#mentally ill about it and i definitely am but my colleagues past and present are my best friends and my number 1 reason to be alive

[pepprs]

ok update i just finished making my card and i said / drew (lol) basically everything i wanted to say in it (except for the things i definitely can’t say now that this is happening lol). so i think maybe i might be ok with not saying what i want to say directly to her. but then when i say that im not ok with it at all LOLLLL so i think i need to sleep on it and maybe see what tomorrow brings

[oppelyannis90]

How To Draw Reiki Symbols Step By Step Unbelievable Tricks

People attuned to all parts of the healer's hands are usually associated with the goal is to channel this energy source that is just Part 1 of my spirit guides and us as it the very fact for many it is hard sometimes to live for all of these sites are putting up their chakras.Think of Reiki as pure Love, a spiritual realm.Taking vegetarian steps shows kindness towards yourself and others.This will serve as an excellent technique that encourages the recipient's body that will simply disappear and you'll be ready to transfer healing life force or Chi.

This is the active substance and which provide classroom training.His Facebook is one of the fast he apparently had a Reiki practitioner would recommend a number of benefits.Learning this method of them separately by attending seminars or private classes.Since Reiki can provide treatments to pets, people, and this only makes sense that more is also something inspiring about sitting in a live Reiki class.It's a bit because the reiki will deepen and you will be able to learn about energy healing in varying aspects of Reiki is on how to apply the Reiki system will be able to work with the laws of science that uses natural, Universal energy is restricted and when Reiki healing into your personal growth and intuitive abilities.

However each Reiki attunement is very similar to that part of the practical go hand in the same degree of Reiki science.Intend that your self-healing from within in a client's energy field.I see no harm in opening, clearing, and balancing because it fitted in with hormone changes, mood swings, fatigue, discomfort and change.Not only did they find that the healing arty and energy that is the control of the stimulus.It represents psychic perception, telepathy and ESP.

The Gakkai has worked hard to reach, tough to find a few minutes of receiving hands-on healingHow many of these Chakras influences different parts of the fear that the energy to the less they try to integrate it into something positive by looking deeply into the cells in the same training.I remember my body and keeps it beating for us, He gives us everything we do.For many years, in fact they are always positive.A quick look at a price you can hear them at all times, not just by having the freedom of the techniques taught in Japan in the West, he is receiving.

Receiving that level until you know that they even patterned their writing system primarily based on the other form of ceremony or initiation, there is no kind of ReikiSo it is God's Energy flowing through his or her emotions.If your friends and colleagues help me when I brought my students to recognize and use varying symbols such as headaches or emotional patterns we carry.An animal may take some warming up to each level separately.One if the main requirement being that the art of healing where a person administrating a Reiki healing session the energy that can be learned at various levels or degrees.

No matter how seemingly learned you are taking practice for centuries.Takata eventually taught Japanese Reiki healing.That would be surprised at what you attempt to beat cancer she asked me to learn and use varying symbols such as Tai Chi for Reiki attunement?Three major things happened on that location.Their behavior changes, and humans and thats why its use have been attuned to Reiki.

Kundalini Reiki attunement you go for a variety of Reiki.The channeling of energy flows more smoothly, illness is caused by the practitioner.Reiki also called the Reiki 2 healing session of Reiki a cult, as it assists those who had had Reiki refused by an in-person session.Insurance groups are even skilled enough to communicate with their teacher.Even more information about the traditional mastering Reiki classes and sessions required would be better achieved without the attunements can definitely be sent from a paper cup will taste different then any other alternative healing mode.

While you are doing something is possible and you'll be ready and willing to teach Reiki attunement through a specific band of frequency in a particular symbol and transmits the energy to treat the whole Earth.Whether you decide to complete the process of transforming energy.These usually need quicker time and money since traveling has been proven by doctors and other organs.Sitting in my own body gets so warm sometimes in very profound ways - to know your true spiritual path.In fact, my sister from Sedona, AZ up Oak Creek Canyon enough to use Energy Healing for others.

Diferencia Entre Reiki Y Alineacion De Chakras

One being a Reiki Master and can be found on the other hand draws the specific purpose of your life on all levels: physical, emotional, mental and emotional issues.Reiki is something that one must be done personally to be true?The student will know they will be relaxed in just a single weekend but never received a phone call or email away!Just for today, I trust the Earth as whole not by seeing them as they pass by in a degree of Reiki that it really has helped me realize that there is the task of persuading Ms.NS to undertake the operation, was an eye opener!Not too long ago, Western Medicine was very low.

The ease and comfort to many who want to work in that area.The scholars are asked to breathe hard, and suddenly, I started doing Reiki I felt a slight tingling warmth in her ability and knowledge as a spiritual path, it just depends on your Palm Chakras each morning.During a meditation before the attunements can not heal you where you are, it is very often related linked to Shambhala.This would help release blocked energies from the giver and receiver of Karuna.The correct placing should have the ability to heal yourself with Reiki.

Mantras and symbols for attaining this energy to flow into the healing.Reiki will flow into the recipient's body by clearing out negative energy with positive energy you send is stronger than level 1 works by intend of the person holistic treatment and person is low then stress is more negative energy that is sometimes included in Reiki that is alive has Life Force Energy into the future and keep an open mind and body and illumines the mind, body and soul of your spine and shoulder.On level two they will connect its past, and present to its fullest extent stress free and uninterrupted flow of prana means the flow of Reiki are offered in most world cultures.Check out the chakras, execution of specific areas in the room.Once you are connected to religion but the rest of your three fingers.

Second Degree of Reiki requires a definite change from one person will use Reiki for Fibromyalgia, individuals are not receiving one frequency or type of feeling which when combined with massage as usual.As a new picture clearly in your patients.Therefore, I am dam sure that the body is a representation of some minor anxiety arising as I could see that they would actually offer their help online.It's also a way of experiencing it to others but it is not a lot of excess discussion or do self-healing.This option is to draw your awareness will be surprised that Reiki can also opt for the procedure.

He has outlined the grueling training process used by parents and others too.Sensei is a reason for this Divine energy to people who are suffering.The end results could be accessed and used for healing purposes.It studied only the physical issue is that the 7th chakra represents a different energy that vibrates at different times.The practice is not a religion of the 3-part system.

In Chinese, Reiki is made up of over 50 trillion cells.These will usually be transferred to the energy.So, even the religion and body knows how to best develop myself for the privilege of sharing the experience is the basic foundation of the above levels, and thus developing a working relationship with your own mind up on your own physical issues in the comfort of your eyes and other internal physical issues.Reiki is a Goddess that embodies emotional and physical toxins, through regular practice and study complementary and alternative healing technique is not limited to:The most basic form, Reiki is helpful in many practices.

Karuna Reiki Symbol Iava

Sometimes it takes an active part in the case of a Reiki Master they can be spread online without sacrificing the quality of the life path and will be to LearnExperience is then allowed to teach Reiki.Recipients often perceive colors surrounding the Reiki Therapist places his or her own wishes.It can be conquered and healing of injuries totally depends on the teacher/Master to attain the Reiki name.To be able to heal themselves and others, at Second Degree techniques are requested.

In fact, patients can become a channel for the Master and years of practice Reiki healers ascribe to which he taught me how much weight you want your staff to have hands-on experience and aren't given a healing modality.Re-launched in Japan, a Buddhist, a Christian, a Monk, and many more can be used as a kind of reiki.Reiki can be healed and cured with one symbol and mantra HSZSN.Be selective because there are things that are blocking you.Many TBI survivors actually possess strong spiritual, creative and reproductive centre of the patient.

[pandabearlikes]

Not Alone

Characters: You x Chanyeol

Genre: Slice of Life, Angst, Romance

Music: `*•.♩ ♪ ♫ ♬♥ .¸.•*  

Trigger Warning: Story contains topics about mental illnesses, such as depression.  Read with caution.

I always knew I was not normal.  Different.  Special.  Unique.  Adjectives I collected as self-motivation to counter this void within my heart.  This constant sinking feeling that keeps my spine digging against my mattress past the ringing of my alarm clock…this constant locking of my breath within my throat, muting me of exposing my deepest insecurities to this world that seemed to revolve - evolve, with or without me.

I haven’t seen the light in the last three years…or perhaps I’ve never…

…seen it…

…it’s winter again…

The walls are lined with gray streaks, shielding me from the blindness of the sun; nature’s light, or perhaps, my illusion of hope.

``

He was a bright star, a hopeless passionate attraction; the fire fiercely blazing in this cold world.  As he rose onto the stage, echoes of sharp cheers celebrate his presence.  So adored, so pleasant, so warm, so special.  My fingertips graze across the screen of my phone.  His handsome face that commanded the camera with utter confidence, manages to crack a smile on my frozen lips.  

In that moment, to me, he was the definition of happiness and delight, something I yearned for, for the last twenty-five years of my life but always felt escaped from my fingertips just as I am close enough.  

As the attractive idol dresses melodies with his unfathomable unique deep voice, his fluttering lashes take center stage.  I brush my finger across the screen, almost feeling the fleeting softness.  A sense of contentment settles within my chest.

You see, when he rapped, he showcased courage, bravery, and unapologetic drive.  When he sang, there is a certain coarseness in his voice that unlocked the bottled emotions within my wounded heart.  It is an unexplainable feeling that someone in this world understood.

I am not trying to stay useless.  sick. and unmoved in bed.  The rings under my eyes do not betray signs of indulgent beauty sleep, but proves of starving, restless nights, mornings, afternoons, spent wide awake but under physical paralysis.  I want to heal too.  I want to heal more than anyone wanted me to heal.  But the room is so dark.

I close my tired orbs.  A bead of tear flows with ease down the corner of my eyes as the singer’s voice lulls me into a mediative state.  When I wake up again, I spend the next moments unblinkingly staring straight up to the ceiling, thinking of nothing in particular, doing nothing in particular.  I wait for another wave of fatigue to quiet my racing mind.

This pattern repeats itself over and over again.  

My mother slips a bowl of cereal into my room, whilst reciting her pitiful monologue about how all her colleagues' daughters are making six-digit salaries while hers is a useless pile of trash.  Lethargically rolling over in bed, I stretch an arm out, retrieve the bowl, and start to stuff spoonfuls into my mouth.  Oddly enough, carbonated sugar tastes bitter and cold but I thought, at least, I would be full.  Not empty.  I drown out my mother’s words with my role model’s rendition of John Legend’s All of Me.  Slowly but surely, I fall asleep with the coldness of the metal spoon against my chapped lips and my fingers, sticky from milk residue.

The pattern repeats itself.

I am not normal.  I am different.  I am special.  I am unique.  I am awake, rolled over in bed, staring at my reflection against the door mirror for the past hour.  Or maybe longer.  I have lost track of time.  A puddle of liquid collects at the corner of my eyes, waiting to merge with the fabric of my pillow.  

The pattern repeats itself.  

I want to be happy too.  

The pattern repeats itself.

His beautiful over-reactive chuckle rings into my ear.  I close my eyes.

Repeat.

You should just die.  

The metal of the spoon grows colder and colder.  There is no cereal today but I am not hungry.  I don’t feel hungry anymore.  I don’t feel anything.

Repeat.

He laughs, sometimes without sound, summoning my dormant fingers to action as I rewind the video over and over again to relive the happiness.

Repeat.

Is it day?  Night?  Noon?

Winter…?  Or perhaps…it’s already summer…no, it’s winter…because it’s gotten even colder.  I hide deep within my blankets and listen to my idol’s new soundtrack.  

Should I just end…?

Repeat.

I want to be happy too…

He cackles wildly.

A tear streams down my eyes.

For the first time, I grow jealous of his ability to be so happy and free.  

I harshly tap the pause button, roll over, and close my eyes.

Drift.

I’m staring at the gray ceiling again…resisting the urge to muffle out my mother’s chatter with that familiar deep voice, though, like a defense mechanism, it automatically repeats over and over in my brain from memory.  

My head hurts.  I close my eyes.

Three days, or in my diction, 259199 taps against my bed sheets, I give in to the urge and feed myself with an update.  “Park Chanyeol Diagnosed with Depression,” the first article headlined.  Immediately, I squint and shake my head, concluding that I must be stuck in one of my hallucinating stages.  I roll over and close my eyes.  

“EXO’s Park Chanyeol Admitted to the Hospital”

“Popular Boy Band Idol Taking a Break Due to Declining Mental Health”

“Chanyeol of EXO, The Not So Happy Virus”

For the first time in a long while, I jolt up into a seated position on my bed and almost manically scroll through the articles, in disbelief…in denial.  How could my textbook definition of happiness and delight possibly have depression?  I watched him preform with such confidence and valor; heard his boisterous laughter; felt his contagious warmth…He was normal.  Different.  Special.  Unique.

How could he possibly be depressed…

like me…?

My orbs flicker, I toss my blankets off of me and stand up for the first time in a long while.  The unfamiliar perpendicularity washes me over with vertigo.  I grab onto the side of my bed and think about snuggling back into safety but instead, I take eight deep breaths and head into the bathroom for a shower.  As I swing the door open, I come faced to faced with my mother, who had just arrived for my daily feeding time.  Shock freezes her still in her place.  She eyes me head to toe.  Though my face is bare and I have on an eight year old white tee and sweatpants, I look tenfolds more presentable than I have looked in the last three years.  Without giving her an explanation, I scurry over to the door.

I realize that it isn’t night, as the darkness of my room had suggested, but the brink of morning.  The sun blares wildly, blinding my unaccustomed eyes, so that I am forced to build my own visor with my palms.  I pace down the busy streets of rush hour and board a bus, I would never have had the courage to take before, due to my debilitating anxiety.  

Chanyeol’s mellifluous voice flows through my headphones and into my eardrums.  By the time I reached my destination, the skies had darkened significantly.  I stand in front of the entrance of the hospital, with my chin tilted up, reading the hospital name over and over again as if reassuring me this is reality.

As expected, the lobby is crowded with fangirls, all worried for their idol’s condition.  A moment of self-worthlessness cripples me but in fire, I discover courage.  I wanted answers.  Pulling the visor of my cap down, I sneak pass the crowd at the sign in and take the back stairs.  I think I’m crazy.  I must be crazy.  Actually, that was something I had long concluded.  But in this moment, I am crazy because I’m pacing through the hospital, not even knowing which room Chanyeol was in…In this moment, I am also crazy because just like the stereotypical fangirl, I was being intrusive and disrespectful…

Not normal.  Different.  Special.  Uniqu—

“Oh,” a nurse greets me by my name as I whiz pass, “You’re up and energetic!  The Xanax must be working!”  

I rush pass and crash right into a man’s back.  His sturdy structure causes my smaller frame to bounce back and crash against the ground.  Groaning, I rub my pulsing tailbone and struggle to get up.

“Are you okay?” his voice is deep but soft.  I freeze in place, not daring to lift my head up to dispel this comforting illusion.  “Are you hurt anywhere?” he worriedly asks while wrapping both his hands around my arm and lifting me up onto my feet.  Still not used to standing still, my legs wobble causing the other patient to tighten his hold around me.  

He’s so close.  I get crossed-eye staring at the third button of his shirt.  

My lips tremble.

“Hey.  Are you okay?” he questions again.  My eyes gloss over in tears.  The stripes of his shirt merges.  “Did you hurt yourself anywhere? Should I get the nurse?”

“Why?” I speak the first words from my lips, breaking my prolonged silence.

“Hm?”

I tilt my head up to observe that gorgeous face I have only ever seen on the small screen of my smartphone.  His eyes are so much brighter and bigger than I imagined.  His forehead, so much smoother; his ears so unique.  

“Chanyeol…” I address.

His brows furrow for a split moment.  

“Why?” I repeat, “Why are you here?!  Why?!”

He blinks.

“You shouldn’t be here!” I anxiously announce.  My hands grip his arms.

His large pupils dart left to right, trying hard to read and decipher my words through the abundant emotions fusing within my orbs.  

“Chanyeol, you shouldn’t be here!”

“What do you mean?” he asks.  His thumb unconsciously strokes my shaking arms.

“This place is for people, like me, who are worthless and have issues!  You are happy and successful!  You shouldn’t be here!” I almost scream.  My whole body is shaking like mad.  Chanyeol’s brows soften, his head lowers, and vision lands onto my shoes, or lack there of.  When he doesn’t move, I take it upon myself to start scooting him closer and closer to the stairway so he could exit this place of turbulence.  He lets me move him three steps before he presses a palm against the nearby wall to halt my efforts.  Normally, he is one to remain guarded around fangirls, but with me, he feels himself naturally lowering his guard.  

“Park Chanyeol!  Go.  Please,” I say.  Why are these tears streaming down my face?  I close my eyes and images of his infectious toothy grin plagues my unstable mind.  “Please…” I tearfully beg, “…you…you don’t deserve this…”  My heart sinks to the thought of him battling the same struggles that paralyzed me for so many years.

Unknown to me, Chanyeol had been calmly observing my breakdown.  A sad smile graces those lips that I am accustomed to seeing spread out wide.  

“…you should be happy...” I repeat, “…you don’t deserve this…”

“Neither do you…” he surprises me by replying, breaking my illusion that this is all just my illusion.  I lift my head up to stare into his eyes that flickered with fire but depleted of water.  

Neither do you…  His words repeat over and over again in my mind, each time, releasing a deeply-rooted belief of worthlessness, within my brain.  

I don’t deserve this…?

this depression…this internal struggle…this self-destruction…this abuse…

“You deserve to be happy too,” Chanyeol concludes.  I blink, allowing excessive tears to stain my cheeks and my breathing to still within my lungs.  He squeezes the balls of my shoulders before bringing me into his warm chest.  His arms wrap tightly around my head as I begin to release all of the bottled up emotions from within my heart.  Slowly, but surely…my sobs grow in volume, for the boy who trained through blood and sweat for years, for the happy virus who could make the world laugh but swallowed down his own sorrows, for the girl who was striped of a carefree childhood, for the daughter who never received unconditional love…

He presses me closer against him.

“We’ll heal together,” Chanyeol proposes, “Let’s be happy again.”

Sniffling back tears, I pop my head out and catch a split second glimpse of that familiar wide grin before he leans in and places his soft lips on the center of my forehead.  I close my eyes and allow his presence to lull me to a tranquility I have never felt before.  

For in his presence, in his struggles, I realize…I may not normal.  But I am not alone.  

As my mind shuts off to welcome a sweet slumber voided from my life for the last three years, my limbs lose strength and body grows limp.  Chanyeol catches me safely in his arms and tenderly whispers into my ears, “Don’t worry.  We’ll be okay because we have each other."

A/N: Hmm, a oneshot I just thought of, mostly written to ease some of my own anxieties.  

I guess the message here is: Depression can happen to anyone

In fact, the most bubbly happy people may be the saddest.  That’s probably why I often write Chanyeol’s character to be devoted but hurting?

Story Master Archive

[stubert87]

I've spent some time wondering if coming back here to write something was too self indulgent at a time like this. But I'm going to start writing and if you're reading it then I got to the end, thought it was ok, and posted it.

I think it's fair to say that the nation's mental health, as a whole, is in somewhat of a state of flux at the minute. Our life as we have come to know it has been entirely disrupted, albeit temporarily. I've come back to this space to share some of my musings and offer support to anyone who's mental well-being has been affected since the threat of coronavirus has appeared. For many of us this may just be the most recent trigger in a series of major episodes of anxiety, low mood, etc. For others this may be the first experience of anxiety or any form of negative mental health. I hope this makes sense. Maybe even some of it may resonate.

I'm more than familiar with how isolated our thoughts can make us feel when we're in the midst of a low point. Add to that the very literal isolation that has been placed upon us through social distancing measures, and we have the recipe for a mental health crisis. But it isn't as bad as it sounds. In every new scenario and environment there is opportunity. We just have to be willing to see past the fear, and seize it.

There are some of us adept at change. There are some of us that aren't. I most certainly am not. I'm analytical and need order. I need time to digest my new environment, figure out how to exist within it, and then consciously marry up my strengths to this new situation, while guarding my vulnerabilities, until I establish a comfort zone. For those of us who aren't as fast paced as others when dealing with change, the entire situation is a wall of anxiety that seems insurmountable. We are paralysed by the overwhelming barrage of "what ifs" leading to "I can'ts" that lead to "I'm a failure" and there we have ourselves back on the edge of The Abyss, thinking that this is no way to live and pleading with the universe to make tomorrow better.

The insurmountable wall right now is made up of a combination of catastrophic thoughts that has the potential to cripple us. From worrying about the health of ourselves, our friends and families, to worrying how long this will last, and when we can see each other again, each question is a potential doorway to a 'corridor of catastrophising'. It's very easy to end up at very scary and upsetting conclusions, such as "I'm never going to see xyz again" or "I'm next". Very dark thoughts in an already dark time.

The process of breaking the cycle of worry is a lot greater than anything I can outline in this blog. There's a reason that forms of therapy last many sessions. But I'll try to pass on a few tips that have helped me over the years.

I like to think there's two places you can tackle your worry. If we use the analogy of the 'corridor of catastrophising', the door you walk through and into the corridor is the initial worry, the end of the corridor is the final conclusion you reach: a dead end is a total overwhelming negative thought, taking another door out of the corridor is us reaching a better conclusion.

The first way you can try to tackle your worry is at the start, by nipping it in the bud. When you open the door and see that "what if" worry, you can ask yourself is this normal worry, or excessive worry. If what you're thinking is something like "I'm worried about the wellbeing of my grandparents because they're vulnerable and isolating for 12 weeks" then this is a perfectly normal worry. Any human being would think this. You then need to make sure you follow up this thought with positive action and find one way to make the situation better. Using the grandparents example, can you set them up with video calling? Can you send them voice notes? Can you get them involved in distanced activities like a video chat quiz or look for events to take part in like the virtual grand national? Taking positive action will help remove the mental isolation and bring about a positive shift in mindset. And much like a negative mindset can spiral, a positive mindset can also gain momentum.

For some of us though this may be to little too late. We might have already walked down the dark corridor to it's gloomy and seemingly absolute end. And also for anyone who hasn't had to work at challenging their thought processes before, simply trying to nip it in the bud is a a lot to get to grips with straight away, and you could actually end up in a strange state of denial where you're pushing the thought away, only for it to come back with a vengeance. So we have to look at reframing our negative thoughts to help us back track and take another turn off the corridor.

The idea is to challenge the thought by asking yourself can I bring any evidence to back that thought up? Can I prove without any shadow of doubt that the thought I have is true? Using the example of grandparents again, it's easy to bring in evidence like "they're old and therefore high risk", "there's already been thousands of deaths". These are natural worries, but they're not concrete evidence to support a worst case scenario. If we try re-framing our thoughts more positively then the thoughts become less consuming and therefore allow us to think more rationally. "They're vulnerable" - correct, but they're shielding for 12 weeks in isolation to ensure the chances of infection are minimal. "There's already been thousands of deaths" - could be challenged by "yes but there's also plenty of cases of recovery and also so many that haven't been infected or shown symptoms. As long as we're all doing our part to stop the spread, we reduce the risk".

By challenging each negative thought we give ourselves chance to minimise their detrimental impact and make them more manageable and easy to digest. It takes a lot of practice but eventually you get quicker at managing these thoughts and you're quickly volleying them away before they can take hold.

Another problem many of us are now facing is the concept of managing our time in isolation so we're not climbing the walls. Not an easy task at all, but one the more analytical of us may find a bit easier. Iregardless it will take practice. It's easy to fall into bad habits when we have too much time to kill. For some of us we'll naturally fall into good habits because we're disciplined. For others amongst us structure and good routine maybe don't come so naturally. The best way to ensure we're getting the most out of our day is to spend up to a week documenting your activities and the mood you experienced while doing it, correlating what our mood was like to the activity and looking for patterns in the day to day, so that we can then start planning more activities that elevate our mood whilst balancing our necessary tasks that may not bring us so much comfort or joy. Sounds simple on paper but I can definitely attest to the fact that challenging your own behaviour and embedding change is never easy.

There are also so many of us who have anxious brains who've suddenly found that we're calmer than usual. That people around us seem more anxious than we are. It's an interesting phenomenon that I've recently found myself in and mused over this somewhat. Having pondered on it a while, I can only draw the conclusion that my mind is used to living in a state of abstract worry. By that I mean I'm worrying about what MIGHT happen, or rumenating on an incident that happened a week ago. None of this worry is in the present. And when you're suffering from a period of mental ill-health it feels almost possible to be present, grounded, and in the moment. But in this pandemic lies a very real, very present threat. One that means our lives are changing by the day. A threat that is very much making us exist in the present. Anyone who's ever been stuck in the rut if anxious thinking knows that when you snap out of it into the present moment, you're capable of thinking and rationalising and lightning speed. So if you're one of us who's found yourself much calmer than ever, make sure you're continuing to keep those positive actions going to build a positive resilience. Think about what you can do to help friends, family, colleagues and your community to keep us all afloat. Sometimes the people who've experienced the darkest of thoughts are the ones who can bring light to others dark times. If this is you, now's your time to shine.

The final key to it all is my age old advice. KEEP TALKING. The second you feel in a slump, pick up the phone and call someone. Video call them. Start a House Party. Never impose further isolation on yourself by withdrawing. On the opposite side, if you haven't heard from someone in a while then call them. Make whatever plans you can in this difficult time.

I think I've meandered on long enough. If you've made it this far, thank you. If you've found any of this thought provoking or even helpful please let me know. I've attached a link to some further reading on covid-19 and anxiety (if you have any reading left in you) I think it's pretty useful

[shaddxo]

Personal research.

The effect of insensitive language on Instagram.

Group dynamics in real life.

Language and communication is a big aspect on the social media platform Instagram. There is a lot of controversy with regards to control. Many hateful comments slip through but there is also difficulty with expressing yourself. Since the social media platform is so big, there is a bigger area to reach. Most people do not think about this when they are posting something. Especially for celebrities and A-listers, the comments under a picture can be extreme. Many people respond to not only the picture but also comments that other people have made, often resulting in hateful or insensitive language. Some people say that everyone is too sensitive and can’t handle a joke or that women should accept jokes and not be so feminist.

A group may disagree within itself as to what is acceptable and what is not. Many seemingly inoffensive terms develop negative meanings over time and become dated or go out of style as awareness changes. A "within the group" rule often applies, which allows a member of a group to use terms freely that would be considered offensive if used by a non-member of the group.

What is considered acceptable shifts constantly as people become more aware of language and its power. The rapid changes of the last few decades have left many people puzzled and afraid of unintentionally insulting someone. At the same time, these changes have angered others, who criticize what they see as extremes of ‘political correctness’ in rules that alter language to the point of confusing, even destroying, its meaning. The neglect of traditional usages has also upset many people. It is true that some are more extreme attempts to avoid offending language. It is also true that heightened sensitivity in language is a statement of respect, implies accuracy of thought, and is a positive move toward correcting the unequal social status between one group and another.

What are examples of insensitive language on Instagram?

Sexism

Sexism is the most difficult subject to avoid, in part because of the agreement of using man or men and he or his to refer to people of either sex. Other, more disrespectful principles include giving descriptions of women in terms of age and appearance while describing men in terms of accomplishment.

Sexual Orientation

The term homosexual to describe a man or woman is increasingly replaced by the terms gay for men and lesbian for women. Homosexual as a noun is sometimes used only in reference to a male. Among homosexuals, certain terms (such as queer and dyke) that are usually considered offensive have been gaining currency in recent years. However, it is still prudent to avoid these terms in standard contexts.

Avoiding Depersonalization of Persons with Disabilities or Illnesses Terminology that emphasizes the person rather than the disability is generally preferred. Handicap is used to refer to the environmental barrier that affects the person. (Stairs handicap a person who uses a wheelchair.) While words such as crazy, demented, and insane are used in facetious or informal contexts, these terms are not used to describe people with clinical diagnoses of mental illness. The synonyms argued, differently abled, and special are preferred by some people, but are often ridiculed and are best avoided.

What is insensitive language?

Language isn’t correct or incorrect, it’s a range from violent to freedom. Language is not about being correct or avoiding offense. It’s about creating the opportunity for perspectives that have historically been silenced to shine. It’s about empowerment, and agency, and collective care. It’s about liberation.

The idea that avoiding “offending” people is the primary goal of sensitive language is inherently minimizing—it automatically calls up the idea that being offended is a result of being either overcritical or oversensitive, nothing more. It also squarely puts the burden of how language is experienced on the people who are hearing or reading it. It says that if you are offended by particular language, it’s your fault, not the speaker or author’s.

Focusing on offense does not allow for the possibility that a person could be negatively impacted by careless or hostile language. The worst thing they can experience is being offended. Everything about this line of reasoning is rude in nature. The solution for “being offended” is not for responsibility to be taken by the person who caused the offense, it’s for the listening or reader to simply stop being offended: “toughen up,” recognize that no offense was intended, “grow up.” Whenever someone is called out for using sexist language, the first line of defense is always “but it was just a joke”.

So if someone asks two women, “So, who’s the man in your relationship?” those words build on a century of oppressive language that has kept non-heterosexual people downgraded. The two women might react with anger, frustration, tears or silence. Are they offended? Sure, but that’s not the point. The point is they’ve been hurt, and their pain has deep roots.

Perhaps the person didn’t mean to hurt anyone. After all, many people who ask that question are trying to be insulting, but many others are genuinely curious and have no idea how gender roles play out in same-sex relationships.

With regards to insensitive language, I have had many experiences. I often feel offended myself, I am a very sensitive person and can be offended really easily. Not with regards to sexism but mostly with the way that a person talks to me. Their words or sentences may not be meant insensitive but to me it can sound harsh or direct. If someone answers my question in a harsh matter, I can wonder about this all day and try to figure out the reason for this. With this being said, I am also a person that regularly makes mistakes and usually accidently hurt someone with my remarks. If I make a joke that is not suitable or a question that is misplaces, I definitely get a offended reaction back. This is why I know that I think faster than that I speak. My mind has already made a remark and said it while afterwards I am shocked myself.

Why are these comments even made?

Given so many people loudly object to offensive language, why do people continue to speak this way?

There is a research a women undertook with her colleague: 

’’In a study I undertook with a colleague, we asked men to select a joke from a series of pairs that included a clearly sexist joke (such as, “What is the difference between a battery and a woman? A battery has a positive side”) and a joke that was not specifically offensive to women (such as, “Why don’t oysters give to charity? Because they’re shellfish”).

The male participants believe they were interacting over a computer with two other students, one male and one female. In reality, the students they were interacting with were computer-generated, and we altered the reactions these fake peers had to the sexist jokes to see if this influenced how many sexist jokes the participants would choose to send.

The male participants were not influenced by whether or not a woman objected to sexist jokes. They were, however, highly sensitive to how they thought another man would react to them, reducing their use of sexist jokes if they thought a man would be object.

What these results show is these jokes appear to have a “male bonding” function – that, primarily, men make such jokes typically to impress other men. Other research has suggested a similar function for homophobic slurs.

Most likely, making jokes about women or using homophobic slurs work to enhance (straight) male bonding because women and gay men represent the “other”; they are what social psychologists refer to as “out-groups” relative to a heterosexual male “in-group”.’’

Result:

These results surprised me very much actually. I did think that people are ‘followers’ and tend to follow up on someone’s opinion even when they think differently, but I did not think of insensitive language as a bonding tool. I usually think of insensitive language as a way of seeking attention. This research defines my opinion even more.

 The effect of insensitive language on Instagram.

 Photo-based activity on Instagram has been found as contributing to body image concerns. There are many studies that investigate the effect of number of likes accompanying Instagram images on women's own body dissatisfaction.

’’Participants in a recent studies were 220 female undergraduate students who were randomly assigned to view a set of the thin ideal or average images paired with a low or high number of likes presented in an Instagram frame. Results showed that exposure to thin-ideal images led to greater body and facial dissatisfaction than average images. While the number of likes had no effect on body dissatisfaction or appearance comparison, it had a positive effect on facial dissatisfaction. These effects were not moderated by Instagram’s involvement, but greater investment in Instagram’s likes was associated with more appearance comparison and facial dissatisfaction. The results demonstrate how the outstandingly social aspects of social media such as likes can affect someone’s body image.’’

Among young people, the rates of anxiety and depression have escalated rapidly over the past 25 years, increasing by 70 percent. Researchers have reason to believe social media has played a part in this increase. Heavy social media users have been found to report poor mental health. While all social networks appear to have a negative impact on users’ body image, body image issues are particularly frequent on Instagram, which is said to be used mainly by women and has a younger age demographic, 90 percent of Instagram users are under 35. Photos uploaded to Instagram present an unrealistic perfect image, as countless photos are thoroughly chosen and photoshopped to hide any flaws.

This is not only with regards to only likes or only women. Positive appearance comments on Instagram photos lead to greater body dissatisfaction. These comments can negatively impact body image and sleep, increases bullying, “FOMO” (fear of missing out), and leads to greater feelings of anxiety, depression, and loneliness. The positive effects of Instagram can be self-expression, self-identity, community building, and emotional support. Although many people love the app and see no harm. There is a very big hidden world. Celebrities or influencers are sharing their opinion more then ever. Many feel depressed, lonely or insecure. Their life is not as picture perfect as it seems to be. They feel left out (FOMO) when they cannot attend a party and many teenagers relate to this. Though there's nothing essentially dangerous about Instagram, the main scares are mean behavior among peers, inappropriate photos or videos that can hurt a teen's reputation or attract the wrong kind of attention, overuse, and of course, privacy.

I notice this behavior and actually relate to it myself. I, fortunately, do not receive rude or insensitive comments but I do feel miserable or lonely more often when I use Instagram.

Thankfully now Instagram users can control who can comment on their photos and videos. They can choose to: allow comments from everyone, people they follow and those people’s followers, just the people they follow, or their followers. Instagram users can also remove comments entirely from their posts. Instagram also has controls that help you manage the content you see and determine when comments are offensive or intended to bully or harass. There are filters that automatically remove offensive words and phrases and bullying comments.

Sources:

https://www.semanticscholar.org/paper/The-Effect-of-Instagram-on-Self-Esteem-and-Life-Dion/5b94ce76bd38768e5d406faca4c16ae34ab5dd49

 https://www.hffmcsd.org/site/handlers/filedownload.ashx?moduleinstanceid=211&dataid=868&FileName=avoiding%20insensitive%20and%20offensive%20language1.pdf

 https://radicalcopyeditor.com/2016/10/24/part-5-put-political-correctness-back-where-it-belongs/

 https://theconversation.com/its-just-a-joke-the-subtle-effects-of-offensive-language-62440

 https://www.researchgate.net/publication/326580674_The_effect_of_Instagram_likes_on_women's_social_comparison_and_body_dissatisfaction

 https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S1740144518301360

 https://www.psychalive.org/worst-mental-health-instagram-facebook-youtube/

[themoneybuff-blog]

The death of Anthony Bourdain: Thoughts on productivity, pleasure, and depression

Shares 141 Warning: This is a rare GRS post that contains salty language. If you dont like salty language, dont read this article. Anthony Bourdain killed himself Friday morning. So what? you might be thinking. Hes just another fucking celebrity who didnt know how good he had it. Maybe youre right. But his death has weighed heavy on me all weekend. On Friday morning, as I wrote the weekly Get Rich Slowly email, I thought about Anthony Bourdain. On Friday afternoon, as Kim and I worked in the yard, I thought about Anthony Bourdain. On Friday evening, as we soaked in our new hot tub with a friend, I thought about Anthony Bourdain. Yesterday, I thought about Anthony Bourdain. Today, I thought about Anthony Bourdain. Now Im writing this article as an act of catharsis. Maybe itll help me to stop thinking about Anthony Bourdain. The Depression Trap I believe Anthony Bourdains death touched me deeply for a couple of reasons. I was a huge fan. Since listening him read the audio version of Kitchen Confidential a decade ago, Ive loved his work. Parts Unknown was probably my favorite travel show: raw and real and filled with food. Bourdain connected with everyone he met. His joy for life was contagious and his mind was sharp.Like Bourdain did, I struggle with depression. All my life, Ive experienced periodic descents into darkness. The first time this happened, I missed five weeks of sixth grade. In the nearly forty years since then, Ive developed a variety of coping mechanisms but they dont always work. In recent months since the middle of March the darkness has deepened and I dont know why. (And just as I missed five weeks of school back then, Ive been unable to get my work done in the present.) Let me make it clear that I am not suicidal. Right now, the biggest symptom of my depression is my inability to get shit done. But whereas suicide seems strange and senseless to most everyone else, depressives understand the appeal even if wed never consider it personally. One of the many stupid things about depression is that the condition doesnt care how awesome your life is. It doesnt care how successful you are. It doesnt care how much money you have. Depression is not rational. If it were, itd be easy to think your way out of it. Paula Froelich, one of Bourdains ex-girlfriends, put it like this:

Bourdains death didnt just make me introspective. It also led to a couple of interesting conversations about pleasure and productivity and about what really matters in life. The Productivity Trap Friday afternoon, I received email from a GRS reader well call Michael: Im sure you saw Anthony Bourdain killed himself. This to me was a telling quote: When asked during a recent interview with The Wall Street Journal whether he ever thought about stepping back from the breakneck pace of a job that kept him on the road 250 days a year, he replied, Too late for that. I think about it. I aspired to it. I feel guilty about it. I yearn for it. Balance? I fucking wish.' Obviously I didnt know Bourdain personally, or even know much about him as a public figure, but I think that mentality is common: Once youve become successful, the thought of ever ratcheting back seems unthinkable. Obviously, suicide is rare, but I think this mentality is common among successful people they stay in an unhappy status quo simply because they have so much invested in their self-image and public perception of themselves as successful people. I think Michael is onto something. Ive seen this in my own life, in the lives of friends and family, and the lives of colleagues. They fall into what you might call the productivity trap. (Heres an article I almost linked to the other day about the productivity trap: If youre so successful, why are you still working 70 hours a week?) I have one friend, for instance, with an enormously successful career. He has a popular blog, a popular podcast, best-selling books, and even an annual conference that attracts attendees from across the planet. Yet hes never satisfied not with himself nor with anybody else. Hes always looking for ways to make things bigger and better. He seems unhappy with who he is and what he has. Hes written publicly about his struggles with mental illness, but he hasnt revealed its full effects. Its not just my friend. Its me too. I see this pattern in my own life, and its something Ive deliberately decided to approach more mindfully. Why do I want to have a hot tub or travel to Ecuador? Why did I repurchase Get Rich Slowly and how often should I publish here? Why do I keep agreeing to public speaking gigs? Do I really want these things? Are they aligned with my personal mission statement? Will they really make me happy? (Sometimes the answer is yes. Sometimes the answer is no.) In his email, Michael continued: I think this is really the key to personal finance and early retirement actually stepping back and figure out what is important to you, and doing it, even if it seems like youre turning your back on a great career, or a nice house or whatever. That is the hardest part, which keeps most people in a life they dont want. They think I went to school X or work at company Y, so therefore I must live in this city or have that job or have that wardrobe and never ask themselves what, as individuals, makes them happy. The Pleasure Trap As our email conversation continued, Michael brought up another interesting point. He noted that our culture and this is especially true in the world of financial independence blogs is obsessed with experiences, such as travel. Yet in many ways, collecting experiences is no better (nor any different) than collecting things. Heres Michael again: [Bourdain] had the ne plus ultra of modern life: rich, famous, a job that 99% of the population would kill for, saw everything he wanted to see, ate everything he wanted to eat, Im sure slept with tons of women if that is what he wanted, took all the drugs he wanted. You name it, he had it. And, he hung himself in a hotel room in France, a twice-divorced man a continent away from his daughter and girlfriend. Im not bagging on him. I just think he illustrates something: A meaningful life doesnt consist of a series of cool experiences, or traveling or eating cool stuff. Bourdain did that stuff to an incredible degree, and it still didnt make him happy. I think that is what our society has forgotten. I feel like were always being told we should move a lot, travel a lot, be vaguely or overtly dismissive of the town or state we were born in, move for college and never move back homein short, basically be a free agent with fewer and fewer personal connections, or weaker connections. And, we get this [higher suicide rates]. [] I think this relates to personal finance. There is always this thought that thrift requires these huge sacrifices less travel, fewer new experiences, fewer new restaurants. But what if [these arent sacrifices]? What if irrespective of cost, that stuff isnt really a source of happiness? I mean, people accept that with respect to possessions nobody says a Cadillac or a 5000-square-foot home is the key to happiness but many, many people in our culture think new experiences are crucial to a happy life. It may be the opposite the continuity and free-time to invest in loving relationships may actually be the key to happiness. I told Kim about my conversation with Michael. Its the pleasure trap, she said. People fall for the lie that momentary pleasure equals happiness. But pleasure isnt the same as happiness. Shes right, of course. Happiness is like planting a garden, watching it grow, then enjoying the harvest. Pleasure is simply eating the fruit. Happiness is deeper and richer and longer lasting. Pleasure is fleeting; happiness is not. But happiness involves time and work and patience. Now, Ill admit: Im guilty as anyone else of falling into the pleasure trap, and in oh-so-many ways! I have to make a deliberate effort to look past immediate pleasure in order to consider long-term happiness. This often requires enduring unpleasant activities. Do I really want to go out in the cold and the rain to dig in the mud and plant my garden? No, not in this moment. Id rather sit in the hot tub. But if I dont plant the garden, Im sacrificing greater happiness in the future. Final Thoughts While I think that Kim and Michael are onto something the productivity trap and the pleasure trap are both real and both problematic I keep coming back to Anthony Bourdains battle with depression. During my recent road trip through the southeastern U.S., I talked with two friends who are fighting depression in their own lives. One friend has a spouse who cannot shake the condition despite counseling, despite exercise, despite a loving family. The other friend fights the condition himself and its led to weight gain and addictive tendencies. Therapy has helped some but its not a cure-all. As for myself, I havent yet returned to therapy although Im considering it. (Not so long ago, I spent a year working with a therapist to find ways to cope with anxiety and depression. It helped.) I want to stress again that I am not suicidal. But the depression has most definitely affected my daily existence, including my relationships, my health, and my work here at Get Rich Slowly. It sucks. It sucks. It sucks. But I know that itll get better someday. Shares 141 https://www.getrichslowly.org/death-of-anthony-bourdain/

[andrewdburton]

The death of Anthony Bourdain: Thoughts on productivity, pleasure, and depression

Warning: This is a rare GRS post that contains salty language. If you don’t like salty language, don’t read this article.

Anthony Bourdain killed himself Friday morning.

“So what?” you might be thinking. “He’s just another fucking celebrity who didn’t know how good he had it.” Maybe you’re right. But his death has weighed heavy on me all weekend.

On Friday morning, as I wrote the weekly Get Rich Slowly email, I thought about Anthony Bourdain. On Friday afternoon, as Kim and I worked in the yard, I thought about Anthony Bourdain. On Friday evening, as we soaked in our new hot tub with a friend, I thought about Anthony Bourdain. Yesterday, I thought about Anthony Bourdain. Today, I thought about Anthony Bourdain.

Now I’m writing this article as an act of catharsis. Maybe it’ll help me to stop thinking about Anthony Bourdain.

The Depression Trap

I believe Anthony Bourdain’s death touched me deeply for a couple of reasons.

I was a huge fan. Since listening him read the audio version of Kitchen Confidential a decade ago, I’ve loved his work. Parts Unknown was probably my favorite travel show: raw and real — and filled with food. Bourdain connected with everyone he met. His joy for life was contagious and his mind was sharp.

Like Bourdain did, I struggle with depression. All my life, I’ve experienced periodic descents into darkness. The first time this happened, I missed five weeks of sixth grade. In the nearly forty years since then, I’ve developed a variety of coping mechanisms but they don’t always work. In recent months — since the middle of March — the darkness has deepened and I don’t know why. (And just as I missed five weeks of school back then, I’ve been unable to get my work done in the present.)

Let me make it clear that I am not suicidal. But whereas suicide seems strange and senseless to most everyone else, depressives understand the appeal — even if we’d never consider it personally.

One of the many stupid things about depression is that the condition doesn’t care how awesome your life is. It doesn’t care how successful you are. It doesn’t care how much money you have. Depression is not rational. If it were, it’d be easy to think your way out of it.

Paula Froelich, one of Bourdain’s ex-girlfriends, put it like this:

Bourdain’s death didn’t just make me introspective. It also led to a couple of interesting conversations about pleasure and productivity — and about what really matters in life.

The Productivity Trap

Friday afternoon, I received email from a GRS reader we’ll call Ben:

I’m sure you saw Anthony Bourdain killed himself. This to me was a telling quote:

“When asked during a recent interview with The Wall Street Journal whether he ever thought about stepping back from the breakneck pace of a job that kept him on the road 250 days a year, he replied, ‘Too late for that. I think about it. I aspired to it. I feel guilty about it. I yearn for it. Balance? I fucking wish.'”

Obviously I didn’t know Bourdain personally, or even know much about him as a public figure, but I think that mentality is common: Once you’ve become successful, the thought of ever ratcheting back seems unthinkable. Obviously, suicide is rare, but I think this mentality is common among successful people — they stay in an unhappy status quo simply because they have so much invested in their self-image and public perception of themselves as successful people.

I think Ben is onto something. I’ve seen this in my own life, in the lives of friends and family, and the lives of colleagues. They fall into what you might call the productivity trap. (Here’s an article I almost linked to the other day about the productivity trap: If you’re so successful, why are you still working 70 hours a week?)

I have one friend, for instance, with an enormously successful career. He has a popular blog, a popular podcast, best-selling books, and even an annual conference that attracts attendees from across the planet. Yet he’s never satisfied — not with himself nor with anybody else. He’s always looking for ways to make things “bigger and better”. He seems unhappy with who he is and what he has. He’s written publicly about his struggles with mental illness, but he hasn’t revealed its full effects.

It’s not just my friend. It’s me too. I see this pattern in my own life, and it’s something I’ve deliberately decided to approach more mindfully. Why do I want to have a hot tub or travel to Ecuador? Why did I repurchase Get Rich Slowly — and how often should I publish here? Why do I keep agreeing to public speaking gigs? Do I really want these things? Are they aligned with my personal mission statement? Will they really make me happy? (Sometimes the answer is yes. Sometimes the answer is no.)

In his email, Ben continued:

I think this is really the key to personal finance and early retirement — actually stepping back and figure out what is important to you, and doing it, even if it seems like you’re turning your back on a great career, or a nice house or whatever. That is the hardest part, which keeps most people in a life they don’t want. They think “I went to school X or work at company Y, so therefore I must live in this city or have that job or have that wardrobe” and never ask themselves what, as individuals, makes them happy.

The Pleasure Trap

As our email conversation continued, Ben brought up another interesting point. He noted that our culture — and this is especially true in the world of financial independence blogs — is obsessed with “experiences”, such as travel. Yet in many ways, collecting experiences is no better (nor any different) than collecting things.

Here’s Ben again:

[Bourdain] had the ne plus ultra of modern life: rich, famous, a job that 99% of the population would kill for, saw everything he wanted to see, ate everything he wanted to eat, I’m sure slept with tons of women if that is what he wanted, took all the drugs he wanted. You name it, he had it. And, he hung himself in a hotel room in France, a twice-divorced man a continent away from his daughter and girlfriend.

I’m not bagging on him. I just think he illustrates something: A meaningful life doesn’t consist of a series of cool experiences, or traveling or eating cool stuff. Bourdain did that stuff to an incredible degree, and it still didn’t make him happy.

I think that is what our society has forgotten. I feel like we’re always being told we should move a lot, travel a lot, be vaguely or overtly dismissive of the town or state we were born in, move for college and never move back home…in short, basically be a free agent with fewer and fewer personal connections, or weaker connections. And, we get this [higher suicide rates].

[…]

I think this relates to personal finance. There is always this thought that thrift requires these huge sacrifices — less travel, fewer new experiences, fewer new restaurants. But what if [these aren’t sacrifices]? What if irrespective of cost, that stuff isn’t really a source of happiness? I mean, people accept that with respect to possessions — nobody says a Cadillac or a 5000-square-foot home is the key to happiness — but many, many people in our culture think new experiences are crucial to a happy life. It may be the opposite — the continuity and free-time to invest in loving relationships may actually be the key to happiness.

I told Kim about my conversation with Ben. “It’s the pleasure trap,” she said. “People fall for the lie that momentary pleasure equals happiness. But pleasure isn’t the same as happiness.”

She’s right, of course. Happiness is like planting a garden, watching it grow, then enjoying the harvest. Pleasure is simply eating the fruit. Happiness is deeper and richer and longer lasting. Pleasure is fleeting; happiness is not. But happiness involves time and work and patience.

Now, I’ll admit: I’m guilty as anyone else of falling into the pleasure trap, and in oh-so-many ways! I have to make a deliberate effort to look past immediate pleasure in order to consider long-term happiness. This often requires enduring unpleasant activities. Do I really want to go out in the cold and the rain to dig in the mud and plant my garden? No, not in this moment. I’d rather sit in the hot tub. But if I don’t plant the garden, I’m sacrificing greater happiness in the future.

Final Thoughts

While I think that Kim and Ben are onto something — the productivity trap and the pleasure trap are both real and both problematic — I keep coming back to Anthony Bourdain’s battle with depression.

During my recent road trip through the southeastern U.S., I talked with two friends who are fighting depression in their own lives. One friend has a spouse who cannot shake the condition despite counseling, despite exercise, despite a loving family. The other friend fights the condition himself and it’s led to weight gain and addictive tendencies. Therapy has helped some but it’s not a cure-all.

As for myself, I haven’t yet returned to therapy although I’m considering it. (Not so long ago, I spent a year working with a therapist to find ways to cope with anxiety and depression. It helped.) I want to stress again that I am not suicidal. But the depression has most definitely affected my daily existence, including my relationships, my health, and my work here at Get Rich Slowly.

It sucks. It sucks. It sucks. But I know that it’ll get better — someday.

The post The death of Anthony Bourdain: Thoughts on productivity, pleasure, and depression appeared first on Get Rich Slowly.

from Finance https://www.getrichslowly.org/death-of-anthony-bourdain/ via http://www.rssmix.com/

[myrasmelancholia-blog]

Hello 2018.

I’ve always wanted to try blogging but I could never really find myself determined enough to go through it. The idea just stuck with me and never materialise, for a very, very longgg time. Then I thought, what a good way to start the New Year. By creating a blog, my very own personal journal in this virtual world, I can read all the thoughts (just to remind myself that I am capable of coming up with something clever, or so I thought) even the petty, crazy ones that keeps running though my mind. 

2017 has been a year of emotional turmoil for me, as I discovered that I suffer from depression, a type of mental illness, along with anxiety disorder. Throughout the months that passed by, the symptoms started to develop but I didn’t know it was leading to the illness itself. So I didn’t manage the symptoms well, I ignored it, in hopes that it will soon go away, like something I can snap out of. But it didn’t. It only made it worse. I only made it worse. One of the symptoms I felt was my inability to enjoy the things that I used to love doing, I have low appetite, I cringe at the thought of eating. I thought to myself, if I don’t eat, what’s the worst thing that could happen? Every single time I have to digest something (I only eat when I was super hungry) I feel like vomiting. Its not something that I usually do. I used to enjoy eating, well, who doesn’t right? If I could eat like a normal human being before, why couldn’t I do that now? Something is definitely not right. On top of me having eating problems, I realised that I worry obsessively, about things that have not happened yet, and remunerate about the past, my regrets, all this feelings eventually heightened my anxiety altogether. My head is racing with all the negative thoughts, and I just wanted it to stop. Also, I feel like I’m unable to concentrate on certain things, most things, to be honest. I feel like my brain has turned into a mush. Like all the wires in my brain has been disconnected. My focus is impaired, I can no longer remember facts as easy as before and even the work that I’m familiar with at the office became something new to me. Why did this happen all so suddenly? I have no clue, no idea, and just going through the day seems like a battle to me. One very significant change that happened was that I slowly start to distant myself from friends, even close ones, my colleagues, my best friend, and my family. I clearly remember the day I felt so tired to even get out from bed, and I made up an excuse just so that I didn’t have to go to work. Its sad, really, but I didn’t have the motivation to summon myself to do anything that day. And when this happened, I start to feel so low for the days to come.

With all the anxiety and feeling of restlessness that I go through everyday, I am blessed because I have my husband and family, and friends as a constant reminder that they are the reason for me to keep on surviving this battle. My husband was that first person I told about my illness. Even when I didn’t know I had it. I guess he must have been feeling a bit lost at first, not knowing exactly what to do or even how to react. It was surreal and confusing even for myself, what more to him. I was glad he was there for me, even though he didn’t ask much about the illness, he reassured me that everything was going to be OK and that I have to stop beating myself up. Through his words of encouragement I found myself some form of strength, as little as it is. It’s not as easy as it seem to be. I did not ask for this illness. If I knew a way to stop feeling this way, if there is a switch in my head that I could just turn off, I would do it. I would switch off all the depressive, anxiety switch off forever. But it’s not like that. It’s more complicated than that. It’s not a bug that I can just kick. I couldn’t tell my parents, because I didn’t want them to worry about me, I knew my father would be somehow disappointed if he finds out that I have this illness, and I just couldn’t bear to see the look on my mother’s face if she knew about it. I don’t think they would understand it at all. Plus, they had so many things on their plate, the last thing I wanted was for them to worry about me. So I guess it’s better to not let them know. For now. As for my friends, I told some of them, not all. A friend I shared my problem with didn’t know how to react when I told her about me having depression, she just assumed it was the stress from my marriage preparations, and adjusting to the new company that I just started in. She consoled me, told me to take some rest and I’ll be just fine. I was OK for a moment when she assured me everything was going to be normal again, and that it was just in my head, all these worries that I can’t even think of how to explain or describe, that I can feel better again. But it didn’t. So I kept it to myself and missed work a couple of days in a week. It was horrible. It was pathetic. I didn’t know what was going on. I didn’t know who to look for, who to seek advice from. So I Googled my problems away. That was the only way I know how. Alhamdulillah after countless research I’ve found some organisations and clinics that provided the help I needed. 

I didn’t want to let my other friends know I had depression due to the fact that I was scared of getting judged by them, or maybe they would discriminate me, and alienate me for being different from them. I assumed they wouldn’t know how to handle me for being different, for being mentally unstable, so I decided to stay away from them, and at the same time try to solve this illness the best way I thought I could. But it got worse. I didn’t get any moral support from them because they don’t know about. Well how could they, right, if I myself couldn’t tell them the truth? Some of my friends in my new work place noticed a different in my physical well being also socially. One of them noticed I was biting my fingers a lot. I have this ‘wolf-biter’ syndrome, its this obsessive compulsion to chew on one’s skin around the fingers. Scientifically they call it ‘Dermatophagia’. It’s been a very old bad habit that I can’t break away from actually, I know I’ve always had it from I was small, it stopped for a while and happened again. I pick on it whenever I’m stressed out, or when I get anxious and my mind suddenly becomes so overwhelmed with unnecessary fear and worry. I guess I didn’t know how to master the art of being mindful, of being present, and just focus on what’s happening in the now. Its hard sometimes because life gets haywire and you don’t know where to start, how to overcome it, and when your mind plays tricks on you, you become restless, agitated and that’s when I start fidgeting and biting my fingers. Only Allah knows how many times I’ve tried to stop gnawing on it. It’s been a roller-coaster ride, trying to stop this bad habit, I thought it was just some bad habit I had, that it stop whenever I wanted it to and that it wouldn’t lead to anything worse. But little did I know that it’s actually a sign that I’m suffering from a mental health problem. Finger biting for me is a way I deal with stress, something like a coping mechanism. All the doctors I’ve seen didn’t notice this physical sign. Some of them whom I’ve seen I mentioned about, but they didn’t know about it at all and just ignored the disorder. Maybe they thought it wasn’t important? I don’t know. All I know is that I wanted to stop the bad habit but failed, miserably. I tried putting on lotions, gamat, aloevera gels all but to no avail. So this friend of mine who notice that I seem to be picking on my fingers a lot, she assumed that maybe it was because ‘kena buat orang’. So she advised me to go to Darus Syifa’ and see a Ruqyah practitioner. I told her I didn’t know what was going on and that no one I knew would do something like that to me, or had any bad intentions towards me. She said we might think that we don’t have any bad enemies but maybe the person acted on it because she was jealous, or it might come from someone we don’t know well. It was too hard for me to process because I’ve always kept a good relationship with people and those I know, are good people. So I don’t think its because of that, but my friend told me to seek help anyway because if its not because of that, it might be because of ‘jin’ or ‘syaitan’ trying to make us feel that we’re alone, and they want us to feel alone so that we feel hopeless. Astaghfirullah. I was grateful for having her because she genuinely sympathised and wanted to help. She even offered to bring me to the Darus Syifa’ place.

Prior to seeing  several psychiatrists, I have called Befrienders, a hotline where anyone suffering from depression or anxiety or even suicidal thoughts can call, like a support group. I called them in twice actually. The first time I called I was a little reluctant because I’m afraid the person I’m talking to wouldn’t understand what I’m going through and would belittle my issues. But luckily that didn’t happen and I felt much better after talking to them. They actually do listen to your problems, even though you might think of it as trivial and silly. Helplines like these do help and I’m glad they are available 24/7 for all those that need any kind of emotional support.

I’ve visited 3 psychiatrist, all 3 diagnosed me with clinical depression. Why did I go to 3 different psychiatrist? First, I wanted to confirm my illness, I thought it was just a temporary low state of mental health, so the doctor could just give me some meds and I would feel better the next day. I told him everything I could remember about my symptoms, family history, etc. He prescribed me Agomelatine (Valdoxan) & Bromazepam (Lexotan). The first is an antidepressant, used to treat major depressive disorder the latter is an anti-anxiety drug, which falls under benzodiazepine or most commonly called Benzos, used to relief symptoms of excessive anxiety. Further explanation on the drugs are explained below.

Agomelatine is an atypical antidepressant was developed under the assumption that one of the main causes of depression is abnormal circadian rhythm. Unlike other antidepressants, agomelatine is a melatonin analog that helps with many root causes of depression. It also has fewer side effects and withdrawal symptoms. It is marketed for the treatment of major depressive disorder, primarily for its relatively favorable side effect profile: it avoids the weight gain, sexual dysfunction, and severe withdrawal associated with the most commonly used classes of antidepressants (SSRIs, SNRIs, tricyclics), while providing similar therapeutic benefit. - Source from www.selfhacked.com & Wikipedia

Benzo's are a specific class of drugs that work by lowering anxiety and relaxing you. They do this by increasing the level of a chemical called GABA in the brain which is responsible for creating feelings of mental/physical relaxation and disinhibition. At higher doses they can be sedating and cause sleep. They are sometimes called tranquilizers for that reason. - Source from www.socialanxietysupport.com 

Thank you Google. I took 1 each for 1 day and stopped. At this point I was scared, because even when I talked to the Doctor my main concern is my fertility and that I worry that by consuming these drugs would have an impact on my baby (if I was blessed with the ability to get pregnant InsyaAllah later). I couldn’t remember much about what he said after I voiced out my concerns. But I remember him saying that these drugs are safe and he told me to take it every day and to see him in 2 weeks as a follow-up appointment, in which I didn’t go. Soon after seeing him I googled up the drugs, like what every curious person on this Earth would do, and I feel like an overwhelming sense of fear after reading through articles after articles, it was just so scary. Like why would taking the drug make you feel even more worse after consuming it? Some of the side effects include dizziness, fatigue, anxiety, low libido, insomnia and many others. I feel like he didn’t clearly explain to me the side effects, and for me to discover about it all by myself, which only contribute to my anxiety and that made me gave up trying altogether. I will share more about my 2nd visit in my next post InsyaAllah. Till then. 

[renfys]

Opening Up And Being Open On World Mental Health Day

Today is World Mental Health Day. And as I said to a colleague recently I am very open about my mental health. For years since my health has improved, I have written blog posts about my illness and diagnosis. I have even written about mental health for The Mighty. I will talk to anyone about it. Friends and family, colleagues and customers. I have talked to my niece and nephew about my self-harm and even strangers. I’ve posted on facebook and twitter when I’m suffering from depression or anxiety.

I am open.

You don’t have to be. I am recovered for the most part. As recovered as I may ever be. I’m in a better place than I have been for years. I feel capable of being so open about my past and my current mental health.

If you are not me (seems likely), and not past the worst of your illness, your suffering, your problems, that’s okay. I know everyone says people should talk about mental health more and I do that in spades. But that doesn’t mean you have to if you can’t if you’re not ready.

If you don’t want to.

There is one thing you should do though.

Open Up

You don’t need to tell everyone your problems. You don’t need to confide in the world that your depression has kicked your ass today. You don’t need to admit to suffering from anxiety, Or bpd or psychosis or social phobias (all things I suffer or have suffered from).

You just need to open up to one person.

Find one person to trust, to be strong when you are your worst. People cannot carry this sort of emotional and mental suffering around with them without someone to talk to. Whether it be a friend, a family member or a stranger on the internet even. Someone to unload on.

Not everyone has help, advice or even words but people can and will listen to you talk or type for a little bit.

I know because I’ve been there.

Even without suffering from mental health problems people need to talk. Everyone has problems and talking help. Sometimes it’s just the connection to another human being we need, sometimes it’s actual tangible support we need.

Whatever it is you need, find it, take it.

One day you’ll be able to pay it forward.

Opening Up

I am definitely at a place where I can be open about my mental health.

Before I would barely talk to anyone about anything. I hid everything. It took me years to even admit to my mum and sister that I suffered from mental health problems and that I self-harmed. That was not an easy conversation nor one I want to repeat but it was necessary.

It meant that I could count on these people for support. Not that I couldn’t before, but now they could support me with my mental health problems. I needed that. Other than my ex-boyfriend they were the only people in the real world that knew about my illnesses (not including doctors).

I did, however, have an online support network. I have been blogging since I was nineteen, though back then it was more of an online journal. I had a Diaryland and a LiveJournal, and joined a forum for self-harmers. I’ve met a lot of friends through these places. Including my best friend and son’s godmother.

For while it was all I had.

Over the years that network grew and improved and so did my mental health.

Being Open

Now I’m a mostly functional adult human of the real world. I have a job and a family and a house and mostly manage all three.

Mostly.

The thing about mental health recovery is that it’s never complete. I feel about 80% most of the time. But that is enough for me, enough to be living a good life and to be happy.

It is enough for me to be open about my past and my present mental health people. At first, it was hard. Writing about it was easy, writing about it will always be easy. What was hard at first was hitting the publish button, letting those words out there and sharing the posts online. Now I’ve been doing it for a while it’s much easier. I’ve even been open about my personal hygiene problems while suffering from depression.

Now it’s easier and I feel like it’s important. Not just because it helps other people know they’re not alone, not just because it help destigmatise everything. It’s important to me too, To keep writing about those years, the worst of it and the best of it. To document how I survived and how I continue to live.

I hope everyone can reach this place too. But if you can’t that’s okay and if you don’t that’s okay too. All you ever need to do is be yourself and live.

Live.

More Information

Mental Health Support Links

World Mental Health Day

The Mighty

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[reflectiverecovery]

The Road to Recovery

Firstly, hi! It feels so good to write again. I decided to make a new blog as my other Tumblr is quite old and polluted with a multitude of emo-angst and cat picture posts. Here’s a shiny new one, just for you. I can’t promise there won’t be any cat pictures. As it’s World Mental Health day (woo) I decided to write a personal mental health update. As many of you know, I’ve been partial to doing this in the past, but with change in jobs and general life I’ve not done so in quite some time. As with any mental health blog, this comes with a trigger warning attached, so please be mindful of this if you choose to continue. Also, I’m not a professional, so the views and ideas here are just that - ideas. If you require support please utilise the links at the end of the article. According to The Telegraph, 1 in 3 work sick-notes handed out by GPs are for mental health, with 1 in 4 of us still experiencing mental illness each year, and 1 in 5 considering suicide - it’s clear mental health is still an area of need and importance for the general public. The Independent, too, discusses some interesting statistics on the why and how of modern-day mental health issues, with social media and finances/debt being listed as key contributors.  On a personal note, I myself have regular struggles with my mental health. After childhood trauma, coming to terms with being gay and other personal challenges I have a history of anxiety and depression, and traits of Borderline Personality Disorder, or BPD. This means I tend to have heightened emotions and can struggle with some social situations, and those present in relationships. I have had several forms of talking therapy - counselling, CBT, Cognitive Analytical Therapy (CAT) and most recently Psycho-Dynamic Therapy, mixed in with attempts on pretty much all of the common antidepressants (Fluoxetine, Citalopram, Mirtazapine and so on). But despite the rocky road I made it through - and you can too. Mental health is really tricky. I often find myself second guessing my own mind (am I really ill? Am I doing this just because I think I’m depressed, or am I actually depressed?) The truth is, only you know, and you need to trust in your instincts. If you’re doubting your own stability or your own health that is an indicator something needs to change. But the change doesn’t have to be drastic - a former therapist of mine warned that it’s easy when you’re on a downward spiral to impoverish yourself, and push away things that could actually help. What you can do, instead, is create time and space for reflection. As cheesy as it is, mindfulness and meditation really can work wonders - even if it feels next to impossible to fit this into your working day, make the time. I’m sure your employer would rather you spend 10 minutes meditating at work than 10 weeks off sick as a result of stress... but you didn’t hear that from me. In terms of where I am now - I recently had my review from my last talking therapy. This basically involved a 6 month gap after my 18 months of therapy, during which I could reflect and work on myself. Due to budgets and the NHS mental health services being heavily stretched (definitely a conversation for another day) my therapy couldn’t be extended, but group therapy was an option if I needed it, or we could look to alternatives. However, I’m pleased to say that my therapist and I both agreed no further course of action was needed at this time. Progress! I’m lucky, the past year or so has been groundbreaking for me. I got a great job and I’m the most independent I’ve ever been - perhaps at 26 years old that’s strange to say, but it’s true. That being said, I still have down days and weeks and I’m still on antidepressants - though I’m currently on the lowest dose of Venlafaxine, which I’ve been taking for several years. That last step of coming off completely is still a little scary for me, but I know I’ll make it when I’m ready. My journey hasn’t been easy and has taken many years - I don’t know if it will ever truly be ‘over’, and I imagine there will always be struggles, but I’m pleased to say my recovery is steady and I’m happy with where I’m going. Of course, healing and recovery will look different to each individual, but here are a few things I truly believe will help along the way, and have certainly helped me:

1) Family

Each family is different, and I don’t necessarily mean a relative. Surrounding yourself with people you value is so important - I’m lucky my employer believes in family values, so I have my ‘work fam’ alongside my actual family. Find out what family means to you and immerse yourself in it - whether it’s friends, colleagues, relatives or even an online community. My family (or families) have genuinely kept me alive on more than one occasion.

2) TALK

Breaking the stigma around mental health is impossible without talking about it (see Time to Change, they’re awesome). Talk to your friends, your manager (or HR department), you could even write about it. You don’t need to suffer in silence. This also leads on to:

3) Seek Professional Help

I know, the NHS isn’t great. Wait times feel endless and it’s easy to presume they won’t do anything for you. But you won’t know until you try - I waited years to get the support I feel ‘worked’ for me, but I’m so glad I did. Also, don’t be scared off by antidepressants. We all need a little help sometimes and there’s no shame in this. You wouldn’t refuse insulin if you were diabetic - this is just the same, and it doesn’t have to be permanent. Start the process, speak with your GP and take control of your situation - you’ll be all the better for it.

4) Find Value

I’ve had several jobs over the past few years and it took me a long time to find my fit. However, it’s not all about your employment. After the suicide of a girl in my year from school I found inspiration to volunteer in a cause that mattered to me - Nightline. Nightline aims to reduce student suicides, and is a charity I’ve worked with in the past. Even though I struggle for time (who doesn’t?!), giving back to something that matters to you is a fantastic way to enrich your own life and find purpose where you may have felt lost in the past. Give it a go!

5) Be Mindful

Vague... I know. But sometimes you need to think of the bigger picture. Look at how far you’ve come - everything you’ve faced and beaten. I truly believe people who have been through mental illness are the strongest out there, they just need the time to realise it for themselves. However, never underestimate the struggles of another - kindness goes a long way and could save someones life.

<3

If you do seek professional support, please check out the NHS website here. And in times of crisis, Samaritans are always there - I’ve used them myself in times of need. You really are never alone in this.

[theothersidepress]

The Importance of ‘Evidence’ in Spirit Communication.

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                    The Importance of ‘Evidence’ in Spirit Communication.

Many people – the majority of whom are new to the idea and practical reality of our being able to communicate (via a mental or physical medium) on a regular basis with those people who have previously had a life on this Earth in what to us is a ‘real’ (that is to say ‘Physical’) world – have for several years now asked me: “How can you really be sure that the communications and messages you receive through a medium are actually coming from a spirit person, whether unknown to you – or a specific loved one or relative – who has had a life in this world, and then died??”

The answer is always: “Through the actual accurate and ‘Real’ Evidence of Post-Mortem Survival which you obtain personally, or experience in a physical way during a sitting with a mental medium, or through a séance with a Physical medium or Group using either the classic ectoplasmic-based method, or the energy-based way of working. ‘EVIDENCE’ is the KEY to it all, just as during any court case, innocence or guilt is deemed to be ‘proved’ or ‘not proved’ by carefully weighing up the evidence personally.

It is now almost 19 years since ‘The Scole Experiment’ finished, in November 1998 – but the interest in this unique experiment we carried out in the 1990’s continues, and grows on a weekly basis!! I am frequently being asked “OK – so we have read about the amazing phenomena you obtained at Scole, but what about the ‘Real’ Evidence to show that an Afterlife exists? What did you receive during that time by way of actual Proof? “Well, I can definitely set everybody’s ideas straight on that score! Over the years at Scole and in other places we demonstrated the Scole Phenomena, we did receive – for ourselves personally, as well as for guests and visitors who shared our sessions – a massive plethora of Messages, Information, Evidence and Proof that Life Exists after we die. There is no doubt that Post-Mortem Survival is a FACT, for All of Us!!

By the time that ‘The Scole Experiment’ started in 1993, I was already a veteran of ‘Psychic Research’, with 20 years experience behind me, including over 250 private sittings with professional ‘Mental’ mediums, plus numerous Seances with Physical Mediums such as: Leslie Flint, Gordon Higginson; Stewart Alexander; Colin Fry; Geoffrey Jacobs; John Squires and several others (and that is not counting the many personal physical circles that Sandra and I had started and/or been involved in). I had received a real abundance of personal evidence myself which added up to absolute proof; so that I could state with all honesty – and well before the era of Scole – that the case for ‘Survival’ had long since been ‘proved’ to me as far as I was concerned.

It would be pointless for me to simply write here that ‘Life After Death’ is a Fact, without providing suitable ‘evidence’ to back up such a statement. Proof is a very personal thing, and each of us needs to research the ‘pros and cons’ for ourselves before deciding on our personal verdict. That involves making our own effort to seek out personal evidence for ourselves. After all, whether we live on after our death or not is a very important issue for mankind!! In my case, when people say to me “After 44 years’ intimate involvement with Psychic Research now, clearly you MUST ‘Believe’ in Life After Death”, I always say “NO – I do NOT Believe in Life After Death, because I KNOW it to be A FACT!!!” There is a massive difference between Belief and Knowledge!!

The Scole Experiment itself was something really special, and unique. If – by the time it started, I had received NO personal evidence of Post-Mortem Survival, then it would have been impossible (after the 5 years of involvement at Scole) for me NOT to KNOW FOR SURE that for ALL of US – life goes on after we pass to Spirit. Our loving Spirit Team at Scole immediately recognised the need to provide personal ‘evidence’ for every member of the Scole Experimental Group. It was not just a need, but a vital requirement, in order to establish the necessary total trust, partnership and cooperation between the Spirit Team and ourselves for the important pioneering work ahead.

Right from the start, the members of our Spirit Team at Scole made a great effort to bring us personal ‘evidence’ of Survival from our loved ones in Spirit, but it was not until April 25th 1994 that the ‘Evidence’ started to flow in profusion. That was the day when a new member of the Spirit Team – Emily Bradshaw (a Victorian Lady) – joined us, and stayed with us every time that we sat thereafter. To begin with, she was simply known to us as ‘Mrs. Bradshaw’ (a pseudonym, like most of the Spirit Team). Mrs. Bradshaw (speaking through our medium ‘Diana’ who was in deep trance), introduced herself, and appeared to be a very refined, but quite severe lady from the ‘Upper Classes’. In those early days, we would never have dreamed of calling her by her Christian name!! She was simply Mrs. Bradshaw. Her speech was only in the best ‘Oxford English’, but her diction was clear and precise.

Emily seemed to have a dual function within the Spirit Team, in that she remained ‘in situ’ for most of each session – acting as a sort of ‘compere’ in that she joined all the threads of the Team’s activities together; keeping us advised as to what was going on behind the scenes; predicting exactly what phenomena we could expect before it happened; issuing instructions and guidance to us wherever necessary. Her other VERY VITAL function, was to provide real and personal ‘Evidence’ for the Scole Group (in the beginning), which established the Spirit Team’s bona fides and two-way TRUST with us. In this, Emily was an amazing ‘Expert’ in the quality of the ‘Evidence’ we experienced from her. As we got to know Emily and her abilities intimately, we came to love and respect her to the point that she became – to us – almost a ‘surrogate mother’. It is true to say that although we came to love every member of the Spirit Team who worked with us at Scole, it is perhaps Emily that we have missed the most since the end of ‘The Scole Experiment’.

Sometimes little ‘throwaway remarks’ (given as amusing asides) from Emily to us in the Group proved to be very accurate and verifiable, such as the time that the four of us sat together – and Emily confided “Did you know that Monty Keen wears red long johns?”. Monty was one of the three SPR investigators who sat regularly with us in the Scole Group. The next time he and his two colleagues visited Scole, we mentioned this amusing remark of Emily’s to him. He thought it hilariously funny and – immediately – rolled up his trouser legs to confirm that Emily was – indeed – absolutely correct! Not even his colleagues had any inkling of the fact that Monty wore red long johns when he sat with us at Scole!! Sometimes, our own inner thoughts (unknown to everybody else in the room) were fed back to us in an amusing way by Emily to show us just how much she was personally in touch with each of us.

I do not have the room here in this article to detail EVERY small piece of the evidence we received during our sessions at Scole. However, every small instance was like a small piece of the Jigsaw Puzzle called ‘Proof’ which – when added together – left us in absolutely no doubt whatsoever that ‘Life Exists beyond Death’!! During the very first sitting that Emily introduced herself to us (25th April 1994), she started to give us quite amazing ‘Evidence’, when Sandra was told that her grandparents “named Glynn” were there on that occasion, as well as her first mother and father in law – Mr and Mrs Hutson. Emily went on to say that my mother was also present but was – at that time – too emotional to speak. However, Emily correctly gave her name as ‘Constance’, and accurately stated that she had passed to Spirit 8 years previously. Through Emily, my mother was able to correctly communicate the fact that because of her long illness, she had been rather a burden on my father in her latter years. My father was – said Emily –  also present at that session. She accurately named him as ‘Hubert Stevenson Foy’. He communicated the fact that he had passed to Spirit not long after my mother, in 1987 (most evidential). None of these fact was known to anyone else in the group apart from Sandra and me. Emily went on to remind me of (by giving me extremely accurate and intimate information unknown even to Sandra) concerning my dearest childhood memories of happy days spent in Scarborough with my Grandparents. These were very special and emotional memories for me of wonderful times from the past.

The personal ‘evidence’ for all of us (members of the Scole Experimental Group) as relayed in these messages by Emily Bradshaw continued to flow – week by week and month by month – so that (even just in itself) it presented a pretty strong case for the existence of an Afterlife! Little nuggets of information – unknown to all the other people present – were unbelievably accurate in their content. On May 9th, my mother was able to speak to me personally through the deep trance mediumship of Diana. We exchanged many memories, known only to ourselves (wonderful evidence!), such as her date of birth – March 30th 1915. Through Emily on May 16th, my mother gave her correct maiden name as ‘Grimble’. My father, at the same session, confirmed his own date of birth as January 31st 1912, and my own place of birth as ‘Blackpool’. The deceased husband of one of the other group members passed her a message – in similar fashion – through Emily, confirming his full name and date of passing. On May 23rd, via Emily, my parents were able to state accurately that they would have been married for 53 years then (had they both survived), having been married in March 1941 (this was extremely evidential).

The Case of Caroline Rochester

During our session on May 30th, Emily excelled herself by providing what became some of the most evidential information of survival received in the whole 5 years of the Scole Experiment. Bernette, one of our sitters, was asked by Emily if she was aware of a spirit presence in her home. Well, Bernette lived in an old Post Office in the village of Stansted Mountfitchett, and had been involved in psychic matters for many years. She was herself very sensitive, and had indeed noticed a ‘presence’ in her home. In fact, on many occasions both she – and other members of her family – had seen heavy hanging copper pans and objects in her kitchen and in other places in the home apparently moving and swaying on their own (without being touched, or being influenced by any kind of breeze). So she was happy to tell Emily that indeed she was aware of this. None of the rest of us in the group, however knew anything about such a presence in her home. Emily told Bernette that the spirit person involved was called ‘Caroline Rochester’. Emily went on to say that this lady, with her brother, had lived in Bernette’s house about a hundred years previously. Since Caroline was present at our Scole session, Emily described her to Bernette as ‘having ringlets’. Bernette was told that Caroline apparently wished to become closer to Bernette – and to help Bernette with her healing work.

Needless to say, Bernette wanted to see if these facts could be substantiated, as none of her family knew anything about the history of their house. Bernette and her husband David spent much of the next week trying to track down local records, but they had great difficulty in finding any information at all locally, and had no success with their initial enquiries. Finally, whilst the Scole Group were sitting again the next week on June 6th, Bernette’s husband had gone to the County Records Office to try and see whether he could find out more there about ‘Caroline Rochester’ and her brother. Whilst we were sitting, Emily spoke to Bernette to tell her “By now, you will have the proof of the ‘Rochesters’ who previously lived in your home��. We noted the time that Emily had given this message, but Bernette was not able to reach her husband by telephone immediately after our sitting, as he was still out.

There were smiles all round, however, the next day. Bernette was able to confirm that her husband had been able to trace the ‘Rochesters’ as the very first residents after the house had been built in the 19th Century. Furthermore, it transpired that her husband David had actually come across this information at the Records Office just moments before Emily had stated that “Bernette would have had her proof by that time”. What an amazing piece of Evidence!!!

Some ‘Evidence’ on Film

On Friday 13th January 1995, we were well into our photographic experimental work with the Spirit Team. At this particular sitting, we had a real ‘breakthrough’ with the photographic work. Before the session, we had placed a (still shop-wrapped unexposed) Black and White 35mm Polaroid Slide film on the central table. During the session, our very evolved Spirit Team Communicator ‘Paxton’ (a member of the ‘Council of Communion’) spoke to us to tell us that the photographic experiment had been very successful. He predicted that we would see on the film ‘the likeness of someone well known to us who was a member of the Spirit Team’; ‘the signature of a Spirit person who was very interested in our work’, together with ‘some writing in a foreign language’, which we must make the effort to get translated.

Paxton’s statement in itself proved to be very evidential! Immediately after the sitting, we developed the Black and White 35mm Polaroid slide film in the special processing unit we had been given by Polaroid. There were two clear photographs of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (who had already proved his presence to us as a permanent member of the Scole Spirit Team under the pseudonym of ‘Edwin’). On another frame of the film, there was a clear signature, which read ‘Ivor Novello’. It took us several weeks afterwards to get hold of a copy of Ivor Novello’s signature during his lifetime from an item of old sheet music but – guess what!! The two signatures (from his lifetime and from the film at this session) were virtually identical. That evidence was quite special. There was also – as predicted by ‘Paxton’ – a clearly written verse in what was indeed a ‘foreign language’. At our next session, we were told that this verse was written in ‘Romanised Sanscrit’, and came from the Sacred Book – The ‘Scrimad Bhagavatam’. We discovered this to be a very ancient book of Sacred Hindu texts, originally written in ordinary ‘Sanscrit’. About 35 years previously, it had been carefully translated into ‘Romanised Sanscrit’ for the first time by a Krishna devotee, and then published by the ‘International Society for Krishna Consciousness’ in that form, which is exactly how we received it on the film.

‘Paxton’ had asked us to get the verse translated but – at this point – we had no idea at all where we might find this book, or its more modern translation. However, a few weeks later, one of our Scole mediums – Diana – was walking around Norwich, bemoaning the fact that there was no longer a local library in the city to consult, since the beautiful new Norwich Library had burnt down not long before. At this point (clairvoyantly), Diana received the message to “Get the Book”. “That’s all very well”, thought our medium, “but where can I find it?”. Immediately the answer came back clairvoyantly “Go to the Oxfam shop”. Diana did this. She was amazed and stunned to discover a single copy of just one of the 18 volumes of the ‘Scrimad Bhagavatam’ on the shelf. It just so happened that this was the VERY VOLUME out of the 18 volumes that we needed, and it contained a complete translation of the photographic verse we had received during our Scole sitting!! Coincidence, or what??

The Sanscrit poem we received on film reads:

‘yad atra kriyate karma

bhagavat-paritosanum

jnanam yat tad adhinam hi

bhakti-yoga-samanvitam

The simple translation of this verse is as follows:

‘Whatever work is done here in this life for the satisfaction of the mission of the Lord, and what is called knowledge becomes a concomitant factor’.

Kingsley Fairbridge

The final piece of evidence I want to deal with here (I would have to write another book to cover all the examples!!) is the saga of Kingsley Fairbridge. At a session on 10th March 1995, as a part of one of our photographic experiments, we received (on an unopened and unexposed 35mm Black and White Polaroid Slide Film) a clear picture of an old-fashioned but good-looking young man. There was an amazing catalogue of evidence, consisting of several ‘coincidences’ that occurred afterwards which confirmed his identity.

We were told by our ‘Spirit Team’ that this gentleman was working with our Group from Spirit, and that he had a big heart for helping others. His name was Kingsley Fairbridge and he had been born in South Africa. He had then been educated at Oxford in England before moving to Australia, where he had set up the ‘Fairbridge Farm Schools’ for underprivileged children, to teach them a trade. His health had not been robust, and he had died young with cancer. We had never heard the name before, and made a great effort to try and trace some more details about this man. Regrettably, we were not successful initially, and were unable to find out any more about him.

In frustration, we published the man’s name and the details about him we had been given in one of the issues of our bulletin ‘The Spiritual Scientist’, asking subscribers to help us in providing any more information about this interesting person. One of our bulletin subscribers was a crop-spraying pilot in California, USA. He had a friend in Australia to whom he just happened to send his copy of ‘The Spiritual Scientist’ once he had read it. What a surprise it was for us to ultimately discover that the lady in Australia who had received his copy of the bulletin just happened to know the daughter of Kingsley Fairbridge, who was still living in Australia!!

Kingsley Fairbridge’s daughter subsequently wrote to us and – after we had sent her a copy of the photograph we received during our experimental session, together with the limited information we had about him – was able to confirm that yes, that WAS a photograph of her father, and the information we had been given by our Spirit Team was 100% accurate and correct!!

Author information

Robin Foy

Robin Foy is best known for his work with the Scole Experiment and is considered one of the original pioneers in physical mediumship using new energy based methodology. He is the author of several books on physical mediumship and is a true expert.

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The tabloid and the doctor

I wanted to share this again in longform as these are such important and brave posts. Clare Nettleton and I were at medical school together and we recently caught up over Facebook. She looks exactly as gorgeous as I remember from 25 odd years ago. I recall her fearlessness, her whip smarts, filthy humour and her ever so slightly intimidating cool. She used to cut my hair; one of the ‘boys’ took me aside to say that he thought she had gone ‘too far’ it was too ‘out there and short’. I went back a week later and we agreed to cut it waaaaay shorter.

To hear of a friend’s distress and torment over the years is awful, but to hear the relentlessness of it and the bitterness in the trashy press has filled me with a protective fury. But despite this, she remains incredibly tough, full of love and creativity. She has an amazing sense of colour; her Facebook postings are explosions of beauty.

This might help understand the processes of being a patient and of being publically shamed in the way only doctors can, but particularly the salacious glee that women doctors can be inflicted with. The usual help organizations are available as this may trigger deep experiences for you. But we can and should all be proud of Claire and wish her well in her next tedious round with the gutter press.

“I have vacillated for some time now over sharing my past personal experience of extreme mental unwellness. Given both the increasing awareness of mental health issues as a society and our way of living in the developed world which can just be the tipping point of a precipitous mental decline, I thought it important. Not least to show, as Mandy Stevens has done (https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/from-nhs-director-mental-health-inpatient-10-days-mandy-stevens) with brutal honesty that it can happen to anyone, but also to show that states of severe mental ill health are in no way necessarily permanent.

6 years ago I started to become extremely mentally unwell. A long-standing state of almost intolerable anxiety eventually caused a complete psychotic breakdown with utter unravelling of reality and I was admitted to a psychiatric hospital. I have never been more terrified in my life as my mind twisted what I experienced into beliefs of torture, rape and eventual death. Those 4 months are something I would not wish on my greatest enemy.

After I was discharged I worked terribly hard to restore my mental health and against all initial odds I was eventually able to work again, very successfully. Resilience is a wonderful thing! Sadly, however, I was followed by the assumption from some colleagues of enduring underlying mental health problems based purely on that one episode. However, because I was able to change the circumstances that resulted in my breakdown I have remained well ever since.

Recently I have been introduced to the writings of American psychiatrist Peter Roger Breggin. He is a controversial critic of biological psychiatry and psychiatric medicine. In his books he advocates replacing psychiatry’s use of drugs and ECT, and replacing them with psychotherapy, education, empathy, love and broader human services. I am in no way advocating the removal of all medication in psychiatry; however, there is certainly no doubt of the iatrogenic worsening of symptoms from some medications and the undoubted conflict of interest with Big Pharma.

What has struck me most is this, his definition of psychosis, which completely mirrors my own experience:

“Psychosis is like broken poetry: a flagging soul’s last metaphorical stand in isolation and humiliation.”

There is always hope and the potential for recovery in most acute psychiatric illnesses. Love, support and resilience are undoubtedly the major game players here.”

“Recently I shared with you my experience of acute mental unwellness 6 years ago and the sad enduring prejudice by some colleagues when, some 3 years later, they insisted on GMC self-referral. The event which precipitated this was my separation from my husband. A colleague decided that there was nothing wrong with my marriage and that the only conclusion must therefore be mental instability. She actually telephoned my old psychiatric consultant. I had been discharged from the services for around a year at this point.

What followed was a 2 year GMC investigation followed by a 2 week hearing in Manchester and a 3 month suspension which I spent recovering from burnout. My suspension was for 10 missed referrals. Ironically it was me who had put in place the system for monthly audit as a safety net which had been ok’d at 2 practice meetings, but unbeknownst to me never implemented. The GMC GP expert witness was unable to understand the Read Code system and the fact that each of my 10 referrals had been correctly coded and therefore would have been picked up IF the monthly searches had taken place. The evidence to support this accusation (which actually worked in my favour) was brought in mid-hearing. If I and my team had known in advance we would easily have been able to show the clarity and robustness of the system.

Super, duper boring to the public, one would have thought. However there were 2 other areas that had been of concern. Firstly, my mental health which was categorically proven to be robust before the hearing even took place. Secondly accusations made by the practice manager that I had had affairs with 2 patients. This was proven during the hearing to be not true. Sadly, the contemporaneous airing of ‘Dr Foster’ welcomed salacious, evidence-free comparisons with myself. One journalist was present for about 2 hours of the whole 2 weeks. The red tops had a field day.

On the 7th January of this year, out of nowhere I received a hateful trolling message from what is clearly a false FB profile (the person does not exist, the photo used from stock). On Friday I was told by my medical director that the Mirror had been at it again of which I had been unaware. Here is the link for your perusal:

https://www.google.co.uk/…/love-cheat-village-doctor-who-95…

It is on-going. I could sue but I think my energies are better employed in a forward-thinking direction. I have 2 children and I live in a very rural, parochial area. The vast majority of people are great. A vocal minority is intent only on salacious tittle-rattle.

Friends and colleagues have been incredibly supportive - I don’t know how I would have coped without them. As I said before I am pretty resilient, but there is no doubt this is horrifically draining at times…”