A Day in the Life

"For the majority of us, the past is regret, the future an experiment" Mark Twain. "The past is not dead. In fact, it's not even past." William Faulkner. Those of us who have experienced mental ill health are often advised not to ruminate too much on the past, or to speculate too much about the future. Rather, we should try to live in the present, which would, it seems, make us happier. However, I would suggest that this is a rather difficult task, and it would appear, that when speaking of mental illness, the problem of feelings of guilt, regret, or even shame at the way one may have behaved when unwell is a quite common one. I, for example, sometimes find myself drenched in bad memories of times when I have been ill, and the resultant feelings of, if not shame, then just downright embarrassment, at my behaviour rise to the fore. Strangely, it is as I get better that this happens, and I seem to find it harder to justify what has gone before with the re

"All in all, then, the future of mental health treatment looks promising. We are no longer, it seems, and in the words of the great Talking Heads song, on a 'road to nowhere'. We are, most reassuringly, finally on the road to recovery." From my own blog post, "The Road to Recovery".     In general, I try to keep this blog as upbeat and positive as I can, and the above quote, I think, shows this. I have now done 69 postings since that particular one, this being the 70th, and I now, I am sad to say, sometimes feel that the Pathways Group, our little gathering for those with experience of psychosis, may have reached a point, for me at least, where it has outlived some of its usefulness. I say "some" because I still greatly enjoy the social aspect of our group, and I still think it is a great resource for those in the process of recovery, and a wonderful way of increasing people's confidence and widening their social network. In the gr

I have often said in this blog that I feel the problem of stigma is gradually improving. In my experience, I have rarely had problems with the general public or neighbours, for example. I do not, however, go around with my diagnosis tattooed on my forehead, so to speak. So, while I behave like an ordinary human being, I suppose the problem of other people's knowledge (or lack thereof), attitudes and behaviour would not come up unless I told them of my illness. This can be a problem in itself, though, as judging who and when to tell can open up a minefield of possibilities. Would I be rejected? Would people have a different opinion of me, if they knew? I suppose only in being completely open and public about my illness could I be sure about such issues. Anyway, the national "Time to Change" campaign, set up to tackle the problem of stigma around mental ill health, has published figures which would seem to indicate that I am correct in thinking that this problem is on the

I have just finished reading Alan Hollinghurst's "The Line of Beauty", a novel about the ruthless and decadent '80s. One segment of the novel is entitled, "To Whom Do You Beautifully Belong?", after a phrase taken form another novel by the American master, Henry James. The book is, on one level, about purely aesthetic beauty as it is contrasted with moral vulgarity, the main character of the book, Nick Guest, being in thrall to all things purely beautiful. Indeed, the title of the novel is taken from a phrase coined by Hogarth to describe the "ogee", which to him was the ultimate "line of beauty". So, all this got me thinking about the purely beautiful, particularly in terms of writing or language, and the question, "to whom do you beautifully belong?", has been running through my mind ever since, striking me, as it did, as particularly gorgeous. I remember when I was very young that I was always taken by poetry or prose that

So, it is now 2012, and I wish all who may read this a very happy and wonderful New Year. It is around this time that most of us make some kind of resolution about how we are going to change our behaviour. But, psychologically speaking, if what I've gleaned from a quick scroll over the internet is true, such efforts to shift our lifestyles may be doomed to failure. By giving ourselves goals which are sometimes unrealistic we condemn ourselves to disappointment. Indeed, the whole issue of goal setting is, psychologically, a complex one. People have written whole, very weighty, books on the subject. But, to grind it down to just one or two principles, it seems that when setting ourselves some form of goal it should, first and foremost, be achievable and realistic. So, as we are often advised by mental health services, instead of trying to achieve your resolution in one giant leap, try to break it down into smaller, more realistic, aims. For example, if you want, as I do, to learn so