On Why I Run

I started running this week.

I signed up to run a 5k event in October too.

Those who know me in real life have been shocked, impressed and slightly suspicious as to who this body snatcher is inhabiting their friend.

I didn't do running. I wouldn't run for a bus. I wouldn't run for anything really. Not that I was lazy, though I was dreadfully unfit of course, but I just didn't do running.

Now I get up at 6am and go for a half an hour run with the aid of the Couch 2 5k programme.

Yep. You heard right. 6am. SIX. In the AM.

Those who know me in real life are again wondering if body snatchers like to get up early.

Believe me, nobody is more surprised about this than me.

But I am addicted. On rest days I am restless, waiting for the next time I get to put my trainers on and go for it.

So what caused the change?

I nearly died. I had pneumonia and nearly died. I ended up on death's door at Bristol Royal Infirmary with double pneumonia and asthma so severe I nearly died.

Do you know what that's like? To feel your life draining away because you can't get a breath? To know that unless you fight, I mean LITERALLY, fight for your life that everything you love is gone forever? Do you know how it feels to actually nearly give into the temptation to just let go? To just let yourself slip away and no longer be?

It's fucking scary.

So when I got out of hospital I stopped smoking, I started eating healthily and started walking more.

Then I got the urge to run.

I heard that exercise is good for depression. I think that if you manage to get out of bed with depression that you are already winning, but I have to say that on the days when I run I am happy. Really happy.

Knackered. But happy.

When I am out there I get strange looks sometimes. I could do with a sports bra to keep my jelly belly still to be honest as it slows me down a bit. I get honked at by van drivers, I get giggled at by dog walkers, this mad, beetroot coloured, sweating, panting woman who is trying to just run for one more minute. Just one more. Come on Deeva, you can do this. You can run for another minute...

There is also that sweet moment when the woman on your running app tells you RUN just as the bass drops on Flux Pavillion's Bass Cannon in your ears and that makes you feel invincible.

I go out really early and sometimes I worry about that. I am vulnerable to attack, to fat shaming, to the perception that if anything were to happen to me that I was asking for it (I wear VERY short shorts).

But I don't even care. I run.

And this is why I run.

At 6am the world belongs to me. I don't have to look good. I don't have to smell good. I just have to run.

I don't have to be polite to people I don't like. I don't have to be anyone at all. I just have to run.

I am not in competition with anyone. I am good enough. I am the best that I can be. I don't have to worry that anyone is judging me. I just have to run.

The wind is in my hair. I can hear my blood. I can feel the road through my feet. Water tastes like nectar. My breath is ragged then smooth. It is vital. I am alive. I am me. I am alive, alone, doing something that is just for me and nature is running with me, though me.

I am exhilarated. I am addicted to that exhilaration. I am a goddess.

I run.

Depression Part 2 - Guest Post

When I wrote part 1 of this guest blog, I thought I had a pretty good knowledge of the subject. Having suffered my own dark time and had previous discussions with friends and acquaintances, I saw myself as some kind of all-seeing eye,  I can now admit that I did not know as much as I thought!

I received many comments, it definitely split opinion. Everyone agreed about the value of talking and being supportive of your friends, but that is something that I think everybody should do as a matter of course in everyday life. The main thing that split opinion was the value of medication.

The trouble with it seems to be, that no two people are the same. What works for one person doesn’t for the next. Much like the cause of depression, the number of potential remedies seem enormous. I have since spoken with people who spend large chunks of their life switching meds trying to find one that works for them, others who have found what works for them and are much happier because of that fact. There is also the group  who decided meds weren't for them and tried to wean themselves off, to varying degrees of success.

Suffice to say I opened up the proverbial can of worms. The only conclusion I can draw from this is that you have to find your own path. If something doesn’t feel right to you, change it, seek the advice of friends, family, a doctor... There are very many support groups available, be it NHS or privately run community groups. Hell, even at your local church! These are all places you can go to meet like-minded people who are going through or have been through a similar situation. Sounds easy right? I think not.

 A friend of mine made a good point about their particular experience of group meetings. Whereas his experience was a positive one and he found that these groups really helped, he also felt due to his working class background, that it was hard to talk about it with work colleagues, associates etc. due the stigma attached. I'm inclined to agree with him. However, I don’t think it is confined to the working classes. It is, I feel, a general almost fear of people who suffer with depression, like it might rub off on you, which of course it won't.

He went to an NHS group and only had good things to say about it. Which of course is not always the case with said organisation. Other people's experience was that you got treated in a matter of fact way and got rushed through as if it was a case of one cure for all. It tickled my interest so I started looking in to the cost of mental health care in the UK. The first thing I came across was an article by Charlie Cooper of the Independent.

I was shocked to read that "There are 3,640 fewer nurses and 213 fewer doctors working in mental health in April this year compared to staffing levels two years ago" (the article was written august 2014) and that funding had been cut by 2.3 per cent. This equates to £253 million! So it is no wonder people's experiences have not all been good. It is, I feel, important to point out that the NHS is not at fault, they have to work within the constraints dictated to them by the government... But that’s a whole new can of worms so I'll leave it there.                                                                                                                
Coincidentally, I'm writing this on the 5th of February, Time To Talk Day! Such things as Time To Talk Day can only be a good thing as it raises public awareness and goes some way to reducing the stigma. We should all get on board with it. Social media should also be put to positive use. I know that there is a certain cynical group who use it as a tool to inflict harm, however the more socially aware of us use it for good. Take the sad passing of Robin Williams for example. I believe he would have been proud to see the amount of people who started writing and talking about their own problems after his death. Would a more open and aware society have prevented his death? Who knows. We must strive to be open, aware and above all sympathetic to our fellow human beings.

As a final word for now on this matter, a good friend came to me after my previous piece was published to say how touched they were to read it and how good it felt to see that they where not alone, that it was good to see that there are ways to get through. To see that other people had been through this before them. They could see that there is light at the end of the tunnel and you don’t have to spend your life in the dark.

It's good to know you're not alone!

The caveat though, is that 'The black dog,' as Deeva so succinctly put it, will always be there for most of us, we just have to find a way to make it behave.

Drake, formerly of another name. Green fingered life enthusiast.

On Depression - Guest Post

This one is from my friend Drake. I haven't known him that long but he is one of the good guys and we watched Massive Attack in a field as the sun went down.

I don't actually agree with the bit about meds but this is his take on it and I am hoping that it provokes discussion and debate.

Here it is!

At some point in our lives we will all experience some form of depression. It might last for minutes or years. The cause of it can stem from virtually anything. I stop short of calling it an illness as that suggests that the person is broken. They are not. 

You may turn to a doctor, who in turn will, in all likelihood turn you to drugs. These anti depressant drugs will probably work for a short time but having spoken to friends who have been prescribed them, it appears they only work in the short term. The equivalent of the Dutch boy sticking his finger in the dyke, it doesn't solve the real issue merely covers it up for a while, sooner or later it will burst through.

I personally believe the best way of dealing with depression is talking about it. The irony of that solution is that a depressed person is unlikely to be the one who makes the first move. 

When you have depression it seems the whole world is against you. Your closest friend can seem like your worst enemy, your brain will make things up about them forcing you further away from them. You retreat into your shell and step away from the world. 

I am fortunate enough to have some incredible friends who noticed when I was going through my own dark time and they did their best to help me out, they showed love towards me and gave me an understanding ear even when I didn't want it. They were, I now realise always there even when I tried to push them away. 

We all have friends no matter what you may think. If you are one of these friends and consider yourself to be a true friend, you should be there if you suspect someone is going through these troubled times. Don't take exception if the person is curt with you or if they appear to not want your help. And don't make the mistake of thinking they just want cheering up, obviously that will help in the short term but what is really needed is for you to try and understand why they are depressed. That and being a constant presence in their life will eventually get through, and hopefully that person will start to open up.

I understand that this will not work for everyone, the person suffering has to try to help themselves as well. So if it's you try and reach out to someone, if they are a true friend they will stop and listen and try and help you. 

There is NO shame in asking for help.

I firmly believe that if you do reach out to people, that it breeds confidence both in you and the person you have reached out to. They will see you as a strong person for being able to do so and the chances are they will then see you as someone they can confide in.

It is tough but with the love and support of friends and family it is definitely achievable.

Drake, formerly of another name. Green fingered life enthusiast.