I am always looking out for new ways to spread mental health awareness and I think fiction is an area I often glaze over. However, I’m starting to see just how beneficial reading fiction can really be. Recently, I was invited to take part in the book tour for ‘The Year I Didn’t Eat’ by Samuel Pollen – my interest was sparked by both the focus on mental health and the fact that the target audience is young teens…
Happy New Year everyone! I thought I’d kick things off on an incredibly predictable note: a list of my goals for the coming year. I felt a need to set the tone for the next 12 months in some way, and this post seemed like a good way to do so. I don’t really set resolutions in January – I’m not sure the pressure is particularly helpful and I find it causes me to feel more negative emotions than positive. I do, however, like to contemplate the general direction I’d like to move in over the coming year in the form of a few vague goals.
Last year, I got a little swept up in a blogging trend in which people outlined 18 goals for 2018; looking back, that seems like a lot of things to hold in mind at any one time. Granted, I did keep most of them small, and many of them related to one another, yet I think the sheer quantity could perhaps have put me off a little. This year, in a pure act of rebellion, I will be listing a number of goals which does not necessarily adhere to the year we happen to be entering, or even a round number that could make for a satisfying blog post title. I know, 2019 already seems to be the year of stretching boundaries…
Hey, you made it through the first term of university! Can we have a pause for applause, please?
Yes, you’ve cried. Yes, you’ve had days when leaving your room took more than a couple of thoughts and deep breaths to achieve. Yes, anxiety hasn’t decided to fully retire to The Bahamas, never to be seen by you again (yet). But you have persisted through these feelings and honestly, they’ve been rather fleeting for the most part. More like occasional-dandruff-to-brush-off-the-shoulders level, a minor inconvenience, rather than taking-a-few-days-out-because-of-flu level.
We all have difficult days, hours and minutes, and when these moments strike the setting we find ourselves in can greatly impact how we process and cope with the situations life throws our way. It is totally natural to crave familiarity in times of distress: when toddlers fall over they scream for a hug from a parent and I think our bedroom environment can act as that comforting figure we all sometimes need. It’s a safe haven, and that’s why it should be helping to boost your positivity.
So here are six changes you can make to your bedroom to nurture your wellbeing…
Spring is a time of growth and fresh starts; if the daffodils have the courage and strength to push their way up into the sunlight after such a long and cold winter then we can at least try too. The sun has been shining the last few days and my mood has definitely taken notice. I have more energy, am finding it easier to get up early and feel like negative things have less impact on me. Oh, and I can actually wear shorts without risking frostbite. So there’s that!
The world is beginning to thaw out a little and people are starting to crack out the barbecues. This weather actually makes me want to get out more and be a little more sociable (I know right, shock horror for an introvert like me) and so this feels like the perfect time to take part in a wonderful collab with a wonderful human being, Mia from Beautiful, Creative, Inspiring Life.
Frustration is a complex emotion. A cocktail of anger and exhaustion; a fiery sedative. When something is just not going right, someone is just not understanding the point, when you can’t quite make something work. It’s scraping past a satisfying conclusion and just missing it; stopping short of the finish line by two inches. It’s an amalgamation of uselessness and pent up energy, like a car full of gas with no wheels. It’s knowing what you want to say to someone, and feeling unable to say it.
Frustration has come to me at many times in my life. Mostly in the form of helpless uselessness, sometimes in relation to anxiety, and these emotions can often be served alongside a scoop of self-hatred and a modest helping of negative thoughts.
I don’t really subscribe to the whole premise of a Valentine’s Day in which the focus is almost entirely on romantic love and capitalist consumerism. In my opinion, love between couples isn’t the only love worth celebrating, and buying expensive stuff isn’t the best symbol of these feelings. For me, 14th February is a day to show appreciation for the people that you care about, in whatever way is significant to them. If this means getting each other lots of material objects, then by all means do that. But I think it’s also important to not lose sight of the value of experiences and time spent together or doing something for them, such as making a special dinner.
In the run up to this day, I often find myself rolling my eyes at the crazy amount of marketing and advertising done by companies all over the place, whether that’s on the high street or online. In a consumer society, it’s hardly surprising that everyone is rushing to cash in on yet another celebration in the year that tells us it’s okay to spend lots of money, and I don’t blame them. That’s how business works. But that doesn’t stop me feeling a little depressed by it all.