My detox diet

On the weekend I read something that resonated. Written by Caitlin Moran, a funny and slightly crazy journalist I have come to love, it was one of her more serious columns. She wrote about her first panic attack and the simple tool she now employs to deter them. She erected some barriers in her mind and when her thoughts begin to encroach any of them she quickly tells herself - loud and clear - to SHUT UP. And it works.

It reminded me of my own little tool which I use less to deter panic attacks, more to alleviate the exhaustion, boredom and angst that accompanies general anxiety. I've mentioned before that I sway towards the anxious side of life's pendulum. In itself that's a marked improvement because there was a time I didn't even realise it was a pendulum, let alone one I could navigate myself.

I didn't realise that the way we think is a choice. I thought that like height, shoe size and femur length, it was one of the great, slightly tragic, unchangeable facts of life. Turns out it's not. It's relatively easy to change.

I learned this less from a voluntary wander down discovery lane, more from an abrupt push into a small den of despair, but the outcome was the same.

As with most crises it was a chapter I'd prefer to have skipped but in hindsight it had pluses. Having trawled through some unpleasant terrain I was able to scramble out the other side with a better appreciation for ordinary terrain. Even better, some awareness, that I could mould my own ordinary terrain.

The analogy that helped most was putting myself on a strict, detoxifying diet. For my mind. I've always been conscious of eating well. I'm not macrobiotic or vegan or on the raw food bandwagon, but on the whole I've always tried to put more good things in my mouth than bad. I didn't adopt the same approach with my mind.

Instead, I realised I was in the habit of force-feeding myself a rather destructive diet of undesirable, unhelpful and frankly unnecessary, titbits.

I didn't need telling that if I was to eat chips, chocolate, cake, pizza and ice-cream for a few days straight, my body would very quickly feel sluggish, yukky and crap. I hadn't twigged that feeding my mind a constant stream of similarly unhealthy morsels - dwelling on all the things I don't do well, can't do, should do, haven't done – would very quickly leave me feeling sluggish, yukky and crap.

The tool I used to begin making-over my mental diet was simple. And incredibly effective. At night when I lay my head on the pillow I'd think of three things I did that day that made me laugh or feel happy, proud or positive. I'd try not to think about the phonecalls I didn't make, or the birthday I forgot, or the words I snapped to someone who didn't deserve them, or the dinner I didn't cook, or the career I didn't have, or the email I didn't send.

Instead I'd dwell on three things – no matter how inconsequential – that made me feel good, satisfied, productive or positive.

It was a surprisingly easy habit to develop once I put my mind to it. And the results - feeling more content, settled and less frazzled – were real. I no longer use it every day but when I recognise that I'm feeling a bit angst-y I whip it out. Which is why I really like Caitlin's SHUT UP approach. She stops panic in her tracks with two little words. Anxiety is not simple but there are simple things everyone can use to stop or limit its reach.

As an aside, starving my mind from bad and undesirable thoughts was far easier than any regime I've attempted that involved limiting my dietary intake, because unlike cake negative thoughts don't even taste good.