Let's talk about it

Hello! And thanks for taking the time to come and take a peek! I’ve created this space with the idea of sharing thoughts, theories, feelings, emotions and general nuances about the ins and outs, ups and downs of all 'matters #mentalhealth'.  In our daily lives, we often encounter moments of mental turbulence, where clarity seems elusive and chaos reigns supreme.  The concept of ‘pink mist’, to me, encapsulates a state of mind characterized by a profound mental fog.  Imagine a haze descending upon the mind, clouding thoughts and obscuring clarity. It's as if navigating through a thick mist, where every thought and idea is shrouded in uncertainty.  Within this mist, chaos reigns unchecked. Thoughts collide haphazardly, forming a tangled web of confusion. Tasks that once seemed manageable now appear daunting, and the mind struggles to find a semblance of order amidst the chaos.  “Why pink?” you ask?  Well, let’s just say that’s my way of putting a slightly more positive spin on the matter.  A way to make it less daunting.  We always talk about dark clouds that descend upon us.  But if I visualize my mental fog in lighter shades of pink, somehow, I manage to personalize it, familiarize myself with it and make it feel lighter.  Like candy-floss if you will! sure it’s still messy, but much less threatening. 
Amidst the storm of the pink mist, there arises a desperate longing for calm and quiet. The mind yearns for respite from the relentless barrage of chaotic thoughts, seeking solace in moments of tranquility. It's a plea for stillness amidst the turmoil, a sanctuary where clarity can emerge from the haze.  So just stop for a moment.  Take a deep breath.  And if you need to… start again. 
If you'd like to talk about your own battles however, you are very welcome here to share your story!
Let’s talk about it. 

"Free Your Mind" - an epic song by En Vogue, released in 1992. The full line goes: "Free your mind, and the rest will follow... Be colourblind, don't be so shallow."  The song is a powerful anthem that addresses prejudice, stereotypes, and the importance of being open-minded. Its meaning has been influential in promoting discussions around racial and social issues.  But to me it’s much more than that.  The concept of ‘freeing your mind’, can be applied to our inner worlds; freeing your mind and learning to master your thoughts and perceptions, opening the door to a more peaceful and fulfilling life.
The power of the mind is vast, (and totally harvestable!).  It can be our biggest ally or just as easily our worst enemy.  Capable of shaping our experiences through the lens of our thoughts and beliefs, our mind often has us trapped in cycles of negative thinking—whether it's self-doubt, fear, or unhelpful narratives about who we are and what we are capable of. These thought patterns can act like invisible chains, limiting our potential and clouding our perception of reality.  But what if we could free our minds from these limitations? What if we could free ourselves of those shackles keeping us prisoners, and learn to see beyond the negative biases and mental filters that distort our view of the world? By changing how we perceive our thoughts, we can transform our experience and, consequently, our lives.  It’s imperative to not believe everything we think!  Sounds contradictory, for sure, but thoughts aren’t reality, they are merely thoughts. 
By freeing your mind, I don’t mean to suppress or ignore negative thoughts, but to create a different relationship with them. This is something I personally struggle with – ‘trust your instinct’ ‘go with your gut’… A lifetime of being encouraged to listen and trust myself, why wouldn’t I listen to my thoughts? It begins with awareness. And there is a difference between listening to your thoughts, (acknowledging them), and taking them as gospel! Many therapeutic approaches, like mindfulness and cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT), emphasize the importance of observing thoughts without immediate reaction. When you notice a negative thought, instead of engaging with it or allowing it to spiral, you can acknowledge it as just that—a thought, not an absolute truth.  Easier said than done, I know!  It certainly takes some training, a bit like meditation.  I know the first time I attempted to meditate, I struggled to keep focus, my mind kept wandering and it felt entirely pointless.  I can’t count the number of times I gave up, thinking it just wasn’t for me!  But with practice and patience we can (slowly) make progress.  We train our minds to focus.  And in the same way we can train our minds to acknowledge but not engage with our thoughts.  This simple shift in awareness can break the automatic chain reaction of negative thinking. By recognizing that thoughts are transient mental events rather than facts, you open up space to choose a different response.

Freeing your mind also involves challenging the limiting beliefs that keep you confined. These beliefs often stem from past experiences, societal expectations, or ingrained self-criticism, likely from a childhood where you were either told these things, or indirectly made to feel such a way. By questioning these beliefs and exploring their origins, you can start to dismantle the mental barriers that hold you back. For example, a belief like "I am not good enough" can be examined and restructured. Where did this belief come from? Is it objectively true? More often than not, such beliefs are based on distorted perceptions rather than reality. By re-evaluating them, you can begin to replace them with more constructive and empowering narratives. A crucial aspect of freeing your mind is the practice of acceptance. This doesn't mean resignation or passivity, but rather a willingness to embrace the present moment as it is. When we resist our thoughts and emotions, we often create more inner turmoil. Acceptance allows us to move through difficult experiences with greater ease, reducing the mental struggle that exacerbates suffering.
By accepting your thoughts without judgement and letting go of the need to control everything, you create a mental space where peace can flourish. This practice leads to a sense of inner freedom that is not dependent on external circumstances.

To live a life with a free mind is to live a life where you are not enslaved by your thoughts or emotions. It is a life where you have the clarity to see things as they are and the resilience to respond to challenges with grace.  Unlike the song lyric suggests, it is about being colourblind—not in the sense of ignoring the realities of life, but in being able to see beyond the mental filters that colour your experience with unnecessary suffering.

In essence, freeing your mind is about reclaiming your mental space and cultivating an inner environment that supports your well-being. It is an ongoing practice, a journey of learning to navigate the ebb and flow of thoughts with mindfulness, compassion, and courage.  Perhaps start small; get out those mandala colouring books, look up some mindfulness rituals, give meditation another try… Take some baby steps and start migrating towards a calmer more mindful state of being.  Free your mind! and the rest will indeed follow. By learning to observe, challenge, and reshape your thoughts, you can move toward a more peaceful existence—one where your mind is not your master, but your ally.  

Embrace what you can control – let go of what you can’t. 
I can't do much about the rain, that's something I can't change or influence - it's out of my control.  But I can choose how I want to feel about it.   
The end of summer is upon us, the change in season is inevitable and it's now palpable in the air, at least here, where I live. The storms are rolling in and autumn is just around the corner.  The house feels cold - a feeling I'd become unaccustomed to.  
With drastic weather changes and falling back into work and school routines, 'fun in the sun' feels like a thing of the past, a distant memory already, and mixed emotions are to be expected.   Going back to a job you’re unhappy in, or feeling overwhelmed at the lack of time you have to yourself at the end of each day – it takes its toll.  That’s why holidays are always needed.  I know of a few people who have been dreading it, and the anxiety and low moods over it are very real. 
But I have to admit I'm not one of them.  Although I do prefer the heat to the cold - admittedly the wintery cold months are usually my lowest times.  I find myself really affected by the winter temperatures, but this change of season and sudden push back into routine is actually something that seems to be boosting my spirits.  
Here's my take on it: 
- Routine gives my day structure, and where I have structure and I can be more productive, I feel better about myself. 
- Although change can often be scary, variety, they say, is the spice of life.  Summer holidays, lounging around all day, is heaven for a bit, but like anything else, it can become monotonous when it becomes the norm and a switch-up in routine is welcome. 
- Going back to work/school feels new and exciting, fueled by fresh motivation and drive to be productive and/or creative. 
- Change in weather (yes, the skies right now are looking gloomy AF but...) actually call for a cozy sweatshirt and a pair of soft socks which makes a comforting change! I'm suddenly excited at the thought of camping in a warm sleeping bag and roasting marshmallows on a camp-fire (which FYI doesn't actually happen where I'm from - it's just a romanticized idea we get from American TV 😆) but the call for change is a positive one nonetheless. 

I’ve also decided it’s time to make positive changes in my everyday habits.  It’s so easy to get into a slump, and I find (as do most people I’m sure) it’s so much harder to create (and stick to) a new habit, than it is to quit old ones. 
Any fitness professional will tell you, motivation is great, but it’s temporary; nobody stays motivated consistently.  Motivation will get you started, but discipline to keep at something is what marks the difference.  You can feel motivated to start up a new fitness regime, and that’s great! But once you get a few days in, perhaps you’ve had a bad day, perhaps you slept badly, perhaps the weather is massively affecting your mood… motivation disappears.  Discipline is what makes you go ahead and get on with it anyway, even though everything else is telling you to just collapse on the sofa. 
The same goes with mental well-being.  Positive thoughts come and go.  They are a great motivator on a sunny day! When we get some good news, when we are feeling particularly loved.  But not all days are a walk in the park – for those miserable days, it’s important to work through our emotions and remind ourselves that it is normal to have down days too.  And we keep working on our mental health and well-being regardless.  The mind needs training just like the body.  Mental fitness is a real thing! Look it up if you’re skeptical.  It’s been proven that training your mind and sticking to mental health routines helps us to improve and maintain a good mental health.  

Focusing on the positives that change might bring, the chance for new opportunities, new situations and making more memories is fueling me right now.  So, bring on the autumn cardigans, comfy boots and curling up under a blanket!  Change in season to me marks a new opportunity to start something new, to make a change, to make better choices and create new habits. It's another opportunity to grow and better myself. 
Bring it on, I say, bring it on!
What positive change will you embrace this season?

Have you ever felt the shame that can follow or accompany social anxiety? It’s a b**ch!  I went through the motions just yesterday, and having come through it and recovered rather quickly, the range of feelings and emotions on the matter are all quite fresh in my mind, so I figured I’d share.   I guess my anxiety spike started the day before, I was already feeling rather low, my energy levels had plummeted, it was my last day of work before a full week off… so I put it down to just being tired.  Really tired.  I hadn’t slept well the previous night, so it was understandable.  However, something was off.  We’d arranged to spend the evening with my partner’s family for the second evening running, a barbeque this time rather than just a quick drink.  Great plan! I had no qualms with it whatsoever.  I love my partner’s family; they are all absolute gems! The kind of family everyone wants; they’re all really close, lovely people who all get on really well and genuinely enjoy each other’s company – they spend time together and have a great time the same way you would with your best friends.  The relationship they have is enviable.  And they have always been nothing but welcoming and accepted me with open arms.  So, as I said, I was more than happy to go round for a barbeque.  Earlier that afternoon, my partner had secured us a little getaway to Menorca during the coming days as I had the week off.  Ironically, neither of us have ever been to Menorca, despite it being one of our nearest holiday spots, and we’ve heard nothing but good things about the island, so I should have been over the moon about it.  And I was definitely up for it! A day or two before we’d discussed the possibility of going to Morocco, or perhaps elsewhere, but it had dawned on me that my bank account was looking rather sorry, and realistically, I just couldn’t afford it.  So, when this opportunity came up, accommodation taken care of, and only the flights to pay for, it was an unbelievably good opportunity, a stroke of luck if nothing else.  My partner was bouncing with excitement, and I should have been too, but for some reason, I just couldn’t bring myself to feel the excitement.  I was happy to go, but just wasn’t feeling the euphoria.  We set off to the sisters-in-law’s.  The evening started off fine, good chat, great food and a nice chilled atmosphere, but shortly after we finished eating, the day caught up with me, and I felt shattered.  To be honest, by about 22h I was ready for bed.  But they were all laughing and joking and having a right old merry time.  I’m sure the fact that, unlike myself, they’d all had a couple of ciders and a generous shot of limoncello, helped mark the difference in mood and energy.  But I started to feel progressively more and more like a fish out of water.  I started to feel irritable and impatient.  I watched as my partner belly laughed and put on a comedy show over mere statements, they all took it in turns to say something side-splittingly funny and fall back in their chairs, heads thrown backwards and belly laughing hard.  I just didn’t get it.  It wasn’t that funny.  None of their comments or anecdotes were that funny, surely? I quickly realized I was the odd one out.  I was the only one out of all of us that wasn’t belly-laughing.  And it didn’t take long for me to start fighting with the voices in my head.  On the one hand, I could feel myself rolling my eyes and staring at them all in disbelief, desperate for someone to yawn and call it a night.  And on the other hand, I was so painfully aware that if I let those thoughts show on my face I’d be perceived as a miserable old bint, a rude and boring party-pooper who was blatantly disrespecting a good friendly bunch of people in their own home, purely for being jolly and enjoying each other’s company.  What was wrong with me?! I hated that version of me, that miserable, intolerant mong who had to keep catching herself glaring at people across the table watching them revel in joy and fighting my urge to roll my eyes every time someone made a bad joke.  Specially considering that, when in a good mood, I’m the mother-fudging queen of bad jokes!  You’re guaranteed to get a side-smile out of me, at least, whilst coming across dad-jokes on IG.  I was just tired. Really, really tired.  That’s all.  As midnight approached, there were a few yawns, not just mine this time, and thankfully we made a move and headed home where I climbed into bed and was out like a light within minutes.  But the next morning, I woke up in an even worse state.  I didn’t feel particularly rested, I’d had another bad night sleep, and now I could feel the anxiety starting to creep into my chest.  I was irritable.  God I was irritable! I sat out on the terrace, sipped on my cup of tea and ate about a trillion biscuits whilst I tried to set up my new ‘Own Your Stigma’ mug for an IG picture.  But the clamor of voices coming from the café down below was starting to drive me insane.  There was something going on two streets down, a bike race or something, and the commentator, it seemed to me, didn’t really need a megaphone.  I wasn’t interested in going down to check it out and soak up the atmosphere.  I opted to lie on the sofa instead and cover my head with a blanket.  Later that afternoon, we had once again, made plans to head into town to a local festival where they were said to be serving ‘pulpo’ and drinks, and later there were live concerts out in the street in the old part of town.  Any other day it was a plan I would have jumped at.  But I just couldn’t be f****ed!  My partner had been seeing the tell-tale signs all day, and knew what was happening.  I was given the OK to stay home if I didn’t feel up to it.  Then the fear crept in.  I was torn between the feeling of really really not wanting to go anywhere or be sociable or have to talk to people, even though they were people I adored and generally loved to be around – and the FOMO.  It didn’t help that normally I don’t have the freedom to go along to events like that, I usually have two kids in tow so am rather limited as to the social plans I can make.  If it’s not kid-friendly, it’s a no-go.  So, I should be jumping at all these opportunities now that the kids are away! And yet… I just couldn’t face it.  The contradiction in my mind was overwhelming – add to that the ‘what are they going to think of me just ‘not feeling like it?’ thoughts - I’m on holiday, no kids, amazing holiday getaway day after next… people are going to wonder what the hell is wrong with me! With all that in mind, I should definitely go… But then, if I go, and I’m not in the mood, (and I know I’m not in the mood) that’s also going to show on my face, and once again, I’m going to come across as miserable and anti-social.  Ugh!! I decided to stay home.  And guess what? It was the right decision.  I lay on the sofa for about 15-20 mins whilst I gathered my thoughts.  I text my bestie, asking if she was free for a chat, connected my headphones to my phone and decided to go out for some air.  I rang up my friend and we chatted for about half an hour.  I ranted and let it all out – the feelings from the night before where I’d felt exhausted and then felt like a miserable loser, the anxiety and irritability throughout the day, the sensation of tightness in my chest as if the oxygen wasn’t quite reaching my lungs, my inability to show or feel excitement about this holiday my partner had managed to arrange for us… and I just let my thoughts all flow out in words, knowing that my friend always listens, understands and never judges.  She is always 100% supportive and allows me to feel heard and understood.  Also, by saying out loud (to her) everything I’d been feeling, I then somehow saw it more clearly myself and it’s like a weight off my chest.  I felt almost instant relief.  Suddenly I found myself telling her how patient and understanding my partner had been with me all day.  My friend concurred.  She also pointed out that it was absolutely OK to be feeling these things right now, but in a couple of days time, when I find myself with my partner in Menorca, the mist will have lifted, and I will have a magical time.  I knew she was right.  These things always pass.  And so, we hung up, and Jonathan Roy belted out some unfamiliar songs that I hadn’t heard before but that resonated with how I was feeling so perfectly I almost felt they’d been written for me! I was suddenly filled with motivation to come home and write all this down.  I strolled home casually taking in the beginning of the sunset.  Once home, I dug out my pink hair dye and gave my locks a bit of a freshen-up (sarcastic understatement).  It had been looking more blonde than pink for a while now, and that bugged me.  So, with a fresh new coat of colour and a pot noodle... (yes, I know it’s not the healthiest choice, and for good mental health a good healthy nutritious diet is absolutely advisable, but I wanted comfort and ease, and that’s what I had to hand – I know you’re not judging me!) I settled myself down on the sofa minutes before my partner returned home with bright eyes and a huge smile.  I felt so much better.  I’m not going to make out that my anxiety was gone all together; a dull headache had made itself at home in the front of my skull, and there was no shaking it, despite the 600mg of ibuprofen.  But I did feel in much better spirits.  Taking the time to ride it out, spend some time with myself, with my thoughts, channel and express those thoughts, and allow it all to flow had been the right decision after all.  Today now, I am full of excitement for our trip to Menorca.  We leave in 4 hours for the airport so I should probably get some sleep.  It’s going to be great! When social anxiety strikes, the fear of being judged or not meeting social expectations can trigger this deep-seated feeling of shame. That feeling of shame then intensifies social anxiety. And so it becomes a vicious circle.  It's important to recognise that social anxiety and the associated shame are not signs of weakness or a personal failing. They are common experiences that many of us struggle with.  Acknowledging these feelings without judgment is a big step toward managing them.  Our internal dialogue is so important – be compassionate with yourself and listen to you own needs.  If you can, reach out to a friend or someone close to you as expressing these feelings is also a big help and often will feel like a weight-off.     Remember, it's okay to feel anxious or uncomfortable in social situations, and it's equally okay to seek help and support in managing these feelings. Everyone's journey with social anxiety is unique, and taking steps towards self-acceptance and understanding can make a significant difference.

Today is my birthday.  The big one.  The big FOUR OH. 
I lie.  It was a few weeks ago.  I began to write this the day before my birthday, but couldn’t quite express what I was feeling, at least not in a coherent manner.  I thought I’d try again the next day, once it was over and done with and the dust had settled… but that was a complete write-off as I was on such a downer I barely managed to get out of bed. 

I’ve been dreading it for just shy of a year now, tried to play it down, ignore it, and act as if it’s just another year, which it is, but still…  ALL of the emotions.  Luckily, I recently took the kids to see the new Inside Out 2 film, so we’ve had a crash course on feelings and emotions!  And so, I am reminded that it’s OK to feel whatever it is I’m feeling, even if some people roll their eyes at the subject, call it a mid-life crisis if you will, the struggle (for some of us) is real, and I won’t be shamed for bleating on about it. 

I’d taken a few days off work with the idea of celebrating, although mainly it’s because it ties in nicely with my son’s birthday, and I like to take the kids away for a fun-few-days for that, but to be honest, the last thing I really felt like doing was celebrating mine.  Or was it?  I’m not even sure anymore. 

On the one hand, everyone wants to feel special, everyone wants to feel loved, to have the people around you want to celebrate your birthday with you and make a fuss is always a lovely feeling – I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want people to make a fuss.  And yes, I also wanted to be made to feel like the mother-fudging-princess, because let’s face it – why wouldn’t I?  However, there is also this big drama around turning 40.  It’s not perceived as just any birthday; it’s the big one.  The comments, the build-up… It’s not just the stigma – the fact that they say women peak in their thirties and that it’s all downhill from 40.  It’s not just the conversations circling around menopause and wrinkles, the sudden difficulty to lose weight and the grey hair becoming your new look (the latter I’ve been fighting for the last decade anyway!) It’s not really about any of the physical changes that ageing entails – (although they’re not helping!) For me, it’s more about where I am in life.  I'm half way through my life, possibly over half way, and what have i got to show for it?
It hit me very suddenly. 
I changed jobs, started working for a smaller company, and a couple days in I realised that I am one of the oldest on the team… (apart from the two big bosses who are infinitely more successful and accomplished) And I wish I could say that I feel more mature and experienced and more capable than the bunch of ‘kids’ around me, but it’s not the case!  In fact, I’m forced to admire their abilities, their professionalism and their success! 
The overwhelming feeling is:  I’m old.  Have achieved nothing.  Have nothing to offer.  Am no longer cool or attractive.  And am very much just a dusty part of the furniture. 
I have a terrible habit of comparing myself to others.  To the people around me and, of course, everything we see on social media (shooting myself in the foot, I know!) but who doesn’t do it? It’s everywhere nowadays.  I don’t know many people who don’t share on social media.  And of course I’m aware that all you see of other people’s lives are the best bits, the bits they want to show off. 
Point being - I’m not where I expected myself to be at 40.  Back in the day I would envisage 40 as ‘old’… an age where you are settled down in life and everything is in place.  I remember joking with a school mate “if we’re not married by the age of 40, we’ll get together!”  It was said in a very jokey context – as you do when you’re young, precisely because the idea of being single at 40 and not settled down was ludicrous and marrying each other would have been a very desperate last resort.  A farcical concept. 
But now time has caught up with me.  The feeling of failure, and not having achieved anything with my life weighs heavy.  I have up days, and down days.  I will say that I’m not overly hung up on the past… What has been, has been.  We all make mistakes and you learn from them.  It’s fine - I’m over it.  But I can’t say with confidence that I’m overly hopeful about the future.  The ‘mistakes’ (that I’m not dwelling on) from the past, have dictated my present situation; I’ve gotten myself into a bit of a hole, at times it gets very dark in here, and I don’t see any clear way out of it.  As I say though, I have ups and downs.  And perseverance and a positive mindset is what I bank on.  

Right now, I’m actually feeling immensely positive and that’s perhaps why I’ve finally managed to post this.  I’m focussed on a new project, I feel I know myself better than ever, and my outlook on life is clear.  (Wahey! I just found a perk of turning 40!)  
I remind myself every other day to focus on the positives, to appreciate the small things in life and to be grateful for what I have.  And I am! ...No, honestly, I am! 😊 I can think of one or two people in worse situations… or at least parallel situations, although not many...  But there I go again, comparing myself to others! Comparison is the route to all evil!  We want what we don’t have, and we set as an expectation what we see others having or doing.  Screw that! We each have our own path, our own time-frames and our own rhythm.  I’ve decided to make some new year’s resolutions - Yes, I know new year’s resolutions are for the 1st of January, but I’m setting mine as of now; the first day of the rest of my life.  I will live intentionally, make the best of what I have and what I am doing, strive to be better, remind myself that the aim is progress not perfection and be proud of myself, if nothing else, for adopting the right attitude, if I can’t necessarily list many great achievements in life, I believe working on myself and on my mental health, to be a better version of who I once was is an achievement in itself – and above all, to enjoy the now and not get too hung up on the future or the mistakes of the past.  As they say: ‘the past is history, the future is a mystery, but the present is a gift’. 

So if any of this resonates with you - you should know you're not alone. Turning 40 can suck. It's not necessarily all rainbows and unicorn farts. Everyone's situation is different and so turning 40 or even ageing in general will feel different for everyone. I'm going to try and make this my last rant on the topic - and pursue down my positive mindset path. But for all you others still struggling with it - I hear you. I feel you. And I'm here for you. Much love.

Men's mental health is a pressing issue that often goes unnoticed and unaddressed due to deep-rooted societal stigmas and rigid gender norms. The consequences of this neglect are severe, manifesting in alarming statistics and personal struggles that many men face in silence.

Did you know?

Men are significantly more likely to die by suicide, accounting for nearly 75% of all suicides globally. This staggering figure underscores a critical mental health crisis that is often overshadowed by societal expectations for men to appear strong and resilient, deterring them from seeking the help they desperately need. High levels of workplace stress and burnout are common amongst men, yet they are less likely to seek support for these mental health challenges, fearing to be seen as incapable or weak.  Only 35% of men are willing to consult a mental health professional compared to 58% of women. This reluctance not only exacerbates their struggles but also contributes to higher rates of specific mental health conditions such as alcohol dependence and antisocial personality disorder. The reluctance to seek help often leads to engaging in risky behaviours as coping mechanisms. Substance abuse, reckless driving, and other forms of dangerous behaviour are more prevalent among men, further jeopardizing their mental and physical health. Moreover, men report lower levels of life satisfaction and are less likely to access psychological therapies that could provide much-needed relief and support. I would love to say that these are just cold, impersonal stats found on online databases and that I can’t put faces to cases… but unfortunately, I know several people personally who I know to have suffered or be suffering in some way.  Just over this past week, and perhaps what prompted me to write this post, I reconnected with a couple of old friends from my student days.  One of them had been off the grid for a fair few years, suffering with depression, anxiety and really struggling to get by.  Fortunately, he is one of the brave ones.  He sought help and has been diagnosed with ADHD.  He admits that suddenly a lot of his struggles make more sense and is now finding ways to manage them.  The other friend, who until two days ago I blindly believed to be happy and successful, living his best life, admitted to having been suffering from abuse in his marriage.  He has had to quit his job, is currently going through divorce and having to start a new life from scratch.  I applaud these two dear friends of mine for having the strength and bravery to stand up for themselves and believe that they deserve better. 

Unfortunately, not all men find the courage to do so and the impact of untreated mental health issues extends beyond personal suffering. Men constitute the majority of rough sleepers and missing adults, highlighting the severe social implications of this crisis. They are also nearly three times more likely to become dependent on alcohol and frequent drug use, which often leads to compulsory detention for treatment. What's more, men are disproportionately represented in the prison population, where mental health issues and self-harm are rampant.

Breaking the Stigma

Addressing men’s mental health requires a collective effort to break down the stigma and create an environment where men feel comfortable seeking help. Open conversations about mental health, targeted awareness campaigns, and accessible mental health resources are essential steps toward fostering a supportive community. Men’s mental health matters, and it’s time to recognize and address the unique challenges they face. By encouraging open dialogue and urging men to seek help, we can begin to dismantle the barriers that prevent them from accessing the support they need. Everyone deserves the opportunity to live a healthy, fulfilling life, free from the shadows of unaddressed mental health issues.  Look at those around you, reach out and just ask the question: how are you doing? Let’s break the silence and ensure that men’s mental health is a priority. We need to be loud and clear on this; it’s OK not to be OK.

We get stuck in a low self-worth cycle because when we believe something to be true (like not being good enough), our brain will find a way to gather all the evidence it needs to support this belief.  Even when a part of you knows it’s not true.  
The brain's a shifty little bugger.  It plays tricks on us, and although it’s main objective in life is to survive and protect us, seeking refuge in familiar pain is often an easier (safer) option than adjusting and learning new thought processes.
There are two voices in your head – the new voice, visualize it as a beam of light if you will; the voice of reason, of learning, that part of you that seeks help, that practices self-care, that researches the topics and goes to therapy, that believes and dreams of a better mental space and works hard to get to that place – that voice is there.  But the other voice, the louder one, the one that has been fed by past experiences, most likely childhood experiences and influences, the one that was with you when you weren’t yet old enough to form your own opinions and had no choice but to allow society and those around you shape your thoughts and perceptions, that voice has had all this time (your whole life up until now) to grow; it has had years of growing.  That voice is huge.  It’s a monster.  It’s the darkness that predominantly rules inside your mind.  The new voice, the beacon of light that occasionally let’s itself be heard and gives us a moment’s respite, has a lot of work to do in order to illuminate all those shadows. 
But it can be done.  It is important that we recognise and understand the logic behind our negative thoughts, of course they fog our vision – we have had a lifetime of them.  To learn new ways of thinking is hard, it takes time… it takes practice.  Don’t give up on yourself.  Don't expect change overnight, take it one day at a time, but do persevere.   

Of course, it is vital to look back into your past in order to heal your childhood wounds.  Any psychologist will vouch for the importance of shadow work – reconnecting with your child-self, listening to them, providing them with the security they need and letting them know it’s going to be OK.  I say childhood, but your emotional scars may not be from your childhood.  Perhaps you’ve had some negative experiences in your adult or even adolescent life, causing trauma that has impacted your confidence, self-worth and re-shaped your perceptions.  They are emotional wounds nonetheless.  And it is important to heal these wounds in order to move forward into a healthier state of mind.  But past wounds and shadow work aside – I want to take a second to look at what we can try to do in the present; in the day to day. 
Positive reinforcements and internal dialogue; how you talk to yourself, is so important.  This is one I struggle with and I didn’t realise until recently that I did.  I pride myself on being honest; a straight-shooter, say it like it is.  But I do have some tact, and I know to make an effort to be cautious with my words and be sensitive to people’s feelings.  But note when I say “other” people’s feelings. 
I’m not one to look in the mirror and repeat to myself ‘I am beautiful’. 
“Repeat it to yourself daily, like a mantra” – they said. 
Errr, nah… you’re alright.
I’m sure it’s great advice and works wonders for some.  But I just can’t bring myself to do it.  I haven’t reached a state of open-mindedness yet where I can welcome in and believe certain information, just because I'm told to.  That voice inside me, the one I mentioned before that’s been there since the beginning, the ‘monster’, is still too loud.  And unfortunately, that monster uses logic against me and is often the voice of reason. (Still likely wrong, but as far as MY brain is concerned, it’s the voice of reason).  And so, if I say to myself as I’m looking in the mirror, “you’re beautiful, you’re perfect the way you are”, that voice rolls its eyes at me: “yeh great, but you know you’re just saying that, you don’t actually believe it. Because you know you’re not.  Sort out your hair, maybe then.  Just a bit of eyeliner.  And mascara.  Darken the eyebrows…  You desperately need some make up on that face, if nothing else, to highlight your good features as best as possible, to distract from your body… Yeh, you can’t wear that.  Go change into another top – that one really isn’t very flattering – nobody wants to see that!”  
When written down and read out loud as if someone else were saying it, it does seem quite shocking, and rather nasty.  We would never say something like that to a friend.  So why say it to ourselves?  Why not have that tact and sensitivity with ourselves?  They say if you repeat something to yourself enough, you end up believing it.  I’m very much a ‘see it to believe it’ kind of girl.  But how to get your head around the fact that not everything we believe is necessarily true, and what we perceive, isn’t necessarily how others perceive it, so therefore, is it really true #foodforthought.  Looking for the positive in the negative is what I try to do in my day to day.  I’m not going to lie – there are days when I don’t achieve it.  My mental health journey is a roller-coaster ride of constant ups and downs.  When I hit a low, everything is dark, everything is hopeless, nobody can help me and above all, I can’t help myself, I am completely worthless and my life is pointless.  But then, without warning, the sun comes out from behind the cloud.  I find something positive to focus my energy on, a glimmer of hope.  Suddenly I find myself with the ability once again to see the beauty in the small things.  Be it, the cat jumping up on my bed and purring loudly as she curls up beside me (the peace that brings me is insane!), or seeing the strawberry plant we potted a month ago suddenly yielding one alien-like looking fruit, or just my child in fits of giggles over the most ridiculous cartoon on TV.  It really doesn’t seem to be that funny, but the pure joy the child exudes is unavoidably contagious.  So I allow myself to focus on these small things. And just like that I'm provided with the fuel to feed my motivation to keep trying; to keep learning and to keep persevering. 

Why is it that when we develop an emotional dependency, or we become infatuated with someone, we can’t seem to let go?  No matter how toxic the relationship becomes, we take the plunge and make that crippling decision to walk away, but we can’t seem to remove them from our minds.  Suddenly, all the negative aspects seem minor and we focus only on the good things.  We miss them, we feel alone, like life isn’t as enjoyable without them by our side… and we go running back to them.  Flashback to reality, when they were by our side, they often made us miserable, yet somehow, we only recall and long for the good times, no matter how brief those moments were.   After a lot of reflection on the ups and downs of relationships, I put this down to infatuation and idealization.  Infatuation is a powerful and intense emotional experience, often characterized by an overwhelming feeling of attraction and obsession towards someone. That rush of excitement and adrenaline when you first meet, the obsessive checking of your phone and texting at all hours, the desperation and reckless lengths you might go to just to get five minutes with them… It’s borderline obsession, and we call it love; Crazy, adolescent love.  But unlike real love, which develops and deepens over time, infatuation is typically sudden and often short-lived. It is marked by an intense desire for closeness and a preoccupation with the object of one's affections.  This intense attraction is often fueled by idealisation.  When infatuated, we subconsciously tend to overlook the flaws and imperfections of the person we are drawn to, focusing instead on an idealised image.  Why? Where did this image come from? Was it our own desperation that leads us to plough full speed ahead into the unknown, pegging all our hopes and dreams on an image that we have partly conjured up in our minds with just a few snippets of reality? This obviously leads to unrealistic expectations and inevitable disappointment when reality fails to meet these heightened perceptions in the relationship… and so, quite rightly, we’ll blame ourselves for it, and stick it out.  Physiologically, infatuation can manifest as a racing heart, a sense of euphoria, and even anxiety. I like to think it’s more excitement in the early stages rather than anxiety… but that changes over time.  These feelings are driven by a surge of chemicals in the brain, such as dopamine and norepinephrine, which are associated with pleasure and excitement. The intense emotions can also lead to changes in behavior, such as constantly thinking about the person, seeking out their presence and attention, or going out of our way to impress them. Can you relate? Come on... hands up! Despite its intensity, infatuation is often fleeting, (although not always).  As time passes, the initial rush of emotions typically subsides, allowing for a more balanced and realistic view of the person.  Ideally, this transition will lead to the development of a deeper, more enduring love.  ‘Real love’, this time.  In other cases, the feelings may simply fade, leaving a sense of clarity and, sometimes, a recognition of the idealisation that occurred.  And in some unfortunate situations, the extreme feelings remain but only crop up intermittently.  The relationship becomes a sort of rollercoaster ride – whereby we can experience moments of extreme highs; the crazy adolescent love scenarios, like you’re in your own little world where nothing else matters but the two of you, followed by intense lows where disappointment and extreme feelings of ‘let down’ hit hard.  That’s reality coming face to face with those unrealistic expectations we’d created.  If only we could accept that disappointment, and make peace with the fact that the person in front of us isn’t actually what we’d dreamt them up to be, and perhaps it’s just not the right fit for us.  But chances are… we can’t.  Those thoughts are temporary and short-lived.  Intermittent reinforcement being the key detonator here - they come back, saying all the right things, and feeding into our desperation, another moment of intense intimacy, making us once again feel seen and whole… and just like that the next wave of dopamine hits us, making it inconceivable that this shouldn’t be the right person for us.  Understanding infatuation is important, as it can help us navigate our emotions more effectively. Recognizing the signs of infatuation and distinguishing them from genuine love can prevent misunderstandings and unrealistic expectations in relationships. It allows for a more mindful approach to romance, where emotions are acknowledged but also tempered with a realistic perspective on the person and the relationship.  But how?  How many of us can honestly say we go into a new relationship with a cautious and calculated approach?  Doesn’t that take the passion, excitement and romance out of it?  Does that mean we don’t get to feel the butterflies, the rush of adrenaline or that extreme feeling of elated excitement when we believe to have met ‘The One’? It is perhaps, precisely this, which is the problem.  The concept of romantic love.  We have been raised in a society that feeds us romantic comedies and Hollywood love stories as a way of life.  We grow up believing that finding our ‘other half’ and settling down is our main objective in life.  I myself am guilty of this.  I’ll be the first to admit it.  I truly believe life ‘lacks spark’ if I don’t have a special someone at my side.  I feel that nothing is as enjoyable, it all feels rather pointless, and my world seems to lack colour somehow.  How did I get to thinking this way?  At what point during my upbringing, did I learn that I needed to have a ‘special someone’ by my side in order to be happy or to feel complete?  Romantic love has been and continues to be an inexhaustible source of inspiration in popular culture. From Shakespeare's tragedies like "Romeo and Juliet" to Hollywood movies and contemporary love songs, this type of love is celebrated, questioned, and constantly reimagined.  It is a concept that we desperately need to unlearn for our own sanity and wellbeing.    

I read a post the other day about a French girl, who expressed her frustration, indignation and hurt when subjected over and over throughout her life to the same question: ‘Where are you from?’.  Because of the colour of her skin, they automatically assume and insinuate she’s from elsewhere.  As she explains in her post, she was born in France, both her parents are of French nationality, Guadeloupean father and French born mother.  Yes, her ancestors, over hundreds of years ago, were driven out of Africa to become slaves in French colonies.  But the history of her ancestors isn’t representative of the person she is today.  HER history is French.  Born and raised in France.  So why insinuate she should be from elsewhere because of her appearance?

I, myself, have experienced the same kind of pre-conceived judgement my entire life.  Not because I’m black, but similarly, because of the colour of my hair and skin.  I look British or Scandinavian or from somewhere further north.  Despite having grown up here in Spain and speaking with a local accent like my native peers, people judge on appearance and make you feel like you don’t really belong, whether it's intentional or not.  Here’s a little of my story:  I was born in the UK to an English father and an Irish mother.  They moved to Spain when I was teeny-tiny.  Although I spoke English at home, I first learnt to read and write in Spanish.  I grew up with both languages, and I suppose to an extent, was exposed to both cultures throughout.  However, I was very much brought up in Spanish society.  I had never known any other home than this Spanish land.  At the age of 19 I applied to university in the UK.  When I arrived, it was very much an ‘overseas experience’ for me.  There were colloquial expressions I was unfamiliar with, local accents that I hadn’t heard before and was fascinated by, and the whole experience was eye opening.  My new British friends would laugh at me because basic knowledge of food, shop products, restaurants, geography and things they took for granted were all new to me, and I came across as incredibly naïve.  I looked and sounded like I could be from there, but I clearly wasn’t.  I was quickly assigned the nick-name ‘Spanish Hels’.   So, throughout my university days, I was considered ‘Spanish’.  An exotic foreigner, if you will – from that country which consists of tropical beaches and 12 months of sun! (*insert endless eye rolling emojis*).  Newsflash – I actually grew up in the north of Spain, where there are a few beautiful beaches, granted, but they are certainly not tropical.  And even in mid-summer, you’re not always guaranteed the sunshine.   My point is – the naivety of these Brits and their lack of knowledge about what Spain really was like, placed me firmly as a Spaniard on British turf and not the other way round.  And ‘going home’ to Spain in the holidays never ever stopped feeling like ‘going home’. 

But… plot twist – back ‘home’ in Spain, I am and always have been a foreigner; ‘una guiri’.  For those of you who haven’t heard the term, it’s similar to how the British refer to Americans as ‘Yanks’ or to the French as ‘Frogs’.    It’s not necessarily shockingly insulting, but certainly derogatory.  They would take one look at me with my fair hair, light eyes and pale skin, and assume I can’t possibly be from Spain. 
I appreciate how I must be sounding rather defensive...  I do understand the logic behind their thinking, and I can also accept that when they make such assumptions, and even joke using the ‘guiri’ term, they probably aren’t meaning to offend...
But here’s the thing, throughout our lives, we do a lot of soul searching.  ‘Get to know yourself, be yourself, find your own identity…’  All great advice but it takes a lot of time and effort to achieve.  From very early on, we tend to just want to ‘fit in’.  That’s the feeling I recall having from a very young age.  I hated being ‘different’.  It was always reason to be pointed at.  And that wasn’t a good feeling.  We strive to find our place in the world; a sense of belonging.  But what happens when it’s not black and white?  When the colour of your skin suggests you don’t belong here where you were raised, and yet you weren’t raised in the land where your skin and hair tone match the vast majority of the population’s. Then what?  Where do you belong? And how do you fight that feeling of rejection or feeling like an outsider when someone makes a ‘comical’ comment?