A Walk Through the Noise

It’s been a stressful couple of weeks. I can’t quite explain why, but the bipolar and ADHD riddled brain has been working in overdrive.

“Stressed for the sake of being stressed”, some might say, and I’d be inclined to agree to an extent. These reactions feel like the brain desperately reaching for something normal or sensible amidst chaos.

It’s worth bearing in mind that chaos exists in all aspects of life. A changed or cancelled plan, a last minute class change at uni, not receiving a reply in a timely manner, whatever it might be, my brain automatically reaches for the fuck it button in a bid to destruct and explode.

Instead of, you know, just dealing with the thing as and when it occurs.

I am so much better at that now than I ever have been before, but so often these situations could be improved with the most basic levels of communication. That’s what winds me up the most.

We are so, so good at making noise. At making ourselves as big, boisterous and loud as humanly possible when it’s not even required, yet basic, fundamental communication is non-existent on so many levels.

This might sound dramatic, but this is exactly how mental illness works. It’s the seemingly small things, the things people assume anyone should be able to cope with, that push people over the edge.

People have found themselves in mental health units for far less. These “little” things create the most noise, the most stress, the overwhelming sensation that life is unstable and debilitating. The spiral isn’t long, and the worst part is that it is completely rational.

Today’s walk was a bid to reclaim my thoughts and feelings. A forced reset amidst the mundane everyday of East London, knowing full well I wouldn’t be able to resist taking pictures. That alone provides an instant and gratifying release, even if the photos aren’t likely to win awards or be displayed.

And true to previous experience, within moments, everything melted away.

There are so many shifts in landscape when walking from UEL Docklands Campus at Royal Albert Dock up to and around Royal Victoria Dock.

Newham is a borough constantly changing, dragging itself, almost limping, towards 21st century life. Or it would be, if anything other than expensive flats were being built. I often wonder how annoyed people must be to have paid for a view, only to have it obscured by another identical building mere metres away.

As I ventured home an hour later, I felt far more able to cope with the ever mounting tasks that come with university life. More importantly, I felt better in myself, grounded enough to properly engage with therapy just minutes later.

In short, pack up after work and get out for that walk.