Yeah, alright, exercise is good

I like food. I like lying down. I like not moving. All things that coincide with gaining weight, becoming unhealthy and poor mental health, so I’m off to a great start.

I am very aware of the research that has been done that proves that exercise will improve your mental health. People who partake in regular exercise tend to have a healthy mind and there are few professional athletes with severe mental health problems. Raising your heart rate releases endorphins which will make you feel better, it’s a fact. But all that, still sometimes I know, isn’t enough to convince me or you.

I’m a bit of an obsessive, if I find something I like, enjoy or can do, I do it, eat it, buy it or consume it to a ridiculous level before getting sick of it. Cheese toasties was one, everyday for 3 weeks, no joke. But I find it the same with exercise. When I was at university, I struggled tremendously with my mental health but was unable to recognise it properly. I took up a gym membership in my second year and whilst my physical health improved dramatically I was happier and had more energy. I overdid it. I went every single day, for over an hour. It was so fabulous, but unsustainable, I managed it for around 9 months. But 9 months of happy and healthy Ellen, mildly addicted to exercise was an Ellen that I could get on board with. When I had a breakdown last year, I took up cycling, I am confident that it saved me from falling so low and I enjoyed it so much, after 2 weeks of daily cycling I signed up for a 60 mile bike ride. I bought a new bike and continued to cycle following the big ride but the daily intense cycling again fizzled out after around 9 months. I still cycle but it’s less often. And when I do, it is bloody marvellous. It’s annoying to hear, but exercise is helpful. I may end up overdoing it, but as I exercise, the fog starts to lift, and if I can lift that fog for an hour a day, by doing something, sign me up. I’m swimming at the moment, I’ve been every day for the past 9 days and am confident I will go tomorrow. But it’s getting me through, exercise has always got me through, no matter how long it’s taken me, how out of breath I get or how achey my muscles are. I’m hoping swimming stays for a bit longer than 9 months and that I can incorporate cycling and the gym for a more healthy balance.

However, please be notified that it has taken me 6.5 weeks of low to be able to exercise. Whilst I am a bit advocate for the benefits of exercise, sometimes it is simply not possible. I have been through a low which has disabled me from even getting out of bed, and so physical exercise/leaving the house is just a massive no and has been impossible. Its important to attempt to not punish yourself, do what you need to do. I spent a week sleeping and watched too much Netflix. And on days that I felt a bit brighter, I would contemplate and sometimes succeed at heading out for a really short walk, that was enough. Trust me when I say that getting out in the fresh air and walking for even 10 minutes is enough to lift you 1%. And that 1% could be enough to just keep you on that edge, rather than falling off it. You may come back and sleep for 4 hours. But you’ve got moving, for a little bit.

I am never ever going to be someone who can advocate a consistently healthy and active lifestyle and I am in no way qualified to tell people what they should and shouldn’t do when it comes to exercise. But it’s honestly saved me at points in the past few years and even just 30 minutes a week, believe me, will make a difference.

Give it a go, but make sure you’re ready for it, don’t force yourself, you won’t keep it up. Don’t become obsessive like me. Go at your own pace, do something you enjoy and do it as regularly as you want. It’s a choice, but a choice that may just give you that small boost you need. I’m going to continue to be obsessive about whatever form of exercise is helping me. And that’s the bottom line. It’s helping me. I am 24, and chubby, exercise isn’t a natural way of life, but I’m still here, and anything that helps with that, deserves my time. See you on the sweaty side.

Hang in there.

Ellen on the Edge xx

Good days, Bad days, Days

I am so sick of this shit. It absolutely sucks.

I don’t want to end my life right now and I wouldn’t say I am suicidal or having any thoughts or wanting to harm myself. But I am fed up of the up and down. Of the uncertainty of each day, and waking up not knowing whether I’m going to love the day, want the day to end, or skip it completely. I know that one day it won’t feel like this, and then it might feel like this again. But right now it does, and that’s all I can think of.

Yesterday was brilliant, I got up, I took my tablets, I drank some water that tasted so cold and fresh it suprised me. I ate a banana and enjoyed it. I got in the car and went to the gym, the sky was blue and I pressed the button that allowed me to feel the morning breeze sweeping across my face. It was warm, but breezy. I got the gym and ran, and lifted and crosstrained? (Is that the word). I left the gym and went out for lunch in the sunshine, I noticed the September sun. I had a pedicure and laughed with the woman who said I had small toenails whilst I sat in a ridiculously comfy chair. I ate food and I smiled and laughed and nothing major happened, I didn’t do anything life changing or news worthy or even social media worthy. But it was a good day, and as I went to sleep last night, I felt relaxed, tomorrow was coming and it was going to be good.

How wrong I was.

Today was not brilliant. I didn’t get up. When I did, I forced my tablets down my throat with luke warm water that had been sat by the side of my bed all night. I couldn’t bare the thought of eating and decided I wouldn’t eat all day. I got back into bed and cried. I managed to get downstairs an hour later where I slumped on my sofa. Hoping that the day would be over soon. I opened the door to let my dog out, it was raining, and it was cold. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, or have to look anyone in the eye. I didn’t want to smile or feel. I just wanted to sleep until tomorrow. As I tried to force myself to sleep that night, I was uncomfortable and I was distressed and what I really wanted to do, was to sleep until yesterday. But instead, I hoped tomorrow would be anything but today.

I could make myself ill with the amount of time I spend analysing what I can or can’t do to help prepare me to have a good day. I try restricting, not doing too much, overtiring myself, deep breathing, mindfulness and what ever other bollocks it says to do on google. But depression wins sometimes. Depression doesn’t discriminate and it doesn’t care what you’ve done to prepare. When you’re in a low, depression can pull you in whenever it bloody wants. And it’s so unfair.

I don’t have any wise words, I don’t have any inspiration for you. And there is no “things I have learnt” at the end of this post. I have no idea what I’m doing, I have read a previous blog where I was even talking about being this low, but sometimes I can’t even hear myself and positivity. I never have consistently and I don’t think I ever will. But I’m trying, and I wanted to share that I’m trying. I wanted to share that I don’t have answers, I just feel it, I have good days, bad days and days. And whether I like it or not, rather than get frustrated or fed up with living, I ride it. As I’ve told you all, ride it. Enjoy the silence if you need to. Just know that we are all riding it together, and if you’re having a bad day today, know that more than anything, I feel you. Tomorrow is just another day, fingers crossed, ey?

Hang in there.

Ellen on the Edge xx