Bicycle mind
Up and down, round and round...
Damn. I knew this would happen.
In the two months since I started writing to you from the vale of woe, I’ve been quite well.
But I knew there was a good chance it wouldn’t last. I’ve been told I probably have cyclothymia1, which literally translates as “Cyclical Mind”. Ups and downs.
Actually I prefer “Bicycle Mind” as it suits me well: prone to spinning around in circles; happiest when freewheeling; liable to sudden deflation for no apparent reason; tire-d.
I’ve been coping with Bicycle Mind for quite a while now and know more or less what works when the old two-wheeler dumps me down in the vale of woe.
Here are 10 things I do to try and stay in the saddle.
Get up and get outside. No lying in, even if that insidious maggot insomnia has stolen into the bedroom again, sucking up all the sleep. There is evidence that daylight on the retina has antidepressant properties.
Walk. To the shops. The park. Round and about. With dog if one is available. Notice things.
Cook. It’s one of the things that gets me into “flow”, stops bicycle mind from whirring away.
Exercise (but don’t overdo it). Anything that gets the breathing strong and regular.
Cold water. A palpable short-term lift. When you’re submerged, everything is reduced to right here, right now. Afterwards, there’s a glow like you’ve just had a blood transfusion.
Read. I find autobiographies by people who have suffered great affliction particularly inspiring. If they can do it… I’m currently reading Rob Burrow’s moving book.
Meditate. I’m not sure how I’d cope without habitually sitting and observing… breath, body, sound, thoughts, and trying to treat everything that arises with equanimity.
Bath. A solid bath (or shower) mid-evening often helps if anxiety is twirling around on its tippy toes. Not too close to bedtime, because your body will need to cool gently in readiness for sleep.
Progressive muscle relaxation. A good way to prepare for bed. Deep breaths, muscles tensing and relaxing. Nice. Here’s a playlist.
Acceptance. The hardest one of all, but maybe the most important. True, radical acceptance of our frailty, our fragility, our lot, can be a tremendously powerful asset whatever your affliction. This is not the same as resignation or defeat. It is recognising that pain is what happens to you. Suffering is what you inflict on yourself by resisting.
Until next week
Also known as Bipolar III. Which makes it sound like a monarch. Perhaps a bit like Richard III - nasty, unpredictable and hopefully only in charge for a couple of years.