Slachtemarathon & The Marathon Motivation

Photo courtesy
of my friend
Marleen

“Sometimes you've got to go through hell to get to heaven.” 

― Dean Karnazes, Ultramarathon Man: Confessions of an All-Night Runner

Breaking 6* in Slachtemarathon

Yes, I plan to run the Slachtemarathon in it's next edition (2020).

Here it is. A goal. 

Sharing for all to know.  

A scary moment.

A liberating moment.

An invigorating moment.

*run a marathon under 6 hours; run below 6'00'' average pace during training

Smiling through a painful moment...
Shortly before this picture was taken,
I decided not to continue the 42 km goal but step out at 21 km.

I waited for the first time at the finish line of a shared race for my friend to finish.

Life Before Running

Most of you, who have been following me from the beginning, know I have been diagnosed with bipolar disorder in 2003.   

Before my diagnosis, I  silently went through cycles of depression.  Decades.  The shame of what I was going through again and again, paralysed and silenced me. 

It began when I was a child.  I did not know of course what it was, then. I simply thought I was a very sensitive person.  There was a point in my puberty, when I contemplated studying Psychology to help myself and not have to tell anyone, the emotional & mental torture I went through.

I did not tell my family and friends, how it was affecting the quality of my life because I did not want to be judged, nor be seen as weak and helpless.  

Everything changed, when I became a mother of two, living in a foreign country.  Being silent about my situation was no longer an option.  I was no longer responsible for myself alone.

Sharing my situation to the people I love, and seeking professional help were the first brave small steps to a long, and still ongoing journey.

Marathon = Motivation

Miraculously along this journey, I found  running.   

Specifically, I discovered how the discipline marathon training demand, was something very powerful, which helps me overcome the symptoms of my disorder.

My beloved P, always there for me.

After finishing Berlin Marathon for the second time, I promised myself, that  I will try harder to be even more transparent about my running, the training process and most importantly, why running is so important to me,  and my mental health.

My blog readers, my social media followers : family, friends -  running friends - very loyal and long time supporters have helped boost my confidence and strengthened my resolve to be more courageous in sharing.  Sharing about mental health issues.

Completing the Berlin Marathon project was a 4 year process.  In hindsight, it did not begin in the last week of  January, 2017 but it began right after I finished Paris Marathon 2013.  The year a "simple injury" not only affected me physically but a great deal of my mental capacity to run.

I did not give up. I did not let depression, mental blocks, anxiety attacks take away the joy and hope I discovered marathon running and all it compasses gave me.

Depression can negatively affect and change your life completely.  

It is up to you, if you will let  the mental disorder you are diagnosed with take over or you fight with everything you got to regain your life.

You Are Not Alone

The past few days have been a roller coaster of emotions.  Life and personal crisis.

Even though I try to rein in racing thoughts, and overreaction to stressful situations with the help of running and meditation, I was still revisited by old demons: anxiety, self-doubt and panic attack.

I will lie if I tell you, I am able to brush them off easily now, after decades of trying to learn how to deal with them.

The process remains a challenge.  Dealing with one's mental health remains a continuous learning process.

A major difference in my process compared to 25 years ago: I no longer feel completely alone.

Correct that: I no longer allow the disorder to convince me I am alone.

I know, there are many, countless people I can turn to, who are there to help (professionally), who supports and believes in me (my friends and family),  who will be there for me no matter what (my mom, my stepfather, my brothers, my partner, and our kids).

The only thing I have to do is reach out.

Slachtemarathon 2020

Slachtemarathon 2016 became a symbol of hope and love for me.  I was afraid to participate but I did it anyway. I was afraid that even if I work hard, I would not be good enough.  I did not reach the ultimate goal of finishing the 42.195 km distance.  I made it half-way.  I did not finish my fourth full marathon in Summer of 2016.

What I was able to accomplish, when I went to the start after months of preparation, was face my fear(s) and live to conquer the next and the next.  What Slachtemarathon 2016 gave me was the fighting spirit to finish my fourth full marathon in Summer of 2017.

I am dedicating the project of Slachtemarathon 2020 to a wonderful generous friend, a runner I utterly respect and highly admire: this is for you, M.  I will conquer my mental blocks, and face a great personal challenge (committing to a long-term goal!)  with you in mind! :)

You believed in me. You made me believe in me. 

Thank you for believing in me.  Thank you for Slachtemarathon 2016 (I will never forget all your generous help & unwavering support!)!  Thank you for being a good friend.

28.10.17

Saturday

16:12

Run Happy & Free To Be #metoo

Disclaimer: This is not a running story.  It is a story, shedding more light, why I am grateful to have found running, why it gives me so much strength, and why the positive effect of running is a necessity to my life.

It is a sensitive blogpost, and could be triggering because of the subjects:

sexual abuse, child abuse. 

Please read at your own discretion. 

Marathon Rotterdam 2015
taken by a friend

“Sometimes it takes heart to write about a thing, doesn't it? To let that thing out of the room way in the back of your mind and put it up there on the screen.” 

― Stephen King, Gerald's Game

#metoo

As I write this, it has no title yet, and  I am not sure, if I will share it to be read publicly.

It is a story, I've shared many times over to a very select group of people.  I can count them with the fingers of my two hands.  No more.

Sharing is healing. I was told.  Many times. In my private circle. In different rooms of therapists.

How much of your story can you share to heal? How often can you share to heal? How long does it take until you heal? How can you heal without hurting others you love?

I began sharing this story in instalments. When I was 9-10 years old to a female cousin, who was 2 years older than I was. Not the entire story but 1 % of the story. It was a question burning in my mind.  Why would someone do that act? I asked.

Why?

It is a question that followed my life for 39 years.


Why?

Why did he do it? Why did it happen? Why did I not say anything after it did? Why did the memory of how it began stayed with me but not how I walked away in the end?  Why did I not say no before it began?

I was 6-7 years old, when someone I knew sexually abused me.

Reading, Fairytales & Stephen King

When I was little, I was very fascinated with words.  I looked at them with awe even before I could read them.

Books would be my friends before I lost my innocence, and reading, my saviour after my childhood was stolen from me.

I kept what happened to myself until I was 21 years old, already living abroad,  engaged after a whirlwind romance, and told the story to my fiancé before we got married.

Before it happened, I read about monsters in fairytales.  My childhood nightmares would be during the daytime.   It was in the morning, when it happened.  I was afraid but I could not go anywhere, nor tell anyone.  Would it happen, again?

Recently, I watched the film adaptation of Stephen King's book Gerald's Game, on Netflix. The book was the last book I bought (1992) before I left my home country in the Philippines (January, 1993). I never finished the book.

I cannot remember  the reasons why I did not finish it , nor even made it half-way, and I now wonder if reading it in it's entirety  would have made an impact on me.  

"He did not touch me." - Jessie Burlingame, Gerald's Game, on Netflix

I cried when I watched the painful scene reminding me of my own shame, my long kept secret.  The words the lead character uttered as she came out of her trance from recalling her suppressed memory liberated me. Cathartic words.

"He did not touch me."

Not the first time.  I was an instrument.  I was an object.

I swatted his hand with mine the second time another shameful act transpired.

I was 9 then. I knew more. I knew better. Books.  Sadly, I progressed too fast from fairytales to books, which I read in secret, in search for answers..

Both times he was drunk. 

25 years later, I would learn, he might have been under the influence of drugs, when it happened.

It took 15 years to share 50% of the story to the person, I thought I would grow old with.  Another 10 years and a year of therapy to finally tell it to the one person who I thought would have the answers.

Forgetting and Forgiving?

At the beginning of this story, I wrote a lot of  questions:

How much of your story can you share to heal? How often can you share to heal? How long does it take until you heal? How can you heal without hurting others you love?

Why did he do it? Why did it happen? Why did I not say anything after it did? Why did the memory of how it began stayed with me but not how I walked away in the end?  Why did I not say no before it began?

I'm 45 years old, and it took me almost my whole life time to understand what happened to me. What helped me to help myself was stories I read.  Fiction and non-fiction stories.  Personal stories of people, who've been there.

Why it happened to me is something I would never know. I would never get the answer from the person, who stole my childhood.

What set me free from asking that question (Why?!) again and again, was learning he was as tortured as I was.

I would never know if it evil in him, or they were only two isolated aberrations  influenced by drugs and alcohol, which clouded his mind, his judgement.

"Nothing else happened to me" beside those 2 incidents.  It is something that I kept repeating, when I had nightmares.  Nothing else with that person.  Two more incidents happened to me between the age 7-9. Neighbouring boys. A lot of boys; they were not even 2-3 years older than I was. An older male neighbour.  Again, I was not physically abused. My mind on the other hand? Traumatised.  I was exposed to things I should not have seen nor experienced in my age. I suffered in silence.

People perceived me as happy, confident and vivacious  on the outside but in my head I had issues with trust, a lot of bottled up anger, shame and self-hate.  It took years to exorcise all of them out of my system.

What I learned  in the years I tried to find answer to my Why? is : silence is not the answer.  You can let yourself be heard.  I kept silent, when I was young because I wanted to protect the people I love.

This pattern of protecting others broke me mentally. It was when I was completely broken that I finally uttered the words I needed to say out loud: it was not my fault, I was a child, I was afraid, I was alone.  I was in my 40's, when I finally said these words out loud.

You cannot forget something you have not even fully acknowledged.  You cannot fully forgive, unless you are fully liberated and in a happy place in life.

Free To Be Me

A picture taken by my daughter
during my run last Monday.

I was waiting to be an ultra-runner before I share this story.

I was waiting to be *someone*, who has accomplished something remarkable, so I can be heard.

I had this absurd notion, that I would be braver if I am *someone*, and sharing this story to others will help not only others but in the end heal me completely.

Now, I realise I was repeating a pattern.  I thought I was creating an armour but in reality my armours are cloaks to make me feel unseen and safe; I was not yet as free from the past as I thought I am.

I am enough.

I can let myself be seen.

I can let myself be heard.


Now.

I don't have to punish myself, anymore. No more hiding. No more secret. No more shame.


What happened to me did not stop me from living life.  I became a wife, a mother, a writer, a runner.

What happened to me did not stop me from pursuing my dreams.  I went to the university, studied Communication, learned skills that helped me understand people better and make others understand me. I  travelled the world to learn more, and  find answers to more of life's questions.

What happened to me did not stop me from writing stories to spread the message of love.

Yes, what happened to me affected the quality of my life, my health; my mental health. It also made me stronger. It has taught me after years and years of searching for peace to be more compassionate.  Specially to myself.

What happened to me should not happen to any child. Sadly, the reality is alarming. It happens.  There are monsters out there preying on the innocents but there are also monsters within the people we love.


My plea:  be aware, be vigilant, be kind.

Help those who struggle mentally. Alcohol and drug abuse are not only the struggle of one person with addiction, nor one family but the community, the society.

Yes, kindness and involvement can be very risky in the modern world but it's worth it.

A concerned, caring word can make a huge difference. Care.

Creat awareness; it should not be under-estimated. Have courage to share your story. The process can heal you, and help many others, too.

19.10.17

Thursday

14:40

20.10.17

Friday

08:50

P.S.  It is now almost 15 hours, since I published this story. I would like to share to readers out there, how I felt peace after putting into words what happened to me. I feel at peace with sharing my story, here. 

I would like to be honest and say, I don't know if I would have done anything differently, looking back.  If a reader would ask me, what should I do? I would say, seek help and don't suffer in silence. I think, it is the main message what I would like to pass on.

In this modern times, there are a lot of ways to seek help anonymously.  It is a beginning, a huge step to put in words something that is unspeakable. A small step can lead to positive changes.

Feel free to contact me, if you need assistance. I am not an expert but perhaps I can assist in finding help.

Before Berlin Marathon 2012

This photo, taken on the 2nd of June, 2012
 was originally shared on my other blogsite:

My Daily Mooosings in the Netherlands
in the blog

Consoling the Mind & Heart At Kinderdijk

Childhood is the most beautiful of all life's seasons. ~Author Unknown

Running was once an innocent childhood dream. Running a marathon was once an impossible dream to focus on, instead of letting myself be drained by a mental health disorder. Running Berlin marathon became a symbol of hope, a symbol for a new beginning.

In a series of blogs, I would like to look back to a year of preparing for Berlin Marathon 2012, the 5 running years in between and the 9 months towards Berlin Marathon 2017.

 Writing is Healing

Before I created Happy Feet in the Netherlands (January, 2012), I blogged at My Daily Mooosings in the Netherlands.

In hindsight, I could say: making the decision of creating that blog would be a huge chapter in the story  of how I finally began with running.

“Sometimes you don’t know when you’re taking the first step through a door until you’re already inside.” 
― Ann Voskamp

Welcome (To Our) Home!

Reading through the old blogs at My Daily Mooosings in the Netherlands ("snippets of our life in the Netherlands" 2011-2015 )  is not easy for me, if I would be completely open and honest.  

I continue to have conflicting emotions - pride and shame - when I revisit.  

Pride swells in my heart, when I see the numbers of posts in the archive ; I made it through a long difficult period of life (2006-2015)  through steadfastly focusing on the positive aspects of my life.  

The shadow of shame continue to lurk in the corner of my mind, waiting to block it from putting into words, thoughts and feelings, which I need to express about the past and the present.  

Expressing thoughts and feelings liberates me, time and time again. Even with this knowledge, every time I hold a pen, or sit in front of the screen, it  still often takes a long time for me to begin.  

I read passages of old blogs, which were written in the times I knew I struggled mentally.  

In 2003, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder after finally seeking help for my debilitating depression, which I silently kept to myself for 9 years.

Each blog, which seems confusing was my attempt to "function" in our new home, to record a new beginning in life, as positively as I could.  Sometimes I was able to do so successfully, more often it felt like being in a muddled mind of a drowning person. 

Blogging was my tool to get myself out of a negative state of mind.  A state depression pushes you in, and imprisons you  in for unpredictable time span.

I posted blogs to connect with my words, even if I intellectually and physically could not. Not everyone can comprehend the state of depression unless they have gone through it themselves.

Blogging, documenting, creative-writing were  my personal mental exercises, my "self-therapy", so I could focus on the good side of life, not lose my grip in life, and to keep going until depression no longer had it's grip on me.

From Writing to Running

Writing achieved what I hoped it would. It took me out of the internal isolation, everyone who suffers from cycles of depression struggles with.

“When faced with a radical crisis, when the old way of being in the world, of interacting with each other and with the realm of nature doesn't work anymore, when survival is threatened by seemingly insurmountable problems, an individual life-form -- or a species -- will either die or become extinct or rise above the limitations of its condition through an evolutionary leap.” ― Eckhart Tolle

I discovered blogging for myself in 2006, and  initially did so anonymously.  5 years later, I created a public blog.

Anonymous blogging in 2006 helped me find my voice in writing, again. No longer silent, no longer keeping everything in; I was "nameless" but not emotionless.

Our move from a big city in Germany to a quaint village in the Netherlands in 2009, was the impulse I needed to write under my own name. After 2 years period of adjusting to daily  life in Holland, I had the focus to create a blogsite ; the initial purpose was to have a place to share pictures and stories to our family and friends all over the globe.

Participating in blog community activities such as month long blogging, helped motivate me to go outdoors.

My Little Corner of Creativity

Once outdoors, I wanted to do more than walk and bike. 

I wanted to run.

Every time I found some relief, my bipolar disorder catches up on me.  

Series of intense anxiety and panic attacks soon joined my depressive cycles, after we moved in Holland. I would not  understand all of this, not until 2 years ago.

Running became a vehicle for me to be physically outdoors even if I was struggling mentally. I had "a legitimate excuse" not to engage in spontaneous interactions, when outside.  

People who knows me of long standing, and even those I met for the first time, will never think I have social anxiety, or become distress about social situations. 

I myself never thought I would experience panic attacks for a simple dinner get together, a date with a friend, school events or later on even in running events, after already running races countless of times.

From 5K - Full Marathon

Followers of my blog, my different social media channels, always ask me the same question: how can you still smile after running?!

I felt, I can write for years and years and I will never be able to put in words, how running and reaching the finish line each and every time,  gives me hope, happiness and a heart that feels so alive.

This blog and many other blogs I've written, is my attempt again and again to give life to the story of my life.  A story I would like to share to those out there, who feels hopeless in life, devoid of happiness, and heartbroken because life feels so painful each time they breathe.

28th of August 2011
My first 5K race
(Mom in Balance Pink Run)
in Amsterdam Bos

24th of September, 2017
My fourth marathon!

Berlin Marathon

Running 2011

The goal to run a short distance in a huge marathon event, and finish in the Amsterdam Olympic stadium was the first step of Happy Feet in the Netherlands towards Berlin Marathon 2012.

8th of August, 2011
I walked 8 km
on my first day of training
to run
8 km distance at
TCS Amsterdam Marathon

28th of August, 2011

20 days after I walked 8 km
I ran my first official 5K race
in 44:58
being the 54th finisher out of 62 women

I replaced my ASICS from 2003,
after my 5K race with this pair in 2011,
which I ran with in my first
(8K) Amsterdam Marathon

In 2015, I created a blog series to help me with writing unshared race recaps of 2011 -2014.

The Running 2011 blog, summarised in images my first months of building up my mileage towards running my aspired first marathon.


I successfully build up every month from August to November, running each month a race in succession : 5K , 6.4 km, 8 km, 9 km, 10K.


A harmless comment from a race volunteer in my first 10K race (my first "last runner" race), a  yearly Winter cold, and in hindsight the beginning of anxiety attack for races made me skip the 15K race.   I was very excited to run a 15 km race to successfully end the year 2011; my first very exciting 4 months of running. 


Bruggenloop is a 15K race I will eventually run, after my panic attack of 2011, for 4 consecutive years.


Since I was not able to run the 15K race, my initial enthusiasm  (ambitious in the eyes of many, who did not know me, my reasons for running and my personal motivation) and confidence to be able to run a marathon within 6 months was dented.  This "unaccomplished" goal will haunt me in years to come and it will affect my running both positively and negatively.


Instead of going to Rome to stubbornly attempt what others thought was impossible, I invited 3 other enthusiastic runners, who are now good friends to run a marathon relay with me in Hamburg.  It was the first edition of running in teams to complete the marathon distance in 27th edition of the Hamburg marathon event.

Hamburg Marathon 2012

Thank you for reading this far!  :) 

I can't wait to look back, and share each race recaps from August 2011 - September 2012.

It would be a great pleasure to know if you are reading along! Please leave a comment.  OR share this to a friend, you feel could use a story to give them encouragement to keep going.

06.10.17

Friday

13:04

What's Up Buttercup?

Before I publish BACK TO BERLIN Week 13 - 17 marathon training updates, I had to write a post "glueing" these weeks to Week 18. 

One of my mini-goals on the way to running the Berlin Marathon 2017 is to have a "seamless" documentation of my marathon training. 

I have not been able to (personally) satisfactorily achieve this in the 3 previous marathons (2012: Berlin, Amsterdam; 2013:Paris) I finished. Nor did it happen in my attempts after 2013.

Marathon training had often helped me successfully implement changes in my life, which I struggled to realise or was too mentally blocked to complete.   There is something about the structure of marathon training that makes me, simply put : get things done; things, which  I usually procrastinate on.

One of the many things on my "get it done list" is to write a blog post shortly after a difficult period during marathon training.

A blog going back to business but also acknowledging the fact, I went through a depressive episode.
A blog sharing how I got over it, how I am moving on, how recording my process helps me, and how I hope sharing it will help others, may they derive strength from it, during their own difficult period. 

Writing after recovering from a mental health issue, is a ritual (before blogging, I wrote in my personal journals), I often - very often! - skip. After many years, I realized it is necessary for me to write recovery thoughts to help myself heal faster and prevent relapses.

So, here we go.

a snapshot I took after yesterday's run, in between biking home

"The buttercups, bright-eyed and bold,

Held up their chalices of gold

To catch the sunshine and the dew."

- Julia C. R. Dorr, Centennial Poem, line 165.

Yesterday . . .

I ran my 47th training marathon training run in Spanderswoud. It was the hottest run I've ran so far in 2017.  Many said (I did not check the temperature) it was a 28 degrees Celsius day.

Besides the hot and humid climate of the day, what sets this run apart from all the other run was it's "unpredictability".  I changed every direction I took seconds after I checked in with my brain. 

"Mind Games; Meditation in Motion"

What does this mean? I'll try to explain it as simple as I can: the moment I am about to follow what I planned to do, I changed it seconds before I  put myself into action, towards the direction I have to go to follow "the plan".  

For example, yesterday, my route was Loodijk.  I also call it The Windmill route; this is my favourite 5K route.  There are no cars to watch out for, the roads are well maintained, and I can focus on a steady pace because there are not a lot of visual distraction. The path is for the most part, a straight meditative wide space.

After 5 years of running, I revised this route.  2017 5K Loodijk route goes like this: I bike out of our village (almost a mile), and park my bike in front of Restaurant Loodijk.  From there, I start running and as soon as I hit 3 km, I turn to go back the same direction I came from, and end my run at Restaurant De Molen.


My running schedule varies but I always seem to run this route while the restaurant is still closed.

This gives the opportunity to do a few easy short yoga poses in peace before I head back home. I love looking back at work out pictures with the windmill behind me. :)

I have come to call this windmill route my Zen zone.

Spanderswoud

So, how did I end up in Spanderswoud?  

Picnic with M in Spanderswoud
20th of April, 20117

M is personification of fun. Always full of ideas. Always a great energy to be with,

Left, Right, OR Straight Ahead ? Surprise!

I had to create a "Surprise!" moment for my brain to get it "excited", tickle my neurons out of it's inertia, shut the door to the interlopers mania and melancholia.

"Surprising my brain" - keeping it guessing - is  something I do, when my mental block becomes extremely hard to break through or I broke through a major mental block and I feel a new one coming on. 

Is it healthy to practice this method?  Is it counter-productive in the long run? These and many other questions are something I don't dwell on - yet.  It  is a method, that works for me, and as long as I don't have a better one, I will continue to use it.

How did I do this yesterday?

When I finally got myself out of the house, and on my bike, I turned right instead of biking straight on towards Loodijk.  This "surprising my brain in split second" was what I did the next 36 minutes and 44 seconds of my run in Spanderswoud.





It was fun because it was like going through my own spontaneous created maze.  The activity distracted me from obsessing about the heat.

Marathon Training: Week 15-17

2017 running stats, so far

I've been terribly struggling mentally since Week 15.  It was a rapid swing from bad to worst state of mind,  and the time of respite in between was not even sufficient to get back from bad to even a simple okay.

The same old story.  After weeks of great positive flow (14 weeks - not bad in hindsight!) , I dove and fell flat on my face and before I can utter the words, "Not this again!", I am physically weighed down by my depressed body.

This recent experience has led me to the decision of seeking help and taking medication once again, after almost a decade of doing without.

A Minute...

------------------------------------ just a minute, please ------------------------------

I write this post to have something to come back to.  

This is - as I often say in my blogs of the same mind-decluttering kind - not a self-pity party post, OR "I need help" silent cry in the internet (I will ask, if I do need help. Something I have learned the hard way, and practice as often as I can to not lose the skill...), or "look at me, look at how strong I am, and how I prevail...".

No.  This is a documentation. This is me hoping, what I document will help me in my process.  This is me hoping, what I document will help someone else in their process

------------------------------------ read on; thanks. :) -------------------------------

A minute of planking is a meditative minute

My Mind in a Basket (Case)

Sometimes I give myself the creeps
Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me
It all keeps adding up
I think I'm cracking up
Am I just paranoid?
A ya-ya-ya

Grasping to control
So I better hold on

- Green Day

Yesterday, I broke through my stubborn mental block (it started creeping in at Week 15 and it got worst between Week 16, and persisted in Week 17),   of going out for a  run.

I have another blog still in draft (written on the 4th of May), which I wrote when I was able to pull myself out of inertia mid-way through Week 15.

As soon as I have the time and peace to work on that blog again, I will continue to put in details the many things I did to help myself through this episode of depression.  I got a great run after writing that unpublished blog, in Week 17.

In brief, what always help me stay strong during my depression, and eventually help me recover, are these:

1. The knowledge, that I have been through the same thing, the same cycles before and manage to come out of it, again and again.  I've been recording my process in my journals since I was a teen-ager, and in 2006, I started writing blogs anonymously.  Between 2011-2012, is when I slowly publicly wrote blogs about how life is with with bipolar disorder, my rapid cycles of depression; how I deal with them and strive to focus on a simple life - a life with quality with my family.
2. The generous and unwavering support of my family, friends near and far, and kindred souls on the net, whom I have yet to meet in person but through the years, have been catalysts in helping me, help myself in ways that changed my life for the better.
3. Words of kindness.  Words of inspiration. Words of empowerment.  They are everywhere and we all receive them, when we meditate, pray, or ask the universe for them.
4. Baby steps.  This is powerful. If you've suffered from minor, major depression or have helped or witnessed someone who went through or is going through depression, you know each step, no matter how seemingly random, mediocre, or seemingly pointless - a step is a step. A step is a small movement towards improvement.
5. Helping others.  It seems ironic that at a time, I obviously need the help, thinking of helping others makes me get better.

Stop and Smell the Flowers...

“The earth laughs in flowers.” 
― Ralph Waldo Emerson

No. 5 on the list of what helps me stay strong and recover from depressive episodes, has come to be one of the main source of positive energy for me.

"Be there for others". These words are words I encounter  the most in my search to make sense of depression, living life with depression, making the best of life with depressive episodes and moving on and living a good in life in spite of scars left behind by each depressive cycles. 

Experts in mental health share this wisdom; people who went through with and still are dealing with mental health issues, when they share their experiences in books, or in various mental health websites - they all speak and write about : being there for others as a way to get yourself out of your head, and  out living life, as one should.

I know I am strong. I know there is a now, and a future for me, where the stories of how I face, and overcome my mental pain and struggles will help alleviate the pain and struggles of someone else.

Last night my partner - exhausted from a day of "everything went wrong" day at work - laid his head on my lap.  He told me for the hundredth time, how he enjoys me caressing his head, running the palm of my hand  up and down his back.  He sighed almost close to falling asleep, how my voice  (no matter, what I am talking about! :D) soothes him, and can put him to a peaceful slumber. 

As I ran my hand through his hair, and ran my palm up and down his back, I renewed a much repeated promise: I will share my story. Repeatedly. I will write my story.  Leave a written legacy for our girls, for those who need the story, for those  who want to understand, for those who do not want to feel alone.

A story of how someone never gave up, how no one should ever give up on life, and how  we can all keep finding ways to not let mental health issues become an enemy but a source of inspiration on being there for others, living, loving, persevering, understanding and sharing.

Sharing is Caring.

Do you have a story to share? Besides sharing your own keep moving stories, stories of helping and being a friend, do you have any other ways of "being there" for someone, who struggles (with or without mental health issues) ?  I always love to read and learn more from others and their experiences.

Please share your story, or questions in the comment box. OR send me a message via Facebook (click the link on the caption above or click on the link at the right side of this page to be redirected).  Or reach out via email: happyfeetinthenetherlands@gmail.com.

The story we share of helping others and ourselves can empower many.

HAPPY FEET IN THE NETHERLANDS

created 18th of  May, 2017 11:00