Finding value in myself through finding value in things.

I have spent a lot of time over the last few months sorting out my stuff and my home. I have had to throw alot of things away, and in the process of doing that, deciding what is worth saving. However, somewhat frustratingly I have recently changed my attitude towards this task. This was thanks to a couple of courses I attended (Sheffield flourish and Storying Sheffield).

In those we focused on our stories. The personal narrative that makes up our lives, and how we can use different ways to express that. I have come to realise that I don't just have all this stuff for no reason, some of it at least has value. That isn't to say it is valuable, but that it is valued enough by me to keep it. It is different from finding joy in something, because a lot of these things hold difficult stories for me, and really don't bring me joy. However, they are still very much a part of my story, who I am and for that, they are of value to me.

In the last few days as I have considered this, and continued to sort, my attitude has changed to the task because of this realisation. I still throw things away, but not because I have this need to de clutter and tidy but because I no longer feel the need to keep hold of it, it no longer has value or meaning for me. It has stopped becoming part of my narrative. It has also meant that there are things that I have got in boxes that I really want to recover from them, and display them somehow. Not because they are anything special, but because of the value they represent.

I am also going to try this attitude out when it comes to sorting through my clothes. If something has some value to me, adds or reflects some part of my story back to the world then I will keep it, if not, then I probably wont.

It is also interesting then to extend this and deepen it further. By finding the value in these things, and finding those stories and meanings to them, I become the curator of my life. I become more careful about the things that I keep and how I keep them, because they are no longer just things, but valuable things and important to me.

It also means that I become more careful about the things that I buy, and whether those things will add value to my life or not. It might mean choosing to buy less of something more expensive, or spend more on something that will last longer, because ultimately, under it all, it means I am valuing myself and my life more.

By placing a value on the choices I make, the things I eat, what I wear, what I keep  and how I keep it means that I become more mindful of those choices. I also increase my own sense of self through strengthening my self narrative and self worth.

It doesn't mean always buying the most expensive things though. That is the balance. By buying something that is cheaper might mean better value and self worth in the longer term because I am being aware of my budget and staying in control. However, its about making the judgement about what is worth or has value that I should spend money, or even time on (as time is a very valuable resource).

This is just my thought processes at this time, and I am hoping it will evolve over time and as I continue my journey in this way. find

Monster in the toilet zine.

Here is my "monster in the toilet" zine: link to pdf
how to fold the zine ( you can use scissors just fold it in half and cut that way)

It is designed to be printable and coloured in yourself.

enjoy!
There’s a MONSTER in the toilet Mummy,
It tried to eat my hand!
It roared when I went near it,
and it sounded kind of mad.

There’s a MONSTER in the toilet Mummy,
It sits there on the wall
its roar makes my ears hurt
and it's TEETH are ten feet tall


There’s a monster in the toilet mummy,
I'm sure I heard it laugh.
It rattles and blows the water away,
but it ate my hands right off!


You know that monster in the toilet?
It's not scary, mean or mad
it loves to eat up water
and roaring means its glad



You know that monster in the toilet?
its there to keep us clean and dry
it doesn't want to be scary
it just wants to be friendly and say hi



You know that monster in the toilet?
It used to scare me too
But now we are best friends
and I hope you can be too



Hi, im the monster in the toilet
Id like to shake your hand
I love to chat and make new friends
I hope you understand



Hi, I'm the monster in the toilet,
I'm here to dry your hands,
I know I roar and am quite hot,
and I'm sorry if I'm scary
I'm really really not!

A letter to my mental health..

Dear mental health,

You and I first got to know each other when we were ill around age 16. You moved into my life as mental illness without me really inviting there, and very quickly became a thing to be feared and unfortunately something to get rid of.
You were a bad influence on my life early on, getting me into trouble and finding ever increasingly bigger things to do to get my attention. But I carried on, trying to ignore you, being scared of the things you made me do and think, and worst of all it seems, I was powerless to stop you being part of my life. There you were, eating with me, squeezing into the same bed as me. Everything I did, you were there too, like a physical shadow that, along with the dark, came with a coldness I couldn't quite shake off.
That was part of the problem, wasn't it? You weren't quite real, and it was only really me that could see you separate to me, and forever trying to fight you off, even though you weren't really a person, but a thing, like the dog poo stuck to the bottom of my shoe that I couldn't get off and everyone blamed me for the source of the smell. "mental illness" (as I called you then), we were inseparable to everyone else, no one could see beyond you to me, and it made me worse somehow, that my person hood was somehow swallowed up and meshed with this thing that I was trying so hard to get rid of, but no one else saw us separately.
I tried really hard to get rid of you. I went to counselling and tried various different things to try and get rid. I was crying and frustrated when none of them worked and because they made me feel worse, and you became bigger, more scary and attached I stopped trying.

I remember when it changed though. Although it started suddenly, it took some time to change forever, as these things do, and of course there were still difficulties along the way, where I still hated you, ignored you and wished you were gone.
We had a difficult day that day, and as we sometimes did when we were having difficult days found ourselves in a hotel room by the evening, hiding from the world, and I was trying to hide from you too, but as always, you came with me. I had got frustrated and got angry at you, getting myself all worked up in the mix. I ended up crying, and I started to notice my crying had an echo. I looked up and noticed, for the first time a small girl crying across from me. thats not to say you were really there, or that I was seeing you as an illusion either, more that, for the first time I could see you, mental illness, for what you were, what you represented. For me, you were a small girl crying, hurting and really upset, and I wanted to look after you and make it all better.

When I started to get to know you and actually understand you, and why you were with me, was when we both started to get better. We worked together, not against each other, to solve the problems I was having with you being around, and you grew up too. You became a mature part of me, wise and thoughtful and generally good to be around. Getting to know you was difficult, but it became very important as it also meant I got to know myself too, and we got better.
You still had that streak in you, and you still do, that needs and sometimes craves attention. But I have learnt, and you have accepted that the sooner I give you that attention, and the more positive attention I give you, the less of an issue it becomes.
Of course, we didn't do it on our own. I went back to therapy, with a different attitude this time. I no longer wanted to destroy you because I learnt that although your name of mental illness seems quite scary and at times you still are, you are still a part of me, and there is a reason you are there. When I find that difficult I remind myself of the hurt and crying little girl you once were and under all that bad stuff thats what you are, and thats how I should treat you.

I remember the day you decided to move out from living with me. I was quite happy, but soon became quite lonely without you there all the time. However, I knew that this new way of being was much more healthy, and its not like you are gone forever.
You only live next door to me now, but it works so much better. We are friendly neighbours, but each with our own space and separate lives. I go to places without you now, I have learnt to be myself again. We still talk daily, and I love to tell you what I do now, and we are still welcome at each others houses, the difference is that we have a lot more respect for each others space and know that it doesn't mean anything bad.

When you moved out from my life, we decided to change your name from mental illness to mental health. It was symbolic of how you have changed from being a negative part of my life to just being a part of it.
I hope we continue to grow together and strengthen each other through working with each other and not against each other.


..and no offence, but I hope you don't move in again...