Anxiety is often considered the result of uncertainty about the future, whilst depression can arise from a bleak outlook on what lies ahead. Though these are simplistic notions of mental health issues, they can be useful starting points in distilling how mental wellbeing is affected by our perception of what’s to come. During the covid-19 pandemic, our familiar routines and plans for the future have fallen away, leaving nothing but the uncertainty of the present. This has led to an exacerbation of mental health issues, as over half of adults and two-thirds of young people said their mental health got worse during the first lockdown in April and May of 2020*. These issues continue to embed themselves amidst loneliness and uncertainty, as we’re now one year into these long periods of isolation. One of the main factors which affects our ability to nurture our own wellbeing, is a lack of human contact. As social creatures, we not only want, but need, to speak to a variety of other people in order to organise our thoughts. Now, unable to speak to friends or access therapists as easily, our thoughts become muddled and heightened – including those anxious or upsetting ones. A way in which we can deal with this mental discordance is to organise and communicate through other means, one that doesn’t necessarily involve anyone else, yet allows us a form of social therapy nonetheless: writing. Journaling is one approach to writing for your wellbeing, focussing on the sole purpose of addressing your thoughts and feelings throughout the day. Although it may seem trivial to begin with, writing down your musings or recollections is a useful exercise in discipline and reflection. You can type your ideas, or write by hand, because the benefit stems from making the exercise work for you. Whether you write two lines, or two pages, a day, ensure that you’re getting what you want from your journal. There are endless journal prompts online, on sites such as Pinterest and Tik Tok. You may want to write about your worries, or even what you’re grateful for. You’ll find that putting your feelings down on a page helps allow yourself to let go of the stresses of the day. Not only is journaling ideal for documenting ideas and emotions, but it also allows us to remember what we got up to. This helps separate the days from the weeks that all seem to merge into one another. Journaling can be an important exercise in mindfulness as well as memory. If quiet meditation isn’t your style, there’s always the option to blog your way through lockdown. Many people have turned to blogging as a way of coping and connecting during isolation. Setting up a blog is really easy, and ideal for reaching out to a select few people, or a wider audience. Whether you want to share what you’ve been cooking, write opinion pieces, short stories, or simply post about your day, there’ll always be readers who are keen to connect. Blogging can be a simple way to find people who are going through the same things as you, to learn from each other and feel less lonely. Whilst writing about your life may have some appeal, it’s not for everyone. During a pandemic, you probably feel like you’re trapped in Groundhog Day. We’re caught in a loop of waking up, working, eating, working, then perhaps baking a lockdown banana bread – if we’re not all sick of them by now. The joy of writing is that it allows you reflection, but also an escape. If you can’t think of anything worse than writing about your day, then fiction and storytelling is a glorious solution. Personally, reading has provided me with some much-needed grounding throughout this year, which may sound odd, as books are generally thought of as a way to escape to another world. They serve as my primary source of inspiration for writing. I find reading engaging, as it is an active process, unlike watching TV or scrolling on my phone. The act of reading forces us to build the story world ourselves; therefore challenges the reader to move, mentally, from that spot on the sofa they haven’t left since last March. Reading is a great exercise in restoring mental wellbeing, whether it’s an indulgent romance, or War and Peace, the point should be that you enjoy it. No one can judge your choices. It’s called reading for pleasure, for a reason. Reading is undoubtedly the best source of inspiration for your own writing, as it can provide you with endless ideas and creative goals. To extend the act of reading, writing your own stories can be rewarding when you’re looking for a new challenge. The beauty of both reading and writing, is that no one needs to know what you choose to read, or produce, if you don’t want to share it. Some people make time to write in the morning, whilst others opt for tapping away on their laptop through the night. Writing provides a way of escaping everyday routine, whilst taking a moment to be present. Whether you decide to engage in journaling, blogging or writing stories, each way you choose to express yourself and your creativity is equally valid. You have nothing to lose from putting aside half an hour of your day to explore what’s going on in your head, behind the scenes. Regardless of the method that works for you, you’re sure to unveil some of the inner workings of your mind. Often, we’re not even aware of the thoughts that linger on our subconscious, as lockdown has switched us into autopilot. Whilst it is speculated that anxiety is a fear of the unknown, and depression is a lack of hope about the future, writing allows us to reflect logically on the past, and look to fantastical imaginings of what could be. Through writing, we can find ways to engage with those around us, even when they’re not near; and our
Tag: writing
Look north for winter wellness
An article about Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) If the sun is needed for life to exist, then that explains why so many of us currently struggle to even get out of bed in the morning. Winter brings us many things: fluttering snowflakes, carol singers, and the warming scent of cocoa. It also limits our sun exposure so much that they had to give the soul-crushing negative impact its own name. Seasonal Affective Disorder, or SAD, occurs when winter hits and the sun only lights the UK sky for as little as six hours per day. If you work in an office, you’ll know this means travelling there and back in dreary darkness, during a season that feels more like a never-ending night. When the gloom of SAD descends, symptoms include depression, low energy and a lack of creativity. But the glow at the end of the tunnel may actually be a northern light. Arctic sections of Finland, Norway, Greenland and other freezing Polar territories have literally no sunlight – at all – for up to three months in winter. Due to their geographical position, this also means a corresponding season of uninterrupted daylight in the summer (I can’t recommend visiting the Lapland region in July – when you can sunbathe at 3am – highly enough!). The culture in these far-north lands is largely a response to extreme solar shifts. Inhabitants fortify themselves against the lights going out, with traditions and a hardy mindset we can all learn from. In Scandinavia, people live with some of the darkest, longest winters, yet are consistently ranked as the happiest people in the world. Scientist Kari Leibowitz, of Stamford University, moved to the Norwegian town of Tromsø, 200 miles north of the Arctic Circle, to study this. She described the mindset as: “People view winter as something to be enjoyed, not something to be endured.” In what seems like an inversion of the way most of us view the year, a dark winter can actually be the happiest of all seasons. The coldest months are when Scandinavia dazzles, with the vibrant aurora borealis colouring the sky above silent, stretching snowscapes. And while that may not sound anything like the drab December scene outside your front door, there are seasonal Scandi secrets you can adopt to stave off the winter blues. Embrace the dying light by becoming as “outdoorsy” as possible. While northern folk get active with long-distance skiing and sleds pulled by huskies, you can hop on your bike for a brisk ride round your local park. It’s all about getting the most out of the precious light. And once the sun goes down, those in proximity to the pole have more creative ideas. “Hygge” (pronounced “Hoo-ga”) is a Danish or Norwegian word for an ideal mood of cosiness, comfort and contentment, created by a snug atmosphere when sheltering from sub-zero weather. There’s no direct English translation, as we don’t have the same extreme blackouts to fight back against, but Brits can channel it to shut out the darkest UK days. Knitted, chunky throw blankets and candles should adorn your living space, to achieve this nourishing atmosphere of wellness. Add oversized sweaters, thick socks and a flickering fireplace and hygge will be achieved. Yes, there are those with winters much harsher than ours, so it makes sense to borrow their soul-warming answers. Then, when you emerge in spring, you’ll be stronger for surviving the season and ready for a rebirth of creativity. This post was written by Declan Harte. Declan is a journalist and author, and is driven by his passion for creating a safe and healthy platform for those with mental health conditions and disabilities. In his spare time, Declan is a wonderfully committed volunteer on Be Extra’s Marketing Team.
The pandemic has had many of us turning to new and familiar past times, as we consider what to do with all the time that we have spare- the time that we’d usually spend going out, seeing friends or travelling. While it sometimes seems that we’re just filling the gaps until the madness is all over, I wonder if there is anything we can learn from these changes. I myself have turned to reading. I was a massive bookworm as a teenager and my University degree mostly revolved around literature, so reading novels wasn’t exactly new to me. However, it was an activity that I’d lost since leaving University because I had been tied down by a fresh career and by the need to be sociable with friends and go out as much as possible. But there I was in Spring 2020: off work, bored and looking to make the most of my tiny but sunny garden. Being cooped up inside wasn’t something that I enjoyed, and I couldn’t always amass the energy to go walking all day. On my book shelf I saw I had Du Maurier’s Rebecca and the latter half of Thackeray’s Vanity Fair to complete- books I’d been given for previous birthdays and Christmases but had tossed aside during my busy life. Sitting tranquilly outside and enjoying the quiet felt very unfamiliar; but once I got used to it, it gave me a feeling of peace and harmony that I had been lacking. I wondered how many other people must be sat silently reading like me or regaining a hobby that they’d lost before lockdown. I wondered if reading fiction was only a temporary sanctuary; but I hoped that it would continue past the pandemic. The whirlwind suspense of Rebecca and the comical and satirical tone of Vanity Fair’s narrator were great sources of distraction to me and I felt transported somewhere else. But it was when I read Gale’s work that I realised that reading fiction in a pandemic isn’t a mere evasion. Take Nothing with You is about a young cellist entering the music world and discovering himself through his artistic experiences. I am a cellist myself and used to play in all kinds of ensembles, so this book brought back a lot of memories for me. Reading about the orchestra residentials, master classes and instrument shopping made me think of many moments in my past that I’d enjoyed but forgotten over the years. At first, I felt a sad kind of nostalgia but then it made me consider what was important to me, what really made me happy and what I wanted to get out of life once the pandemic was over. As the weather takes a turn, you may find me wrapped up by the fire reading a Christmas novel as I try to get my myself in the mood for the festive season. I am hoping to broaden my horizons beyond the novel and take a look at some poetry or theatre. There remains a heap of discarded books in my bedroom and, now that I am glad to have regained a lost hobby, I look forward to opening these up. I used to think of literature as a creative depiction of the outside world and a revelation of who people really are and how they behave. At the start of lockdown, I saw it as a means of escape. At present, I understand literature to be an opportunity for self-reflection. I suppose not just literature, but the act of reading itself and as artists, I think it is a pleasure to discover books that make us think about our experiences within the arts. The interlocutor of Rebecca finishes the novel by telling us that she will learn from her negative experiences as a shy young person to become a more confident and resilient person. Like many of us, I had a difficult 2020 and, when I think about this book, it gives me a feeling of hope. Patrick studied French at Oxford, having graduated last year, and is a big supporter of the Arts. He is a keen cellist, theatre goer, and volunteers at a museum in his spare time. He is one of our amazing team of volunteers, working as an Arts Administrator and PA to the CTO .