Why is asking for help so damn hard?

I don’t know what it is about the word ‘help’ but it has to be one of the hardest words to get out of your mouth. I mean who wants to admit that they are struggling? Who wants to show they might have a weakness?

Suffering from a mental health issue like depression or anxiety is not a weakness, it is a sign you have been battling on your own for far too long. Asking for help is actually one of the bravest things you will ever do.

I remember the first time I asked for help. It took me 10 years of suffering from anxiety and depression to do this and I was shitting myself. I had done a presentation that day at work and I thought I had really fucked it up. Apparently I hadn’t screwed it up at all, it was actually all in my head but my anxiety was telling me that I had. For some reason that day I told my girlfriend at the time I needed to go to the doctor and get help. I was so done with anxiety taking over my life. It was crazy, on a good day nothing worried me at work, getting up and presenting was sweet as, but on a bad day I couldn’t even reply to an email or some days couldn’t even get out of bed for work.

In the waiting room in the doctors that day I felt like such a failure. Here’s a guy with an amazing family and friends, good job who should be loving life about to admit that he is struggling when nothing is actually wrong. WTF? But here’s the thing… mental health issues like depression don’t discriminate, you can have what looks like the most amazing life on the outside but on the inside every day is a battle with the negative thoughts inside your head.

That day was actually the first time I started to get better. As soon as I told the doctor... look I’m really really struggling at the moment and I don’t know why? She said "if you go outside and walk down the street right now it looks like everyone is loving life, but the thing is everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about. So many people are hurting on the inside but don’t ask for help because they are embarrassed. You asking for help today is the the one thing that is going to help you get better". That actually changed my life…for once I didn’t feel like a failure for not being happy, for once I didn’t blame myself, for once it felt ok not to be ok.

I guess the reason why I’m writing this is to let you know that no matter how much you are struggling, you’re not alone and there is always someone that has your back. All you need to do is ask. So make sure you do because the World needs more good humans like you.

:: Free the Funk

Being in a funk is the weirdest feeling ever. One day you’re feeling sweet and the next day you can't get the negative feelings out of your head. Sometimes you see it coming and other times it just comes from nowhere. A funk may be kicked off by a chemical imbalance, a break up, shit times at work, a massive night out, money troubles or no damn reason at all. The one thing I know is that it fucken hurts.
 
When a funk hits the natural thing to do is to fight it. Why is this happening to me? I don't deserve this shit. We hide it because we don't want anyone to know we're struggling. We sometimes see it as a weakness, but it's not. I found out that fighting the feelings just drags out the shit times and makes everything suck way more.
 
Like many people, I have had to deal with some shitty funks in my life, but it's only since being diagnosed with bipolar 3 years ago that I have kind of worked out how to deal with them. I can go for weeks where I feel that-good and then for some reason out of nowhere bam, I start getting anxiety and depression again and want to lay low for a while. If I didn't tell my family and good buddies when I was struggling it would be so damn hard, because I would just build up the negative feelings in my head, rather than letting them go. It would do my bloody head in. No one deserves to go through a funk alone.
 
I think the key thing is being kind to yourself and focusing on doing the things that make you feel good. For me that's the moment I get in the ocean or the moment I get on a chairlift with my snowboard on. That moment nothing else matters and shit that feels good. Also make sure you talk to someone you trust about the things that are making you feel shit and let it all out. At the end of the day we're only human, we all have our down days, let's talk about them so we can help a brother/sister out.  Don't worry about what people think...the good people will have your back no matter what. Just remember you're a good human with a good heart and in time this funk shall pass. You got this!

 

 

 

 

 
:: BIG BEAR HUG

::Bipolar...the balance of opposites

If somebody told me 5 years ago I have bipolar, I probably would have said they didn't know shit and walked away. I didn't understand what bipolar was and I didn't want to.  Looking back this is so crazy knowing my best mate Brucey aka Dad has lived with bipolar for 10 years. It took me having a manic episode, being handcuffed and  taken to hospital, before I was finally diagnosed with bipolar. It was a pretty hectic journey that lead me here. I was first diagnosed with perfectionism after struggles with anxiety and depression. I was then diagnosed with depression after a severe anxiety attack in Mexico and put on antidepressants. These antidepressants made me feel that good, I didn't need to sleep much...so I thought it would be a sweet idea to party a lot and spend all my money on bar tabs for the surf team, quit my tequila marketing job and start a charity called where the party at!?

I thought I was finally living the dream until I decided to steal a surf club paddle board and paddle around the semi final of Australian Surf Open. 5 minutes later I was handcuffed and taken to the mental health ward of Manly Hospital. 10 days later I was to find out the reason I had gone from being a cruiser with a smile on the outside, but anxiety and depression battles on the inside, to a maddawg who was going so fast I was losing sense of reality...was because I have bipolar and I had been put on the wrong medication. The antidepressants had lifted me so high up, I hit the manic state of bipolar. I thought I was living the dream, when actually I was creating a fuckin nightmare...I just couldn't see it coming.

But it's not all bad. If that didn't happen I would probably still be battling on with anxiety and depression today and pretending to be sweet. For some reason hitting rock bottom made me accept having bipolar. I was actually like thank fuck, at least I know what I have now. Some people ask me what bipolar is and what it's like to live with. The way I see it is we're all different and we all have our ups and downs, but when you have bipolar the ups and downs can be more extreme.

For me the extreme ups can be manic episodes and I have experienced two of these where I have ended up in hospital. These are so fun until you hit hospital then they really really suck. The downs for me are depression and anxiety. The medication I take is lithium and it basically balances you in the middle to protect you from the highs and lows. The shit thing is that it dulls your mood, so it takes away some of your natural highs. If I didn't have to I would ditch the meds for sure, but for now it's part of my recipe to manage bipolar, along with saltwater, surfing and good people and I'm constantly trying to find the right recipe to make me feel good and keep me balanced.

Different people have different experiences with bipolar. Some have lows that last for weeks, some years. Some have never been to hospital for a manic episode and some are in an out of hospital way too much. At the end of the day we're all good people trying to navigate life with the funks that come our way. Let's have each other's backs no matter what you have, because you can't beat kindness and a whole lot of love.

Massive thank you to the ledgies who have had my back. I frickin love ya.

Here's to a bagus year in 2015!

BIG BEAR HUG xx

Everyone needs a good wingman...

When I was going through a funk, what I was looking for most was a good wingman. Someone who I could trust and have my back ALWAYS. Unfortunately, my experience with doctors, psychologists and psychiatrist’s during my ups and downs has been mostly shit house. It’s not the easiest thing to write about, but I want to shed some light on it, because I nearly gave up hope and I really hope others don’t have to deal with the same shit.

 To start with, when I finally had the balls to go see a doctor and say, "I’m struggling, I need help", they made me fill out this stupid form rating my happiness from 1-10. I was like, "look at me, I just said I was struggling. It’s taken me 10 years to finally admit I need help and you make me do a happiness survey. FML". My relationship with this doctor was over there and then. The best she could do was book an appointment with a psychologist in 6 weeks. 6 weeks…are you serious?? This is the point where I walk out and pay for shit service. In a restaurant you get your money back if food is bad! Why doesn’t that happen with doctors?

The visit to the psychologist 6 weeks later, started off ok. I told my life story and we practiced some cognitive behavioral therapy. This actually made me feel pretty good. The only thing is that I was then misdiagnosed with perfectionism. This meant no medication, which I was stoked about at the time. Unfortunately this didn’t help when I had a severe anxiety/depression episode in Mexico, where CBT just didn’t cut it. I didn’t know what the hell was going on. I nearly gave up hope. I was so lucky I made it back to Sydney.

Mum and Dad were waiting for me in Sydney when I got back. We rang around trying to get an appointment with any psychiatrist we could find, but we had no luck. Then one day we got lucky…well we thought we did. Mum and Dad were in the room when I told the psychiatrist my history with mental health issues in our family and that Dad had bipolar. That day he put me on some antidepressants that I would later find out, were not meant to be given to anyone who has a family history of bipolar. Basically, they can take you from the lowest low to the highest high (manic). I found this out 3 months later when I ended up in Manly Manly hospital mental health ward after a week partying at the Australian Open of Surfing.

In hospital, I got put on a concoction of medication because I was still in my own World, dancing around like MJ. I remember one night I woke up and I couldn’t feel my legs and I could hardly see. I stumbled to the nurse’s station and knocked on the window and was like, "What the hell have you given me? I can’t fuckin' see". She shut the window, so I threw the medication at her. I’m not usually an angry dude, but hell, you spend a week in a mental health hospital and it’s hard not to be. After that I worked out how to beat the system. If I just were super quiet, didn’t get excited and do heaps of yoga, I might get out. If I was too happy and danced around they would probably think I’m still manic. It worked and I was diagnosed with bipolar and set free.

My next bad experience was when I returned back to Sydney after 5 months recovering in NZ. I went to see this doctor who was meant to be a mental health specialist. It turns out he was a dickhead specialist. He told me “do you know that only so many % of people with bipolar can handle a normal job” and “what are you doing in Sydney, when you could be in NZ? You’re probably not going to get a job” I wish I told him to fuck himself, but I honestly couldn’t speak. I just walked out and started crying. The crying didn’t last long. This turned into more motivation to show that people with bipolar can get shit done!

Luckily, I did finally meet one legend doctor, through a friend who also suffers from funks like me. This Doctor ledge made me feel normal for having bipolar and he got my medication level right. We would often crack up laughing when we caught up. That doesn’t happen much at the doctors and I often find laughing at myself the best medicine. Unfortunately the last time I went to see him he had moved overseas. Shit!

So yep, I’ve had some shit experiences and it has caused me a lot of pain, but above all else, this has allowed me to discover the real me…yep I have bipolar, yep I’m happy and yep I still have down days…I’m only human. This has also allowed me to discover the real wingmen in my life. The ones I can trust and have my back no matter what. My amazing family has ALWAYS had my back. My Dad Brucey also has bipolar, so we would go surfing and share stories. Brucey made me feel good about having bipolar, because he is such a legend. My Mum Alison is the kindest loving human I know. When I wasn’t surfing and I needed to talk about anything, she was there. Whenever I needed to go to see another medical dickhead she would take me. She wanted to punch the doctors in the nuts just as much me. My sister Lee & hubby Matt, my big bro Aaron & wife Kylee and my little bro Scott & wife Chloe are my best mates and are the definition of good wingmen. They were ALWAYS there for me when I needed them and I will never forget it. My friends including the Onewave crew have been such good humans. They make me feel normal about having bipolar, rather than ashamed.  They have helped so much with my recovery, because I could talk to others who had been through a similar funk.

So…no matter what you’re doing in life you always need a good wingman. When you’re going through a funk you need them even more. Make sure you find someone you can trust, that understands you and lock them in. A good wingman could change your life. 

Anxiety is not my friend.

I’m not normally a hater…but there is one thing I hate like nothing on earth and that is anxiety. Anxiety brings nothing but bad vibes. How can something change someone from being a happy, confident, chilled person to… someone who can’t even face opening emails at work, someone who can’t leave the bathroom at work after they thought they screwed up a presentation, someone who can’t face going to work because they thought they really screwed up a presentation, someone who can’t go out and face their friends, someone who can’t leave a hotel room in Mexico because they have nearly given up hope. That happened to me and anxiety turned me into completely different human...a human I don’t want to see again.

The thing with anxiety is that you don’t know when it’s going to show up. It just turns up when you least expect it and makes you doubt every little thing about yourself.  I wish I could see it coming, so I could just kick it in the balls. The thing I have discovered living with bipolar, is that it's not just about trying to balance the ups and downs; it is the anxiety in between that can really knock you down. I was in Bali last week and I arrived from NZ ready for this epic holiday. What I forgot about was how much changing time zones can screw me over sometimes with bipolar. It was only 4 hours time difference, but I was waking up at 3am every morning for the first few days. When I can’t sleep I get anxiety. For the first few days I was super anxious. As soon as I got in the ocean surfing the anxiety eased, but it took a few days to really relax. So anxiety will try and wreck your holidays as well. I used to try and fight the feelings, but this made it worse. Now If I feel it coming now I know I need to get in the ocean asap, I need to talk about it and I need sleep. If I try and hide it, anxiety really sucks the life out of me.

I am seeing less and less of anxiety, but it still turns up uninvited from time to time. Anxiety is the giver of bad vibes and ain’t nobody got time for that. All I know is that anxiety is not my friend, it never will be and it sure as hell won’t be invited to my wedding!! Whenever that is haha.

BIG BEAR HUG

Good feeling...

Have you ever had that feeling in life where you think at last everything is going right…when only hours later you’re completely lost? We had just set up Onewave back in Feb last year and I was so frickin excited, because it finally felt like I had bipolar for a reason…to raise awareness for mental health and encourage others use the ocean and surfing as a way of coping.

I set up the Onewave Instagram account and it was helloo to OW Insta surfing and good-bye to sleep. I did a couple of all nighters just trying to get the Insta going. I didn’t realise at the time how much lack of sleep impacts someone with bipolar. All of sudden I couldn’t sit still and felt so so edgy. Lucky my buddy Sam was around and we just walked the streets of Bondi for a while and then just sat and watched the waves. Then the next day I couldn’t get this song out of my head…”oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, sometimes I get a good feeling yeah”. When I was getting ready for a surf I could hear it, when I was sitting out in the ocean I could hear it. It felt like there was a DJ playing up on the beach, but I was the only one that could hear it. The surf was the only place I could really relax. I didn’t really want to be around people, which was crazy for me. If I wasn’t in the ocean you could find me sitting on the South Bondi grass mind surfing with my headphones on.

One day later my parents had arrived from NZ to hangout. We were having breakfast at a café In Bondi when I decided I wanted to go and check the surf. I had my headphones on and must have been dancing too hard down the beach, because half an hour later I was getting handcuffed and taken to hospital. I have never been so angry in my life…I mean I had dealt with been taken to hospital once for a manic episode and I deserved it that time, but a second time, when I was just dancing around, not hurting anyone that fuckin hurt big time.  Why did it take 6 Police to handcuff a dude who just wants to dance around to ‘good feeling’? Seriously!

I really gave it to the ambulance staff, so sorry about that, but that’s what happens when you go from having a good feeling to having the worst feeling…for me that was arriving at the mental health ward of the Prince Of Whales Hospital in Darlinghurst.  I was out of control when I got in there. I just couldn’t believe I was back in hospital again. The only way they could settle me down was an injection in my ass, but I tried to fight it, until it felt like they were going to break my arm, then I gave up. Then I woke up I was devastated…the highest high to the lowest low. It was such a battle to get through my first hospital stint and I was a back again a year later when I thought I was doing everything right. That’s the thing with bipolar, sometimes when you’re feeling so so good things can actually go so so wrong real quick. That is such a hard thing to deal with.

I knew I had to find something positive to focus on real quick in hospital: For me that was:

• ·      Visits from my Family everyday
• ·      Music and my big headphones – When everyone else was sleeping I would just cut big shapes around the lounge. Because I couldn’t surf this was the best therapy for me. It made me laugh and kept me sane. I wish I had videos it would probs be the worst dancing ever, but man it felt good
• ·      Yoga with my music – I’m no yogi but this was my escape from people yelling in my air and asking me if I had any ciggies
• ·      Planning Onewave ideas for when I got out – this kept me made me think this hospital visit happened for a reason and gave me hope
• ·      Meeting new amigos in there and hearing their story

After 5 days I managed to get out of hospital and get back in the ocean with my Dad and my brother. The ‘good feeling’ song had gone in my head and the Ocean was the feeling I really needed…onewave really is all it takes. Over 1 year later and I have not been back to hospital. I’m a bipolar bear through and through and I have a weird and fun outlook on life, but for me that’s living and that’s what us bipolar bears do best. Thanks to all my amigos for the love and support during the tough times…I will never forget it!

BIG BEAR HUG XX

What’s normal anyway…

I spent so many years worrying about what people think. Trying to act happy all of the time, because I thought it wasn’t normal to go through a mental funk and be down on life. This is crazy because what’s normal anyway? I think the sooner you realize that being normal is whatever you want it to be…the sooner you get to accept and celebrate your inner weirdness.

It’s not as easy as it sounds though. When you go through a mental funk you start to question everything about your life and all you want to do is fit in and be normal. The stigma surrounding mental health doesn’t help. Some people who have not been through it or seen loved ones suffer, throw around the terms anxiety, depression and bipolar like they are just an excuse for crazy behavior. I have heard people throw around the word bipolar, to explain someone who is up one day and down the next “oh they must have bipolar”– just because they think they are not acting what they think is normal. People need to get off their ass and realize that we were not born on this earth to be normal and if people are acting a little different either embrace it, or leave them alone to do their thing.

I used to want to be normal and be friends with everyone. That was before I nearly lost my life to bipolar disorder.  I went from doing marketing for a tequila brand and having all these party friends to finding out pretty quickly who my real friends really were. When you disappear to Manly hospital for 2 weeks and then NZ for 3 months, you really find out who your true friends are…the ones that will come and visit you in the mental health hospital. The ones that will just hang out and listen to you, no matter what. The ones that will get you back out in the ocean surfing, when you really want to stay in bed. The ones that will help you find a way to share your story to give you hope that you can turn this funk into something positive. The ones that make you feel good no matter what. I owe my life to my amazing family and friends that got me through the toughest times. They made me feel that it is normal to be weird and that being weird is actually rad…so I just started embrace being my weird self and shit it felt that good.

From that day I started opening up about having bipolar and decided I wanted to share my story, so anyone going through a mental funk in this weird rad world would hopefully know that they are not alone. It’s amazing once you meet another mental funk amigo, you start talking and can finally let years of feelings you’ve had trapped inside flow free.  Once you start talking everything gets a little easier and it feels like you have found a long lost brother/sister, who just gets you and you’re no longer alone.

Unfortunately not everyone is making it easy for people suffering from mental funks. One thing that absolutely rips me in life, is how the media treats legends that have worked their ass off and as a result are in the public eye. They suffer from mental funks like anyone else you dickheads, so keep your cameras and bullshit words to your self. It sure can’t feel good to make someone feel so bad, so keep it to yourself or even better write something nice. We need to preserve the legends, so stop being dick heads. 

The sooner we realize that no body is normal and we celebrate every little weird thing about ourselves, the sooner we can beat mental funks and enjoy this amazing thing called life.

BIG BEAR HUG XX