Liz Spikol’s Top 10 Mental Health Tips

I got an email this morning alerting me to an article in a local Arizona paper with top 10 mental health tips that will keep you from having to see a therapist. Why would you want to avoid a therapist? It’s not like it’s a dentist or a proctologist. Therapy is so pleasant; you just get to talk about yourself all the time. True, sometimes the eyes of your interlocutor do glaze over, at which point you just need to grab a tissue from the requisite box on the coffee table and blow your nose until it sounds like your face is going to explode. That’ll wake ’em up.
I haven’t read the Arizona article because I don’t want to get any ideas. But these articles are a dime a dozen. People love making lists, and with an issue as complicated as mental health, it’s nice to have it boiled down for you. So as I’m in the business of mental health stuffity-stuff, I offer you my top 10 tips. Do with them what you will.
1. Exercise. My gym card is so infrequently used that the last time I tried to pry it from my wallet it stuck in the pocket and half the text came off when I pulled it out. But there’s no question exercise makes me feel better. The key isn’t to be intimidated by the notion of Exercise, capital E. Mostly I do a few yoga poses in my office (everyone already thinks I’m weird), or I’ll put on some good music and groove to it at home. Or maybe I’ll take the stairs instead of the elevator, or even walk briskly. I don’t get all crazed about Exercise because then I get resentful. So instead I just do whatever exercise I can to give myself a little extra energy and confidence. It works.
2. Avoid refined sugar and white flour. Sugar can temporarily elevate you, but then you crash, and if you’re prone to depression the crash can feel pretty bad. White flour can make you feel bloated and heavy. These are small shifts, certainly, in mood, but when every day is a struggle to stay on an even keel, why hamper yourself?
3. OCDers: Stop feeling guilty about your compulsions. Your OCD makes you check if your door is locked three times? So what? It’s not your fault, and it’s not hurting anyone. You don’t need to feel sheepish and ashamed when you do it. That just perpetuates the anxiety that’s prompting you to check it in the first place.
4. Women: Keep close tabs on your menstrual cycle. I get upset when I notice my mood shifting—am I getting sick again? Should I tell the shrink?—until I realize it’s related to PMS. Then I stop being afraid my illness is getting worse and just accept the fact that this will be a hard week, but nothing to worry about.
5. Parents: Try not to pressure yourself to be normal all the time for your kids. When I was little and my mother was suffering from depression, she’d say, “Elizabeth, do you want to play the nap game?” At 3 years old I didn’t know it wasn’t really a game. It afforded me an opportunity to cuddle with Mommy while she got some rest and/or time to be weird.
6. Caregivers: Make yourself the priority every chance you get. Talk to friends about what you’re going through. I’ve known too many caregivers who, in attending to a loved one’s needs, have forgotten to attend to their own. Caregiving is incredibly stressful. It’s a life change that warrants regular visits to a mental health professional.
7. Don’t let a lack of health insurance stop you from getting help. Though we carp and moan about not having socialized medicine, the truth is that there are systems in place to give medical care to those without money. The key is in knowing where to find it. The easiest approach is to call the Mental Health Association in your area—the phone numbers can be found in the White Pages or online—and get a referral. That’s what they’re there for.
8. Take your meds. If you don’t like the side effects, talk to your prescribing doctor about how to change the dosage or transition to something you’ll tolerate better. NEVER STOP TAKING MEDS OR CHANGE THE DOSAGE WITHOUT CONSULTING THE PRESCRIBING DOCTOR.
9. Come out of the closet about having an illness. How many times have I stammered through a job interview, trying to explain the gaps in the resume? Or hemmed and hawed in a social situation when people ask why I left my Ph.D. program, or why I still live in Philly (and the latter is really a legit question). I’ve learned to explain the gaps simply by saying, “I got ill and had to come home for medical treatment,” or “I struggled for much of that decade with a serious illness, and wasn’t able to work.” Or even in the present tense: “I have a chronic illness that inhibits my ability to handle certain tasks.” If pressed, you could say it’s a brain disorder, but whoever’s pressing you is an idiot.
10. Stop drinking. Alcohol greatly affects the mood of a person with a mental illness, always for the worse. It will be almost impossible for you to control your illness if you drink. One glass of wine every now and then won’t kill you, but that’s about your limit. Pretend you’re a diabetic and you have a limit on candy bars (my nightmare), or that you’re asthmatic and aren’t allowed to smoke.
[This is a random photo of me. Eating out at a restaurant with big fish on the wall is tip No. 11.]
liz | 9:03 AM | Uncategorized




Still struggling enormously with #9 with the grad school part ringing especially true (”Why are you taking forever to finish your degree??” and “You can’t be an escapist forever. You have to get out of school and into the real world sometime.”)
Vis-a-vis #7, check with any teaching hospital or university in your area. They often have out patient clinics employing advanced psychology grad students with sliding scales for payment which could be as low as $5-$10 per therapy session. In most cases, you will not be refused counselling due to your inability to pay.
And yes, alcohol is actually a depressant and any respite that it provides from the suffering will be very temporary.
I worry a lot about #9, mainly because I’ve been advised by certain ‘managers’ not to tell anyone about my illness. While I’ve had very good experiences with most of my jobs and internships regarding my situation, I’ve also had a few bad ones that have even made me reconsider my career. But hey — I made it through seven semesters at Temple before I had to get my doctor to write a note to a professor.
I worry about #9 too. I have only, ever, told one work person about this bipolar disorder. How restful it would be to tell people at work about the illness! It is true that the choice of an academic life was especially fortuitous (read: lucky) for me. While I finished my Ph.D., I maintained a more or less even life with help from lithium. Got tenure, got grants, got publications, got awards. But after a bout with postpartum depression and psychosis in my late 30’s, the cocktail has gotten progressively more exotic, the cycle more rapid, the depths deeper, the urge to tell and be rescued more insistent, and the desire to have them all pat me on the back (”look how much she has accomplished with a ….a HANDICAP!) is an ongoing fantasy script.
Can I reclaim this life of relentless approval seeking?
Re # 9 . . . I teach at a community college . . . my students get documentation from the Office For Students with Disabilities . . . the documentation specifies what I need to do to accommodate their disabilities and comply with the ADA . . . my students tell me I am very accommodating as compared to other teachers . . . so maybe my testimony won’t reflect your experience at the other end . . . however, in no case do I ever know what is wrong with students unless the students themselves tell me . . . all I ever know is that I am able to make certain accommodations for them . . . longer test times, flexibility with deadlines and absences etc.
So, assuming your work/educational institutions have similar offices, you too can avoid specifying the nature of your condition if you choose to do so.
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