Living in the now - trendy or truth?

By Virginia Winder

“Live in the now,” is the catch cry of everyone from Oprah to psychologists, self-help specialists to Buddhist leaders.

There are books about it, YouTube videos on it and social meme expounding “be present”.

They are shared so often that they are in danger of becoming clichés, if they haven’t already.

So what is all this “be in the moment” movement all about and is it just a trendy thing to say? 

But it’s not a new idea.

Back in 500-something BC, Buddha said: “Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment.”

His words couldn’t be more relevant than now. Today we live a social-media-cell-phone-switched-on-selfie world, where our attention is constantly scattered. Let’s have a look at a familiar scenario.

Two friends, a man and a woman, are sitting in a café drinking coffee. Beside the man is his phone, which is constantly lighting up with alerts. Each time it does, he pauses and reads the screen, ignoring his old schoolmate. Then a text comes through and he answers it quickly, shutting her out as she shares about her job woes. In the face of his preoccupation she feels unimportant, annoyed and hollow.

   

On the other hand, her phone is on silent in her handbag. All of her attention is on her long-time friend and she leans forward as he talks about his latest break-up. She blocks out everyone in the café, even though she knows she’ll know a heap of people there. As a result, her buddy feels listened to, valued and replenished.

I’ve been guilty of being the bloke in this situation. Too often my children have complained I’m not listening to them and my husband has told me things I swear he’s never shared with me. I’ve been absent – immersed in reading something on my phone or being lost in my thoughts. I do dream a lot.

However, I would like to say that sometimes I can’t win when my son gets frustrated with me for not immediately answering a text. Like I don’t have a life. Like I couldn’t be driving, in the shower, at a movie, or god forbid, having a good time. But I digress.

So, to be a better wife, mother and friend, I’ve decided that when I’m with people I will fully focus on them. It’s a way of honouring these relationships by giving them all of me.

It’s not just about my phone and social media (which I am addicted to – oh the world it opens up for me in terms of news and stories), it’s about not drifting off in the middle of a conversation. It’s about being there. Totally.

And it’s about doing the same for myself.

Image: tattoos_by_zip

Sometimes getting lost in my thoughts can lead to downward spirals because I invent terrible scenarios that could happen in the future. Other times, I agonise over bad things that have happened in the past. Neither are helpful.

Living in this moment immediately stops the spiral. 

But again, what on earth does being present actually mean?

Alright, here we go. If I’m in the shower and start to get anxious about the day ahead, I focus on the warm water falling my body, breathe in the perfume of my shower gel, and open my mouth to taste the water. I am focused on my senses and suddenly the shower becomes a joyful experience.

When I write, I’m 100% present. Nothing else exists except my fingers tapping on the keyboard, the muse-releasing music in my ears and the words flowing on to the screen. There’s no place for yucky thoughts.

Doing art is the same, so is the process of making coffee and even driving. How many times have you followed the same route and got to your destination and not remembered any of the journey? That’s trance driving and not particularly safe. 

But I do allow myself to dream. Thoughts about writing are allowed to swirl through my mind, but only when I’m alone or in bed. I have a notebook with me all the time, so I can write down thoughts. You’ll see me at cafes in the next few months, pen scribbling over pages as I capture what I see.

Other places for total immersion in the now are swimming in surf, when the only thing that matters is the next wave. Or watching a TV programme or film with sub-titles (no time to play on your phone). Or at a dinner party with friends enjoying good food, great company and solving the problems of the world or belly-laughing. Or taking a flower photo.

Other ideas are to read a book, sit and listen to a whole music album, meditate, go walking or running, or dance at a concert. Soak it all in.

When I do an interview I’m totally there, full focused on my subjects and their story. Every single time I’ve done an interview, I have left feeling uplifted.

So my pledge to you is that, unless I meet you in the street and I’m running late, I will be with you. Now. In the moment. Present.

To me this idea isn’t a cliché, but a practical tool to live mindfully and well.

When you think about it, living in the moment means throwing yourself into every situation and being totally involved. None of this half-hearted living for me.

Fighting stigma around mind medications

By Virginia Winder

One of the biggest stigmas about living with experience of a mental illness is taking medication.

Everywhere I’ve turned lately, I have come up against the belief that being on medication is some sort of cop out and you’re a hero or heroine if you give it up.

Please, never encourage people who have diagnoses of bipolar, schizophrenia or depression to quit – especially if the medication is helping them.

Talking about suicide, the website Bipolar Lives says: “Dramatic reductions, both for attempts and completions, is one of the most striking impacts of lithium and other effective mood stabilisers.”

One of the most compelling aspects of living with bipolar is the temptation of going off my meds. Why? Because I miss the manic highs. They are amazing and you feel like you can conquer the world.

But these highs don't last.

When the mania erodes, like the slow shattering of a glass-made world, there’s the plunge – I call it the drop zone – when you find yourself at ground zero. All memories of what that “high” felt like are gone and often there’s huge embarrassment about the things you may have done or said “up there”.

The depression is made worse because the difference between the high and low are so acute. A large number of people with bipolar complete suicide – a rate of 15%. Of those living with bipolar, 50% will attempt to take their life and 80% will think about it. 

Those are horrifying statistics.

Images like this feed the stigma around taking
life-saving mental health medications.

For me, lithium keeps me stable – I don’t have the huge mood swings I used to. Yes, I still feel joy, have wildly creative thoughts, and also feel great sadness and anger.

But if I went off my medication, the outcome could literally kill me. So please think carefully, before you congratulate someone going off their meds or even worse, make them feel bad for being on them.

Would you applaud a diabetic for going off insulin? Or a person with powerful migraines to just tough it out? Or an asthmatic to give up their inhaler during an attack. Two of these scenarios are life-threatening.

Going off mental health medication can be exactly the same.

I came across a person once who had had a lung transplant – a huge medical procedure that required drugs so the organ wasn’t rejected.

This same person had a sibling on medication to help live with the debilitating illness of schizophrenia, and raved about how their loved one shouldn’t be on these drugs.

Weird that it’s OK to have all the medical intervention in the world for something physical, but not for a mental illness. I’ve talked with people who hear voices, who live with psychosis and paranoia, and know it’s heart-breaking and terrifying. Can you imagine walking around with a voice talking in your head the whole time, which you can’t switch off?

What many of those people don’t know is that for some people, like myself, medication is a life saver.

Yes, I tried St John’s Wort, but it caused me to have mini seizures. So that’s crossed off the list. However, it can work wonders for some people. 

Advice: Don’t ever take it at the same time as antidepressants, because you could end up with a nasty temporary condition called serotin syndrome. Yes, you can have too much of a good thing.

The thing about mental health medications is you need to get the right drugs. You need to work with your doctor or psychiatrist to do that. Unfortunately, it can take time and patience and, sometimes, you may suffer a raft of unwanted side effects before the ideal drug or combo is found. The same goes for medication for physical conditions.

I was put on lithium after I became one of the 50% (see above).

Nearly three years on, I have been stable, with one short dip on the way. Lithium has changed my life and my life expectancy.

So please don’t hassle people on mental health medication to get off and be wary about supporting those who stop taking their pills, especially those with a long history of extreme mental illness.

If it’s you who’s quitting, ask yourself why? Is it the stigma, do you miss the highs (if you’re bipolar), or is it a push from the natural health advocates that’s shaping your opinion? Could it be side effects? If so, work with your doctor to try something else.

For those who are suffering and won’t even look at mental health medication, think carefully about why. Do you think you deserve to suffer? Is depression a familiar, almost comfortable place to hide? Are you frightened of medical intervention? Would you feel the same if you had a heart attack? Or meningitis? 

This is a great book full of
mindfulness tips. 

Then there are those people who won’t go on medication – or go off it – and instead self-medicate with alcohol or drugs. This is extra harmful because both can make the illness worse, feed into depression and/or mania and may cause psychosis.

Believe me, medication isn’t the only answer. For me mindfulness is my cornerstone, along with Acceptance Commitment Therapy, creativity, family, friendship, love, laughter, meaningful work, good sleep, healthy food and exercise. Staying well takes a lot of hard work.

Every now and again, I look at my rock-of-a-husband, and say: “Sometimes I really feel like going off lithium so I can feel that exquisite high again.”

“I’d rather have you alive,” he replies.

Warrior of words

By Virginia Winder

It's time to stand up. 

For too long I've been lying down (quite literally lately), hiding behind my journalistic shroud of impartiality. 

Enough. It's time to speak out on the things I care about. On people, our planet, mental and physical health, creativity, peace, equality and spirituality. 

It's time to be a warrior of words. To interview, to research, look deeply, to save the world - all the reasons I became a journalist in the first place all those 30-plus years ago. 

This is my New Year's pledge. 

Also, 2017 will be a time to improve my writing style; to dance with words, to try new techniques and become a more exciting and moving storyteller. I'm doing an online course through Future Learn, which is at all of our fingertips for free.

The aim is to write this blog once a week because regular schedules work for me.

There will be features, opinion pieces, personal stories (mine and yours), music and film reviews - anything that moves me in some way.  

Expect VW's Vibrant World to challenge, inspire and be filled with people.  

They could be you. 

So don't be surprised if you hear from me with a request to tell your story or to comment on a compelling issue.

We're all the good guys and we need to save the day. 

Time to talk about taboo

By Virginia Winder

I'm going talk about something that's been taboo for too long. 

This is an issue that silence has made worse. 

Right now we're using the words happy, jolly and merry as wishes for all those we care about.

But for many the festive season is the hardest time of year.

Not for me - I love Christmas - yet it's hell for others because of a wide range of reasons.  

Loneliness and loss, poverty and pain - mental and physical - can make life just too tough. 

In fact, now is when a whole bunch of people hit rock bottom and think about taking their lives. 

Yes, I'm going to talk about suicide. 

I make no apology for writing this on a bright sky day dotted with blooming pohutukawa. 

I want to look at this heart-breaking subject from two sides - that of the distressed person and the supporters. 

This post isn't about me this time; it's for the despairing right now. The first part is for you. 

Some suggestions:

1.       If you're feeling suicidal, chances are your thoughts will be unhealthy. Your inner voice will be telling you stuff like "everyone would be better off without me", "the depression will never end" or "I'm worthless". 

These are all thoughts and thoughts are not facts. When you're so down your thoughts can be illogical. It's damn hard to think straight when you feel so low, especially when the hideous "I want to die" mantra kicks in. So…

2.       Tell a trusted person how you're feeling. Be honest. Sit with them and share your despair because those who care will always be there. 

3.       Ask for help. Call your local crisis team, contact a support worker if you have one, go to your GP or visit the emergency department. Phone a clinical psychologist or counsellor. Ring a helpline or reach out on social media. 

It may sound dire but your local mental health ward is a safe place to be in times of acute mental unwellness. 

4.       Reach out to your circle of family and friends. Be honest about your safety and, if possible, ask people to be on a roster to ensure you aren't alone. Believe me, people are more than willing to step up and step in. 

5.       Know you aren't alone. Even though it's not always apparent, many people, undoubtedly some in your circle, will be feeling or have felt the same as you. I know I have and I could count a dozen friends who have been to that "life is not worth living" place. Talk to us because we know and care. We hold you. 

6.       Pray or meditate, practice yoga, go for a beach walk, write… There is likely to be something that helps just a little bit. Chances are you won't feel like doing it, but give it a go anyway. It may be as simple as getting up and having a shower. 

7.       This is a hard one, but I need to tell you it will get better. Maybe tomorrow, next week or next month. There is always, always hope. 

8.       Finally, if depression is your Achilles heel or you live with experience of bipolar or another mental illness, or you know there are times that get excruciatingly bad, make a suicide prevention plan when you're well. That may sound desperate but it could save your life. 

This needs to include your safeguards or the reasons for staying alive. It could be pledges made to spouses, children, other family members or dear friends. It could be your religion or rules you write yourself. 

For the supporters:

1.       Ask questions and listen. Yes, you've got to ask the tough ones: "Are you suicidal?", "are you thinking of killing yourself?", "are you safe?" 

Then it gets tougher.  You need to ask: "Have you got a plan to kill yourself?" If the answer is yes, you must ask: "What is it?"

2.       With help from the unwell person, remove the means for them to harm themselves. 

3.       If you're deeply concerned, call your local crisis team or take the person to the emergency department. As a last resort - but never to be written off - call 111 and the police will help. 

4.       Set up a vigil. Call on the person's close friends and trusted family members to be with the person round the clock. Don't let them be alone. Don't try to fix the person, but ask questions and talk about other things to break the cycle of inward thinking. 

5.       Be wary if a depressed person suddenly becomes happy or starts sending goodbye messages. This could be a sign they have made up their mind to end it all. That's when you must be vigilant and ask questions. Some suicidal people detach from reality, so if they've been extremely low and suddenly become distant, please watch them carefully, this could be a danger time. 

6.       Don't take it all on your shoulders. Ask for help yourself. And never blame yourself if someone takes their life - it is their decision and sadly there are situations where you can't do a damn thing. That's because some distressed people act on impulse. It can be a rash decision at a time of great hardship and you may not see it coming. 

7.       Be kind to people. Always. That shop assistant may be low or that  service station attendant may be lonely or that homeless person could be on the edge. That also means not trolling on social media. You never know what's behind someone's real or virtual persona. Kindness is one of the greatest virtues of all. 

8.       Out of crisis time, support Lifeline or another helpline or, in our region, the upcoming Taranaki Retreat, which will be a sanctuary for people on the edge. It's all about suicide prevention and led by Jamie Allen, a man with a pure heart. He's sharing the love - let's do the same. 

Arohanui, 

Virginia 

HELPLINES:

·         In Taranaki, phone 06 753 6139 and ask for the Crisis Team or free dial direct on 0508 277 478.

·         Lifeline: 0800 543 354 - Provides 24 hour telephone counselling.

·         Youthline: 0800 376 633 or free text 234 - Provides 24 hour telephone and text counselling services for young people.

·         Samaritans: 0800 726 666 - Provides 24 hour telephone counselling.

·         Tautoko: 0508 828 865 - provides support, information and resources to people at risk of suicide, and their family, whānau and friends.

·         Whatsup: 0800 942 8787 (noon to 11pm).

·         Kidsline: 0800 543 754 (4pm - 6pm weekdays).

·         The Lowdown: thelowdown.co.nz  - website for young people ages 12 to 19.

·         National Depression Initiative - depression.org.nz (for adults), 0800 111 757 - 24-hour service.

·         If it is an emergency or you feel you or someone you know is at risk, please call 111.

·         For information about suicide prevention, see http://www.spinz.org.nz. 

Pain behind the petals

By Virginia Winder

I hide behind flower photographs. 

Each day I post a new bloom on Facebook and do my best to brighten the world. Just a bit. 

But really, it's me who benefits the most because I am forced to look beyond myself at something beautiful. 

Behind the flowers there's been a lot of pain lately - physically and mentally. 

But I survived, obviously, because of friends, whanau, strong drugs, mindfulness and our free health service. 

But mainly it was the people dear to me, who got me through. 

In September, I hurt my back, again, and ended up with a prolapsed disc. 

Some days I was relatively mobile, while others I felt like fire-heated nails were embedded in the nerves of my lower back, shooting pains right down my legs. 

Many times I was bed-ridden and forced to lie on my right side willing the pain away with mindfulness meditations. 

I walked with crutches, a Zimmer frame or on the arm of a loved one. 

This injury led to five visits to the emergency department, four hospital stays, three MRIs (sung to the 12 days of Christmas), two injuries, finishing with one spinal surgery (my third in 15 months). It was successful. 

During that time I was taking long-acting and short-acting morphine. It barely took the edge off. 

But what I learnt is there is a much better way of getting total pain relief - listening to friends. 

It's bloody boring living in a pain-scape and even worse focusing on that pain. 

Ah, but people and their stories, their lives,  are a guaranteed remedy to take the pain away. 

"Talk to me," I'd say slightly frantically. "I'm over me."

And they would invite me into their worlds and I would be soothed. 

Friends and family also helped me through even tougher times in November. 

I began having sleep spasms that woke me screaming with a half-body slam of nerve-crushing cramp. For 10 nights I lived in a twilight world of half sleep. 

After just two days of this, I plummeted. 

My mood, which had been  as steadfast as my damn-the-pain attitude, hit zero. Danger zone. 

I knew I couldn't be left alone. 

It's embarrassing to ask for help from kind hearts but necessary when your life is on the line. 

I had a promise to keep to my children and husband, so we sought help from the mental health service and a member of the brief care team visited me daily. But to keep me out of the mental health ward I needed a round-the-clock roster of people to be with me. 

My friends and family came en force.

Some made lunch for me, others sat with me and talked about what was going on in their lives and I learnt that their stories worked just as well for mental pain. 

But I was terrified of sleeping until one creative friend, in a burst of brilliance, noticed how strong foam was used to position patients for x-rays. She thought a foam wedge may help my back. It did and stopped the spasms! 

When sleep returned, so did my sanity. 

In high spirits, I visited a garden for a feature interview and injured myself further. Then a one-crutch wander around another garden and then the hospital turned me into a crippled mess. 

On a Monday morning I was taken to hospital by ambulance, learnt ACC had approved surgery, was admitted into Ward 3B where the nurses were wonderful (I think I was a bit cantankerous) and on Friday, December 2, had successful spinal surgery on my lower back. 

Now I'm slowly repairing and slowly repaying the kindness of many. 

So, there you go, the persona someone presents on Facebook may be at odds with what's truly going on behind the scenes. 

And the best thing you can do for another person is to share your story. 

This is mine for you - and it has a happy ending!

The back story - lessons from a wilful spine

By Virginia Winder

Izzy the smoocher, caused me to trip.

Each time I’ve had a back injury, I’ve been taught a lesson.

The first time last August after a slip on the back deck and an injury that threatened bladder control, I learnt about trust.

I had to hand myself over to the medical people – the nurses, ED doctors, air ambulance folk and neurosurgeons. They fixed me up fine and sent me home, my water works intact.

During a non-painful recovery period I learnt about patience, about the importance of inner core exercises and the wonders of pelvic floor workouts. I rested. I read. I recuperated and I also worked. I was determined this incident would have little or no impact on my output.

Then on January 28, I hurt my back again. This time in a Pilates class and, as the days went by, the pain from a compressed sciatic nerve became worse and worse.

Once again my patience was tested. But more than that, so was my endurance. This event led to three-and-a-half months of pain that sometimes hit the 10 out of 10 mark. I survived. I can even say I thrived.

Again, I was able to work, to write lying down, do many interviews standing up and I just gritted my teeth and got on with it. We don’t know what we can handle until it’s handed to us.

I had to rest a lot because lying down eased the pressure on the nerve. As a result of that, and repetitively doing mindfulness meditations, I became extremely laid back. The opiates I was on probably helped too.

When I recovered, after another surgery in Wellington, I still felt laid back. Life was good and I was just cruising along. But there was something missing – adrenalin.

Instead of being hyped up by deadlines, I was meeting them with ease and still felt as laid back as a hippy on holiday in Hawaii (I do love alliteration). I just had no urgency, and weirdly, stories were proving ridiculously easy to write.

Then I went to a writer’s group and one of my mentors gently, subtly pointed out that maybe I was a little off my game. I didn’t get upset (too laid back for that), I went away and reflected. I knew I was lacking something. Some edge. The ability to lose myself so totally in words that nothing else exists.

The rogue washing basket I shouldn't have carried.

Then last Tuesday I was carrying a heavy washing basket down the hallway when I tripped on the cat. I shouldn’t have been carrying the washing basket anyway, but obviously, there was more for me to learn. I went to bed feeling a little troubled because my back didn’t feel so good.

In the middle of the night I got up to the loo and I felt pains shoot down my right leg. “Oh shit,” I thought, memories of those months of pain flooding back in an instant.

The next afternoon I hung out at the Ozone Bean Store with a couple of photographer mates. We shot the breeze and I felt increasingly uncomfortable – not because of them, but because of my back. They left and after doing some work, I hobbled for the door.

I started walking up nearby stairs and could barely lift each leg because my back was going into spasm. Half way to the car, I was hit by pain so bad I thought I was going to pass out. An embarrassing mental image of being tended to by ambulance officers in public, pushed me on. Through white face and gritted teeth I limped to the car.

At home, I staggered inside, lay on the bed and called my husband to come home. “You need to take me to A&E.”

I went straight in and put on a bed. Great service, I must say. There, the doctor from Florida decided – rightly – that this injury was muscular. Yes, it did have some of the same symptoms as my previous incidents, but this felt different.

After just three hours (pretty damn fast for A&E), I was sent home with Warren as my nurse. He stayed home to look after me because I couldn’t get out of bed by myself.

But this time, I discovered I couldn’t be laid back any more. The more sedentary I was, the worse I felt.

Also, I had to push myself through two major deadlines on Saturday and Sunday and it felt fantastic. I had adrenalin. I couldn’t lay about; I was active and on to it.

So there it is, the back story is I’ve found my words, my verve, my edge. When I wrote my garden page and stories for another publication, I lost myself in the words. Even this blog is from that “other” place that brings me as much joy as finding flowers to photograph.

My back gets better day by day now.

Now I have a message to my wilful spine – I’ve learnt my lessons thanks. Get back where you belong.