarcerates those it cannot get to conform without true sympathy – with all of this, how are we meant to truly allow ourselves to not be ok if we can’t trust or rely on a system meant to help us? An incompetent system. And even when it does help us, getting access to care in the first place takes months or years.

Next comes the issue of how these systems have impacted individual psyches. Mental health issues continue to be on the rise. And I stress that I am writing about this not to bum anyone out, but because when we talk about these issues, we empower ourselves to build a brighter future. I truly do believe that. An estimated 50% of people will meet the diagnostic criteria for a mental illness in their lifetime, and pretty much all of us feel the impacts of the world around us on our mental wellbeing at some time or another in our lives. After all, we all have mental health. So we need people to rely on, support networks. But it can be a challenge finding that in professional systems. Well then maybe we find that in our communities instead. That would be ideal. Except, we haven’t been taught how to support each other. We haven’t been taught how to build strong communities, or societies built on care for each other and working together rather than survival in a capitalist environment. And with everyone dealing with their own battles in life, it can be incredibly difficult to find our way through it all and build support systems. We simply don’t know how. But I believe we can learn. I have hope that with communities of people healing together, we can truly make ‘it’s ok not to be ok’ mean that – with none of this background context that I perceive now.

All your emotions are valid, and it is ok not to be ok. But it is also necessary that we continue to destigmatize mental health through breaking down the systems that compound the issues connecting it. Sending love and support to you all today x

Posted in Advocacy, autism

Ugly Autism

As always when talking about autism, I want to remind everyone that autism is not a mental illness. It is a type of neurodivergency; this basically means as autistic people our brains think and process information differently to the ‘norm’ that is expected in the world. However autistic people are more likely to suffer with mental health issues, largely in part to the fact that we are living in a world that isn’t built for us. I’ve talked about an overview on autism acceptance before – which you can read here – but today I wanted to discuss the complexity of an autistic experience and how as more people get involved in autism acceptance and advocacy (which is an amazing thing that I am thrilled to see!) we must keep in mind the spectrum of experiences and therefore the complexity of the necessary solutions.

Sometimes my autism isn’t pretty. I can still fit into the world as I am expected to, but that comes with effort which often goes unseen or under-appreciated. I can do this reasonably easily compared to some, and this is in part due to other aspects of my identity (such as my race) and the supportive people who surround me. You can view this as lucky or not; I think in a way it is unfortunate. It’s unfortunate that I have to manipulate the very essence of the way I think in order to fit into systems I often have no desire to engage with in the first place. I think it’s unfortunate that we can even frame this as ‘lucky’ because that just points to how painful life is for those who can’t, and how this pain is worse than the struggle of concealing one’s true self. While I do frame my autism as my superpower sometimes, I do not believe in the rhetoric that it is a blessing – this also lends to the rhetoric that it could be a tragedy when in reality it just is what it is. I frame it as my superpower personally because that helps me cope with its challenges, and because being autistic is so central to my identity that embracing it in a society that often doesn’t is radically self loving for me. My mental health issues are not the same as me being autistic, but since autism affects how I process everything they are of course intertwined and I have no doubt that being autistic in a world that isn’t has been part of how bad my mental illness has gotten and how confusing it has been to understand. In particular I think my early experiences of mental health issues (before they developed into a clear mood disorder of their own) were heavily intertwined with my autistic experience.

So why am I telling you all this? To give you the smallest cross-section of just one person’s autistic experience, and the complexity of even trying to begin to comprehend that experience, so that you might begin to grasp how neurodivergency and the way it is approached by society is not something that can be easily defined or explained. And that is essentially the point of this post. There are more conversations happening around neurodivergency now then ever before – and that is a joyous and wonderful thing! But these conversations cannot be dulled down to a single Instagram post, or a single profile of autism – which threatens to be the most easily palatable representation of autism. Think of how mental health awareness is sometimes boiled down to self-care, bosses offering a free yoga class to their employees, and pity for the people who can’t socialise but can still just about get through a days work. This kind of awareness fails to recognise or help those suffering in ways that are uncomfortable for us to hear about, or impede how they might function in the systems they are expected to – it doesn’t help the person who has to take a year off work, nor the person who has to call an ambulance because they are convinced they’re dying, nor the person who lashes out at others with angry words because they can’t deal with their inner turmoil. I don’t want a similar pattern to happen as we see more autistic and neurodivergent awareness and representation. We can’t afford to ignore the messy parts of autism that might make some people a bit uncomfortable, or the fact that many neurodivergent people can’t (or don’t want to) participate in traditional capitalist structures that aren’t set up to support them. As there is more awareness, we must show the full array of autistic experiences – from all races, with comorbid mental health issues, different traits, physically disabled autistic people etc etc.

Autism and neurodivergency can’t become something trendy, like a new kind of personality test for CEOs to try and enhance their team and their diversity. They just need to become tolerated, known, understood. Because neurodivergency isn’t always palatable; sometimes it’s messy and it’s different and we have to make sure we don’t run the risk of autistic and adhd people who can more easily fit into the societal expectations (and who want to, because not everyone does) getting ahead and heralded as some liberal caring symbol for employers – for example, while others continue to be ignored. 

Posted in Managing Mental Health, Mental Health

How to Support Someone With Mental Health Issues

It can be extremely hard to watch someone you love and care about going through a tough time regarding their mental health. It can also be painful if someone close to you discloses their mental illness or mental health struggles and you had no idea about it. You may feel like a failure yourself, like there’s nothing you can do, like you are useless. Essentially it may start to impact your mental health as well. That’s why the most important thing to remember when supporting someone with mental health issues is that you need to look after yourself as well. You have to.

1. Look after yourself

Sometimes we want to rush in and save the whole world – fix everything – but this simply isn’t possible. Perhaps at first it may seem like a good idea to try and take on the other person’s issues entirely as your own, without giving yourself the space needed to process your own emotions. In fact for a short while this may actually help the other person – but that’s not sustainable; long term it will lead to you burning out, struggling yourself or becoming resentful, likely making the entire situation worse. That’s why it’s so important to look after yourself, even if this is just journaling at the end of the day to help you sort out the feelings of the day, or doing a hobby once a week, the possibilities are limitless and you have to find what works for you. The important thing is that you do find it. And putting in boundaries with the person you are supporting can also help this, and most likely will help them in the long run too.

2. Listen to them

Many people with mental health issues, especially when they are first opening up about them, doubt themselves, feel ashamed or invalidated. By listening to them with an open mind you can help lessen these feelings. And by listening, I mean just that. Not everyone wants (nor even needs) advice or solutions all the time, sometimes they just need to be heard so they feel a little less alone. When having a conversation about their emotions/ experience it can be really helpful to ask the question ‘would you like me to offer advice or just listen to you?’. Validating their experience through listening to them can have a huge impact for someone struggling and give them confidence and reassurance. Remember that they are the one that lives in their brain, and they know what they are going through better than anyone else; it’s not your job to dictate to them what they are undergoing. However, linking to my last point, it is important that you don’t take on all of their feelings for yourself, so placing boundaries can be really helpful – for example requesting that before they talk to you, they ask you if you are in a place to have that conversation.

3. Involve them

Going through a tough time mentally can feel very isolating, and our brains can make us feel very lonely and rejected. That’s why it’s important to continue to involve someone who is struggling mentally. This could mean continuing to invite them to social events while making clear there is no pressure or expectations placed upon them to attend. If they accept and invitation, it might then mean making some accommodations for them, like helping them order food if that’s a point of anxiety for them or giving them some space if they need it for example. It might also mean offering to meet them one on one for a while if that’s easier for them, or talking with them about plans to keep them safe and checking in with them regularly. To relate to my last point, if you’re unsure of what to do, you can always ask them if they have any ideas or if there’s a way you can accommodate them better. This is a huge sign that you care for and accept them still.

4. Research their experience

If the person you are supporting has a diagnosis or has disclosed to you specific symptoms, it can be helpful for your own knowledge to research this. A quick google search will bring up symptoms lists and examples of how these might affect them, but I would also encourage you to look beyond this and read up on the personal experience of different people from different walks of life to get a clearer picture. This can help you understand the person you are supporting better without the worry that you are prying to much, and it can help them to feel seen as this informs how you support them.

5. Make them a happy kit

I’ve made a previous post on this, which you can read here. A happy kit is essentially a little collection of things that can help someone process their emotions, get through a crisis moment, or just generally cheer them up. It can include some things that they find calming or cheering, and maybe a list of distractions and mini coping exercises to try. Distractions are also a really great way to help someone with a mental health issue – it’s not a long term fix but it can help them escape their brain for a minute and feel more ready to face the day. If a distraction is creative it could also be a way of helping them to express themselves, and feel less alone if you’re doing it together.

6. Help with small tasks

Small tasks such as cleaning, ordering food, or remembering deadlines can become seemingly impossible for someone experiencing a mental health struggle. If you feel up to it you can offer to help them with these small tasks, even if that’s just by doing it with them (for example cleaning together one afternoon, or going food shopping together). As always, asking them how best to help is always a good idea, and if they’re not sure offering something specific – such as sending them a reminder text – might appeal to them.

7. Show them you care

It’s simple, but one of the most helpful and meaningful things anyone has ever done for me during my own struggles has been showing me they cared. This could mean writing someone a supportive letter, or making them a playlist. Just something simple that lets them know you care.

7. Be patient

We all have mental health and it can be a long term challenge to face for many. Someone in the midsts of a struggle isn’t going to overcome it overnight, but with amazing people like you willing to support them, they can find their way through. Keep in mind that you need to be patient – one of the reasons why looking after yourself is so important – and that their struggles are not a comment on you, ever. Eventually the sun will come shining through!

Posted in Happy Notes, Notes

Random Acts of Kindness

Kindness is something intangible, and yet it is very real and very powerful. In the Cambridge dictionary kindness is defined as ‘the quality of being generous, helpful, and caring about other people, or an act showing this quality’. If we think back on our lives I’m sure we can think on many moments where people have shown us kindness. Sometimes a seemingly small or insignificant act of kindness can have the greatest impact – for example someone helping someone else carry a bag on a particularly bad day could remind them that there is good in the world and prevent them from spiralling into a worse place mentally. And sometimes it’s the grand gestures of kindness over a long period of time that make an impact on us – for me the fact that my friends never gave up on me during the dark times is one the greatest acts of kindness that I have ever experienced. The point is, what we qualify as a kind act may be vary for each of us, but the underlying caring and generosity always helps to brighten up the world and our lives.

Back in November I posted on my Instagram about a 30 day random acts of kindness challenge. The idea behind it was to inspire myself and others to think about doing something small but kind once a day in order to be more mindful about how we can make a positive impact on the people and world around us. Why? I believe that when we put good energy out there, it spreads – a bit of a butterfly effect if you will – and it goes beyond the original act of kindness. Also, as someone who struggles with their mental health I know that being kind can have a profound effect on how I feel; it makes me feel better about myself and also helps to get me out of the cycle of my thoughts. But don’t forget you can also show yourself kindness, in many forms, and that is just as important. It helps us to be able to function better and feel better and do even more for others.

So here’s a list of 31 random acts of kindness. I would encourage you to try one out, or make it a challenge to do one a day for the next 31 days! Please comment below with any more ideas or stories of how someone else has helped you out:

  1. Tell someone you appreciate them
  2. Sign a petition for a cause you care about
  3. Say hello to someone and ask how they are
  4. Donate old clothes to a charity store
  5. Hold the door for someone
  6. Bake or cook something and give it to someone – a neighbour, family member, coworker
  7. Give three honest compliments
  8. Write a happy note and leave it for someone to find/ post it online (use #ourhappynotes)
  9. Comment something positive on a post
  10. Make/ hang some bird feeders
  11. Leave a thank you note for your mail carrier or another civil worker who does a lot for you
  12. Buy some food for a food bank
  13. Smile at someone
  14. When you’re going on an errand, ask a neighbour/ friend if they need you to do anything for them
  15. Share a post about an issue you care about
  16. Write some positive messages on the pavement with chalk
  17. Leave a bit of change in a vending machine
  18. Bring some food to a homeless person
  19. Wear your mask with vigilance if you can – this one should be some every day!
  20. Support a small local business, either with money or by leaving a positive review/ following them online
  21. Spend the day trying to be kind to yourself – listening to what you need, letting your emotions be, relaxing etc
  22. Do a chore that someone else would usually do
  23. Plant something
  24. Have a complaint free day
  25. Send a letter to an elderly person
  26. Read an article to educate yourself on an issue
  27. Encourage someone
  28. Check in on your friends
  29. Write to your MP/ representative about something you feel needs attention
  30. Let someone go ahead of you in line
  31. Brainstorm more ideas for kindness and how you can incorporate it into your everyday life

Let’s spread some sparkly, shiny, generous energy in the world! Sending all my love and support,

Millie xx

Posted in Advocacy, autism, Personal Growth

Autism is My Superpower

I’m autistic. Having autism in a neurotypical world is not easy because generally the world isn’t built for us and proves to be confusing, but for anyone struggling with their diagnosis/ symptoms (and any neurotypicals unclear on the individual nature of autism) I want to make it clear that having autism isn’t a defect. Nor is it a mental illness. In fact, it can be a bonus in many situations, and when accommodated to autistic people can provide new perspectives and skills to the benefit of others. I, for one, like to think that my autism is my superpower, and this is my personal experience:

I learnt to ‘mask’ my autism – consciously learning how to act and react from other people’s behaviour; having to put effort into learning social rules that came naturally to others. Masking can be exhausting, so I know it’s essential that I take breaks and find time for myself, but like a superhero in a costume, it can also be powerful. How? Because my passion is theatre, and when I become the character I act out on stage, I am easily able to slip myself into their shoes – I know how they would behave and why. It comes effortless to me. The misconception is that autistic people are like robots and can only slot into certain careers. In reality we are varied like everyone else, and our uniqueness is incredible. We exist in every identity there is: every race, every gender, every sexuality, as parents and children. Our variety is often overlooked.

My increased sensory input is a key feature of my superpower. I observe more, hear more, taste more. This translates to a benefit in so many situations. You don’t know your train time? Don’t worry, I glanced at the board quickly and noticed it. You’re lost and don’t know the way back? Don’t worry, I spotted landmarks along the way, I know where we’re going. You’re trying to remember where you put your glasses? Never fear, I spotted them. And if we’re thinking about sound and music, my greater sensory input comes to my aid once again – that along with my ability to spot patterns as part of my autism, and my synaesthesia (which is far more prevalent among autistic people than the general population). When I hear a piece of music, it is alive to me. It is full of colour, I hear every layer of the rich instruments, and I can see the patterns the notes are forming. If I want to then play that piece on piano, I need only translate the pattern onto the keys – give me a bit of time and I can paint the picture I hear all by myself. This is my superpower. 

Not to mention the fact that I am quite simply neurodivergent. I think experience the world in a way that is different to ‘the norm’, or rather the majority. Why is this a feature of my superpower? Because I can come up with new ideas and perspectives that may have been overlooked or not thought of at all. In certain situations this can become the way I overcome challenges or help others to do so; in the right combination my divergent thinking could be innovative. Us autistic people have a place in this society, no matter where our traits lie on the spectrum, and if we are accommodated we may even be able to offer solutions, certainly valuable contributions at the least. 

Like a superhero may have an emblem, sign, or symbol, I have my stims. By stims I mean self stimulatory behaviour. Why is this so amazing? Well, it indicates to me how I am feeling (different stims, like tapping my fingers on my palm or twirling my ankle, correspond to different moods). Not only this, but should I start to feel an uncomfortable emotion, stimming freely can help calm me down. There’s a lot of people out there that don’t have something so simple in their toolbox, so this is powerful to me. It’s also such a pure form of expression, and can even help me release my creativity, tapping into my flow. Furthermore, my stims evolve over time – hitting my head morphed into covering my head and now I need only put on a hat to feel at home. How awesome is that? 

This barely scratches the surface of my positive autistic experience, but I hope it has enlightened you. Autism is not a bad thing – quite the opposite. And the beautiful part of it is that no one autistic person’s experience is the same as another. We have a place in this world, and we’re not going anywhere, so the more that neurotypicals begin to understand and help us meet our needs, the more we can give.

Posted in Mental Health, Personal Growth

Letter to Anyone With Disordered Eating

Dear you,

I’ll start by saying hello and that I care, in case no one has said that to you today. Where you are right now, I’ve been there. Maybe not physically, but in some way mentally, and certainly in empathy with you. Some days you’ve probably told yourself you’re not struggling, it’s not hard, it’s worth it – I know I did. And deep down I also know that you know it’s not. It never will be. So here’s my letter to you. Not to say stop or that the pain goes away overnight, just to speak to you as someone who cares, and let you be.

You may think this is all about ‘skinny’; that this is all about achieving the version of yourself that you ‘should’ be. You might think you’re in control. It feels good to be in control right? To know your goals, your focus for the day or the month. I get that. The problem is that in the end, you’re not. And, wow, that is painful to realise. It crushed me when I did. It brought back the struggle of every step I’d been through. But it was necessary. In the end it controls you – whether that is your thoughts or this system telling you that you will never be enough until you fit into that dress, it controls you. And all of a sudden what you were fighting for becomes the thing you are fighting to get away from. In a way, if you really look, you can see this all along. I don’t want you to feel that terror or that hurt, but I want you to know you are not alone in that and the sooner you can get away from it the better.

The good news is that you can. I’m not forcing you to – I’m not another voice telling you to eat more or eat less or do this or that because they can be annoying right? And they can fuel us, I know they did for me. I lived for the finger on my spine telling me how skinny I’d gotten; I lived for the voice telling me how healthy I looked, thinking I’d failed. You’ve never failed. There’s never anything you should be. All I want to do is remind you of your power and your strength because my goodness have you got a lot of it. Think I’m wrong? Well let’s have a look at it, logically – maybe you’ve been restricting for months, purging for years, feeling unworthy for what seems like a lifetime, binging every night? That takes effort. That is blood and sweat and tears, often literally. But the effort it took just to put into that system shows you just how much power you have in you to reverse it. That strength can be turned around to go the other way and to learn, or relearn perhaps, that you are enough just the way you are. What makes you who you are is not your body.

Words like that seem futile though sometimes, don’t they? Well, I’ll let you in on a secret, I don’t love my body. Most people don’t love their bodies, at least not everyday. But what I do have now is a deep appreciation for how incredible the inner workings of my body are. They’re insane! And most days – I have acceptance. That’s all I need. Acceptance that this food fuels my brain, and that I am enough in this moment. Just enough. Not to say I don’t still struggle, because I do, I really do, but I look back on the pain I was in and I wonder how I ever survived. I didn’t even realise it at the time. It took someone reaching out and telling me they’d been there too for me to even comprehend the idea that this wasn’t healthy for me to be under such mental stress, let alone physical. You are not alone.

Most likely you know all the issues that await if you head down this road further, so I’m not here to preach that to you, but to give you hope of a life outside of this. Of an acceptance and tolerance I for one could not even dream of at one point. My dear you are doing alright – whatever has brought you to this point does not deserve your magnificence or your power. I want to remind you that help is a brave word and there are so many people out there ready and willing to help you in so many different capacities no matter what your struggle may be. I love you, and you are worthy of a life outside of a fixation on your looks. We all are.

Your friend,

Millie

Posted in Advocacy, Happy Notes, Mental Health, Notes, Personal Growth

What is positivity?

This post is inspired by I note I made for my Instagram – @our.happy.notes – which read: ‘For me being positive doesn’t mean being happy or positive all the time, it means allowing myself to appreciate the moments that I do feel positive, and allowing the possibility of hope to exist’. I wrote it because being the inquisitive person I am and being active on social media brought the thought into my mind – what is positivity? What does positivity mean to me?

I’m a person that tends to find myself living in extremes. There either is or there isn’t. I am all or nothing. So with positivity and a mood disorder, I found that I either lived in a state of overwhelming optimist or complete lack of any positive thought at all. What I have found interesting, and beneficial to my mental health, is exploring the space in between. The idea that even in positive moments I can accept that it won’t last forever, and in the times where I lack such I can acknowledge that it doesn’t mean that positivity has disappeared.

I think sometimes even in well meaning spaces, there can be such a pressure to be positive and see the good in life. Unfortunately this simply isn’t possible all of the time, and when we put pressure on ourselves to feel one way or the other it can lead to us feeling even worse. The reality of the situation is that all emotions on the spectrum are valid. Yet the lack of positivity or hope in one moment does not mean it will never return; that it has ceased to exist. Nowadays this is something I like to remind myself – writing it out helps me to absorb it.

So, what is positivity to me? Positivity is not the blind belief in a bright future, but the acceptance of the fact that a bright future could exist. It is allowing the possibility of a good day for someone else happening, even if it isn’t for me. It is embracing the small, joyful things in life – the most minute parts of the world that make me a little less down, even if only for a moment. It is an intangible thing, an emotion, an idea – a beautiful prospect.

However I recognise that in moments we really can want to increase our positive thoughts and feelings in life. I am no expert on this, though I do have some tools that have helped me. In the morning I write down affirmations for the day – ‘Today can be a good day’, ‘I am enough’, etc. In the evening I write a gratitude list – ‘I have a roof over my head’, ‘someone smiled at me in the street’. I list the small things in life that bring me joy. I allow myself to dream wildly, but remind myself that whether or not these dreams materialise, I will be ok. I smile; sometimes I simply sit there and I smile. And when I feel that positivity is disappearing, that hope is waning, I repeat aloud and write on paper that they are not gone forever. These might seem a little silly, but they are some of the most healing things toward my mental health.

Sending love and support to anyone who needs it today!

Love, Millie x