Coming soon: Previews of two new books I am currently working on.

One for adults and one for children, based on the premise of relating yourself to your imaginary car.

Do you know that the majority of people take greater care of their car than they do of themselves?

If you had one car to take you from intersection ‘Birth’, right to the end of your life’s road, how would you build, fuel and steer it? What would you do if it broke down? Have you set up your Sat nav correctly? If not, how do you know where you’re going and how you’re going to get there…and everything in between?

Look out for pre publication excerpts and please let me know what you think and how you’re navigating your own Life Superhighway.

Have a great day and thank you for reading!

Once upon a time…

When I was a young child, I was what was known as a ‘Tomboy’. I preferred the company of boys over girls…and it was just as well, as boys far outnumbered girls in our neighbourhood.

Why did I prefer their company? Well, I guess it was because they were more ‘physical’. Climbing trees, or dangerous objects. Cycling as fast as possible down streets that ended in t-junctions. Playing with ‘Action Man’ toys. Playing outdoors in all sorts of inclement weathers. I enjoyed being an equal, keeping up, surpassing. I loved the feeling of bone tiredness at the end of a day that started by getting outdoors straight after breakfast and ended up being shouted at to come inside, get bathed and get into bed. Thoses were the days when childern were naturally fit and (nutrition permitting) healthy. We didn’t count hill reps, we just ran until it felt as though our lungs would burst. We lifted heavy logs in the woods to build dens, utilising all our muscle groups. We swam in open water. We exercised without realising the health benefits we were reaping, and then…

It all goes downhill…

For the majority of us, somewhere between secondary school/college/university and starting to work we begin to transition to a sedentary lifestyle. We sit at desks, sit in car seats, bus seats and train seats, go home and sit on sofa’s in front of tv screens or laptops. You get the picture? There’s a general, steady decline into a sedentary lifestyle for the majority of the population. It’s not only that we become less active, we also indulge in unhealthy lifestyle choices, such as eating nutrient deficient foods. We percieve a lack of time as the reason for sticking a pizza in the oven, or odering takeaways. Time that is then spent browsing rubbish on the web, or watching crap on on the tv. I know that I’m generalising here. But by and large, this is the lifestyle led by the majority, not the minority. Not to mention the vast amount of people who self medicate with alcohol and drugs…whilst sitting on their backsides. Simplified, we are driving ourselves along a miserable road towards an early death. We are digging our graves with our teeth and giving ourselves innumerable, avoidable mental health issues.

An Answer…

There could be a very simple answer to all of this. Exercise. Now before you dismiss this as rubbish, give it a moments thought.

There is a mountain of evidence based scientific research that proves beyond doubt that exercise is as least, if not more beneficial for mild to moderate depression and anxiety then pharmaceutical intervention…popping pills.

Alcohol causes depression and anxiety. It’s the most destructive drug in the world. It’s legal and there’s always an excuse for its use. People drink to commiserate, to celebrate, as reward for a shitty week at work…the list of excuses goes on. People generally drink whilst being inactive…in a bar, at home. One of a multitude of negative side effects of alcohol is weight gain. This all impacts on our physical activity. Do you really want to go out for a run/hike/gym session when you’re hungover, overweight and feel like crap? No, of course you don’t. Months and years of this type of lifestyle and you have an unhealthy, nutrient deficient body that screams ‘no’ at the mere suggestion of an elevated heart rate. And so we have it, albeit very succinctly, the common reasons for our generally unhealthy and lazy society. Lack of exercise caused by unhealthy lifestyle choices. One keyword here I want you to remember. CHOICES.

Taking responsibiltiy for YOU…

If you choose to be unhealthy that’s fine. It’s your choice. But bear in mind that here in the UK where healthcare is still free, we all contribute towards the running of the NHS. So as someone who takes care of themselves, exercises daily, eats healthily and does not drink alcohol, I have to postion some of my hard earned money, through payment of taxes to the NHS. Is that fair? No, of course it’s not when I have to pay to get the ‘unhealthy lifestyle CHOICES people’ put back together again when they fall apart because of the poor decisions they have made. Mmmm.

It’s really not that difficult to start putting yourself on the right track. How do I know? Because I’ve been there! I’ve been unhealthy, lazy, addicted to alcohol and crap food. I’ve been one of the very best excuse makers out there. Had a crazy hard life, full of bad people and bad things happening that seemed totally out of my control. With a very few exceptions, virtually everything in our lives is within our control. We’re exceptionally good at making excuses for our miserable choices and the further we sink into ill health, depression and anxiety, the harder it is to crawl out of the pit we’ve dug ourselves into. We find it harder to make good decisions about EVERYTHING in life. Our thinking is clouded, we feel permanenetly fatigued and the thought of putting ‘effort’ into changing things is simply just too much.

A simple regime of exercising can make a world of difference. It needn’t cost a single penny. Go for for a walk. Challenge yourself and walk further tomorrow then you did today. You’ll soon see that you are capable of much more then you think you are…in every area of life. Google is the worlds mobile encyclopedia. Google ‘exercises’ you can do in your own home. Google healthy food choices. Make better choices and decisions and little by little your life will improve in ALL areas.

If you don’t change the things you do, what you have in life will stay precisely the same. You have the power of choice. Choose to leave the job that creates intolerable levels of stress that impact negatively on you and your family. Yes, a drop in income can be well worth it…again I speak from experience here. Choose to leave toxic relationships…done that one too. Choose healthier food. Choose to make the most life has to offer you. It’s a gold mine out there, but it’s up to you to work and dig out those nuggets, no one is going to do it for you!

‘Love your fcking life. Take pictures of everything. Tell people you love them. Talk to random strangers. Do things that you’re scared to do. Fck it, because so many of us die and no on remembers a thing we did. Take your life and make it the best story in the world. Don’t waste that sh1t.’

Move your butt and move your life in a better direction. Exercise along with healthy food are the most powerful healers’ on the planet, use them to your advantage. Stop playing the victim, put your energy into creating a life full of love and happiness. Be remembered for something, not nothing!

For the past few months I’ve had a soreness in my left breast. I thought it was maybe my bra rubbing, or maybe a particular exercise I’d been doing at the gym, or maybe I’d just slept in a funny position, but no, it wasn’t any of those things. I’d felt to see if there was a lump there before and hadn’t felt anything, but a couple of days ago I felt it. The lump. So off I tootled to the doctor, who also felt the lump and so my journey has started. I have no idea where this thing is going to go, but there’s no getting off this ride.

There is an extensive history of breast cancer running through my family. My mother was diagnosed with breast cancer when she was fifty years old, had a lumpectomy, radiotherapy and now at eighty years old she’s as fit as a fiddle. Her sister was also diagnosed, more than once with breast cancer and has had a double mastectomy, lymph nodes removed and has also suffered from skin cancer. She too has survived into old age. On my fathers side, his sister (my aunt) has had breast cancer in both breasts and has survived. So my family has a pretty good track record as far as survival is concerned.

Still, it’s not great being told that, yes you have a lump and receiving a letter from the consultant in Breast Surgery to go and see him for tests in ten days time.

My husband is very concerned and upset and keeps asking about how I’m feeling. I’ve told him that I’ll deal with the situation as it unfolds. It may be just a cyst or harmless growth, or it may be cancer. There’s no point in worrying myself to the point of distraction about something that may never transpire. Yes, a little nugget of ‘what if’ keeps nudging me. But I’m a positive person and I’m looking on this experience as a lesson.

When my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer, she remained incredibly positive. At one particular hospital appointment the Consultant came running down the corridor to meet her, proclaiming,

‘My most amazing patient. If only more people had your unshakable positivity, then there would be so many more positive outcomes’.

I’ve always remembered those words and I’ve always tried to remain as positive as I possibly can. No matter what life has thrown at me…and it’s thrown a damn lot!

So, I’m looking at this experience as a lesson. What can I learn from it? Well, one thing is that most people don’t appreciate what they have until it’s gone. And ‘time’ is one of those things. We can never get more of it, we can never replay it. We have the moment we’re in. Essentially the past and future don’t exist. We have memories and future plans, but all we actually have is now. Right now. Time is our most valuable currency and we have to spend it wisely, make the most of it and and never lose sight of the fact that time wasted cannot be recovered.

So, for now I’ll concentrate on being conscious about how I’m using my time. Being mindful. Staying positive. Every experience we have in life can teach us a valuable lesson. Think about your experiences, even the hard ones can be a positive experience. We can learn and pass our knowledge on to others.

I’ll continue this writing about this journey as it progresses. For now, I have to try and sleep before I head off to work the night shift as a nurse. Have a great day. Learn, stay positive, be kind and thoughtful and don’t be stingy with your love for others. Have a great day!

As I headed into my teenage years, I was already establishing myself as something other than the norm. My personality was spreading out like a blob of mercury, bouncing around from one extreme to the other. I didn’t seem to fit into any social norm. I wasn’t at all perturbed by this but unfortunately, it gave the school bullies a field day. I wouldn’t cave in to their mindless and pathetic attempts to reduce me to tears. The more they doubled their efforts to break me, the more resiliant I became. My mother always told me that her father had been the most stubborn person known to mankind and thankfully, I appear to have inherited a hefty chunk of his DNA. Around this time, I began to realise that the relationship between my mother and father was not as it should have been. I did not see my father on a regular basis. He spent almost every single night in the pub, most nights coming home inebriated. I also began to notice more frequently his odd behviours. He would sit in total silence staring at the wall and regularly sabotage events my mother has arranged with family friends, by retiring to bed and staying there. Eventually, the friends drifted away, which led my mother to become increasingly isolated. As an adult, I’m truly horrified about some of the things my mother was put through, but those aren’t things that are relevant to this particular story. As a child I was told by my father that I was useless and ugly and there was a general feeling that at times he would rather I hadn’t been born, infact I remember recieving an email from him once stating that very fact.

Bearing that in mind, I journeyed through various phases. I followed pursuits that interested me and some that didn’t. I went through a very brief phase of having my head shaved and joining a large skinhead gang. I hated it. The mindless violence and drug taking that I wanted no part of and did not engage in brought that phase to a very quick ending. On another occasion I remember walking into the assembly hall of the large city comprehensive school I attended a year or so later, having crafted myself the most wonderful red mohican hairstyle; the first in the school. I felt very proud of my courageous deed. The teachers were not of the same mindset and deemed it unsuitable for school, but the hairstyle remained. I had a knack of cheeky, humerous persuasion, which at times clearly worked well for me.

I always had a passion for the creative side of things such as Art, English, reading and drama. My childhood dream was always been to become an actress. At home there was a very large tree that hed been cut down in out back garden. It was my childhood stage. I used to stand on this tree stump and act out all my imaginary characters to anyone who would listen and I dare say that at times I drove the street bonkers, with my childhood fantasy ramblings. I was in every school play going as a leading character. I spent school holidays attending drama groups and performing in large city theatres, but as my teenage years progressed and the prospect of either university or earning a living loomed before me, I was discouraged from following my dream. Instead, I left school after my A-Levels and trained as a psychiatric nurse. I had absolutely no idea whatsoever what was in store for me. I knew nothing about mental health. I was in for some real life education!

The school of nursing was based in an old victorian asylum. It was literally a self contained town. Surrounded by high, black stone walls, the asylum required virtually no input from the outside world. It had its own church, laundry, shops, bank. The only thing that was sourced externally was food.

I will never forget my first day there as a young, naive student nurse. The year was 1985 and in those days psychiatric nurses still wore uniforms that had to be immaculately presented. I entered through the main doors into a vast, gloomy interior that stunk of stale urine, faeces, body odour and cigarette smoke. Patients walked around in the corridors leading off the entrance hall, dressed in clothes that looked either way too small, or ridiculously large. Some people lay or sat on the floor. They all seemed to have a ghostly, haunted look about them and most moved as though heavily sedated. As I arrived home after that first day and told my mother about my experience, she asked whether I would be returning again. Whilst I had no desire to, I had forfeited my chance to attend university and along with the determination to never, ever give up, I did in fact stick out the three long years of training. I qualified and found myself, as a young twenty one year old, second in charge of a large, mixed ward. Second in charge to the most feared ‘Sister’ in the entire hospital. She was a bully. A monster. As I had already had plenty of experience with bullies, I stood up to her, which only fired her temper even more and led to many, many unpleasant shifts.

It was not the life I had envisioned for myself and each working day was preceded by intense feelings of dread. It was around this time that I began to realise that there had to be more to life then this. There had to be. I could not envisage spending the rest of my working life in such an unhealthy environment. Things were about to change for me. I was about to be catapulted into a totally different world. Experiences I had never dreamt of would become a reality. Some amazing and some that would fill me with fear. Fear for my life. First I was to be seduced. Seduced by a master manipulator, who would define my life for the next twenty two years. These were the years when my life would take on a totally surreal nature. Plunge me into the depths of despair, depression and addiction.

1966 — England won the World Cup and on a more insignificant note…I was born.

My mother had an exciting labour. She was entertained by the prostitutes circling the dimly lit streets far below her. Every now and again one of them would disappear up one of the dark alleyways that spread like spider legs away from the old maternity hospital. They would reappear a short while later hastily rearranging scant clothing, it must have been bitterly cold in the freezing March air, wearing little more then a bra and a belt that doubled as a skirt. One could only hope that their exploits stoked a little heat.

My mother was german and living with my english father in the large, northern city of Sheffield. The native accent was so strong that it was more or less an entirely different language to the ‘Queens English’ my mother had been taught. Consequently, when my mother tried to explain that the gas and air pain relief she was offered was ineffective, the only reply she received was,

‘Tha’ needs to suck ’arder luv.’

It later transpired that the tube connecting the gas and air to the mouthpiece was disconnected, so my mother pushed me out sans pain relief, without uttering a word more. It goes without saying that my mother, though of small stature (she is less than 5' tall) is a lady of immense strength, humility and self restraint.

The Early years:

I was an only child. The above mentioned trauma had nothing to do with this, so I have been told.

I was named ‘Ginette’ after one of my father’s heroines, Ginette Neveu. The lady was a French violinist, who was sadly killed at the age of thirty in a plane crash, along with the French boxing champion Marcel Cerdan. Unfortunately, her coffin was confused with another victim, who had already been buried before the mistake was discovered.

The theme of the violin runs thickly through my early years. My father had wanted to become a famous violinist, but through the stress of pushing too hard to accomplish his dreams, he suffered a nervous breakdown, which came to light one day when he was taking a bath and heard a voice instructing him that he was in fact Mozart. His dreams came to an end, but were then imposed on me with a strict regimen of hours and hours of practice, concerts and inpromptu performances in front of house guests. This all came to a rather inglorious end after I had spent a lot of time secretly recording myself playing and had used the tape to try and trick my father in to thinking that I was downstairs practicing arduously. I made the fatal mistake of playing outside with a ball that I repeatedly hit against the side of the house. My father obviously realised that although his young daughter was talented, she was not able to be simultaneously practicing the violin downstairs, whilst also playing ball outside. My rouse was discovered and I was in the shit house for some considerable time afterwards.

The good, the bad and the quite frankly butt ugly parts of my childhood:

The bad bits were fear. Fear of my father, his temper and the way he treated my mother. He was and still is a great intellectual who scared the crap out of me. He was a phenominal mathematician and professional photographer. He lectured, was a Design Engineer and drinker of huge amounts of alcohol. I was in awe of him and could never live up to his grand expectations of me. This left me with a lifelong, deep seated doubt about my own abilities, or lack of.

Parent’s please bear in mind, that your actions and words have huge impacts on your children!

I remember being thrown out of the house in the snow, with only a t-shirt, jeans and no shoes. I remember being whacked. I remember being told that I was SO ugly he couldn’t bear to look at my face — on that occassion I had come home from school for lunch, had done nothing wrong and had to return to school with my usual smiley, cheery face showing outwardly, whilst inside I had crumbled and was struggling to try and rebuild the little self esteem I had.

The ugly parts are intertwined with the bad so much so that they are insepperable. An awful lot has been buried beneath layers of grit and though I acknowledge them when they break through, I tend to put my past problems in little ‘mind boxes’, where they stay tucked away for prolonged periods. I accept and acknowldge that they are there and periodically, maybe once every five years or so, I will cry uncontrollably, for hours, until my eye’s resemble that of a Bubble Eye goldfish (google them, they are real!)

The good things are great, awesome, they are the things that I feel have shaped me the most. Tiny wedges of memories that spread a golden glow of happiness through me. Favourite books, new shoes from Clarks — despite the fact my feet were so wide it would have been far cheaper to strap the shoe boxes to my feet; bizzarely, it was the soles of which I was more obsessed with than the uppers. The clothes my mother used to lovingly make for me, because we were too poor to buy the high street garments. The way that my mother filled me with confidence when other children made fun of my unusual clothes, telling me that they were unique, just like me and were stiched with love, knitted with warmth and each and every item had a special bit of mummy intwined in it’s making. Waking through piles of golden wet leaves in autumn. Sledging for hours until fingers and toes were blue and totally numb. Playing out in the scorching sun, the tar from the roads sticking to the bare soles of my feet. Painting fantasy scenes — usually castles, on sheets of old woodchip wallpaper. Playing with wild abandon in the woods. Sneaking rides on friends bicycles because my parents couldn’t afford to buy me one. Spending Christmas’s in Germany with my Oma and Opa, uncles, aunts and cousins. My mother’s brother was a prominent architect and his house was out of this world, ultra modern and so sophisticated. My mother would always be sad, returning to our small, cold home in England. I would be already looking forward to our next visit…and I guess that that hope has been my life strength.

As with everybody, my childhood shaped me. Like the lump of shapeless clay the potter throws at the wheel, we are moulded and shaped by life. Some of us break in the firing, some of us become stronger and remerge from the fire of life’s kiln hardened and determined.

Hope and Determination:

These have been the qualities that have pulled me through the utterly horriffic and traumatic events that awaited me in adulthood. They are the events that even I look back on and wonder, just how on earth I am alive today. How I pulled through those events that shaped, warped and broke my life for so many of my adult years. I’m here, writing about me, in the hope that someone out there will be able to grasp at a strand of hope. To see and understand that out of the depths of fear, pain, rejection and hurt that a life can be rebuilt. That inside us all is a fabulous resiliance to rebuild that which has been broken and razed to the ground. I’ve seen it in myself, I’ve seen it in other’s and my life is dedicated to helping others achieve things they thought were outwith their reach. Every second of every day we can start afresh. We don’t need a New Year, a better week, more money. We just need us.

That small bundle of pink flesh with a fuzzy mop of jet black hair that was born amidst the seedy nightlife of an industrial city way back in 1966 remains strong. She has grown in so many ways and continues to do so.

This is my story. This is the simple, easy Part 1. I was in for a stormy ride, thank god I didn’t know what was coming. You’ll find out more in Part 2.

For now — thank you for reading and remember…when one door closes, that’s what they do. They’re doors. Kick the next one open, don’t wait for someone to pass you the key, it may never happen. Be accountable for you!

Yesterday, I felt like I was going to suffer a meltdown. Why? Because my annual leave was almost over and I was returning to the treadmill of work.

My work involves long hours. I am a Charge Nurse for Acute Mental Health Services and my day begins at 05:15am when I get up for work. I usually arrive home no earlier than 21:00pm — quite often later, at which time I have to get straight into bed, in order to get enough sleep to be capable of functioning at work the next day. This is my life. I don’t get to spend much time with my family and quite often I have to attend training days/meetings on my days off. Quite frankly, it’s unsustainable…but I have bills to pay and a family to look after, so I carry on doing what I’m doing, whilst wondering, ‘what on earth is life all about?’

I’ve reached that point in life, when I’m really thinking about turning my passions into a living.

I’m a Personal Trainer and passionate about photography, art and writing.

I have options. But at the moment those options have limits. Time is the big one. I don’t have enough time to meaningfully grow my options into a living. I live in a small medieval market town, so the options for working as a Personal Trainer are limited. I could start training on line, but that would require a time input that I simply don’t have. The same goes for my photography, art and writing. They all need that valuable asset of ‘time’ to begin to grow them into a business. I have had a children’s book published internationally, so I am well aware of the time it takes. So essentially, without the valuable asset of time, I’m stuck.

Millions of people around the world are ‘stuck’, just like me. Stuck in jobs that they feel they have to endure because of the bills they have to pay. So life, for many of us has become nothing more than an endurance event. A feat of financial survival, with little to no joy.

It’s no wonder that alcohol and drug use is increasing as a means of self medication. Little wonder that mental health issues are rising at an unprecedented speed…and I should know…I treat people on a daily basis who’s lives are affected by mental ill health.

So what can we do about it?

The more research I am able to do, the more I realise that it takes a feat of courage to turn your back on safety. To hand your notice in and pursue your dreams of a better life. Realising what exactly constitutes a better life seems to be half the battle. To see that the materialistic world we get sucked into through social media is not neccessarily the ‘happy life.’

We have become a slave to our ‘wants.’ Instead of realising that if our ‘needs’ are met, we can truly experience happiness.

There’s a huge difference between needs and wants. Wants are driven by external factors, which can be incredibly powerful. Just think about the billions of pounds/dollars spent on advertising — which is all about persuading us that our lives will be better/more exciting/more fullfilled with the latest consumer products.

I’m withdrawing from the need for material goods. I’ve lived in million pound houses. I’ve sent my children to the same private schools that British royalty has attended and I’ve driven the epitomy of luxury cars. What did it all bring me? Nothing. I left it all behind to start a new life.

In order to start that new life I needed an income and so I got a job I was qualified to do. That job was and is a means to an end. Do I dislike nursing and helping people with mental health issues? No. I have a passion for helping people. There’s no feeling on earth as good as genuinely helping someone in difficulty, but I feel constrained in my current position. Locked on to a unit for a minimum of twelve hours a day. Tied up with rules and regulations and the expectancy of completing twenty fours of work in twelve. It’s uneccessary stress. I can help people in other, just as valuable and meaningful ways.

So, I’ve decided to become that brave person. I decided to put a time limit on my current source of stress and tell myself that the job I currently do will not be for ever. I will commit to making a happy life for myself and my family. In 2019 I will quit my job and follow my dreams. I will not become a slave to a life that is nothing more then an endurance test. We only get one life and as long as our basic needs are met, why should we endure years of unhappiness in jobs that cause us untold dread and misery? We deserve to be happy, each and every one of us. Our children deserve to have parents that are present in their lives, not out working every possible hour and depressed and stressed when they are at home.

Think what is really important and precious to you. Think about what you actually need, not want. Teach your children not to become greed driven individuals, but happy and contented people.

I’ve sat on both sides of the fence and believe me, the truly happy individual is the richest person of all!

So, for me, the remainder of 2018 will all be about preparation. Working out exactly how much money I need to survive each month and planning how I will achieve that using the resources I already have. How I can use my passions and creativity to achieve happiness in my life and my families life. There are plenty of people who have chosen to enjoy life and not merely endure it. I am one of those people.

I will write here weekly as an act of accountability. I will say exactly how happy or frightened I am. I will share my successes and undoubtedly, when things don’t go according to plan and I learn the better way forward, I will share that too.

I’m fifty two years old, so no spring chicken… but I have the heart and mental energy/enthusiasm that I had as an eighteen year old. I don’t believe in failure. I believe in trying hard, learning from mistakes and misfortune. Focusing and self belief. Never giving up hope of better things and my greatest wish would be that I can pave the way for others to follow. I’m laying my foundations right now…exciting and happy times are ahead!

In our increasingly stressful life, so many of us have seemingly lost the ability to read our own, individual ‘guidance systems.’

It’s as though as adults, we are regressing to a time in our lives where we sought the advice of someone older and wiser to guide us. We seem afraid to take responsibility for making decisions about ourselves.

Book stores are awash with ‘Self-Help, ‘Guides to Get Rich Quick’ and ‘The Latest wonder Diet’ books….but come on, do we really need them, or are we all falling prey to the belief that other people know us better then we know ourselves?

We seem to have lost the innate common sense that we were born with.

Put simply, if you are stressed, you know you are. You do not need to pay an expert to tell you that. You will know the source, or sources of your stress. You do not need an expert to tell you why you are stressed and YES, you do know what to do about it!

More often then not, removing a source of stress, or unhappiness involves making uncomfortable, even scary decisions. For some reason, if we pay someone to tell us the solution, we feel validated in making those uncomfortable decisions, because if it all goes wrong we feel we have someone else to blame. It’s our ‘get out’ clause.

But here’s the rub. Every decision you make ultimately comes down to you and you alone. If someone offers you bad advice and you take it and the outcome is terrible…guess what…it was still your decision and therefore your responsibility.

It therefore stands to reason that you actually have the ability to cut out the middle man. The man who is making decisions for you. You do not need someone else to tell you your stress triggers; work, relationships etc. You have choices, quit the stressful job, ditch the toxic relationship. Not easy decisions, but ones that have to be made if you want to be able to solve your own issues.

The more you realise you have control over your own life, the more your self confidence increases. Diet? Do you really need someone to tell you what, how and when to eat? Of course you don’t. We all know healthy and unhealthy foods. We all know if you eat too much and move too little you will gain weight. Simple.

You may be thinking that ‘I can’t quit that stressful job that’s driving me to a heart attack or mental ill health, because I have bills to pay.’ Again, tough decision, but the benefits of taking on a less stressful job, downsizing, taking control of financial debts by reducing expenditure are going to lead to massive long term benefits.

You really do have control over your life. You really do have the capacity to make the decisions that you think only other ‘experts’ can make. You made your life the way it is now, and you can also change the way your life is now. Start small, build your self esteem, believe in yourself and become your own expert.

As a mental health professional, working in the Acute psychiatric services I get to see a lot of self destruction. It’s something I work with on a daily basis. I began wondering why, as society becomes ever more sophisticated does the incidence of mental illness appear to increase?

Life, at it’s base level is about survival. Survival and procreation. Ensuring that our genetic line continues. If we look at Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, we can clearly see that if our base biological and physiological needs are not met we cease to exist. Moving up to level two we have to ensure that safety needs are met…and from thereon up, we have a problem. A very big problem.

Maslow’s remaining three tiers are as follows:

3. Love and belongingness needs.

4. Esteem needs.

5. Self — actualisation needs.

This is where everything starts to invert. Where we have all veered off the path of logic and like sheep, have sauntered into the territory of the wolf.

It is now rarer to see a family stay intact. Divorce is the norm. Trust, respect, giving, affection and love are now prized rarities, when they should be the norm.

Esteem needs. Oh yes, that little gem…esteem. Maslow indicated that the ‘need’ for respect and reputation was most important for children and adolescents. My, my…just look at the high achievers in life. The entrepreneurs who live for the respect/reverance of others and how the need for ‘reputation’ has gained an all consuming importance, over and beyond the importance of trust and friendship.

Finally, Maslow states the self — actualisation needs. The things that absolutely dominate our societies ideals; peak experiences, personal growth, personal potential and a desire to become everything that one is capable of becoming. These things in themselves are good things to strive for, but in what context?

We strive to for personal potential and self -fulfilment and this usually means that we aim for high flying achievements, usually in the work place. In the meantime, the potential to be the best father/mother/brother or sister gets swept by the wayside. How many entrepreneurs spend their life achieving financial success, only to end up in a court room with an irrate wife waving divorce papers at a man she has seen virtually nothing of, but has substituted his presence with a fat bank account. And by the way, it could just as easily be the man in court waving the papers.

Now, before you think I’m some embittered woman who has been on the recieving end of this, you’re only half correct. I was very comfortable financially but incredibly unhappy emotionally. I walked away without waving costly divorce papers…I walked away with a few bags of clothes and never asked or wanted for more. I started my life over again. I’m a professional health worker, I’m also the owner of a company who trades internationally, so I am not against people working hard to earn a good living.

What I find disturbing is the fact that we seem to be pushed ever further into the realms of judging people on the size of their bank account, house or the car they drive. The latest designer clothes and jewellery. This is washed over us daily on social media, through which we gain innaccurate insights into people’s lives that we believe to be true. You know how it goes, people post their latest and greatest acquisitions, but do not post up the ever mounting credit card bills and bank loans. We are pulled and stretched in two ways.

There is a huge tidal wave of ‘self help’ guru’s holding their palm’s out to help you recover from the daily stressors of living. And stress is the big word here.

Stress is killing society. It is destroying individuals, it is destroying families and we all have the collective power to do something about it, before it becomes too late.

The answer lies in simplicity. Simplicity in all things. In relationships, in family life, in self-love. In work. Learn to get back to basics. Learn to indulge yourself in the simple things in life. Spend time making happy memories. Feed yourself simply and healthily. Do not self-medicate with alcohol, tobacco or drugs — you have all the means within you to relax naturally. There is a reason that one of the best selling lines in books is the genre of self help; because we have spent so long prizing the very things in life that harm us. Greed, stress, lack of dignity and integrity. Preference of attaining, rather than giving. When we die, as we all will, we can not take one single thread of clothing with us, nor a single coin. Leave the best legacy you can…that of being a good, honourable person. That will be your immortality. The rich individual who died with no family or false friends will be forgotton by tomorrow.

START WITH HAPPY.

I am probably like most people reading this…I have shelves of ‘Self-Help’, ‘Motivation’, ‘Success’ and ‘Change Your Life Now’ books. Most of which are only partly read. Despite spending a small fortune on these books and despite the fact that for a few, precious moments I actually believed that I was benfiting from the advice of these Sage’s words, my life did not change in glorifying, spectacular brilliance. Within a short space of time of closing the pages of these books and putting them down, the wheel of my life had begun turning again in the direction I was so desperately trying to change.

I felt as though I were in a car, without a steering wheel and someone else had control of the accelerator. All these suggestions of ‘procrastinate less, do more’, believe you can and you will’, ask the universe and you’ll get it’ just weren’t working for me. If anything, they were compounding my sense of hoplessness and underlining the fact that everyone else was being a success, whilst I was falling further and further away from achieving my dreams.

I even tried the motivational diaries/planners. Yes, you know those that take up until lunchtime to fill in, overly complcated and helping you only to state the obvious that you already know: Circle the sad face whan you’ve had a shitty day. Hell, let’s just reinforce how hopeless you are.

Well, I figured out that the biggest winners in this game are the writers and publishers. If these books worked, then why are there so many of them, why are they all selling so well and most importantly, why do we feel we NEED them.

I’ll let you into a little secret. You don’t. You have everything you need inside you, right here and right now. Our brains are the world’s ‘super computers.’ You don’t need someone else to programme your personal super computer, you can do it YOURSELF!

We have become so accustomed to believing that other people’s conceptions of happiness are greater than our own beliefs. This is wrong. You do not need someone else’s ideal bank account sum, someone else’s dream car, someone else’s dream partner or home. You need what’s right for you for your own personal happiness and only YOU know what that is.

More stress is caused by believing what someone else tells us we need to be happy. Learn to believe in yourself and create what’s right for you. In this ever increasing global phenomenon of wealth chasers, materialistic hoarder’s and greed addicts, it’s time to learn to switch off. Turn off the computer, the mobile phone and appreciate the truly magnificent ‘free’ things around you. Do what YOU want to do in life in a selfless way that does not leave family and friends by the wayside, because whilst you’re being ‘super’ disciplined and dedicated to achieving success these are the people who will suffer and ultimately leave you to it…alone.

Aim to be rich in the things that matter in life. Love, appreciation and gratitude do not require you to be a billionaire. The worlds richest people do not have the fattest bank accounts, they have the biggest hearts. The worlds richest people are loved because of who they are, not what they have. If you want to learn anything. Learn to be happy and give of it freely. Don’t buy into the stress ridden socity that is becoming today’s modern plague.

Just. Be. Happy