We are all struggling. But for people with eating disorders the effect is compounded by both practical considerations and the impact on mental health. It’s anxiety provoking, hugely challenging, and really tough.

For a start, being underweight means that my immune system is supressed, and I am more at risk than healthy individuals. I am angry at myself for being in this situation, and struggling to give myself the compassion that says that this is an illness, and one I am working hard to fight. I’m washing my hands regularly, keeping away from people as much as humanly possible, and doing my best to limit contact with any object outside my house. But the concern is still there.

Like many people with or in recovery from an eating disorder, I have quite a limited diet. There are the foods I feel comfortable with – my ‘safe’ foods – and those I find more challenging – the ‘fear’ foods. I am terrified of going into a supermarket and finding the shelves stripped bear of those safe foods that enable me to get through the day. Whilst I would like to think that I could be more flexible if this situation occurs, really I fear I would use this as an opportunity to cut back even more, unable to face a challenge. We are being told to only shop for essentials. It’s very easy for the anorexic voice to convince me that my food is not an essential, and it would be perfectly justifiable for me to spend months hidden away with only cereal bars to eat.

The supermarket is a daunting place for me at the best of times. With panic buying, lengthy queues, product restrictions and militant frontline workers (who are doing a brilliant job) the anxiety is made worse, and the experience far from easy. One thing that is good is that supermarkets are streamlining their ranges a little, so the anxiety that comes from an overwhelming choice is lessened – as long as that streamlining doesn’t come from removing my ‘safe’ foods.

When in the weight restoration phase of anorexia recovery, individuals need much more to eat than people of a ‘normal’ weight – often thousands of calories. What might look like stock piling is actually only food for a few days. The voice telling me I’m greedy and overeating is exacerbated and amplified, the idea that I shouldn’t be eating so much reinforced in my head.

I have come a long way from the days when only an intense and lengthy gym session or run would allow me to let even a meagre portion of food to pass my lips. But I do still rely on my daily walks, just as much for mental health as to allow my body to move a little. Despite protestations from the public, we are still under a fairly limited lockdown in the UK, and allowed out for daily walks. I worry this freedom will be curtailed as people flout the rules and take advantage of our freedom (is sunbathing and having a picnic in the park really necessary?) and am terrified that I might not be even allowed out for my regular amble around the streets near where I live.

Social distancing, which whilst entirely necessary, isn’t helping. In recent months I have been doing really well at trying to go out for dinner and drinks with friends. Now I am at home, and those challenges ceased. We are having regular video calls and checking in, but it’s just not the same. The great steps I have taken feel like they are being curtailed.

If you’re in treatment and used to seeing a therapist or nurse regularly, all this will have stopped. Most therapists are doing online or phone check ins, so that people have some continuity of contact. But a lot of the benefit that comes from sessions is the in person relationship, some of which is lost online. And monitoring of weight and physical symptoms through blood tests can’t happen, so there is a risk that any deterioration will not be noticed.

Diet culture is all pervasive, even at the best of times. But at the moment there are numerous posts and memes about gaining weight and overeating during lockdown. The idea that this would be the worst thing to befall us doesn’t help with the notion that weight gain is bad and being thin is good, which, whilst not the cause of my anorexia, certainly doesn’t aid in my recovery. Everyone is doing home workouts and bragging about it, and it would be all too easy to fall down a rabbit hole of home exercise videos. That is something I need to steer away from.

Having anorexia at any time really sucks. It’s the biggest killer of any psychiatric illness. It ruins lives. But during a global health pandemic it’s even harder. I know I have to keep fighting, to be healthy and strong during this period, and to come out of it able to keep on going, working on my recovery. Maybe I can use this opportunity to be forced to be more flexible, adapting my meals, challenging myself, and working on what matters to me.

But right now, it all feels a bit much.

Boasting thought leaders such as Bill Bryson, Derren Brown, Richard Dawkins, Marie Forleo, Ruby Wax and Alain de Botton, the festival will see influential figures share their unique life lessons for a happier, healthier and more inspired life. With its writers and columnists at the forefront, The Sunday Times will ensure that ideas and information are not only cutting edge, but rigorously researched and, ultimately, scientifically sound. In an arena saturated with conflicting advice and opinions on wellbeing and healthy living, this weekend will offer festival goers not only a fresh perspective, but real, tangible knowledge to carry forwards into day-to- day life.

The weekend features over 40 talks from more than 80 speakers, along with an abundance of mindful activities including yoga, meditation, sound therapy, crafting and more. Designed with a structure that will allow guests to not only learn from experts but others around them, with taster sessions to explore new skills, and examine their career potential Life Lessons is a chance for attendees to design a better future for themselves.

Visitors will build their own bespoke programme from topics such as nutrition, health, sustainable living, business, society and psychology. The festival will tackle questions both big and small, from whether it’s possible to design a perfect society, to which foods are beneficial for both humans and the planet.

Eleanor Mills, Editorial Director of The Sunday Times, said of the event, “Every day, we are bombarded with new ways to improve ourselves, to be happy, to live well. It’s impossible to work out which ones are the real deal and which are just snake oil. Until now.

At the inaugural Life Lessons weekend, our mission is to find the answers to life, the universe and everything. With the help of a carefully curated line-up of smart thinkers, we’ll apply a healthy dose of scepticism and a large chunk of science to an industry and world built on promises. Is clean eating really good for you? What does a healthy society look like? Is it possible to parent mindfully? And where are we on butter?” 

Visit Life Lessons for more details and to buy tickets.

Liane Moriarty’s latest novel Nine Perfect Strangers is a funny read with acute observation and fast paced plot. There are thinly veiled barbs at the wellness industry, selfie culture, and the pressure of modern society are delivered through witty dialogue and clever characterisation. All of the characters are flawed, in entirely relatable ways, and it’s easy to warm to them as you roll your eyes at them. New lottery winners, a grieving family, middle aged women – a whole human range is there, and the experience holds a mirror up to the misfits and makes them see things about their lives, even if it wasn’t what they expected.

Moriarty is the Australian author of seven best-selling novels. Big Little Lies shot to fame as a television show featuring Nicole Kidman. Nine Perfect Strangers will also be hitting the screens, with Kidman’s production company Blossom Films and Big Little Lies producer, Bruna Papandrea’s Made Up Stories having signed a deal for the TV and film rights.

Nine Perfect Strangers is an excellently executed book with a catchy and thrilling storyline and sensitively crafted characters. Definitely worth a read.

Sharing their own stories of individual and collective turning points, the contributors explore how body image and yoga practice intersect with race and ethnicity, sexual orientation, gender identity, dis-ability, class and socioeconomic status, age, size, and society.

Pia Guerrero writes about how yoga was her tool to accept her body when struggling with Lupus and fibromyalgia, and like many writers in the book cites a yoga practice as a crucial tool to deal with perfectionism tendencies. ‘There is no perfection, just happiness’ writes Robyn Baker in her essay on using yoga as a way to assist with recovery from an eating disorder.

Media comes under the lens of many writers in the book, particularly the way that marketing employs ‘sneaky attempts to create or validate insecurities as an attempt to sell the solution,’ as Lisa Diers describes it. Jessamyn Stanley writes about how she has used Instagram to challenge the rich, thin, white girl image that pervades the yoga world, and Cyndi Lee speaks about her #selfie@sixty practice.

Taking up space isn’t something that we are encouraged to do in today’s world, yet that’s exactly what Gwen Soffer calls us to do. Kimber Simpkins calls on us to challenge the narratives of what constitutes a ‘good’ diet and exercise practice, and listen to the ‘expert within.’

Representation is something that the Yoga and Body Image Coalition are passionate about. In this book there are stories from people of all ages, body types and race, all of whom have found yoga as a way that they can change their own lives and the world they live in.

The aim of the coalition, and of this book, is to make the healing balm of yoga and meditation accessible to everybody, and every body. These essays are examples of how that path is beginning to be trod. It’s early days, but change is happening. We have to challenge the dominant narratives and rebel against the structures that keep us stuck, but through storytelling and practice, we can do so.

Yoga Rising: 30 Empowering Stories from Yoga Renegades for Every Body by Melanie Klein is published by Llewellyn Publications.

Moving Pieces‘ work is about finding the stories that reside in the body, and allowing them the space to breathe and be with freedom. Founder and director Charlie Blowers has a background in physical theatre and arts and somatic psychotherapy, and through her work explores the relationship between wellbeing and theatre. The goal of Charlie and co-director Jose is to support wellbeing and mental health as well as create theatre with a compelling narrative.

Their approach uses body based approaches emerging from neuroscience, many of which stabilise the nervous system and support self regulation. Through mask work, mindfulness, Feldenkrais method, storytelling and improvisation, participants are invited to bring their awareness to their experience, notice the subtle shifts in the body as it responds to its surroundings, and bring forth the stories that are held in the body. As Charlie explains, ‘sometimes our thoughts hold our body prisoner.’ Moving Pieces aim to liberate the body and the stories within. It’s an opportunity to process many of the feelings that often go unnoticed; or are pushed away so as not to notice them.

Through mask work I’m struck how much time we spend pretending to be someone else. Improvisation makes me reflect on the structures and ideas that stop us truly presenting ourselves to the world. Slow flowing movement is a welcome reprieve from the fast paced and frenetic pace of life.

Open to artists, mental health professionals, anyone with mental health challenges or those who simply want to explore personal story in a creative way, Moving Pieces offers a distinctive approach to exploring the body, building resilience and devising theatre.

The website was founded by Oliver Chittenden, who has had issues with his own mental health. Recognising that it can be hard to seek out help, and that people still face stigma when they do so, he wanted to create a digital platform that ‘gathered together content in an inspiring and accessible way for people to learn about the many practical things we can do to feel better about ourselves and be better version of ourselves. In fact the premise was that this was for everyone, not just for those that struggle.’

There’s a lot of variety in terms of content – talks, videos, podcasts, and things to read – which was important to Oliver. He recognises that the ‘one size fits all’ approach simply does not work. ‘We have to go on a journey, try things out, learn and be inspired to add resources for our wellbeing especially today with so many pressures’, he says. ‘We need to adapt with the times.’ The toolbox function at Head Talks allows you to create your own playlists tailored to your ‘Head Talk’ journey, and these can also be shared. You can also look at alternative therapies and ideas, allowing you to support your mental health in ways that work for you.

It’s an accessible space for people to come to share experiences and speak honestly. Oliver was keen to avoid an overly academic or medical tone, which can be overwhelming for people. One of the main benefits is feeling part of a community. ‘People feel like they are in a room with a therapist or someone talking honestly about a lived experience of mental health. Loneliness in our society is rife – with Head Talks you can feel less lonely especially if you are in crisis or struggling.’

Of course, sometimes more professional medical help is needed. Oliver doesn’t pretend to have all the the answers. ‘Head Talks is informative and hopefully will act as a springboard towards someone taking action based on having heard a podcast or watched a ‘Head Talk’. If in crisis, one should always go to their GP and share their problems, which, in 10 minutes is challenging, but it is a start.’ But with the challenges of mental health funding an overstretched NHS, there certainly is a place for sites such as HeadTalks. ‘These types of initiatives that are free of bureaucracy are vital,’ says Oliver. ‘It is a place to feel part of a wider community and feel less lonely when times are tough.’

The exhibition begins with posters and advertising promoting the health giving benefits of cigarettes. The mode and means of communication is only as effective as the message and belief behind it, and once it was deemed that smoking was healthy. We then see the sleek and sexy Silk Cut ad campaigns from the 1980s, followed by children’s cartoons promoting an anti smoking message, and the transition to plain packaging.

Symbols we’ve come to recognise and that are ubiquitous in our landscape, such as the green cross of pharmacy’s or the Red Cross depicting impartiality and safety. It’s explained how the font and typography used in hospitals came to be selected – clear, neutral and plain – and the importance of good signage.

Inspiration is taken from good design elsewhere. Miffy creator Dick Bruna’s inimitable style is used for a book about haemophilia, whilst UNICEF’s Ebola symptom posters of 2014 are evocative of Ladybird. The 1980s campaign AIDS: Don’t Die of Ignorance is a stark reminder of the importance of clear messaging, whilst the value of storytelling is apparent through Rejane Dal Bello‘s identity for a children’s hospital in Arequipa, that uses bright colours and happy characters to help ease the worries of young patients.

‘Graphic Design in and of itself isn’t that interesting,’ says Rebecca Wright, Programme Director of Graphic Communication Design, ‘what is interesting is what it does in relation to the subject that it’s serving. It is a service industry for the public and it comes to life in that context.’

Can Graphic Design Save Your Life? The answer from this exhibition is a resounding yes.

Using words to soothe the emotions and alter thoughts is the root of bibliography – the use of literature to help people deal with psychological, social and emotional problems. The concept dates back to 300 BC when ancient civilizations placed inscriptions over library entrances that stated that within the building was healing for the soul. Aristotle considered literature to have healing benefits and reading fiction to be a way of treating illness and in Titus Andronicus William Shakespeare encourages the audience to ‘Come, and take choice of all my library, And so beguile thy sorrow … ’

Although stemming from ancient cultures, one of the first times it was applied to medical care in the UK was after World War I to help treat the emotional trauma suffered by returning soldiers, when engagement and occupation with books in psychiatric institutions was seen to be beneficial for the patients’ general sense of wellbeing. More recently it has been recommended by the National Institute for Health and Clinical Excellence (NICE) UK as a useful start in treating mild and moderate depression, anxiety and panic and some other mental health problems. In Ireland GPs suggest specific titles through the Power of Words scheme and on the other side of the world, Central West Libraries in New South Wales has developed a Books on Prescription scheme.

Different forms of bibliotherapy exist. Some is very much within the self-help genre, whereas other therapists ‘prescribe’ personal reading lists based on the type of literature a person favours, whereas others still offer guided group reading sessions, known as creative bibliotherapy. This is what Sharon Dunscombe, who runs Tales for Tea offers, via the practice of sharing great works of literature by reading them aloud, together. She describes this as a ‘deeply personal and social experience’ where the text and pleasure of reading is enough in itself, but can be enhanced by the experience of engaging with it in a group. Sharon believes that ‘It is my duty as a bibliotherapist to make connections; personal connections between the content of the books and the people I read to, thus promoting a therapeutic response.’

It was after running reading groups in a junior school whilst studying for her Level 3 NVQ that Sharon came to bibliotherapy. She discovered that the children responded very well to the stories being read to them by unconsciously relating their lives to the works she was reading. She describes herself as ‘a complete bibliophile and [I] have eaten books and words like bowls of warm nourishment from a very early age!’ Reading is not just something that children benefit from, and groups are starting up all over the country for people from all walks of life.

Rachel, author of Black Rainbow, a writer and bibliotherapist, who, amongst other workshops, works with prisoners at Wormwood Scrubs, knows first hand the value of using poetry and prose as an aid to psychological healing and wellbeing. When faced with depression, suicidal thoughts and hospitalisation, ‘an illness that left me inconsolable and tormented by pain and fear’ her mother began to read to her. The poems and passages she read became props for Rachel. ‘I clung to particular lines and phrases as if they were carefully constructed life rafts: a particular favourite was an excerpt from Corinthians: “My grace is sufficient for thee; my strength is made perfect in weakness” which I repeated to myself in the style of a mantra or prayer. As I began to recover, I grew to rely more and more on the healing power of consoling poetry and prose. As I gradually re-learnt how to focus my attention and read for myself, I sought out texts with a compassionate voice that helped me feel less alone; as well as pieces of writing that transformed my perspective.’

Experiments by Professor Philip Davis from the School of English at the University of Liverpool suggests that complex prose and poetry increases electrical activity in the brain. Rachel believes that ‘We can draw a relationship between reading poems and increased focus plus the ability to engage in something outside of oneself, thereby separating oneself from the ‘ego’: an important component of mental health. ‘ Reading is a personal endeavour using internal processes but featuring external voices, and therefore useful in focusing the reader on examining their ‘self’ and coming to terms with their emotions and challenging accepted but unhelpful thoughts, via prompts from others in a safe and contained environment.

Samuel Crothers, the man who coined the term bibliotherapy described its stages as Identification, Catharsis and Insight.  Essentially, the reader identifies with some aspect of the story, finds release in sharing with the character’s feelings, and gains insight into how to apply that to dealing with their own emotions.

There can be no doubt that literature transforms us and the process of reading is a very healing process, but the way in which it does so can vary significantly. Words can help people realise emotions, and the result can be that emotions deep inside are then able to be expressed and shared. Books can help to provide different perspectives and the suggestion of an alternative course of action. They may be inspiring, through the story or character. For some it is the actual doing, the practice of devoting half an hour a day to a regular activity, which can help provide a sense of solidity for some people, as a safe place unchanging and apart from difficulties faced in the world and a place of escapism. Others may simply respond to the rhythm of the words and the flow of sentences, finding themselves absorbed and in an almost meditative state.

The exact benefits may not be rigidly defined, and we may never be able to conduct laboratory experiments or collect reams of data to prove the case for bibliotherapy being of medical assistance, but it certainly is another tool in the world and an asset to support mental health. As Rachel writes in Black Rainbow – ‘Words were what I knew, what I had always relied on.’

Bristol’s Creative Youth Network and their seasonal performance of Turkey is a production formed through collaborative workshops with young people participating in their schemes and arts initiatives, all based on true stories . Written by Alice Nicholas, directed by Nick Young and produced by Emily Bull, although very much created by the cast and their peers, this immersive and real life performance at The Station is both tender and gripping – just like the rest of the festive season.

‘T’was the night before Christmas’ begins our narrator Theo (Jake Bartlett), in his dazzling glitzy jacket – and as we hear from the characters it can be everything from borderline hell or most wonderful time of the year.’  Homelessness, poverty, loneliness, broken relationships and illness can all take their toll – and the feeling of being alone and failing is only exacerbated by what looks like the perfect Christmas that everyone else all around is having.  . Often through no fault of their own individuals find themselves unable to produce that perfect day, ‘just like everyone else.’ That’s what Abigail (Cirwen Farrant) wants for her and her unborn baby Biscuit, and she speaks tenderly to her child about the eternal hope of the new year and what it will bring. ‘I should be happy and full of Christmas cheer’ our characters feel – that should weighing them down.

Like most ‘perfect’ things in life, the depiction tends to be a somewhat filtered version of events. Whether it’s the Black Friday consumerist fight, one-upmanship pursuit, the hypocrisy of ‘pretending to believe in Jesus once a year then go back to being c*nts’, the demands of bratty children, finding out Father Christmas isn’t real, or  just the fact that domestic bliss skates on thin smiles that crack by something as simple as not buying ribbon. In the pursuit of the ideal Christmas the endless ‘rush, anxiety, panic and failure’ ring more loudly than any peace and goodwill.

Or so it seems. Because for everyone who walks straight past the homeless, there’s those like Hazel’s (Emily Gilbert) family who invite Alfie (Matt Fleming) and his ‘invisibility cloak’ in for dinner. Or Abigail and her sister Jas hand crafting presents. Or the mother supported through her breakdown.

And people like Creative Youth Network and the participants of Turkey. As well providing a brilliant evening’s entertainment and making the whole audience think, they invited us all to share a meal with them, all donated by FareShare and would have gone to landfill otherwise. Sharing, laughing, and feeling part of a community – that’s what Christmas is about, and that’s what Creative Youth dished up with their Turkey.

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Music is pretty powerful. It’s the undeniable euphoria and buzz that comes from hearing a song you love, the effect akin to walking on sunshine whilst watching lambs frolic king gleefully after you’ve just necked your morning triple shot coffee. It’s the ability of a song to transport you to a place, time and feeling that you thought was long lost in the midst of time. It’s the potential to totally change your mood from Jekyll like to that of Hyde. But it is not just in everyday life that music has some ‘magic’ qualities.

There’s no denying that music has a profound impact on mental and physical wellbeing as well. A study by Nature Neuroscience in 2011 found that listening to music produces dopamine, the chemical released at moments of enjoyment, just like other stimuli such as food, sex and exercise, making it an enriching part of a healthy life. Research has shown that those levels of dopamine are nine percent higher when the listener actually enjoys the music, so the music itself doesn’t have to be of a certain clever kind to benefit you.

And so, music can be used as a treatment to make people happier, healthier, and recover from illness. Far from new age nonsense, this is tried and tested science. Music therapy, that is the use of music to treat patients with mental and physical ailments, has earned its place in the medical world and is a core option available on the NHS. There are also voluntary and charity groups such as Core Arts, Creative Routes and Music in Hospitals all working to deliver the benefits of music therapy to those suffering from a range of conditions, both mental and physical. All aspects of music – playing, listening, singing and writing – are included in music therapy, and sessions aim to reduce tension and anxiety, allow the opportunity for expression and communication, help people engage, and have proven physical benefits.

First developing as a profession in World War I, music as an aspect of healing rituals has existed for centuries, and it was in the 18^th century that scientists first began to investigate the impact of music on the respiratory and cardiac systems of the body. Louis Roger’s theoretical work A Treatise on the Effects of Music on the Human Body, published in 1748, discussed how the regularity of the beat helped focus and concentration, and the vibrations had an impact upon blood flow and nerves. Some people even cite its use right back to the Bible, when David played the harp to King Soul to rid him of bad spirits.

Numerous recent studies have also revealed benefits for patients suffering both physical and mental ailments. A 2009 trial of patients with heart disease found that just one thirty minute session of music therapy could significantly improve health, and Mozart’s Sonata K448 has been proven to reduce the frequency and severity of epileptic attacks.

An explanation of how this works can be seen in the process called entrainment, where music is used as a tool in helping sufferers of strokes recover and regain the ability to form thought patterns that will help decrease depression, reduce anxiety and improve the mood. Essentially the parts of the brain controlling particular functions become synchronised with a beat, selected to stimulate a particular and more helpful brain state.

Clearly a powerful stimulant, the relaxing effects of music therapy have been indicated by reductions on blood pressure and pulse rates, an increase in oxygen saturation, and thus ultimately less pain. Aristotle believed that ‘by music a man becomes accustomed to feeling the right emotions,’ and for those having difficulty engaging with the emotions that work for them, music therapy is an excellent way to practice.

The more often people engage with music, the greater the cognitive benefit. Like anything, practice makes perfect, and by stimulating neural pathways in the brain that are not as often used in everyday life, the brain literally gets a whole beneficial workout.

Music is not only an impressive art form, but also a life-changing resource with the ability to improve both a person’s health and wellbeing. In short, music truly does sound good.