Strength Prose Issue #3: In Association With Mental Health Muscle. by Strength Prose

ISSUE #3 July 2019

Strength Prose Issue #3

Editor’s Note. This issue is all about mental health. This is something that is, rightly, getting more attention and more understanding in modern day life. Mental health needs to be normalized as a topic for people to talk about—it shouldn’t come with a stigma, nor should we feel we need to hide it due to how others may perceive it or ourselves. This issue will focus on how there is a correlation between those looking to improve their mental health and those who are into their training. As well as how to use training to improve your mental health. This issue will also touch on more of the darker side of mental health—there will be stories, anecdotes and examples provided by some of the authors with a personal touch and you might find these a little hard to read, but they are true and they are important and they, most importantly, are a part of the authors’ lives. To help us with this issue we have Mental Health Muscle on board—you will see a column from their founder, Aaron Clark here. You might also be pleased to know that £1 of your purchase price will go straight to the charity of Mental Health Muscle. I hope you get something from this issue. Danny Lee, Managing Editor.

In This Issue 

Who Are Mental Health Muscle?

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How Fitness is Saving My Life.

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(Mistaken) Identity.

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Many More.

Mental Health Muscle.— Owned by Aaron Clark

Contents.

P.4 Announcements. The latest in Strength Prose news.

P.5 Who Are Mental Health Muscle? By Aaron Clark.

P.6 How Fitness is Saving My Life. By Rose Hughes.

P.10 (Mistaken) Identity. By Adam Roberts.

P.14 Mindfulness Based Interventions & Anxiety By Thomas Regan

P.20 On Dealing with Depression as a Coach. By Sophie Thomas.

P.26 The Hidden Health. By Georgina Creed.

P.28 Why We’re All a Little Mental. By Danny Lee

Contributors. Manager Editor—Danny Lee. Writers—Danny Lee, Aaron Clark, Rose Hughes, Adam Roberts, Thomas Regan, Sophie Thomas and Georgina Creed. Photographers—Ian Lee, Scott Hedges and Martyn Blundell.

New Writers. Aside from Aaron of Mental Health Muscle, which is currently sandwiching this little column, we also have a new writer in the form of Rose Hughes. Collaborating with Aaron means that we are able to raise awareness, and some money for a great mental health charity in the UK.

Aaron presenting to the members/staff at Taylor’s Strength Training

Rose has written an article for us that is extremely personal about her dealings with her mental and physical health. Again, her writing here allows for us to raise even more awareness.

Mental Health Muscle Seminar. One of the main reasons we waited until July to bring you this issue was so that we could experience the Mental Health Muscle seminar hosted in Taylor’s Strength training at the end of June. I won’t go in to too much detail here—I’ll leave that for Aaron to do later in the issue. The seminar covered a variety of topics within Mental Health and training, such as— 

Mental Health vs Mental Illness.

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Social media and its value mentally.

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Wellbeing.

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Nutrition.

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Body Image.

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Self Worth.

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Support.

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Empowerment,

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And much more.

I would highly recommend you go to, or organize, one of these seminars in your gym, workplace or school in order to help educate as many as possible.

New Writer—Rose Hughes

Who Are Mental Health Muscle?

Off the back of our workshop delivery at the awesome Taylor’s Strength weekend in Liverpool I am proud to be writing our first Mental Health Muscle contribution for the Strength Prose magazine. A really great opportunity for me, Aaron Clark, the Founder of the not for profit organisation, to tell you a little bit about us. Mental Health Muscle are a nationally recognised not for profit organisation working to raise awareness of mental health issues within society but utilising fitness, sport and the gym as our driving vehicle for support, interaction and education. It is a key focus of ours to empower communities to build resilience, look after our wellbeing and create strong networks of support and expertise to break down the stigma surrounding mental ill health. I founded the organisation initially to bring together young men to talk about their mental health in the safe and secure space that we all loved in the gym and through iron therapy. That concept soon grew and developed and 16 months later we are operating across the UK, with an amazing team of volunteers and working with incredible people. With the continuous intention to raise as much money as we can through fundraising events, workshops, partnerships, community projects and initiatives; we sponsor, mentor and fund individuals struggling with their mental health into fully paid, yearly memberships at fitness centres, gyms and into physical activity programmes all over the UK. We have so far seen 21 individuals benefit from our work and services directly and many thousands finding a belonging and sanctuary with our ethos and purpose. The opportunity of coming to Taylor’s Strength was great, massive thanks to the Dannys (Lee and Taylor) for having us down and bringing the opportunity to their members. It is so important that these workshops are supported by as many people as possible within the industry and that strong support goes a long way. It immediately helps us in our aim to break down the stigma and challenge the old-guardstatus-quo. What a fantastic audience we had, so much interaction and discussion and a real purpose felt by everyone. The feedback has been brilliant and I cannot thank you all enough for attending and being a part of the movement and the continued spread of Mental Health Muscle and what we do. I am looking forward to writing these monthly columns and hope that over the coming months we are able to share more experiences, discuss important topics around mental health and raise awareness about mental health and exercise in a relative and informative way. Thank you all for your support, please visit our website on www.mentalhealthmuscle.org and/or contact aaron@mentalhealthmuscle.org. Until next time remember we are #StrongerTogether … #MentalHealthMuscle .– Aaron Clark.

How Fitness is Saving My Life. My birth name is Jodi Lauren Hughes and I am 26 in June. I changed my name a few years back to Rose buuuut that’s a story for another time. So, hi! I’m Rose & I’ve battled my entire life with now diagnosed Bipolar Disorder, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and a few years ago I was finally diagnosed with high functioning Aspergers (Autistic Spectrum Disorder). I do also have some pretty hefty physical illness’s but that’s also another story! I first tried to kill myself at the age of 11. Long before that I was already giving my parents one heck of a tough time as a pretty messed up kid. I was lost, different, sad. As a child I was sexually abused by someone outside of the family, for a large chunk of my life and I think that probably contributed to my illness. Ok, not probably, it did. I’ve had pretty much all of the destructive behaviours you’d expect alongside my illness. I got myself into danger. I did drugs. I drank myself silly. I’ve been addicted to things. Multiple sexual partners. I had an abortion when I was 15. Kicked out of schools. Tried to kill myself a lot. Self harm. Anything bad for me- I clung to it. I self sabotage like it’s a hobby. People have had to hold me together for most of my life. Along the way I’ve had so many special interests (most autistic people have this). I’ve been good at a lot of things & never realised my true potential until I went to University in London at the age of 20. Those 3 years tailored the way to me becoming the most self-aware and confident version of myself. As a child I was heavily into performing arts, media, english studies & I was a book worm. I’m actually quite the geek & people immensely underestimate me now because I’m blonde & spend half my life in gyms. Let’s be honest- by stereotype gym folk don’t get the assumption of being smart. *sigh*. But no matter what I’ve done, whatever country or continent I was in, the people I was with; I’ve carried the darkest and scariest demons with me. Always. It’s absolutely insidious. Mental illness is the most isolating world. Some therapists describe mine as personality depression because unlike clinical depression, you’ve probably never known a version of yourself without the darker side. In the past friends have joked that I have Ruby & Rose- a bit like Jekyll & Hyde. Being me means everyday I wake up and have to get to know myself again. It’s a toxic pattern of ups & downs, extreme highs and life shattering lows.

By Rose Hughes.

I have never ‘agreed’ with medications. SSRI’s (selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors) are the commonly prescribed antidepressants & often don’t go down well with bipolar sufferers or anyone on the autistic spectrum. I reacted as badly as you possibly can. I was on Prozac at the age of 12. I’ve taken other kinds of medications such as mood stabilisers & anti-psychotics. I’ve taken loads. Some made me so anxious I wet myself in public. Others had me bed ridden & i lost my job. I was a zombie. One even made me lose my sight intermittently. Anti-psychotics made me fat as hell & blocked my thyroid medication. I suffer with body dysmorphia & self image issues so getting fat isn’t exactly ideal.

IG: @rose.to.recovery

In fact, a big chunk of my life has been recovering from the upset these drugs caused me. For many, and I mean this sincerely, those medications are life saving. However of COURSE there are people like me who just react as badly as you can. I have been in extremely dangerous places on and off medications. Most recently I’ve taken Lithium. The psychiatric team I had during that time (last year) was so useless they didn’t even keep track of how long I’d been on the drug. No alarm bells went off in their heads when I was getting worse.

I ended up abusing myself, losing my mind, dissociating & scaring the heck out of those around me. Last year was probably my worst year of my life to date. Alongside multiple health issues including Sepsis, Shingles and a car wreck, I lost a friend to a horrific death (again), battled with a pretty toxic relationship & had moved to a foreign country & wasn’t finding my feet. I lost my jobs & stopped going to the gym. The gym has been my ONLY long standing & successful medication. From my first year at University I started to go to the gym. This was a slow process because of my anxiety. At times anxiety has had me locked in my room/apartment for up to 3 months unable to go outside alone- not even to the bakery next door. After months of panic attacks sat in the changing room & desperately searching for online programmes to follow, I got into a regime. I lost weight & found people were making comments on my frequent gym use. I ended up winning an award in my second year for my contribution to sport as a person with disabilities. Funnily enough the day I accepted my award from Sport England at University I was two days out of another hospital admission. I had been admitted because I had purposely stopped taking my Addisons Disease medication (I’m dependent on this medication to stay alive or I die) and then got myself into a very dangerous position. I had a fat face accepting that award from the huge dose of corticosteroids I’d been given to survive. I accepted that award with shame & guilt thinking “if only they knew”. The thing is, no matter where I’ve been, what interruptions my life has had, wherever I’ve moved, the gym has been my constant. I can’t live anywhere and not know where the nearest one is. On one hand it’s very triggering for my anxiety and can be difficult, but it is essentially the place I put my noise cancelling headphones on and DISAPPEAR. I walk in & no matter how anxious I might be feeling, by the time I leave I’m dragging myself away. I’m addicted to it. I’ve done body building, powerlifting, spinning, running, swimming, pole fitness, crossfit, yoga, Les Mills, etc. Lately, I’ve been into functional fitness. I’ve educated myself. I’ve followed programmes and written my own. When I left University 3 years ago I qualified with London Muscle (LDNM) Academy as a Lvl 2&3 personal trainer. This was more a personal gain than an actual qualification. It helped me to understand my body more & walk into the gym knowing what to do without worrying if I was doing it wrong.

Whenever I returned to Belgium, where my parents have lived for 11 years, we would always make sure I had a gym membership despite the cost. If not, we found a way for me to get active. Why? Because my parents value their household being calm and the longer I go without being active, the more unwell I become & a danger to myself. Every break up, every-time somebody has died, every-time something went wrong, the gym was my safe haven. Stress? Gym. The feeling? Pff how does one even describe that. I imagine it’s like when you’ve been in immense pain for a long time and you wake up to it being gone. It’s a rush of endorphins that no other activity has ever matched. It’s personal. I go into my own world with a giant F**k Off sign on my forehead & I sweat until I force myself to stop. Over the past 4 years I’ve had 3 big surgeries. One was personal but the other two were to repair both my ACL’s in my knees. The first ACL I destroyed at University. The second I destroyed doing jumping jacks in the gym 2 years later. Both times I’ve had to move back to my parents & completely drop my life. Each time I’ve had to recover. The second time didn’t heal properly and I’ve been in recovery for almost 3 years. I live in Belgium now & I suffer with multiple injuries & issues. This has never stopped me. Since January 2019 I have lost 10kg & I’ve maintained a pretty strong and progressive gym programme again. Without the last 3 months of fitness, I’d be dead. I mean that. I woud have killed myself. I finally got back into it & instantly it’s become my vice again. When 3 days pass without the gym, I end up suicidal, lost and completely lacking in motivation to live.

I used to cut my arms, leg & ribs… I used to sit playing with a box of pain meds in my hand totally unaware of where I was. I sometimes still do but normally when I haven’t been able to train. Sometimes I’m in the gym fighting suicidal ideation or totally numb, other times I’ve high as hell on the vibes & find myself smiling like a weirdo when I hit a PR. Mostly the gym saves me from myself. Even if I am totally out of it, suffering and dissociating, the gym is the SAFEST place for me. I need to train alone. I’m not there to talk. I’m not there to be an ego lifter and I’m sure as hell not there to flirt. It’s SO integral to my recovery & my mind that the gym is ROSE TIME. I wish so much that people could understand and respect that because a week doesn’t go by without some person interrupting that flow. I repeat a little louder- I AM NOT there to flirt. *rolls eyes*. It’s not a social event. Lone wolf Rose is in therapy- leave her be. We have covered a lot of ground here and obviously this is a pretty diluted version of my story. What I do have to stress is that for a lot of people- this just isn’t how things work. My gym relationship isn’t for everyone. It’s not a BAD thing if you don’t find the gym anything but a challenge or a chore. What I do now is that in my experience, not trying means you will never know… I’m not saying you need to go & buy all the gym products, clothes & shovel pre workout down your throat. Nope, even just a light stroll down the blooming road with your music or your dog will probably get you out of sitting at home & ruminating over dangerous thoughts. The truth is I am aware this is my future as well as my past. People like Stephen Fry, Catherine Zeta Jones and Jim Carey have really helped me to come to terms with the fact there isn’t a CURE, there is only finding ways to cope. I found mine. I think even if my Ehlers Danlos Syndrome takes its toll one day & I follow my mum into the use of a wheelchair, I’ll still be finding ways into the gym. My aims, goals & motivations will always change. I’ll keep having periods where I get lost & I stop training & lose my way, sure. But I know the love I have for fitness and how it’s keeping me alive is the only sure fact I can hold onto. It’s THAT deep.

(Mistaken) Identity Many fans of the Christopher Nolan Batman Trilogy will remember this line from a certain vigilante billionaire, “It’s not who I am underneath, but what I do that defines me”. And he couldn’t be more wrong. Or, at least in the context of this article. One lesson that I’ve learned over the last couple of years is that it’s very risky to base your identity on something that you do, whether it be your job, the sport you compete in or even a hobby. Why? Because if you lose that thing that you identify as, who are you then? And it’s this loss of identity than can, for so many who compete in sports, lead to a decline in mental, as well as physical, health. In fact, Bruce Wayne himself fell into a deep depression and became even more of a social recluse between the events of The Dark Knight and The Dark Knight Rises. After the whole thing with The Joker and the death of his childhood sweetheart, he hung up the cape and cowl, retired from a life of fighting crime, and essentially lost the one thing that he used to defined himself. You may have been there yourself. I have. Not the vigilante billionaire kicking the crap out of bad guys part… I used to think of myself as a Powerlifter, I now prefer to think that I do Powerlifting. The same applies to Strongman. I am not a Strongman, I do Strongman. Why is this distinction important? If I have some sort of unfortunate injury that stops me from doing one or both of these sports, in the past it would have lead to a feeling of lost identity. Whereas, now, I’m far less likely to have the same emotional response. By Adam Roberts. IG: @ar_strengthcoaching

It doesn’t even have to be injury. I can think of a few examples of Powerlifters, or rather, people who Powerlift, that have placed so much pressure on themselves, to perform at certain levels, that it has taken the fun out of their sport to the point where they no longer have a desire to step out onto the platform. Some reading this might think, “well it’s only a sport”, right? Not if taking part in that sport defines a large part of your identity, the way you view yourself and your place in the world. The good news is, the people I had in mind have reinvented themselves, much like David Bowie or Madonna over the years, they have found a way to take their passion and talent in other directions. Instead of training becoming something they dread, a chore rather than enjoyable, they’ve found other hobbies and sports to pursue, this time in a much healthier manner. The main takeaway I want readers of this article to have is that training should be a fun and enjoyable experience. It’s the path of self-improvement after all. It should not be a chore. I always ask my clients how long they plan on training for. The answer is usually something along the lines of “as long as I can, until my body decides I just can’t anymore”. Now for most people that could be 20, 30, hell maybe even 40+ years. What’s 6 months? What’s a year? Let’s say you do Weightlifting, you develop knee pain and you have to take some time off from training the full Snatch, the full Clean and Jerk, and maybe squats. A minor injury will likely resolve itself somewhere around 3-6 months in my experience, give or take a month or two.

Are you still a Weightlifter despite not being able to do these things? Absolutely. Your first step is to reassure yourself that you are hurt but not broken, you will heal in time. The next step is to assess what movements and exercises you can do without pain. This could mean reducing the load on the bar, your training volume/frequency, the range of motion or changing the exercises completely. If you can’t do a full Clean or Snatch but you can do Power variations without pain then do those. If you can’t perform a full High Bar Squat but you could do a Low Bar Squat to a box, then at least you can still do some form of Squats while you rehab. Eventually, most injuries will resolve themselves, your reported pain will have reduced and you will be able to return to your normal exercise activities. This process can, however, take a lot longer and be a much more unpleasant experience if you take a narrow view of proceedings, with your identity as a Weightlifter under threat. Whereas, a person who does Weightlifting and understands that in the grand scheme of their lifting career, this is just a minor setback, and who can remove any pressure to perform certain movements or exercises for the amount of time it takes to heal, will find this a smoother, less stressful process. The less stress you experience throughout this period will make it seem shorter and easier to manage. Trust the process. I often try to encourage my clients to be as process oriented, rather than goal oriented, as possible. If you put one foot in front of the other you will get closer to your goal destination, if you are always focused on the finish line it might look like it’s getting further away. The best example I can give for this is Ross Edgley, who became the first man to swim around the coast of mainland Great Britain without stepping foot on dry land. This mammoth task took 157 days, up to 12 hours of swimming a day. I followed the Redbull documentary series on Youtube throughout and one of the main things I took from watching Ross’s efforts was his advice on just focusing on the process. He explained how he would just put all of his energy in to thinking about the next stroke and being in the moment, often resorting to telling himself stories and jokes to get through it. If he’d spent his hours at sea thinking of how far he still had to go, how far he was away from the finish line and how long it would take to get there, he may never have succeeded. I think this is one of the greatest achievements in the field of exercise in recent times, and it started as an experiment to see what the human body is capable of. It also became a lesson in how to face adversity. Swimming against a current, not moving forward, just fighting to not lose ground but knowing that as soon as the current calms you can keep going.

Regardless of your sport or hobby, regardless of whatever setbacks or adversity you face on your journey, trust the process. If you are injured or have fallen out of love with your sport, refocus your attention on what you can do, what you do enjoy and keep improving. Keep moving forward. Put one foot in front of the other, focus on each rep or set at a time and you will reach your destination. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s always been a question of when, not if.

Mindfulness Based Interventions & Anxiety Even though Mindfulness has been around since the dawn of Buddhist time (2,500 years in fact), it has only been a concept in western culture since the 1970’s through the work of Kabat-Zlinn. Mindfulness is a concept “to observe thoughts, bodily sensations or feelings in the present moment with an open and accepting orientation toward one's experiences” (Spijkerman, Pots & Bohlmeijer, 2016, p 102). As Mindfulness is a fairly ‘new’ concept, there have been many mindfulness based therapies, also known as Mindfulness Based Interventions (MBI), that could aid people with mental health problems such as anxiety (Green & Bieling, 2012;), risk of relapse for depression (Kuyken et al., 2008), current depressive symptoms (Strauss, Cavanagh, Oliver, & Pettman, 2014), stress (Chiesa & Serretti, 2009), quality of life (Godfrin & van Heeringen, 2010; Kuyken et al., 2008), and psychological symptoms in patients with cancer (Ledesma & Kumano, 2009). As you can see, Mindful Based Interventions (MBI’s) have been effective to alleviate mental health problems, but also in ‘healthy’ populations (Spijerman et al., 2016). This article will try digest MBI’s through effective research rather than from my own experiences. I feel that it would be unfair and disrespectful to portray how great mindfulness is for people with mental health disorders without experiencing it myself. Nevertheless, this article will be insightful, educational and, most importantly, a revelation into Mindfulness and Mental Health.

Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction The most common MBI is Kabat-Zlinn’s Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction (MBSR) which was the first therapy to introduce Mindfulness to aid patients with chronic pain. In the general population, MBSR is used to help with stress, anxiety, and depression mitigation (Virgili, 2015). MBSR may help individuals calm their mind and body, make better judgments in life, and enhance self-capability to cope with various stressful situations (Carmody et al., 2009).

By Thomas Regan IG: @psych_elite

Kabat Zlinn’s programme consists of: 

Eight 2.5-hour weekly sessions and one 7-hour day of silence.

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45 minutes of daily exercise at home, 6 days a week, with the support of CDs and set tasks. Which includes;

1. the body scan (paying attention to what the body is feeling); 2. sitting meditation (paying attention to breathing, sounds, thoughts, bodily sensations, feelings/emotions); 3. simple movement exercises such as walking or standing meditation, or lying yoga exercises (paying attention to what the body is feeling; exploring and accepting borders); 4. informal meditation exercises: paying full attention to daily activities (e.g., brushing one’s teeth, taking a shower, mindful eating).

MBSR & Anxiety and Depression There are many forms of anxiety, this paragraph will focus on Social Anxiety Disorder (SAD) & General Anxiety Disorder (GAD) as it includes self-criticism, low self-esteem, and an exaggerated focus on perceived deficient characteristics of the self (Jazaieri, et al., 2012). It could be argued that most anxiety disorders include these characteristics. Mindfulness-based treatments for SAD have been shown to improve mood, functionality, and quality of life (Kocovski et al., 2009), reduce anxiety and depressive symptoms (Goldin & Gross, 2010), and increase self-esteem (Goldin & Gross, 2010). In addition, a small open trial for patients with General Anxiety Disorder indicated that an 8 week mindfulness course significantly reduced their anxiety, tension, worry and depressive symptoms (Evans et al., 2007). However, there was no significance of becoming more ‘mindful’ even though there was a positive mean increase. This showing that MBSR has a positive effect on anxiety disorders to an extent. Furthermore, MBSR has been found to have significantly decreased social anxiety, perceived stress and improved mental well-being and perception of loneliness. Further evidence, in the adolescent mental health population, established that MBSR had aided their perceived mood and reduction in anxiety and stress (Van Vliet, et al., 2017). This is perhaps not surprising given existing research showing MBSR to ameliorate anxiety in youth (Bluth et al., 2015). A systematic review, found that MBSR was an effective treatment modality for reducing stress and anxiety (Rodrigues, Nardi & Levitan, 2017). Rodrigues et al., (2017) also found that meditation reduced anxiety symptoms in patients with GAD. Anxiety disorders are centered on “excessive worrying about future events and negative thoughts” (op cit, p 214). In spite of the effectiveness of MBSR, it remains inconclusive that MBSR reduces depression in individuals. For example, Jazaieri et al, (2012) found that change in depression was not significantly better for the MBSR group compared to the control group (no intervention). Expanding on this, Van Vliet et al., (2017) participants did not mention feeling ‘happier’ or ‘less depressed as a result of the MBSR intervention. Not to mention Toneastto & Nguyen (2007)’s study that proposed that when active control groups were used, MBSR did not show an effect on depression or anxiety. Indicating that other factors might become important to aid depression and anxiety. In conclusion, MBSR helps decrease worry, negative thoughts, social anxiety, anxiety symptoms and improves mental well-being. Even though it is an effective tool to for anxiety (Rodrigues, Nardi & Levitan, 2017), there is inconclusive evidence that it helps with depression itself (Van Vliet et al.2017; Jazaieri et al., 2012; Toneastto & Nguyen, 2007).

Mindfulness Based Cognitive Therapy The second most common is Segal, Williams, & Teasdale’s Mindfulness Based Cognitive Therapy (MBCT), respectively (Segal, Williams, & Teasdale, 2003;2013). This was developed to prevent relapse into depression. MBCT has become the most important adaptation of MBSR (Williams, 2008). This is also an eight-week group based therapy in which the programme teaches mindfulness skills through a range of formal and informal practices that are basically the same as MBSR. The programme “emphasizes acceptance rather than a change of strategies, and it offers no training on changing the content of thoughts, but rather encourages viewing thoughts as thoughts instead of reflections of reality” (Rodrigues et al.,2017, p210). This demonstrating that without attaching a thought to an emotion, without judging the thought, could aid anxiety and depression.

MBCT and Anxiety & Depression MBCT combines Mindfulness and Cognitive Therapy to reduce the the recurrence of depression (Hoffman & Gome, 2017). According to Creswell (2017), MBCT is effective in reducing the recurrence of depression. Furthermore, other studies have supported this as MBCT may be most effective in preventing relapse among individuals with the greatest risk of relapse (Ma & Teasdale, 2004), reducing acute depressive symptoms (Strauss et al.,2014) and increasing quality of life (Segal et al., 2010). In addition, it has been stated that there was a significant reduction in selfreported suicidal thoughts with individuals with depression (Forkmann et al., 2014) which shows the level of effectiveness of this type of therapy. But why is MBCT so effective in reducing the recurrence of depressive symptoms?

Neurological Changes Interestingly, the insula (the part of the brain that aids motor control, perception and self-awareness) had increased activation after the 8 week MBCT intervention. Also, the amygdala (fight or flight response) significantly reduced in activity whilst increased prefrontal activity, hippocampal activity occurred (Gotink et al, 2016). Thus showing that doing MBCT can induce emotional and behavioural change. However, more work needs to be done as studies have only been done on small populations even though Gotink et al., (2016) was a review of all literature. It could be argued, without a higher population, it cannot be generalised to the whole population.

Emotional Awareness There was a large significance in Emotional Regulation overtime within the treatment group as the control group was not significant (De Jong et al., 2016). Even though the effect size was small, Bornemann et al. (2015) found that significant increases of scores of Emotional Awareness following 3 months of body scan and breath awareness training. Thus showing that there is an association between mindfulness and general emotional awareness. Overall, studies support the notion that body awareness mediated the effect of MBCT on depressive symptoms (De Jong et al., 2016).

However, MBCT reduced depressive symptoms post treatment compared to a well-matched active control programme but did not significantly differ from control groups. This suggesting that MBCT is a good tool to use but not strong enough to impact full disorder remission (Hoffman & Gomez, 2017). Despite this, most evidence shows that MBCT has an overall significant effect on reducing acute depressive symptoms (Strauss et al.,2014). Summary In summary, MBSR and MBCT have been found to improve depressive symptoms, anxiety, stress, quality of life, depression, anxiety disorders, other mental disorders and in prevention in healthy adults and children. As this is a fairly new concept, more research will have to be done in this field but it is looking positive. Supporting MBIâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s, it will be the future of research and therapy to help people with mental health problems and also the general population,in my opinion.

On Dealing With Depression as a Coach

Serendipity often plays a cruel hand in the art of writing and content creation. I’ve often found that inspiration strikes at the most inopportune of moments; case in point, here I am, writing about mental health in the fitness industry, when someone incredibly close and special to me has recently tried to take their own life. My article here had actually originally intended to be science-based. To be waxing lyrical all things amygdala, dopaminergic system, serotonin, and tricking the brain into being less of a dick to you. To namedrop Rogers, gestaltism, and all the great and wonderful psychologists who have helped shaped the world of brain science for the better - in the efforts to improve lives. But nah. Sorry, folks. Unforeseeable events took that lovely, organised and fluid idea and transmogrified it into something wild and unruly. (Funnily enough, not unlike the brain when one is mentally ill, in the first place.) There’s enough science communication in me for another day; another article, rather. But today’s all about the soul and emotion, baby.

PART I: ON DEPRESSION AND THE WOUNDED HEALER Drawing upon the esoteric and somewhat inane stereotype, it’s long been heralded that those who suffer themselves tend to try alleviate the pain of others. It makes sense - after all, a person fully aware of how low the human spirit can sink how catastrophic that can feel, will do their utmost to help people avoid that same pit of demonic snakes grasping at their neurological tendrils of sanity. And, yes. There is a paradigm, cushioned deep within the confines of psychoanalysis, selfmastery, and peppered among conversations between inebriated young women in bathrooms across the globe. By Sophie Thomas IG: @sofitee

This paradigm, my friends, is a Jungian concept - an archetype - known as the Wounded Healer. In other words, our own suffering has the capacity to heal others. Rather than seeing trauma as a festering poison, I think it's wise to express gratitude for what they truly offer: strength, courage, empathy, and wisdom. Wisdom we can impart onto our fellow cosmic creatures, in an effort to reduce agony all over. Wisdom, knowing that, as we too have experienced such depths of pain, we can help reduce it to make the world a better place - and other people's lives lighter; happier. Consequently, as Jung notes, it's important as coaches, comrades, or confidants to check ourselves before we wreck ourselves. To work on our unconscious stuff before letting the ego take over. Not allowing transference of our loved ones' wounds to reopen our own. And as a coach, it’s an exceptionally common thing to draw upon people’s energy - and inevitably, this includes their stresses, trauma, old wounds and present pain, as well. While that hour of the session may be dedicated more so to deadlift form and correcting their pelvic tilt, it’s not a rarity for trainers to waddle back home, wolf down dinner, and lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, concerned about Sarah’s relationship with her parents or Adam’s complicated view towards women. I see it all the time with coaches, unable to separate their clients’ suffering from their own, desperately wanting to make them happier. And I saw this so much with this person in my life, who only ever wants to make people smile or feel abundant joy. And - maybe it’s the innate codependent in me, as my therapist would tut and interject - but I absolutely see why those in pain seek to “fix” those who suffer, too. We know the abject despair a lonely mind can sense, if left untethered and to its own devices. We know how much an hour of kind words, or presence, or simply holding space, can have on a person’s wellbeing - and potentially drive them to actually getting out of bed the next day. And because we know this, we want to help. To heal. To find a way of alleviating their suffering in any given capacity - even if it’s as simple as complimenting their new gym leggings, or sending them a friendly Whatsapp after training to help keep their chin up.

Now, to draw nourishment and wellbeing from helping others is not an inherently bad thing, of course. But when coupled with a mental illness, it can prove devastating and inexorably dangerous. The condition itself is despicable—the despondency, the slow, susurration throb of pain that feels like it’ll never end; the numbness, draining you of any vigour to embark upon the thralls of life. This all sucks, obviously. But the terror of not knowing how you’ll get through the day is overshadowed entirely by the yoking guilt, that deleterious whisper - that your illness affects the people around you. I have always hated my random fade out I undergo with friends or clients when encountering a numb stage. Always hated the way my episodes make my loved ones’ lives so much harder than they need to be. People I love and care about - people who depend on me to be strong, brave, and supportive of their own pitfalls in life. As a coach it kills me on the inside, knowing one day I can be joyfully present with a client on the gym floor or via texts - but in the span of less than a day, I can be gritting my teeth, weaving a symphony of “I’m great, how about you?”s in an effort to mask the pain corroding me from the inside. The shame of it - acting as a mental health advocate, a health coach, and allegedly supportive confidant whilst drowning in my own struggle - simply adds to the heaviness of the illness. It is the petrol to the highly flammable notion: that life for everyone would be better if I wasn’t here. Before anyone assumes I rally the flag of martyrdom: to clarify, the responsibility here is entirely on myself. Nobody has chosen this path, or done this to me - quite evidently, I choose to put myself last. And I choose to forgo caring for myself, in the hopes I will somehow be saved by external circumstance. I choose to believe the voice that tells me I am weak, rather than the one that assures me I am enough. It’s something that I still have to work on. But it’s fucking exhausting. This is depression at the height of its toxicity: enforcing those patterns and wounds into a selfperpetuating cycle, so that you are so frightened of being a burden to your clients, loved ones and society overall, you inevitably start to carve out a role.

As a coach, the only thing more emotionally draining than being depressed is pretending you’re happy. Which, ironically, enforces the notion that you are a burden, and the suicide ideation that follows suit: depression becomes a never-ending feedback loop of shame, guilt, and self-hatred, which makes it all the more difficult to overcome. Some of the most wonderful, kind, and intelligent coaches I know suffer from this mental maelstrom, consistently putting others’ needs before their own. This seems pretty altruistic - until it’s not. What actually winds up happening is you start fostering resentment, your work ethic slips, and you dread your sessions or check-ins as opposed to embracing them. This applies across the board with interpersonal relationships as it does within the walls of the gym.

PART II - ON TENDING TO YOUR OWN WOUNDS, FIRST AND FOREMOST The objective of this article was never to tell you how to avoid depression or suicide ideation. Mostly, as approaching it solely from a professional (but also personal) stance, I’m not qualified to do either. Given I spend most of my time in my personal life trying to figure shit out and how not to selfcombust on the regular, it’d be feverishly hypocritical endeavouring to do so. Sharing stories is the aim here - to raise awareness within the coaching community, and to urge you not to replicate my own mistakes - both professionally and personally. And, as Jung denotes, the Wounded Healer must continuously raise consciousness of their own wounds and past traumas - lest they take on the current pain of the client into their own world. In other world, coaches and healers with this can bring. And with that, unsolicited advice thou shalt receive.

First and foremost: if you are a coach suffering from a mental illness, realise that you are not alone, and, if examining it from a slightly macabre outlook, just demonstrates your capability for empathy and emotion - such traits that your clients will thoroughly appreciate you for. And with that, some reminders: medication, therapy, and even options such as meditation, journalling, regular movement and forays into spirituality act as excellent gateways into resolving the condition. (And honestly, I think people should view therapy as going to your local dentist. Engaging in regular check ups, even if your smile is pearly white, as a preemptive measure. There’s no such thing as too much emotional hygiene.) Secondly, beyond the measures of professional help, try and have some modicum of control within the chaos. Eat right. Move well. Breathe deeply and silently in between back-to-back clients. Make sure you have time to coach your own emotional prowess before you embark upon setting the world to rights in the clientele realm. Control can often be a key component in reducing depression’s sting. Part of the desperation caused by mental illness is the lack of emotional jurisdiction you feel when in its throes - an element made all the more unhelpful given your coaching role in an unpredictable industry, helping the most unpredictable creatures of all: humans. So, garner some form of control. Do anything - something. Take control of your surroundings, your physical appearance, and your mind. Tidy your room. Get a haircut. Meditate. Whatever activity seems engaging to you, muster up all the remaining sparks of energy that lie within you, and set up camp to protect you against the pain within. Your emotional safe space, if you will. Thirdly, and this is the most cripplingly obvious, yet most difficult thing to do on this list: find help. From a professional. A partner. A colleague, friend, or helpline. As coaches, whether consciously aware of it or not, we carry the heavy brunt of “shit togetherness” upon our hypertrophy-honed shoulders. Service and care is part of our role; in fact, we thrive in seeing clients succeed and improve their lives. But this carves out another role - the Armoured Knight (see, I can totes do my own Jungian archetypes) eschewing any form of vulnerability in the hopes the gnawing pit will fade in time. In other words, it can be very easy to view asking for help as a sign of our failure as a coach. A failure to those who depend on us to commandeer the role of motivational speaker, or happy-go-lucky fitspiration. And yet at the heart of it, vulnerability is what truly connects us to others. Our authentic human experience is what helps not only ourselves, but other people’s quests for happiness, too. If we’re brave enough to speak up about our own stories, then maybe others will, too. And it is here that I will share mine: depression has been a tremendous obstacle in my life. And at present, it persists in being so. I’m certainly not the person you come to if you want to know how to resolve it, or get rid of it. I’m just somebody who might get it, and why your brain decides to fuck you over so bad. Especially if you are coach, when the illness can seem all the more shameful. 26

When it comes to coping mechanisms and managing symptoms, there’s one end result we can all be focusing on. To work through the dark period. That means surviving, and not giving into the voice that tries to persuade you otherwise. And paradoxically, whilst my depression may feed some of the guilt surrounding my career, it also reminds me why I should stay alive: to make a difference, to help others, and leave the world in a slightly better state than it was when I first found it. Albert Camus famously said, “In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer. And that makes me happy.” No matter how dark times get, no matter how inescapable it may all seem - there is a treasure within us that keeps that flame alight, even in the coldest of nights. For me, that treasure is friends. Love. Unconditional kindness, and the hope I can try make a difference to those in more vulnerable positions than myself. These things are, after all, what attracted me to coaching in the first place. And I’m pretty sure it’s the same for you, if you’re in a similar position. So here’s to love. To vulnerability. To looking after ourselves as much as we do our clients. Here’s to the Wounded Healer: simultaneously the most chaotic, and transcendent, role we can find ourselves in.

The Hidden Health. Mental health affects everyone. It’s not a thing that some people have and others don’t. It just effects people on different scales at different times and I think we need to make more of an effort to protect it. Each day we see more and more of other people’s lives though the media and each day it takes our focus away from our own. Whilst I love social media for the connections you make, it also scares me with the amount of time people spend on it and how much of our lives are based around it.

Social media is the highlight reel of everyone’s lives. It shows us all the good times everybody’s having and all the achievements everyone is making. Not very often do we see the bad days, the failures or the things that don’t go so well. Which again, I get it, we don’t want people to see our worst because it’s not always a pretty sight.

But saying that, neither is the illusion that everyone’s living a perfect life. Here’s a reality… You’re sat on the train scrolling through your socials on the way to work. You see what everyone did over the weekend, going for drinks, out for food, all the best bits. And from the best bits you only see the best photos of it, there might have been 20 photos taken and you only see that one “perfect” one. We don’t see the lazy morning in bed, the skipped workout, the chocolate bar for breakfast, the argument with your partner, the lack of energy to cook some food for lunch, the second chocolate bar, the TV show you’ve binge watched and the book you never read. All we see is a nice-looking meal at the end of the day with a smiling partner who still angry about the argument from earlier on. Looking at everyone’s highlights one after another can make us feel like our life isn’t as good, that it’s harder and tougher than everyone else’s. But no one’s life is ever actually as good as their social profile, real life can’t be covered up by a smile and a fancy filter and it’s important to remember that everyone has a life outside of their profile which you will not see.

By Georgina Creed IG: @georgina_creed 28

I’m not saying we must post all the bad things, boring bits and the hard times we have. Social media is there to entertain and seek interests, you’d get no enjoyment or benefit from seeing and reading all the bad things that are happening to people in day to day life would you…or would you?

Would sharing more of the ‘failures’ and more the ‘hard times’ help people understand that life isn’t easier for some than others. Would it help people realise that it’s ok to not be ok and that not everyone is ok all the time? Would it help people realise that everyone is the same and they’re not the only one who has daily problems and that life isn’t always as cheerful as a boomerang of you clinking drinks. A question I’ve just thought of whilst typing this is not about what we post, but why? Why do we post on social media? Why do we feel we need to take a boomerang of the drinks after work? Why do we share images of what food we’re eating? Why do we feel the need to share a gym selfie each time we go? Why do we post images of the new things we’ve bought? Why are we sharing all these things in our lives with other people? Does it give us fulfilment? Do we get happiness from sharing it? Do we feel more appreciated and accepted with the likes and comments we receive? I’m unsure, decide why you share what you share and like what you like and make sure you’re doing it for you, and not for others. Lastly, why do we like the images we like and follow the people we follow? What do they bring to our lives? Does the time spent scrolling benefit us? What are we looking for? Do the people we follow bring us down, make us feel unworthy, or less than them? Next time you go through your feed question if you really want to see the things people are posting and if they benefit you in any way. Protect your mental health and wellbeing by spending more time on you and less on others. Like they say each time you go on a plane:

“Fit your own mask before fitting others”.

Why We’re All A Little Mental. If you know me or follow my social media in any way, shape or form, you will know that I am a peculiar mix of very private yet very open with my battles with mental health. People who have these battles tend to correlate with people who train – Aaron pointed out the importance of physical exercise to mental health in the opening article. I can’t speak for everyone, but I know for me, that training and exercise was a big part of me fighting back against my mental health issues, or my mental illness. What I mean by us all being a little mental is that all of us who train (meaning a good group of our Strength Prose readers) will find that training has helped them through a rough time in their life, or even still is helping them. Training. Beyond the physiological benefits of training – the release of serotonin, dopamine and the improved physical attributes, training can offer us some much need focus. Maybe some much needed routine – interestingly my previous work in support work showed that some people could finish primary and secondary school only to discover after losing these 15 years of routine that they are autistic. The focus, routine and determination that training offers is only amplified by training for a particular competition or event and, frankly, to put yourself through a heavy, intense powerlifting routine to eek out the last kilos of strength before a competition you have to be a little “mental.” There have been many times where clients of mine, who are largely competitive powerlifters, will find that when they are in a period without an imminent competition they find it hard to stick to their training, their diet or even a little bit harder to deal with their emotions. Its times like this where goals, long term or short term can be very helpful. Quite recently I was talking with a client about changing up their training – they had been on a competition based, intense routine for a while. While a consistent, recurring routine means that you measure improvements and minimise variables when coaching a client, you also need to watch out for any boredom that seeps in – or with more intense training you also need to watch out for mental fatigue. By Danny Lee IG : @danny_lee_fitness/ @strength_prose

Building yourself up for a hard workout 3+ times a week can be draining, exhausting and just generally make you hate training. If you then fall out of love with training you may find that you then lose your routine and your focus – and this will definitely then seep into your everyday life. It is important to keep your training enjoyable – this doesn’t mean make it like one of those bizarre disco-esque spin classes – but to make you feel like you’ve achieved something each session without dialling it all the way down to achieve really ambiguous PBs (like a “slighty narrower stanced deadlift PB for 3 reps, or something). My Own Way of Being a Little Mental. As I said above, I’m quite open with my mental health history but I’m not sure if many people would be aware of exactly what I’ve been through or for how long etc. I’ve always had low self-confidence and this led to me finding it difficult to get out and make new friends, or even just socialise with current ones. As a result I spent about three years of my teenage years single and without going out – and on the odd times I did turn up to events I’d always have a conversation of – Them: Oh, I didn’t know you were coming. Me: Well, you did invite me. Which is exactly my dry sense of humour, true but also indicative of people just not expecting me to be there – luckily, I didn’t take it as them being disappointed that I had showed up, though. This isolation would lead to me not being able to deal with most social situations, I still get people’d out very easily now and I’m much better at it. The isolation also made me believe that most people were just better off without me there, anyway, so I may as well just sit in and read or play console games. I distinctly remember one day deciding that even though I didn’t like myself I wanted to see how strong I could get. This did lead to my love of lifting weights and staying in shape now, but it wasn’t the healthiest way to get started. I wouldn’t care if I hurt too much from a hard workout and I would see that soreness as almost a form of self-harm rather than self-improvement. It eventually became that training became more of a habit and I stopped using it in such a negative way. I realised that I could get even stronger again if I respected the idea of training properly. After it became a habit, I ended up working in the industry shortly after I finished university and it was around this time that it all just got worse for me. It didn’t help that I would work myself far too much – the year after university I worked in a gym, in support work, went back to college and also decided to train for competitions.

The decision to train for competitions came after a really rough patch in my life where I was having multiple panic attacks a day, I was working myself too much and a budding relationship had broken down. All of this led to me going to the doctors for help with my mental health, I was instantly offered medication, which I rejected (I have nothing against medication, I just wanted to try counselling first – I’d never even spoken about my thought processes by this point) and then within 6-10 weeks I was with a counsellor. In those 6-10 weeks I had done some work on my brain – I read a few books and started to realise that my feelings were feelings and not me, and I decided on my first competition which was to take place 9 months later. Due to the work I had done here I only ended up having 2 of my allotted 6 therapy sessions due to how well I had brought my anxiety down – it went from a 21/25 down to a 6/25. As a result I decided to not continue – I regret this now, as I left therapy with absolutely no tools to use if my anxiety or depression came back. I struggled on and off for a long time, particularly with the extra workload mentioned above. This stayed bad for the better (or worse) part of 2 years. I vividly remember one Christmas Eve where I was meant to be working, only for all of my clients to (understandably, it was Christmas Eve) cancelled last minute. I then didn’t know what to do with myself and took myself on a long walk. I went past my primary school, my old house and then to a park I went to a lot as a child. I spent a long time in that park – then I left and saw a car speeding down the road, I strongly considered throwing myself in front of it, only to decide that I hadn’t tried everything. Until I had tried a few more things, I shouldn’t go for something so final. I’d love to say that I ran home and instantly sorted myself out in a It’s a Wonderful Life manner, but I didn’t. I spent the rest of that day walking around and pondering what to do with myself now I had a future I had to lead. It took me months to finally go to therapy again. I did it and I stayed long after my depression and anxiety scores had gone down to help me know I had the tools to deal with it, and also to know that them coming down wasn’t simply a fluke. The time I spent in therapy was a little difficult, as it was during Christmas which was difficult for the above reasons and a school friend of mine died quite suddenly. Even without It’s really hard to get It’s a

working on my mentality these things would have been hard

Wonderful Life stock phots.

to deal with.

Where I am now. I still occasionally get anxious and down but nowhere near as bad. I’ve not had an anxiety attack in years now. But, because I’ve given myself the self-respect, and I’ve taken the responsibility to do the work, I have found that everything else seems to go better. I’ve been successful in my personal life – I’ve been in a loving relationship for 18 months and moved out – and I’ve been successful in work – I currently have 24 clients of all levels, I’m Operations Manager of Taylor’s Strength Training and I’ve created Strength Prose and drawn together all of these lovely writers and photographers for you all. There is also a part of me thinking that my story here isn’t as bad as some of the others in this issue. But that isn’t how it works – regardless of what is going on in your life, or how lucky you are, what your brain tells you is incredibly real to you. So don’t ever think that people will judge you for going through this, just because you can imagine someone else going through worse. It does get better – it rarely goes in a linear way – just like training or diet but overall it does. Talk to people as well as listening, both of these will help you and maybe the other person and it will also mean that your mental illness will have less control over you. Look after yourself, you deserve it.