One Man Went to Mow …
I had a moment this week.
On Tuesday I was at work, but for only half a day as I had booked the afternoon off. Em was coming over on the train, it was getting into Grantham station at 12.49. Grantham railway station always reminds me of the one Thomas the Tank Engine steams into on the Island of Sodor.
Anyway, for the first time in a while, I was feeling really happy, I was bragging about my afternoon off to everyone I came in contact with, “Did I mention I was off this afternoon?” Most people rolled their eyes, laughed, and playfully told me to ‘F’ off! As much as I was enjoying feeling free of my heavy head and negative hypervigilance for once, It felt strange to me, and this unusual titillation was not lost on Brian (my inner chimp) either.
I started to question my new mood, investigating all the reasons why the next few days off were not going to go as planned, anything could go wrong, couldn’t it?
I began to sense embarrassment creep in, I started to feel a bit stupid for allowing myself a moment to let go and just be. “What if it did all go wrong?” I asked myself, “I’d feel pretty bloody ridiculous then wouldn't I?
I realised this was the start of a spiral into the darkness I'd worked so hard to leave behind over the last few months, and so, I began to push back.
And then something strange did happen, I said “F off” to Brian. No, no, no, I'm not having this, “You're wrong Brian, I’m not listening, I'm not drinking your poison, not today!” I’m drinking a tequila sunrise, not Brian's ‘devilled ale’.
This week really was one of the best I’ve experienced for a while. Em and I had a laugh, we drank wine, ate good food, had a day out with my kids, we recorded our first Who’s Wally? Podcast, and even managed to get the new website up and running. I felt new. No, not new, somewhat returned. The old me, that I believed I'd lost was back. I wasn't smiling through gritted teeth today, I was just smiling. The happy chemicals were flooding my brain and I was loving it, it really was a proper buzz. For someone like myself, who has pushed back on happiness to almost choose the dark instead, I was drunk on a mini euphoria.
I think it was partly due to the fact that the happiness was naturally occurring (something I believed I'd lost), and partly due to feeling the rush of putting Brian in his place. The doorman of exuberance had stopped Brian at the door of ‘Club-Happy’ and was now turning him away because his invitation wasn't valid, “Brian you say? … Hmm, no mate, you're not on the list.”
I recorded a guest spot with Simon Benn for his podcast -Thriving Adoptees- on Thursday evening and it was great fun, you can’t fail to feel a boost of happiness talking with Simon. In the recording, he referred to the fact that the left side of the brain asks all the questions, and this could well be the source of all the pain we suffer. Does that mean that the right side of my brain was saying “Yes I hear you lefty, but screw you!” I like to think so. I used to think that cognitively forcing sadness into happiness was a myth, but now I'm starting to think I was wrong because I did exactly that this week, and consciously too.
Having good mental health is like tending a lawn, you spend time mowing it, cleaning up all the cuttings, trimming the edges, and sweeping up the mess, it all looks lovely, doesn't it? Nicely laned and weed-free. So you go about your life safe in the knowledge that your lawn is cared for. Then you forget about it for a while, a week goes by and when you look again, it's grown untidy, the weeds are back, and the edging looks scruffy. There really is only one thing to do … Keep on mowing!
It really does feel like I've tapped into a superpower here. What's next, the ability to fly, or X-ray vision?
Photo by Jeremy Boley on Unsplash
