So it would appear that the Time Thief has been revisiting me.
For those of you who are unaware of who the ‘Time Thief’ is, that is the name I give to the experience of suddenly realizing that whole heaps of time seemed to have slipped away and having no idea where they have gone or what you have been doing during that time.
If you are interested in poetry, I wrote a poem about this way back in October 2011 and you can read or hear (simply visit the link provided and click on the arrow) that poem here. [Apologies for the poor recording, I think I had a cold at the time]
So I woke up this morning and decided that the first thing I wanted to do (after the obligatory coffee in order to make the world slightly acceptable) was do a little ironing.
I had to help arrange for an elderly neighbor of mine to go into hospital as he wasn’t doing so well on Tuesday and I noticed that he had some recently washed laundry in his washing machine. Knowing that this would have smelled and gone mouldy by the time he returns, I took it home to dry and iron for him. But having had poor weather it has taken longer to dry and I was feeling guilty for not having ironed it yet.
Putting the Television on to give me something to watch and listen to whilst ironing I was shocked and stunned to learn that today is actually Friday.
I have absolutely no idea where the week has gone. Actually what is even more disconcerting is the fact that I have little to no idea what I have done all week or huge chunks of it at least.
I do know that I was busy studying all Monday and then went out to Bible Study in the evening and I do know that on Tuesday a huge part of the day was occupied with helping my neighbor and talking with his family. I also know that I did manage to blog something on Wednesday and a friend came over late Wednesday evening but outside of those times I have no idea what I have been up to.
This really is most disconcerting as I know that there is so much that I really do want to get done and yet have done so very little of it. I haven’t even been reading and commenting on other bloggers’ posts as I normally do and that is so very unlike me too.
Additionally I started responding to comments and writing this post over two hours ago and it seems that my mind has developed some sort of run ahead dyslexia this morning whereby I am typing letters all of out of order, even now whilst writing this.
This means that I am spending as much time altering and correcting typing mistakes here and in comments and text and Viber messages as I am writing the actual messages or words themselves.
A quick check on my meds – which are sorted and dated into daily sets for me – in response to just such circumstances tells me I haven’t been taking meds either. Not good.
Time to pray and to try find some order and sense me thinks.
And on the positive side, which I always try to see, I am at least aware of it and can at least try to compensate for it and of course take my meds today.
Horrible aren’t they? They come like vermin and steal from you.
Nearly always without invite and all too often without reason they just show up and wreak havoc and then leave. Generally doing so leaving you confused, drained and very often anxious that they might return again soon.
Certainly that is what happened to me yesterday and I have to be honest it was so very tough.
Actually before this I was having a really good day. I had woken up early in the morning and had my normal cuppa before answering emails and then got on with some studying which was going very well.
Some very dear friends from my former Church text me and asked if I was up for a visit, which I of course was as I had not seen them for such a long time and always enjoy their company
Their visit went well and I then returned to some blogging and some more studying and then I went and rested and watched television for a little bit.
And then it hit me! Bang! The mood vermin descended
on me without warning and my mood crashed and with it my ability to think properly.
What happened for the rest of the evening I really couldn’t tell you. I do know that I went to bed at some point only waking up much later and with my general mood and ability to think properly pretty much being restored.
I also know that sometime shortly after my mood crashed I received a text from a friend telling me that they couldn’t take me to church this Sunday. This didn’t help my mood and mind crash any, but is perfectly understandable and I very much appreciate the times when they are able to take me to church.
At some point during what was to be a very unsettled night I answered emails and blog comments and as I said with my general mood and ability to think properly being pretty much restored.
I also know that I did shortly after this happened ask for prayer, and I am grateful for this and the fact that it no doubt helped.
Today I find that I am not quite right but way better than I was yesterday evening and I am of course so very grateful for that. The anxiety that I mentioned which often accompanies such an episode is of course with me but I am keen not to recreate the same crash as a result of it. If that make sense.
I often talk about the little man inside my head and explain that he sometimes gets things wrong, suffers from insomnia, confusion and the such. Last night, it seems, he was overrun with mind vermin. Hm perhaps I will have to buy him a cat
They were words that my mother no doubt said to me as a young boy and a message that I think most parents impart to their children at some point or another.
I think we would all agree that knives and children just don’t make for a good combination. So I wonder how you will respond to this little video…
Don’t worry no knife was hurt in the making of this film and thankfully neither was any child.
So how did watching that old video make you feel? Did the ‘near miss’ make your heart leap like mine did? Of course the film is very old (1950′s) and ‘things was different back then’.
But I can’t help wondering how many Health and Safety executives, or Child Protection agencies and workers, would be near to exploding if they saw such a thing today?
It just seems so wrong doesn’t it? So counter-intuitive. Throwing knives around when there are small children about. Let alone actually throwing knives at them – well virtually at them. Here’s a reasonable statement for you…
Knives can hurt! They can cut! They can pierce! They can stick! And they can scar!
Rational, caring, responsible people don’t go throwing potentially harmful words at small children, loved ones or other people or even around when they are in the vicinity.
We are more caring than that aren’t we?
Well what if we take ‘knives’ out of that statement and put ‘words’ in there in its place instead?
Words can hurt! They can cut! They can pierce! They can stick! And they can scar!
Rational, caring, responsible people don’t go throwing potentially harmful words at small children, loved ones or other people or even around when they are in the vicinity.
Oops! We appear to have a problem here, don’t we?
Whilst the first part of our new statement remains true, the second part – the part that speaks about how we behave – no longer rings so true, does it?
Sadly the truth is that sometimes we do go “throwing potentially harmful words at small children, loved ones or other people or even around when they are in the vicinity.“
Knives can hurt! If we jab or stab or slice or cut ourselves and can’t harmful words do the very same thing? Isn’t it true that often the damage they do is much deeper, often less easily seen and all too often much longer lasting?
Knives can cut! They can cut our skin but harmful words can cut even deeper can’t they?
Knives can pierce! They can pierce our skin and flesh and muscle and they can do untold damage but can’t harmful words do even more untold damage? Damage which often goes unseen? Isn’t it true that harmful words can pierce even our very heart?
Knives can stick! Didn’t we see that in that old video? But isn’t it true that harmful words can often stick deeper and longer?
Knives can scar! As a self-harmer trust me I know this is so very true. But don’t harmful words often scar, doing so much deeper and for much longer?
Ask any medical practitioner – nurse, doctor, etc – which they would generally rather treat, external bleeding or internal bleeding and I am pretty sure they would say external bleeding because it is easier to treat and often results from less serious damage tha internal bleeding does.
And the truth that lays behind that answer in respect of physical wounds is just as true of emotional, and psychological wounds.
So we have to I think ask ourselves, if we are deliberately responsible when it comes to knives, why are we so much less responsible when it comes to words?
This blog is about mental illness and I make no secret of my mental illness and the ways in which it affects or impacts me. I try my best to be as open as I can in the hope that it will not only benefit me but also help others who suffer from similar mental illness.
Being so open about my mental illness opens me up to all sorts of reactions and responses and trust me some of them are good and some are pretty bad. But I do so because I believe in the benefit of being open about it and because my faith and beliefs as a Christian prohibit me from living a lie. (Something which sadly I did for far too long in respect of my mental health.)
But being a Christian does not remove me from the same kind of attacks or unhealthy or unhelpful responses and reactions that many folk with poor mental health or who suffer with mental illness are subjected to.
One of the ways in which my mental health effects me, which is very relevant to this piece is that confrontations, disagreements, unhelpful or unhealthy comments seem to affect me more than most.
For some reason the voices in my head latch on to them, cling to them, focus on them. They, and my internal dialogue, repeatedly throw them back at me for days after the actual original statement was made by someone, or for days after the original confrontation or disagreement.
Monday evening I went to Bible study with a group of fellow Christians at the church I attend. During that evening I had a civilized and non-abusive disagreement with one of the other people there. Additionally one or two statements where made which truly unsettled me. And here we are on Wednesday afternoon and my mind has not been able to let this go.
I need to point out and make it very clear that no-one said anything rude or deliberately disrespectful and that I am convinced that no harm was deliberately intended. And yet harm was without doubt done to and possibly by me.
This is a group of loving, respectful and well-intentioned Christian brothers and sisters and still hurt happened. And that is the point isn’t it? That even in the most well intentioned and loving group and circumstances these things – being hurt by harmful words and hurting others by harmful or careless words – are still possible.
My faith has already enabled me to forgive that which was said and the harm that was done. My mind and my mental illness may be much slower at letting go of these things and no doubt will continue to use them against me.
All I can do in that regard is stand on 2 Corinthians 10:5..
5 We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ. (NIV)
But I do also recognize my own weaknesses and failings in all of this and I do unreservedly apologize for any time when my words have been careless and harmful and have caused hurt to others.
And I do also want to encourage us all to be careful with our words and to remember that they all too often can be just as, if not more, dangerous as the sharpest knife.
If I had to describe my current mental health status using weather terms that would be the description that I would currently use as it is the most fitting that I could think of at this time.
“Overcast with a forecast of inclement weather”
Not a very positive report I know. But then I like to keep things real and I am acutely aware of my mental health and how it affects me and as I said, I couldn’t think of a more accurately descriptive report.
The thing is that whilst it give some information about what is happening right now and indeed does carry with it some warning of what is likely to come it doesn’t commit to anything too specific. Does it say tornadoes, hurricanes, whirlwinds, gales, etc? No. It just says that what is to come is likely to be stormy, tempestuous and severe.
The thing is that I just don’t know what is to come. I just know how I am at the moment – hence the “overcast” statement and I just know what feeling like this, being like this, normally leads to.
But we all get times like this don’t we? Times when we feel that there is little to no sunshine in our lives or even on the immediate horizon? Times when, for no apparent reason we get a sense of impending doom?
I mean surely those things, those feelings, those thought processes, are not unique to those of us who suffer from poor mental health or with mental illness? No of course they aren’t but here’s the deal.
When you do suffer from poor mental health or from mental illness, and know how that poor mental health or mental illness plays out in your life, those feelings – those thought processes, are usually far more accurate and are usually indicators that all is not right within and trouble is indeed in store.
Sadly, what they don’t often come with is specific indications as to just what kind of inclement mental health weather is to come.
Physically I am run down at the moment and, as the trip to the doctor today has confirmed I have indeed had flu for the past few weeks and on top of that also have a sinus infection.
I am very much aware of this and I am very much aware that this is affecting my overall poor physical health, sleep patterns and general mental health. LIkewise I am also aware that one of the conditions that I suffer from is paranoid schizophrenia. Impending doom and paranoia are close relatives in my experience and I also need to bear that in mind.
But I find myself extremely agitated an anxious at the moment and I find myself very much on edge. I want to sleep and hope the whole thing goes away, but know that sleep avoids me once again.
I want to reason this whole thing out with logic but find myself in that heelish place where I can reason enough to work out things are not right but not so much that I can reason my way beyond that or out of that. I dislike this particular place of confused and impaired mental agility and in response to that comes the temptation to self-medicate to such a degree where reason is no longer possible. But then isn’t that what the voices want?
My faith of course assures me that I will get through this and yet that same faith and assurance condemns me to go through it and not to give in.
Suicide and Self-harm discussed in general within this post. Whilst all caution has been taken in the writing of this post reader caution is also advised.
I wonder if you have ever wanted to send a parcel or letter or message at work and been asked, as part of the office mailing system to “Please Indicate Priority Level” as part of that system.
In fac t setting priorities is something that most of us do most days and a lot of times without even having to consciously think about it.
But what makes one thing a priority over something else and indeed what changes something from being a priority to be urgent?
After all, whilst there are common criteria which we all use isn’t it also true that sometimes we have our own personal criteria which others may not agree with.
Take for these following scenario and statements for example.
In this scenario you have a friend who has mental health issues and can as a result of them be quite demanding on you and your time.
Naturally this in turn places you under a great deal of pressure in respect of your other obligations and so you have to decide which of the following statements your friend makes you need to respond to immediately – the urgent ones if you will, which you need to respond to fairly quickly but not right away necessarily – a priority but not urgent, and which you can safely respond to when you have a little more time…
Here are the statements, simply place them in order of priority…
A ) Feeling blue
B) Doesn’t want to go on living.
C) Feeling suicidal
D) Feeling like life isn’t worth living anymore.
E) Feeling kind of ok but not quite right.
F) Feeling like I want to hurt myself
G) I don’t feel anything
H) Feeling ok thanks.
Its a difficult choice to make isn’t it?
How about we change the scenario a little? What if instead of how you are going to respond to a friend and his or her feelings and subsequent statements, we instead make those your feeling and your statements. How would you prioritize them now?
After all, let’s be honest here, if you look at that list and place them in order from least urgent to most urgent it is very easy to see that actually those statements can so easily lead into each other and one can very quickly change to another.
As someone who experiences all of the mindsets behind those statements and as who, I am sure, made all of those statements from time to time I can testify how easily an quickly one mindset can lead to another.
Today the blogosphere or more precisely the mental health section of the blogosphere is awash with Suicide related posts and rightly so since today (Sept 10th 2012) is World Suicide Prevention Day.
Whilst this is all about awareness, for me, the key word in all of this has to be Prevention. Very often recognizing any progressions in our mental health can be an essential to preventing escalations in it.
And when it comes to suicidal thoughts I know first hand how, for me at least and I am sure for others, those mindsets and thought processes that I have listed within our statements above can lead into each other and cause those dangerous escalations.
I need to be clear here. Self-Harming isn’t always linked to suicide or suicidal thoughts and it is possible for those who do Self-Harm to not even consider Suicide, just as it is possible for those who consider suicide not have ever considered or practiced Self-Harm.
But for those of us who do struggle with Self-Harm, and Suicide Ideation the risks are obvious and the risks of escalations in poor mental health or harmful mindsets are just as real for all of us.
Having the wrong approach to our thought processes. Not dealing with them when they need addressing. Not seeking help when it is needed and available or not finding help when it is needed and our normal help sources are not available can all be so very harmful. Even and especially when you don’t feel we deserve or are not worth that help.
So I am going to display our list of mindsets and statements again and ask you to do something for me.
Looking at our list identify the statements and mindsets which you are familiar with and decide on healthy responses to them and the priority of responses needed.
A ) Feeling blue
B) Doesn’t want to go on living.
C) Feeling suicidal
D) Feeling like life isn’t worth living anymore.
E) Feeling kind of ok but not quite right.
F) Feeling like I want to hurt myself
G) I don’t feel anything
H) Feeling ok thanks.
And once you have done that – how about making a commitment to do all you can to afford yourself those responses from now on?
Because no matter what you have done or how you have feel about yourself I am convinced that there is hope, that you are and can be worth it, and that affording yourself and taking the right responses can prevent so much hardship.
And I am convinced that making our own well-being a priority in our lives is all part of the doorway to better mental health.
I am sure you probably have, or at least know of the game.
You build a tower comprising of alternating layers of blocks (normally 3 across) and then take turns removing a block each and replacing it at the top of the tower.
In time the top blocks become the bottom blocks and so it goes on until the tower falls or is knocked down as a result of instability.
Actually it can be great fun, although not a good game for the less steady handed amongst us, and I am sure has provided a lot of good clean entertainment for many a family.
But what if instead of blocks they were experiences and what it instead of a tower it was a life – your life that we were dealing with?
In the game of Jenga the more blocks which are removed and replaced the more unstable (unless you are extremely cautious) the tower becomes and thus the longer the game goes on.
Blocks are placed slightly askew or in the wrong place and this in turn adds to the instability of the tower and increases the chance of it coming crashing down.
Of course within the game you don’t have the freedom, on spotting a block or blocks which is making the tower unstable, of going back and replacing or repairing it in order to stabilize your tower.
(It would after all kind of defeat the purpose of the game) But is that, does that, have to be true of our lives and those experiences that we spoke of earlier?
Oscar Wilde, the Irish writer and poet, once said…
One’s past is what one is. It is the only way by which people should be judged.
It’s an interesting position isn’t it? Not one that I entirely agree with it has to be said, although I do have some sympathy with the idea that we are, at least in part, made up from our pasts.
But then the same Oscar Wilde also said…
Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future.
This is something which I more fully agree with, although it could be argued that the two quotes are almost somewhat contradictory.
Isn’t it true that sometimes our pasts can sometimes alter our perceptions or indeed do sometimes come back to haunt us in life? Sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worst?
For me personally I fully believe that the past is a ghost which has a voice in our present only as much as we allow it that voice.
And like all ghosts we need to be very careful just what voice we do actually afford it.
But we also need to remember, I think, that like all ghosts it is not always seen even if it is there, and even when it is having an effect on our present.
How many of us have had experiences in the past which still haunt our dreams? Experiences that are the fuel of panic attacks and the playground of our nightmares?
But what about the less obvious, the less dramatic and yet just as harmful effects? How many of us have taken on board the labels or attitudes or self-images that where repeatedly thrown at us throughout our childhoods?
I know I certainly have, and I am fairly certain I am not the only one.
The truth is that unlike our game of Jenga, where we do not have the freedom to revisit those blocks which are causing our towers to go slightly askew or become unstable, in life we can revisit those experiences which are or have sent our lives or our perceptions askew and which are making us unstable.
Isn’t this the very essence of a lot of therapy?
The English writer Leslie Poles Hartley (1895-1972) once wrote these words…
The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.
Well whilst I might agree with him in respect of human history and of society, I have to say that in terms of our individual pasts sometimes it is an invader who forces us to do things differently here.
The question we are left with therefore are, in respect of our own life, for the sake of both our present and our future, are we aware of that invasion and what are we going to do about it?
The fact that suicidal thoughts and ideation has been part of my life since early childhood is no secret and I have written about it on this blog several times before.
It is a subject dear to my heart as it is a very real spectre that can haunt the mind of many a person. Not only those of us who suffer from poor mental health, but many a person and it can and has also cast very dark shadows over the lives of those who have lost a loved one through suicide.
World Suicide Prevention Day 2012 is on September 10th this year and it is something I am encouraging everyone to get involved in.
The world Health Organisation state that…
The number of lives lost each year through suicide exceeds the number of deaths due to homicide and war combined.
Its a staggering statistic isn’t it? And we need to be very mindful that this is also a very real threat to many of our young people.
So why not get involved?
One way is to light a candle at or near a window on September 10th at 8pm. to show your support for Suicide prevention, to remember a lost loved one, and for the survivors of suicide.
And there are other ways in which you can get involved and show your support, especially if you have a mental health blog.
Why not reblog this post or write your own piece in support of this important issue?
I am also going to be placing some resources on the Mental Health Writers Guild Recourses page which you are welcome to use. Or alternatively why not visit the links below for further details.
In a comment to a previous post I was asked, “How do you drag yourself out of these dark places, these dark moods? These depressed episodes? And the truth is that sometimes that is virtually impossible without assistance…
Last night I sat watching a bit of television and there was absolutely nothing on which suited my mood at the time. “I know,” thought I. “I will see what is available on Netflix. I fancy watching a really dark sad and tragic movie.” But then I realized they hadn’t made my autobiography into a movie yet.”
There is some ironic humor in that statement, that tought process, isn’t there? In a dark, sad kind of way I mean.
Actually the only truth in that statement is the fact that a) I did think it and b) they haven’t made my autobiography into a movie. And yes I have actually written an autobiography of my life.
The fact is that my life (and indeed my autobiography for that matter) is neither dark nor sad nor tragic. Does it contain dark, sad or tragic episodes? Yes it does, (don’t so many of our lives?) but I certainly wouldn’t label or describe it that way and in fact it has been woven with as many amazing and incredible moments as it has dark, sad or tragic ones.
And the truth is that I rarely if ever willingly or knowingly watch that type of movie.
But then that is the nature of depression isn’t it? It can re-color things or even bleach the color out of things. Likewise it can corrupt and pervert our perception or focus causing us to be drawn to the macabre or the tragic or the dark.
Being aware of this and remaining mindful of this – especially when such thought processes logically progress to suicidal ideation can be so very important. Having coping mechanisms in place with which to combat such a progress is also so very important.
I am mindful of a wood or forest at this point. As you enter into it the trees are fairly spread out and light is breaking through the gaps and the branches. The further in you get the thicker the forest or wooded area gets and the thicker and closer together those trees get and subsequently less and less light breaks through until eventually you see neither light nor individual trees just darkness all around you.
Instead of trees think of wounds and hurts, guilts and shames, stessors and problems. Look at them all spread out and thinly planted around you and you see each one and you also see the light – that hope.
But allow yourself to walk right down into the thick of it and they become one mass, a blanket, a barrier, a trap and they block out the light – that hope that joy that we all need to survive.
That for me is the first lesson. Recognizing that entering into that pathway of thoughts will lead you deeper in and exactly what is there for you if you do go down it. And there are other important lessons/considerations…
Separating the trees (or individual thoughts and either dismissing ech individual one without further consideration or combating them (chopping them down) and then very importantly letting go and letting them stay down. Thus allowing that light to shine through.
Recognizing where that light (that hope and that joy) comes from and how important it is. Remembering that this is what you need to be looking towards and staying close to. The minute a thought process seems to be removing or blocking that light – walk backwards in your mind and allow yourself to face that particular thought process another day when you are more able.
Of course I do recognize that it is not always that easy. As someone who suffers from poor mental health and a number of mental health issues I know only too well that sometime we just cannot control where I mind will take us.
BUT the truth is that there are times, plenty of times, when we can.
I started of this post with a statement reflecting a thought process I had last night – one which said, “I need a movie which will match my mood.” PErfectly natural and understandable you might think, but I would suggest that as natural and understandable as it may at first seem it is without doubt a harmful thought process?
Why match a dark mood? A Sad mood? A tragic mood? Why feed those moods? Where will doing so lead? Why not try to combat them and try to speak into them and change them for the better?
Actually instead of matching or feeding the dark mood was in I watched a comedy. After that I read some comments hereon my blog, I listened to some upbeat Christian music.
Can I say that doing so lifted my mood noticeably and dragged me out of the darkness that I have been experiencing? No in all honesty I can’t.
BUT and like mine this really is a big but it never fed that mood and never dragged me further into that darkness and that is noticeable and that is a victory that is well worth acknowledging.
IS the darkness still there? Yes I am afraid it is. Are the suicidal thoughts still lingering, still threatening? Yes I am afraid they are. But it hasn’t gotten worse and I can still see flickers of light, signs of hope and that is so very important.
Today I have worked in the house, bought and constructed a bench to go in my garden and with the help of my son and his partner hung all of those blinds that I have been washing and had put out to dry.
A dear friend from my old church came round to see me today and that was a very real blessing also.
So those are the rays of light breaking through the darkness that tries to cover me and I am going to recognize them, hold on to them, and thank God for them.
Firstly and before anything else I would like to say how very touched and grateful I am by all of the comments of support and reblogging that has been offered in response to this campaign. I can’t begin to express you how grateful I am for this and how much it means to me.
As a result of such response I have been reflecting on the campaign and really feel that this is something that the Mental Health Writers Guild should be hosting as opposed to it being something which comes from this my personal blog.
Because of this I have today created a page on the MEntal Health Writers Guild blog and I hope therefore that in this way we can generate more support and touch more lives.
You can find that page here and I have also created an honour roll on that page for those who support this campaign as I feel that support needs to be acknowledged.
Again, many, many thanks to everyone who has gotten behind this campaign! You are just awesome.
There are many different perspective concerning mental illness and indeed Bipolar Disorder itself. Some have remarked that the manic part of bipolar is a complete high. The ‘funfair’ part of it all if you will.
Well I personally don’t think the manic part is always a high in terms of ‘happiness’ or fun and I have to ell you that if the manic part is a fun fair the depressed part is definitely the wasteland.
Actually, if you talk to folk who suffer with poor mental health or with mental illness, you get used to words such a “phases” and “episodes” and “levels” and “cycling”.
There is nothing unusual in this and indeed most things have associated with them certain terminology or jargon that is appropriate to that thing.
You might for example hear or read someone saying they think they are entering or exiting a “manic phase” or going into or indeed coming out of a “depressive phase”. And indeed that is perfectly understandable and quite common especially in respect of something like bipolar which in many ways is not only identified but also measured/judged by said phases.
The difficulty is however that it can lead to the misunderstanding or misconception that it has to be one or the other.
The fact is however that in my experience it simply doesn’t and that whilst certainly the ‘poles’ that are synonymous with bi’polar’ disorder are often present there is the huge area inbetween the ‘funfair’ and the ‘wasteland’.
What is also possible and in my personal experience often happens is that you can sometimes be in some yoyoing flux combining elements of both poles.
This weekend seems to have been one such time. Sometimes I am up and other times I am suddenly down and I can find no clear reason for the sporadic variation.
I have, on the face of it, had a really good weekend and have achieved a great deal but along side this I have felt like ‘death warmed up’ and each and every time I see a positive – something I have achieved this weekend – my mind (as if to turn right around, drop its pants, and moon me) throws out the awareness of a number of things that I have also failed to achieve.
I have had a great weekend in so many respects but I am aware that there are things I didn’t achieve but wanted to. I am going to try to remedy that tomorrow.
My physical health has been very poor this weekend and this has been a bit of a downer as it has hindered my attempts to get healthier. (you can follow these attempts here) And fortunately I have been able to achieve some stuff despite this. But it has been my mental health which has been the biggest concern to me.
In many ways it has been good but then right in the middle of my thinking it is good it would suddenly crash and for no apparent reason.
I need to keep an eye on this as these are often the times which prove the most harmful and tonight I have the urge to self-harm. I don’t think I will respond to it badly of follow the urge but it is definitely there. Urges and compulsions are a facet of my mental health and I am very much aware of this but then even being aware doesn’t always remove the risk. I am going to go do some things to try to distract my mind and also to hopefully tire myself out so that I can sleep tonight.
I woke just before 7 again, washed dressed and took TJ out for a walk around the field. I expected to be in a lot of pain after the way I was feeling the night before but actually and thankfully it was fine and I slept very well too.
This is now our morning routine and will be the time that I get up most mornings from now on I feel. The walk is refreshing and awakening and affords a great time to think and to pray.
Getting home I had my breakfast and then got on with some stuff on the computer.
Then my new book arrived ‘Carbs & Cals & Protein & Fat’. It really is an excellent little book and resource for helping me plan my meals properly and healthily. It basically shows lots of photos of food substances and gives their Carbs, Cal, Protein & Fat Content. (So pretty much what it says on the tin)
This was followed shortly afterwards by my new Xbox360 – an early birthday present from a dear friend. Matthew came round and helped me set this up and then it was time for lunch – which was a light lunch of a couple of sandwiches.
After this I decided to take TJ out for another walk around the field but then my new graphics tablet arrived. I actually surprised myself! Instead of unpacking and playing with my new graphics tablet (which I have wanted for years by the way) I took TJ out for the walk as I had intended and then played with my new toy
The evening was spent simply relaxing and reading through the new book and designing a new meal plan as well as exploring the features on the Xbox360. After that I took TJ out for our night time walk and was in bed by around midnight.
I have to tell you that I am truly liking this new routine (although it does still need some tweaking.) I have even cut out the sugar from my coffees and that is a biggie for me as I dislike the taste of most artificial sweeteners.
Physically..
It is without doubt very tough at times. I wake up refreshed and enjoy the early morning walk but as the day goes by I grow stiffer and stiffer and seem to ache more and more. This makes the walks harder and harder as the day goes by. BUT the reality is that I am desperately morbidly obese and that I do have some major health issues which complicate things.
What I am finding is that I am needing more sleep and so will have to adjust my bedtime to allow for the earlier mornings. But I am seriously loving not being on the computer as much and being out of the house more.
I am also very keen to see how my heart condition and Chronic Fatigue Immune Dysfunction Syndrome is effected by this and what happens if and when my CFIDS flares up again.
Mentally…
interestingly it is in respect of my mental health where I am finding the most benefit at the moment. I find that I am much more clear minded than I was and this is really helpful.
Additionally I find that I am brighter and more positive which given my bipolar and my paranoid schizophrenia is a big thing. Now I fully accept that this could simply be as a result of the change in routine and the sense that I am actually achieving something in respect of my health and thus could be temporary. But whether it is temporary or longer in term I am grateful for it and am going to make the most of it, using it to build on.
This morning I again awoke just before 7 and again took TJ for a walk. It was raining today – the first morning of rain since I started this new healthier routine/life-style and although the rain did mean that I couldn’t take TJ for a walk round the field – the ground is too bad for that – I still managed the route I usually take during the evenings and am really pleased about that.
This morning I am going to finish designing my new meal plan and then email it off to the dietitian on the team at the hospital and get her feedback on it. I have designed it with both health and economics in mind and so hopefully it will be manageable once I am more financially stable.
I am so keen to turn this all around and to beat this thing and am really enjoying the sense of actually doing things which are much more positive. I do feel very frustrated that I can’t afford to implement my healthy menu at this time but know that this will come in time. So I am very thankful for what changes I have been able to make thus far and will be interested to see the longer term effects of them both physically and mentally.
I woke up this morning before 7am and got up and washed and dressed and then took TJ out for a nice long walk around the field opposite my home before doing anything else.
To be honest that was really tough but I am delighted that i pushed through and managed it.
On coming home I made a couple of small slices of brown toast and then ordered the new artist graphic’s pad which a dear friend is buying for me so I can draw straight onto the computer. I am delighted to be getting one of these as I have been wanting one for many years now.
The post came this morning and I am delighted to be able to report that the new mask for my CPAP machine came and so I should get the full benefit of my CPAP machine from tonight onwards.
I update the website for my old church – it is a committment I decided to keep doing even though I had left that church and then Matthew and Trish came round and we sorted out the spare room (which had basically become a store room) in order to make room for the exercise bike i am borrowing from some other dear friends. Man there was a lot of stuff to sort out.
By the time we had finished this I was feeling so very tired and was worried that by the time I had rested for a bit and had some dinner I would not have the energy to take TJ for another walk tonight. The purpose of these walks are of course to exercise TJ bless him but mainly to help me lose this darned weight and so they are very important.
So I got my shoes on and took TJ for a long walk round the field this afternoon instead of the slightly shorter walk I have planned for the evenings. That way ( I thought) if I am not able for a walk this evening at least I have done the same as I had planned in terms of distance just at a different time.
Coming hoe I rested for a bit and then had a small evening meal before watching some television and then I decided that if I was careful and paced myself I could do a short walk this evening as well. That meaning I would have done three walks today instead of the two and that would be great.
It was a lovely evening and so I did just that but because it was starting to get dark decided not to take the field route but to walk down the road and back instead.
So that is what I have done and I have now designed a route to be taken in the evenings…
I live in a long quiet road which as you can see has a slight incline in it and a couple of cul-de-sacs coming off of it. (Shown on the left) I took this picture from the point where I turned around to come home and my home is almost at the end of this road. On the corner of one of those cul-de-sacs.
So I walk from my house up the incline then around one of the cul-de-sacs (pictured above) until I reach the point I took the first photograph from and then all the way back down the road and round again to the cul-de-sac my house is on the corner of.The I walk round that cul-de-sac (pictured below) and back to my house.
This is a great wa;lk as like the one round the field it taxes me but not to the point of chest pains which of course I need to be careful of.
I realize of course that exercise is just one of the things that I have to do and that my diet needs to change also. But the truth is that eating healthy costs money and that is something I really don’t have at the moment. I need to go out and buy a healthy food for the week but can’t do that until I am a little better off financially.
It frustrates me greatly that this is such an important thing and yet I can’t addreess it yet but there is nothing I can do about that as yet and so I have to be content with what i can deal with right now.
I have started eating a little more healthily and as healthily as I can on an extremely limited budget. I am also waiting for the new book to arrive in order to help me plan meals a lot better. And whilst it is very regrettable that I can’t immediately launch int a healthy diet I know that this will indeed come.
So tonight (very shortly actually) I am going to bed a happier man than I have been for some time. I finally feel as if I am making a difference and might even be winning. Even my m,ental health is better today!
In truth, I ache! I ache in places I never knew I had places and I have little doubt getting up and facing the walk in the morning is going to be tough. BUT I determined that I am going to do it.
I am mindful that I haven’t blogged anything since last Thursday and to be honest that has been because I am still shell-shocked by what I was told at the Hospital that day.
Those of you who have been following this blog and who have read the post “I Can’t Stand To Fly, I’m Not That Naive” will know that I got some very bleak news from the hospital. The truth is that it has come as a bit of a wake up call. Hopefully not too late!
I want to take this opportunity to thank all those who have sent me comments and messages and emails of support and best wishes.
The way I see it I either give in and just wait for the proposed hospital admission and subsequent surgeries or I start the fight for recovery right now. The latter of these options seems the better to me as, in truth, whilst I may be admitted to hospital next week or next month it could just as easily be 6 months or more away as so many factors are involved in this.
LOL the fact that I don’t seem to have much longer than 6 months according to what I am told seems not to be much of a factor in it all. So that is what I am going to do. Start the fight back to recovery now on the grounds that any improvement is better than none.
So this week sees the start of my positive action to beat my health problems. Truth is I should have done this years ago and the deeper truth i that I have done this many times over the past few years.
Living alone has so many benefits for me but I am not blind to the draw backs that also come with it. A lack of accountability is one of them, a lock of motivation is another.
With a family or a partner you have someone on tap who can be there for you when you need them. Someone to spur you on and encourage and motivate you. In truth I do not have that person and in truth I have yet to find anyone reliable enough to provide that support for me.
Many have claimed they will be there and yet have fallen by the wayside. I have hear all sorts of wonderful promises and yet they are all just empty words.
This is not sour grapes talking nor is it my having a pop at anyone. In truth why shouldn’t they have fallen by the wayside? Folk have their own lives and families and I accept that.
The plain simple truth is that I am, on a day to day basis, pretty much alone in this and I need to face that reality and incorporate it into my approach to things.
And incorporating that into my approach is essential if my approach is to be realistic. I will falter and at times I will fail but those times are not important – what is important is how i respond to them and how I pick myself up and carry on. My depression and mental illnesses will no doubt be a factor in all this but I have to be strong.
What is equally important is that I start on a sure footing and so that is what this week is all about for me. So here are the steps I am taking…
Some months back I broke the mask on my CPAP machine and that has meant it hasn’t been functioning properly. Additionally, due to nightmares, about 2 months ago I got all caught up in the air hose in my sleep and pulled the machine onto the floor, rendering the humidifier part inactive. I have been in contact with the suppliers of the CPAP machine they have reprogrammed the humidifier part, increased the pressure and are sending me a new mask. This means that I will get more oxygen into my system thus increasing my energy levels.
I have, thanks to the kindness of a dear friend, ordered a new book entitled, “Carbs & Cals & Protein and Fat” which will aid me in meal planning. The dietitian who is part of the team I saw Thursday showed me it and it really is an excellent and easy to use book.
I have been measured up for a compression stocking for my swollen leg.
I am working on a new meal plan which whilst increases the amount of times I eat, (I tend to only eat once a day and sometimes once every two or three days at the moment) will increase my metabolism and provide me with healthier food.
I have, thanks to another dear friend, gotten access to an exercise bike and a ‘step’ which I can use and my son is arranging transport to bring them round to my house so I can make them a regular feature in my exercise plan.
I am designing a new timetable which will not only include the new meal plan (taking breaks to eat more regularly but also affording me more structure to my day.
I am going to, incorporate within my timetable a lot more – getting out of the house time – and hopefully a better sleep pattern having preset bed-times and waking times and trying to stick to them. The increased exercise and more defined structures to my day should aid in this.
I am going take TJ my dog out for a walk every morning and every evening and I am delighted to be able to say I did both of those today and not just short little walks either! I actually managed long walks.
Here is the area I shall be walking around. I am walking around the outskirts of it. It may not seem much to some but when you are as morbidly obese as I am and suffer from the health conditions I suffer from it really is quite taxing. These photos were taken this morning when TJ and I went for a walk.
Just how successful I will be at this I am not sure but I do know that I am going to give it my best shot.
Earlier I made the statement that, “The plain simple truth is that I am, on a day to day basis, pretty much alone in this and I need to face that reality and incorporate it into my approach to things.”
I want to make it very clear here that I am talking about the fact that I am physically alone most of the time and that I am not discounting the verbal and prayer support that I have already received.
My new church, were very good and prayed with me on Sunday over this health scare and I am very grateful to them for that and the fact that some of the folk there have said they will continue to hold me in prayer. If you have a faith and would like to do that same I would very much appreciate it.
Prayer is such an important thing in life and I recognize that fact. I might be alone on a daily basis and physically and yes indeed this does make it tougher. BUT we are not just physical beings, we are also spiritual beings and I know that my Savour is also with me daily.
As a Christian it is sometimes a simple thing to dismiss the threat of death – 1 Corinth 15:55 “”Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?” (NIV) with the assurance of where we are going through Christ. But being a Christian is not only about eternity and what comes after life on this earth. It is also what we do whilst on this earth and I am convinced that He has a plan for me and that plan includes the here and now.
There comes in life sometimes things that make you sit up and take notice. Things that challenge your hope and faith even. Sometimes they sneak up on you and other times they are kind of expected but even then they can knock you for six.
Today was just one such day when this happened.
The day started well with my journey up country to my hospital treatment being really enjoyable. Instead of my being one of 14- 16 patients crammed in a hospital transport minibus I was the only one.
As can be seen from this photo (that I snapped en-route) it was a glorious day and being the only patient travelling meant I got to sit up front and talk with Jimmy the driver.
Jimmy is a typical Irishman and fascinating conversationalist and I really enjoyed his company.
These visits are a regular monthly visit and I go to take part in a clinical trial and for weight management. I have struggled with morbid obesity for years now and the effect that it already has on my existing heart conditions has always been a huge concern.
The clinical trial, or at least my part in it finished today and I get the full results of it in a couple of weeks but we have already decided that I will (subject to anything major showing up in the final results) continue with the treatment which will now change so that it can be self administered.
Worryingly my LDL levels were elevated which I have to keep a check on but even more concerning my PSA levels (Prostrate Specific Antigen) levels are very high. Apparently these are the levels which indicate the possibility of prostate cancer.
Now I was told not to worry too much about these at this time as more tests were done today as part of the clinical trial which ended today and that will give us a truer and more up to date reading. (Yeah right telling a paranoid schizophrenic not to worry is like telling an injured haemophiliac not to bleed). But I shall do my best not to focus on it too much.
Thankfully, but not really thankfully at all, I was then given other stuff to worry about by the other team members I saw.
It seems the problem with my heart condition and my weight is now very concerning and they want me to consider going into hospital for treatment for six weeks and then having surgery or surgeries at the end of it. Being seriously sick and morbidly obese makes the normal avenues of fighting weight gain so very difficult and removes limits your options somewhat. So part of the treatment is to address my weight and to get me at last healthy enough for the surgery or surgeries that have been needed for a while now.)
The ‘it is entirely your choice but if you don’t you have to accept the seriousness of your heart condition and the situation and that you could be dead within 6 months’ was just a little disconcerting. As was the sincerity and seriousness of the discussion and facial expressions during said discussion.
Now I have to be honest here. Part of me is extremely worried and kind of scared by all this.
But the greater part of me is at peace over it.
As a rule, since this s primarily a mental health blog, I tend to keep matters concerning my faith pretty much low key on here but sometimes things are so serious that you just have to be fully open and who you are.
I am a Christian and I have faith in Christ and in my heavenly Father and from that the assurance that is provided. To borrow the words of Paul from Philippians 1:21 “For me to live is Christ and to die is gain.”
I am – despite the appearances you may gain from my online candor and openness – a very private person. So the thought of being stuck in hospital, in a ward full of people, for 6 weeks is almost as unsettling the whole surgery thing. I hate hospitals and have a morbid fear of them, surgery and dentists.
At this time the only decision I had to make today was whether I would be willing to be put onto a list in readiness for this hospitalization and treatment and subsequent surgery/surgeries. Not actually to commit to anything other than being put on that list and so this I have consented to do.
We are, I am convinced, spiritual beings in as much as their is a spiritual aspect to all life and especially to us as humans. I therefore have the power of prayer on my side and to be perfectly candid – seeing as over two years ago I was told my heart could give way at anytime and I am still here – I do have some confidence in my ability to beat this thing. And yes I am aware of the seriousness of the situation and no I am not being guilty of post hoc ergo propter hoc here.
I am scared and I am worried. Not about where I will go or even what comes after the here for I am at peace over that. But how I get there or rather how I stop being here, what happens to those I will leave behind, and how to be all I can be and fight this thing in the mean time does worry and scare me somewhat.
Some days ago now I wrote a piece called, “I don’t wear my underpants on the outside” in which I was saying that we need to afford ourselves the right and the freedom to be human and weak and imperfect.
This piece comes so clearly to my mind right about now and something else has been going through my mind all day too. We, I, am human not superhuman.
Many moons back, one of my Kids – Trevor, (who possibly knows more than any of my kids what I am going through with my weight problems and heart problems since he too has had to face similar things) introduced me to a group called ‘Five for Fighting’ and one of their songs – Superman – has been going through my mind ever since I wrote that piece and especially ever since my hospital visit earlier today.
So I leave you will that song and I hope you really enjoy it. I am, we are human and we, I, have every right to be human with all the weakness, imperfectness and vulnerability that comes with it.
I am determined to fight this and in the mean time to accept that I am not superhuman but to do so with the sure knowledge that no matter how human, how weak, how imperfect, how vulnerable I may be. I do not fight this alone.
Somethings are desperately uncomfortable to talk about aren’t they?
Like traumas supposedly buried in our pasts, or when you are tragically hurt by someone, or a lie you are forced to live because other’s just won’t understand.
I think Paranoia, Guilt and Insecurity can be some of the things that we find hard to talk about, or at least I do. But I am at the moment in a terrible slump – amidst the nothingness as I put it – and so now is possibly a good time to talk about these things.
Paranoia. Yes I suffer from paranoia. Really bad paranoia at times and no I don’t often talk about it.
Why don’t I talk about it? Well there are numerous reasons really. Some you might understand even agree with and some you might think are just weird. And hey ho that is ok. We are all entitled to our own opinions.
One reason is that I don’t want people walking on eggshells around me. I want to be treated for the me I am mostly not the freaked out weird me that happens every now and then. And before my inbox is flooded with folk challenging me or reprimanding me for the “freaked out” and “weird” labels above, I understand how wrong and unhealthy they are but I also know how very real those self-applied labels are to me at times.
Another reason is that I don’t want to feed into anyone else’s insecurities of paranoia. Trust me it can happen.
Thirdly I don’t want other to use my paranoia or mental health as an excuse to justify or excuse their bad behaviour and yes that can happen a lot as well.
The last reason, (or at least the last one I can think of at this time) is that as a Christian I am always concerned about seemingly being a bad witness. A fear which is often fed into by well-meaning but extremely harmful Christians who ask such questions as “do you think it could be demon-possession?” or “is there something wrong with your faith do you think?”
And if anyone is out there thinking yeah that is how I always thought of it, let me share the words of Matthew 4:24 from the KJV with you…
“And his (Jesus) fame went throughout all Syria: and they brought unto him all sick people that were taken with divers diseases and torments, and those which were possessed with devils, and those which were lunatick, and those that had the palsy; and he healed them.”
In the above passage there are 6 different types of illnesses here and a distinct difference is made between ‘demon possession’ and the others including ‘lunatic’ which is to say ‘moonstruck’ or as we would say nowadays – those who have mental illness. (Thayers also suggests that this could also mean the epileptic although it state this is dubious)
But no matter what reason I have for my seldom discussing my paranoia, the fact is that it is a very real and frequent part of my mental health and thus my life.
And paranoia is not a stand alone condition in as much as it never just stops at the paranoia. It creates further damage and damage that seeps into so many other aspects of your life.
And it often undermines and fractures what little stability you have.
Insecurity is one of the spin-offs of paranoia.
It can be cancerous in it’s effects and can damage and harm your perceptions and understandings and even more than that it can cause behaviours and responses which can so seriously and detrimentally impact your relationships.
Anyone who has, despite their best efforts, reacted badly as a result of a severe bout of paranoia will know the intense and extremely disturbing sensation of being left naked, judged and vulnerable as a result of that reaction and the fear of how those who have witnessed it are now going to treat you.
Which brings me to the last of this trinity of torment that of guilt.
Guilt. Along with that insecurity – that naked vulnerability and fear I spoke about above comes the guilt. Guilt which can plague you and eat away at you.
Guilt in and of itself is not a bad thing. It’s function is to motivate change. It’s unpleasantness is designed to cause us to address, repair or right any wrong that we may have done. And having done so that guilt no longer serves any positive purpose and thus should be got rid of.
But what if your mind will not let go of it? What if that paranoia, that insecurity, continue to fuel that guilt?
I have written about how harmful guilt can be in my post entitled Guilt-Edged Bonds and it really is something that I and I know many folk who suffer from paranoia struggle with.
When I do something wrong I want to make amends for it. To right that wrong. To face the consequences if you will. It is a big thing for me and I am sure I am not alone in this. I think it is all wrapped up in a deep desire to not allow my illnesses to have that much control or impact on my relationships coupled with an equally deep desire to not be treated ‘differently’ as a result of those illnesses.
So there you have it. A trinity of torments that so many of us can so easily go through.
In the slump, the nothingness that I wrote of the other day, this is the next phase it seems – the torments.
There are, for me personally, fewer times when I sense potential harm (other than of course when the suicidal thoughts and tendencies try to take over) as greatly as when the nothingness comes.
The nothingness (as I call it) is a barren wasteland devoid of emotions and feelings, energy and motivation. It is an emptiness.
It is a land where all the colour of life is suddenly bleached away and it is a land I can somehow sometimes fall into without warning.
It is also a land I fell into Sunday evening and which I seem to have remained in ever since.
In truth I had a fairly good weekend. Saturday I spent some time working around the house, blogging and reading and felt perfectly fine.
Sunday I went to church and thoroughly enjoyed the worship there. Afterwards the friend I was with did a little shopping with her daughter and I accompanied them.
This of course gave me an opportunity to generally make fun, crack jokes and be slightly mischievous – as is often my way – (it is one of the ways in which I cope) and we had a good time.
Sunday afternoon and early evening was also spent with them (and the rest of their family). Plus some old friends from the church I used to attend also came over and again it was an enjoyable time.
Sadly, as can sometimes happen, there was one statement (which was made in total innocence) which launched my paranoia into apoplexy (figuratively speaking that is) but even then I thought and felt like I was having a good time.
Coming home I still felt fine and indeed, despite the fact that I was so incredibly tired, I read some emails, caught up on some blogs and then suddenly just sat looking at my screen as everything seemed to have drained from me.
It was the nothingness. This colourless, grey, barren, wasteland. No feelings, no emotions, just an emptiness. A void.
And that nothingness has remained ever since. Well almost remained.
For the mind, or at least my mind, doesn’t like nothingness. It can’t cope with it. Has to fill it and it chooses to fill it with unsafe or harmful thoughts.
Will I respond to these thoughts? I seriously doubt it (although certainly I have the means to do so). But no. What I need to do is to just survive this latest barrenness this latest slump.
I have suffered with my mental health for many years now and in all that time I have had ups and downs?
Don’t we all? Isn’t that just part of life?
Well yeah it is and having mental health issues doesn’t make you exempt from that. Actually if anything it makes you more prone to that.
Having mental health issues for a long time can do one something else aswell however.
It can give you experience, experience to know when something just isn’t right. You see the signs and you recognize them for what they are. Things are starting to fall apart and you need to act.
Signs like finding letters you thought you had already read and hey who knows perhaps you have and just forgot to file them? Signs like forgetting where you put things? When you last did something? Why you came into the room you are standing in?
Signs like the voices getting louder, more insistent, more poignant.
Signs like that over-whelming compulsion to withdraw into a shell. Inside a shell where I can hide myself, protect myself, and yes sadly even hurt myself.
But then am I not coping? I can type. Yeah, ok, it is taken hours where usually it takes minutes, but am I not still typing? Still making sense?
I am leaving taps running only to then notice the sound of the sink overflowing but hey at least I remembered to fill the sink in order to wash?
Episodes of lucidity amidst hours of numbness and confusion replace episodes of numbness and confusion amidst hours of lucidity. But hey, aren’t they still just episodes?
Pictures take on a whole new depth and meaning. Speak louder communicate clearer, impact deeper.
This picture draws me in, it appeals to me, calls to me even. I see peace. I see strength. I see resilience. But I also see death and storms and deep sadness all around that strong, peaceful, resilient tree.
The first picture up above I delight in and yet with deep sadness (if that even makes sense) because it is how I am feeling. How I am realizing things are right now.
I am beginning to ramble I think – yeah another of those signs. So I am going to close with one last picture. It is one that I found on a blog called “Ownerless Mind” I know no the origin of the picture and mention the blog purely in order to respect the fact that I got the picture from there.
As a Christian, I cannot and do not make any claim to agree with that blogs philosophy nor do I have any links with the belief system normally associated with the subject in the picture. It is simply an incredibly beautiful and inspirational picture and one that speaks deeply to me.
In this post I have opened up a little about how I am at this moment. Where I am at. What I am experiencing. I honestly have tried very hard to be real and yet not real pessimistic.
As a child I would put a shell to my ear and believe I could hear the sea. Yeah of course I now know I wasn’t ever really hearing the sea. But my father told me I was so I believed I was.
Today I don’t want a shell in order to hear the sea my father once told me I could hear
Today I need to resist hiding within a shell and instead – leaving the shell be – I need to understand. To understand the world. To understand what is happening to me. To understand me. To hear the world instead of that sea of voices and most of all to hear my Father. My heavenly Father.
And even if I can’t hear Him. I know He still hears me.
Today, as part of the Passions Profile Challenge, I thought I would look at the whole subject of my family.
The picture to the right is one taken many years back of my siblings and I.
Yes they are matching pj’s (my mom made them) and trust me I have done you all a favour by putting up the black and white version since those particular pj’s were made of a bright orange striped material. (And they wonder why I have mental health issues? lol)
When writing my original Passions Profile I wanted to be honest about the thing which I feel passionate about and include them regardless of whether that passion came from a good place or a bad place or how easy or difficult it would be to explore that passion.
When it comes to my family, I am grateful that it is nowadays mainly a good place that this comes from whilst being mindful that this hasn’t always been the case.
I should perhaps first explain that I have two families really. ONe the one hand I have my biological family. The family I was born into and grew up with and on the other hand I have my adopted family, a family I believe God put together in order to help us all grow and to heal.
For this particular section of the Passions Profile Challenge I am going to be focusing in the main on my biological family for no other reason than this is a mental health related blog and since my mental illness has been with me for as long as I can remember it without doubt impacted my relationship with my family and without doubt had a knock-on effect for the rest of my life.
But again I really don’t think I am alone in this. I wonder how many of you had or have relationships which also suffered or still do suffer at the hands of your mental health or people’s reactions to it?
Growing up as I did, in a time when mental illness had even more stigma attached to it than it does today and where that stigma also very much spilled over onto the siblings and especially the parents of any child with mental illness I hid my mental illness as much as possible.
Asking siblings if “they heard those voices too” only to be looked at strangely coupled with further ‘sympathetic’ and yet ‘oh so concerned’ looks when I self-harmed, did something reckless, or tried to commit suicide, as a child soon taught me that sharing my problems was not an option. Add to this the media presentation of mental illness at the time and the seemingly regular stories of people being ‘institutionalized’ as a result of their mental illness and you get the picture.
But such was the environment and society’s approach to mental illness within southern england and for a child of a ‘respectable family’ in the 60′s.
Looking back and with the benefit of hindsight and a far better understanding of how my mental health effected both me and my relationships, I can see how it directly impacted those relationships, my decision-making processes and indeed my behaviour.
MY father was Royal Navy and a chief petty officer to boot and was, as I said in my post the death of…, an anachronism.
He was a fine man and a dutiful husband and father. But one of the saddest realities of my life is that he never truly knew me nor I him. This being as a direct result of..
a) my mental health,
b) his strict upbringing and his raising of us in a similar way, and
c) my fear and paranoia and subsequent inability to communicate what was going on inside my head.
My father is dead now, and he never knew (as I never got to telling him) the full extent of my mental illness and there is an important truth to be understood in this.
Given the strict nature of my father, and given the fact that he was kept ignorant of my mental illness it is little wonder that he saw my behaviour as being poor, unruly even rebellious and thus responded accordingly. He can I think, in part, be forgiven this, can’t he?
BUT when you are that child, even the child hiding the mental illness, you are extremely unlikely to understand or even forgive said responses and it will without doubt have a very real knock on effect in your life and in your relationships with the rest of your ‘family’.
This morning I looked up the definition of the noun ‘family’ and saw the following result…
fam·i·ly/ˈfam(ə)lē/
Noun:
A group consisting of parents and children living together in a household.
I have to tell you that this definition is, to me, one of the most limited, empty and sad definitions I have seen for a long time. And yet I recognize that my reaction to it does in many ways speak more of me than it does of the definition itself.
Is ‘family’ only applicable to those living in one household? If an older sibling moves out do they cease to be part of the family?
But even more than that, where is the mention of; love, of support, of caring which should be present?
As a child my mental health without any doubt corrupted my perception and thus the accessibility of that love, that support, that caring. I t kept me in so many ways, whilst others might dispute this, apart from my family even though we were that “ group consisting of parents and children living together in a household.“
Some time back now I wrote to my mother, whom I now have an excellent relationship with, and tried to ask about her understanding, her perception of my childhood. I had decided it was time to be more open with my mother and my siblings about my mental health. In her response she mentioned several decisions I had made which hurt her or which she disagreed with and I can understand this.
What was extremely interesting however was the fact that most of those decisions (in fact all but one) I made as direct result of, or in direct response to, my mental illness. That same mental illness I had in many ways kept hidden from her for so long.
I don’t think I had before this seen such stark and finite examples of how my mental illness or perhaps more importantly my trying to conceal it, had damaged my relationships.
The sad part is that the same is true of my relationships with my siblings and even more sadly, whereas I have a much improved relationship with my mother now, those relationships with my siblings is still extremely damaged. I cannot begin to express how much this saddens me.
This of course has a knock on effect with some of my nephews and nieces, great nephews and great nieces. Which also saddens me greatly.
So yes when writing my Passions Profile my family on there as it is something I am very passionate about and I hope and pray that one day the damage that has been done can be repaired.
I mentioned before that I am blessed to have two families. My biological family and my adopted family. I love them both equally and I am so very blessed that in respect of my adopted family we have benefitted from many of the hurts experienced as a result of my mental illness and the lessons that I have learned with my biological family.
As a blogger who is totally is ‘out there’ and ‘extremely open’ about my identity and my mental illness I understand fully those who blog about their own mental health difficulties but so anonymously. I really do but I have to tell you that my personal advice, given my experiences thus far, is that if you have a family and are hiding your mental illness from them it might be worth sharing it with them and allowing them to be the source of the support, caring, and love that you need.
And since this challenge is not only about listing my passions but also exploring them, I leave you with that thought but will respond accordingly.
I am therefore going off now to write once more to my siblings in the hope of working towards repairing that damage I mentioned earlier.
Today my mind is thinking about impressions and images. About relationships and understandings, or the lack of them or the wrong understandings. Misunderstandings if you will.
About how we see each other.
If you are looking for a good, light-hearted film which will make you laugh whilst also high-lighting some very real social issues then “Inside I’m Dancing” (Also latterly known as, or entitled in the USA I think as ‘Rory O’Shea Was Here’) is one that i would very much recommend.
I got it some years ago now and am more than happy it forms a part of my DVD collection.
But the real reason I like it so much, apart from the entire storyline, excellent humor and great fun factor, is that it I find it to be inspiring.
Set in Dublin here in the country I have grown to love and call home – Ireland – and focusing mainly on the lives and friendship of two lads who are disabled and the way they impact and challenge each other’s lives, it challenges me also.
My own disabilities are not so obvious but certainly they are there. Some are physical and some mental and certainly they – especially the mental ones – which I try to hide as best I can sometimes get the better of me and become very visible and noticeable at times.
It is, in my experience, these times which often leave a lasting impression and which can seriously affect and even change our relationships with people isn’t it? Trust me, even in a loving church who are aware that you have mental health difficulties, when those difficulties start showing themselves you might as well turned up to church naked.
Because it can feel like that can’t it? When your all of a sudden the poor mental health you have ben trying to keep at bay or at very least keep controlled, becomes so very evident.
You can feel like you suddenly you have become naked and vulnerable and exposed. Either when it happens or, if you have disconnected during it, immediately afterwards when you become aware of it. How people react to it, how they let it affect their relationship with you can so seriously add to those feeling can’t it?
The thing is that my poor mental health and how it affects me are a part of me and I freely accept that BUT they are not all of me nor are they even the biggest part of me.
Even during those times, those times when my poor mental health and resultant struggles and difficulties and behaviour do appear to be the biggest part of me, I am still me and I am still there somewhere behind the chaos and confusion or the blankness or the darkness that you first see.
And do you know what?
Somewhere deep down inside is the real me, the free me, the healed me. And do you know what? He is happy, he is carefree and he is able to be naked, to dance around naked and without a care in the world.
So to all those folk who have witnessed my bad times, and who mainly remember the chaos or the confusion or the blankness or the darkness which sometimes smothers or imprisons me. Just remember this.
“Um. Hello. Hello.” The voice on the telephone sounded somehow urgent. “Is there anyone there?”
“Yes I am here.” Came the cool, calm, and collected response from the attendant. “How can I help you?”
“Oh. Good.” the caller replied. “Is that The Cube? The most secure mental asylum in the country?”
“Yes it is.” the attendant responded. “How can we help you?”
“This is very important.” The caller advised him. “I need you to go to cell 13 and then come back and tell me what you see.”
“I am sorry?” The mystified attendant replied. “You want me to what?”
“Trust me there’s no time to explain.” The caller insisted urgently. “You have to go to cell 13 and then come back and tell me what you see.”
Totally surprised by the demand and somewhat alarmed by the caller’s insistence and the urgency in the caller’s tone the attendant quickly laid the telephone handset on the desk and rushed off to do as he was told.
Many moments later and many doors unlocked and relocked then unlocked and relocked once again, the now somewhat panicky and out of breath attendant picked up the telephone handset.
“I, I, I don’t understand it.” Stuttered the breathless attendant. “It, it’s impossible but Cell 13 is completely empty and the cell door has been left wide open.”
“Oh good.” Came the now calm and reassured voice of the caller. “That means I have escaped.”
Ok so it is an old joke and one that will no doubt evoke different reactions in different readers.
Some, who have heard it or a version of it before, may simply groan and say, “that old chestnut” or something along those lines.
Others, who perhaps have not heard it before or even those who have, may find the talk of mental asylums and even the whole premise of the joke disturbing perhaps even offensive. I assure you I did not intend for it to be.
Some of course, might find it amusing.
Yet others, and certainly I would be prone to this kind of response, might not only experience one of the aforementioned reactions but then also go on to analyze it further.
The caller is calling ‘the cube’ – a place which both he (or she) refered to, and which the attendant confirmed, as being, “the most secure mental asylum in the country.”
The caller is obviously calling from somewhere else other than ‘the cube’. We know this as a result of the need to confirm that they had actually got through to someone in ‘the cube’.
Furthermore the caller, from their final response of “Oh good. That means I have escaped.”, must have been the occupant of Cell 13 and since they were calling from somewhere else other than ‘the cube’ surely they should have already known they had escaped.
Ah but that’s the part that I can relate to so well. Even in the face of the obvious there is an inability or perhaps an unwillingness to believe.
No matter what your reaction to the old joke maybe and certainly I do understand all of the reactions I listed above isn’t there some truth in the joke? You may be repelled by the circumstances in the joke or even the inference of the joke but does that remove or negate the truth contained within?
I have mental health problems and like the caller in the joke I have real trouble accepting or believing the obvious sometimes. What is more, whilst the joke may present a more extreme situation than thankfully a lot of us experience, I am fairly certain that I am not alone in having difficulties accepting or believing the obvious…
That I really can be loved.
That I am worth loving.
That I can still contribute something to society despite all my medical and psychological flaws, difficulties, and/or conditions.
That I am able to achieve despite all the negative arguments from all the neigh-sayers that are so keen to warn against trying.
The fact of the matter is that I am convinced that if we take a little time to step back and look objectively at our lives, even in the midst of all our mental or physical health challenges, there are victories that we have already won. It is these victories, I believe, that are the nuts and bolts or the rivets and studs that hold our armour together against future attacks and which can give us the motivation and the confidence to go on and to attempt and subsequently to achieve more things.
Recognizing and acknowledging those victories is therefore important and essential.
I am of course not recommending that we ignore all advice which tells us to be cautious or to take it easy or to exercise wisdom in what we attempt. Without doubt some of that advice is both wise and beneficial but working out where it is coming from, how credible it is and indeed which advice we should or shouldn’t listen to can certainly help us.
An excellent example of this – in my own situation – is in respect of my poor, all too absent memory and the echoing advice that I have received to simply ‘let it go’ and ‘not to try to recover’ for those memories not currently available to me.
“Your mind has probably forgotten them or suppressed them for a reason” has been the suggestion made by several people including psychiatrists. “Perhaps it is better therefore to just ‘let it go’ and ‘not to try to recover’ those memories.
I refuse to live that way and I likewise I refuse to be defeated by this. Those memories are important to me if i am going to retrace and rebuild and to understand my mental health and its effects on me. Likewise, being able to retain future memories is also very important to me.
So in response to this, the other day I started a new blog on which I am going to record past events in my life as and when they come to me and today I managed to write out one such event.
Will this potentially place me in a position where I have to face my own demons? Yes I have no doubt it will but you know what? I have faced them before and survived to tell the tale. How’s that for recognizing and using those past victories!
Was it a good memory? Well yes actually it was amusing to rethink it and remember it even if it did then lead onto somewhat darker thoughts.
“Without illness would we truly appreciate good health?” is a saying that comes to mind and which I have often said in the past. Those dark thoughts were present certainly but were put into context by the victory that I felt I had achieved in the process.
It has been a good day today and I am extremely thankful. In respect of my health I am still just as fatigued as before and I still have this darn flu. But it hasn’t beaten me or debilitated me. I managed to redesign this appearance of this blog, to a much more appealing design I think. I managed to write some more to the book. I managed to update some websites. I managed to re-face past events and to do so without crashing into a more depressive state.
I am incredibly tired, now but just as thankful and I am tired.
Tomorrow is another day and another chance to claim more ground in my journey towards wellness!
I wonder if that is a term that you ever consider, or if not that exact term whether you ever consider that kind of behaviour?
Do you see it in others? Do you see it on yourself? Are you able to recognize it in others much quicker or far easier than you recognize it in yourself?
Are you ever guilty of self-destructive behaviour? Is it something you only seem to recognize in hindsight?
I found this t-shirt over on zazzle.co.uk and do you know what? I truly think all of my clothes need to be fitted with a self-destruct button. Heck it would be a lot quicker and much more humane than some of the slower more painful and protracted methods I seem to employ in order to partially self-destruct.
Do you ever feel yourself slipping into a depressive episode and yet fail to do anything about it? Perhaps it is that you are already too far gone to care or to lethargic or depressed to be able to get motivated?
Do you ever see yourself approaching a manic episode and again do nothing about it. Perhaps the mania has already started to take hold and it is a forgone conclusion.
As a child I think I had a Scalextric™ set. I say I think I do as my memory of my childhood is pretty sparse but if I didn’t I am sure either my older or younger brother did and even if they and I didn’t I do know that my son Matthew had one and possibly a Total Control Racing™ car set.
They are great fun – cars whizzing around a plastic track at high speeds. I remember Matthew having a Rover police car with flashing lights and siren sounds. Hm I wonder if I actually bought it for him or just as an excuse to give me something to play with? Nah I am sure it was for him (mainly lol).
The thing is that there was a level of certain predictability with both of those racing car sets. That predictability being that if your car was going too fast when you hit a chicane, a crossover, or a turning it would inevitably fly off the track.
And here’s thew strange thing about it. So many of us (and I very much include myself in this) even thought we are fully aware of that inevitability often failed to slow down in readiness!
It was as if either we just got too caught up in the race and the determination to beat the person we were racing or we simply defied the odds and thought that ‘this time’ we could get away with it.
Of course we almost never did ‘get away with it’. Not that that taught us anything, (well not me at least).
But the sad thing is that I have to confess that in so many ways that Scalextric™ Track and even more sadly my approach to it, is very much like my mental and even my physical health and the way I approach it.
For a couple of weeks now I have been battling with this flu and seem unable to shift it. I have felt so very tired and fatigued. My CFIDS is kicking my butt once again and on top of all that I have been experiencing dizzy spells.
Additionally I have noticed that my mental health has been getting progressively worse – just like it does immediately before I enter into an episode and yet I am still pushing myself and doing too much.
I don’t know what it is about me that makes me do this? I do know that I dislike being sick and inactive for any length of time – which given my health is something that I can’t avoid. And perhaps this has something to do with it.
But the truth is that I know that when it comes to my mental health – I am approaching a chicane, a crossover, or a turning and I am failing to slow down.
Again I am fully aware fo the inevitability of approaching this too fast and yet again I am doing nothing about it.
Am I the only one who does this? Or is it something common within those of us who do suffer from poor mental health?
To be perfectly honest I just don’t know and in fact to be perfectly honest I am not sure just what I could do about it.
This evening I went to make a coffee and once again got hit by a sudden unexpected dizzy spell. I had not exerted myself at all, I hadn’t just stood up, I can find no logical obvious reason for it but bang there it was.
I had been sat relaxing and watching some television and fancied a drink and so got up to go make one. I went into kitchen and filled the kettle and put it on to boil and was then stood perfectly calmly watching television in the kitchen when bang it hit me.
I grabbed at the counters in my kitchen in order to steady myself and remained there for a little while. Then grabbing for one of my kitchen chairs I sat down for a bit and then after a little while felt ok again so made that drink. I then carefully made my way to my study and checked my blood sugars ( I am diabetic) and they were ok. Not great but ok and certainly not anywhere bad enough to cause such a spell.
I have decided that I am, going to go to bed tonight (well this morning since it is now 1 am) and have a lay in tomorrow and try to pace myself tomorrow. Not that I did a great deal of strenuous activity today, having spent most of the day in my study working at the computer.
What will happen in respect of the impending episode I am just not sure. When it will actually hit me full-force and with how much force I again do not know.
But what is even more concerning is that I don’t know how to stop it or to prepare myself for it.
“So your days were bright and your nights were dark where they Kev?” I hear you asking. “And you thought that so unusual you would write about it?” Some of you might be wondering if I am going into another episode? But it is ok I am not really going into another episode as far as I can tell – not that I always get warnings of them coming on.
Actually when I say “bright days and dark nights” I am not talking about physical light (or the absence of it) of at all but about emotional and mental light or brightness.
Sadly it seems to be a feature of my mental health that my days in general tend to be better than my nights. I am speaking about those times outside of any major episodes in which case everything seems to go to haywire of course.
This week has been a great week for me in terms of days. Despite my still having this darn flu which just won’t seem to go away and leave me alone! I spent a huge amount of it on Skype chatting with my family in the States and that is so important and such a blessing to me.
Family is, as I say, so important to me and so getting to spend time chatting and catching up and having bible studies together means so much to me and I find really beneficial to my mental health. Of course living in a completely different country to my family makes it difficult but not impossible thanks to the internet.
Additionally some of the items I have been waiting to be delivered actually came this week and came very quickly which is another blessing.NOt being very mobile myself means I do a great deal of shopping online and additionally I live in a small town in the south of Ireland and we don’t have the most varied selection of shops here.
Another very real blessing was that two dear friends of mine (who have not been very well for such a long time) were well enough to come visit and we went out for a meal together. Again this is so important to me and I really have been so very worried about them lately.
I was also, if I am honest, a little worried that I had upset them somehow. Paranoia does that to you doesn’t it? When folk stop talking or visiting for a while your mind can start putting forth all sorts of scenarios and reasons why – even when you have already been told the reason why.
So my days, as I said, have been bright and I have even been able to start writing again which I am tremendously pleased about as it demonstrates a real improvement in my memory and focus.
But the nights are a different thing altogether.
Perhaps it is because there are less things to distract my mind at night or possibly, actually quite probably, the fact that at night you are meant to sleep and I find sleep so very difficult most of the time. Other people are of course sleeping at that time and so there are less folk available with whom to have conversations and in some ways that seems to add to the situation for me.
Even when I am able to sleep, which is not very often sadly, sleep comes in dribs and drabs broken by nightmares and the such, which doesn’t help with the old energy levels and can of course have a tragic effect on my days.
Nighttime is also the playground of my imagination and of my paranoia and of my fears.
Long since gone, it seems, are the days of childhood when there were imaginary monsters living under my bed.
For now, in adulthood, they have moved from there and taken up residency in my head instead. In there they are ever more present and ever more powerful and they find confidence and presence in the dark.
And yet even in the dark times there is hope. I just need to hold onto that hope and I know it.
For what is darkness except for the absence of light? So into the darkness a little light must fall. Isn’t that the hope that so many of us who experience depression hold onto? The goal towards which we often strive? That in our darkest hours we will find that glimmer of hope, that small candle flame of reason, beckoning us towards the light and release and freedom?
Perhaps I am approaching another episode? Certainly I am physically so very tired – this flu has and is doing a number on me that is for sure. Certainly there is often a direct link between our physical health and our mental health it seems and indeed between those and our spiritual health.
Time will no doubt tell, in respect of any impending episode. But as I look out my study window I see beautiful sunshine and I am able to put aside these thoughts of the dark at least until that sunshine calls it a day.
One that is perhaps less used nowadays than it once was perhaps. And indeed they are funny things aren’t they? Memories I mean. Some good, some bad, and often they are things that are not deliberately made until perhaps something tragic looms on the horizon and in readiness for a forthcoming loss we deliberately ‘make memories’ to help us through that loss.
Of course some memories are perfectly mundane and ordinary whilst others seem to be almost magical, holding the ability to inspire laughter or happiness or perhaps sadness and even fear within us.
This painting for example, is one which I painted in memory of some sadder, more troubled, happenings in my life.
Ironically I can’t for the life of me remember what happened to it. But I do remember that I painted it and that I did so some time ago when I was teaching art and in order to demonstrate that style and how different styles can be used to different effects. Some to heighten impact some to lessen it.
See how fragile memory can be? I remember painting it. I even remember why. But I can’t remember when and I can’t remember what happened to it.
But memories are so very important aren’t they? Memory itself is so very important.
Think about it for a moment or two if you will. It serves so many different functions in our lives even though we often take it for granted until we begin to lose it.
They are building bricks…
Aren’t our very relationships built on memories? We wake up in the morning and generally speaking automatically know the person we woke up next to. Why? because we remember them from the last time we saw them and from times before that. We remember, how much they mean to us, how special they are. Indeed isn’t how special that person is built on the memories that we have of them and of experiences shared with them?
They are comforters…
When we are down, or low, or alone, or struggling, how many of us think (remember) of when times were better, or of people who are so very special to us? Drawing encouragement, strength, comfort from those times and those people in the belief that things will get better once again?
They are teachers…
How many times during the course of our lifetime do we come across something that we haven’t done for a long time and yet we remember having done them before and from that memory we know how to do it again? Or even something new but similar to something which we did before and the memory of something similar teaches us how to adapt.
Or perhaps it is completely new to us but we remember seeing our parents or grandparents doing it and so the memory of seeing them do it teaches us how to do it?
They are confidence givers…
“Ok. I know can do this because I have done it before!” Is not an unfamiliar sentiment to many of us I would suggest. It is that memory that is giving us the confidence that we need?
Let’s go back to that ‘waking up next to someone’ isn’t the familiarity that we have as a result of our memory of them, even extremely recent memories, the very thing that put us at ease and which gives us confidence?
They are identity givers…
So very much of who we are today as individuals comes from the experiences we had in the past and as a direct result of the memories that we have of those experiences. Consider, if you will, folk who do suffer from Alzheimer’s extreme Amnesia. Often they are so very disoriented even to the point of becoming combative and so often because of that lack of identity in themselves or an inability to identify those people around them.
But what happens when it starts to go?
As wonderful and useful and indeed I would suggest essential memory is for us and as much as it does, as we have already seen, give us we have to ask ourselves what happens when it starts to go or indeed if it begins to get corrupted or contorted?
That can be so devastating and scary can’t it?
Anyone who has an elderly relative who suffers from dementia or Alzheimer’s will know of the often tragic effect that this can have on a person and indeed on their loved ones and those relationship which we spoke of earlier.
But memory loss or memory difficulties are not exclusive to the elderly or to dementia and Alzheimer sufferers. It can be experienced t any age and as a result of many different circumstances or conditions, just as not all elderly people struggle with memory problems.
Actually, it seems that poor mental health and indeed mental illness and memory difficulties often go hand in hand and this can put extreme pressure on us.
I cannot begin to describe some of the immediate difficulties that I personally have experienced as a result of my memory problems.
Forgetting to take medication and all the resultant effects of this.
Forgetting appointments with doctors and psychiatrists and then being made to wait ages for another one.
Leaving cookers and deep fat fryers on, although thankfully I have yet to burn my house down.
Typing text messages to friends either of my own volition or in response to messages they have sent me and then forgetting to hit ‘send’ and then spending hours worrying because they (of course) didn’t respond to the message I thought I had sent them but hadn’t.
Forgetting to the lock front door etc.
Going into rooms and forgetting why I went in there in the first place.
Of course sometimes the results can be quite comical. One morning I was sat at my computer typing out a blog and suddenly realized I had forgotten to get dressed that morning.
Now there’s a mental image none of you needed!
Thankfully the blind on my study window was down or it could have been even more embarrassing than it already was.
But of course whilst there can be humorous aspects to memory loss or difficulties remembering things it can also have extremely debilitating effects.
The resultant lack of confidence can be so difficult to live with. Constantly being embarrassed bout looking stupid when you don’t remember the ends of the sentence you were speaking. Or when people ask you questions, the answers to which you know you know but just can’t for the life of you remember. Constantly getting up in the middle of the night to make sure things are turned off when they already were or to check doors you locked only minutes before.
Coping with memory loss…
Of course there are things that we can do to aid us in this struggle.
Reminder notes pinned to doors and cupboards, fridges and medicine cabinets.
Check lists of things to confirm before going to bed.
Setting routines and keeping to them – creating repetitions can be a great way of dealing with this.
Putting reminder alarms on our phones and computers.
Admitting the need to and accepting help from folk with live with and whom we trust.
Having our Folic Acid levels checked! I recently learned that mine were desperately low and that this really affects our memory and focus and as a result I now take Folic Acid tablets and it certainly has helped.
Of course most of these things deal with immediate or short-term memory difficulties. But one of the things that I personally struggle with is the loss of longer-term memories.
Longer-term memory loss…
I have mentioned this before in my posts. I remember very little of my childhood and indeed so very much of my life seems to be a blank when I try to remember it.
I cannot begin to tell you how sad I get when I look at photos and can’t remember them ever being taken or what was happening when they were taken and it can be so soul-destroying when you look at a photograph with you in it and it is like looking at someone else’s photograph. Someone else’s memory.
Some time back now, my therapist – this was back in the days when I had a therapist – suggested a technique of indirect memory recollection. I m fairly certain that was not the proper name for it and indeed I can’t remember if I was even told the name for it. But basically instead of trying to directly remember specific memories you just remember casual things and indirectly build your memories from there. Chain linking from the initial thought until you build up a comprehensive picture.
So for example. remembering your favourite candy as a child could lead to why it was your favourite candy, when you first came across it, who you shared it with, special memories linked or associated to it.
One of my favourite past times just recently is reading other blogger’s blogs and one of my favourite blogs to read (I am sure she won’t mind me sharing this) is The Journey of a girl with many faces. It is a blog which is a life-journal in which Carla remembers some of her past experiences. It really is an excellent blog and I have to be honest I have over the past few days now often thought that perhaps I should write one similar in the hope that by doing so it would indirectly bring back more memories for me.
The purpose of this particular blog is to allow me a vehicle through which I can not only work out my own mental health and the struggles I face with it but hopefully also help others with their own struggles. Also it is intended as a vehicle through which folk who are interested in mental health relate issues can see the kind of impact poor mental health can have on a person.
I have to tell you. Of all the impacts that my poor mental health has on my life. The struggles that I have with my memory and focus and especially the relative loss of huge chunks of my past is th most difficult to deal with.
Just lately I have been thinking about patterns and cycles and actually I have been thinking a lot about blogging and journaling too.
As an avid blogger the whole subject of blogs and journals interest me and because of the way my mind works I am also fascinated by patterns etc.
I don’t think you have to be around the whole mental health arena very long before you run into such words as ‘patterns’ and ‘cycles’. Although admittedly how frequently you do so can in many ways be dependant upon which particular mental illness your experience is related to. Especially when it comes to ‘cycling’.
In respect of bipolar disorder terms such as cycling, rapid cycling, or even manic cycles, are quite common place as a result of the nature of the illness. Indeed the ‘cycles’ themselves in this illness relate to the patterns of symptom variance experienced within a recognized time-frame.
Rapid cycling in respect of bipolar disorder for example, is widely recognized as being a patter of four or more episode of mania or depression within one year. I personally am not comfortable with that definition but that is irrelevant.
Of course words such as ‘patterns’ and ‘cycles’ are not exclusive to mental health or bipolar disorder and indeed a common place within our everyday language because patterns and cycles exist in our everyday lives regardless of mental illness.
Likewise patterns and cycles which are not so clearly defined can be present within the lives of a person with mental illness and can, if not observed and responded to, cause serious hinderance or harm to that person’s well-being.
One such area where this is potentially very significant is in respect of medication.
Many years back, long before I became physically ill and could no longer work I was involved in full-time Christian ministry within the social care sector. This work called into direct contact with several different client-groups including folk who had mental-health related needs.
Of course, for reasons I probably don’t have to go into at this point, I was keeping my own personal struggles with poor mental health very much under wraps in those days and indeed was not under the care of a doctor for it or taking any medication.
This often brought me into conflict as time and time again I would be put in situation where I would have to encourage even cajole clients to take their medication, emphasising how important it was when all the time I wasn’t taking any myself.
The truth is that this conflict was very hard for me to live with. But the fear that I would no longer be accepted as credible or trustworthy by my colleagues within my own organisation and indeed within other linked organisations once my own mental illness became known, was just too great to take the risk.
But the more I worked alongside those clients with mental-health related difficulties and who were so poor it seemed at taking their meds – and especially, it has to be said, those clients suffering with schizophrenia – the more I started noticing a pattern common to so many of them.
When they were taking their medication properly most, if not all, of the symptoms of their illness disappeared or became negligible. Hardly surprising considering that is the purpose of the medication in the first place.
But for the patient, the client who was taking that medication there would develop an unhealthy mindset as follows.
“I take medication because of my voices or because of my symptoms, but I no longer have those symptoms so I no longer need to take my medication.”
And of course the inevitable would happen once they had stopped taking their medication for a few days and thus they would within weeks be back at their doctor explaining how they had thought that they had gotten better but how their symptoms were now back and so they needed to go back on meds again.
For a number of patients this became a repetitive pattern and one that was extremely dangerous. Especially considering that very often it can take a while for a medication to start working again once it had been stopped for any length of time.
One of the difficulties is, I believe, that many of us have grown up in a responsive culture when it come to medication. Taking it only when we see a tangible sign of a need for it and seeing medication as something that we take in order to cure rather than to manage an illness or condition.
For me personally my own circumstances have changed since those days. Years back, my physical health deteriorated so badly and at the same time a couple of extremely difficult life events took place and all this culminated in my not only having a complete physical and mental breakdown but my being told that I would, as a result primarily of my physical health, but also due to my mental health, never work again.
It was in many ways a devastating blow. But to be honest with you, at that time I was more focused on trying to survive what was happening to me than I was about earning a living.
I had already lost the ability to work and subsequently had given up my work and with it I had lost the reason (and actually the ability) to hide my own mental health difficulties.
Of course thankfully I am much better now than I was when my whole life crashed around me. I am blessed by having many good days along with the lets just say harder days. But even so, and even with my own knowledge and experience of the potential patterns and pitfalls when it comes poor medication management I still sadly struggle to take my medication properly. Partly as a result of memory issues, partly as a result of focusing issues, partly as a result of the fact that I am quite rebellious and I have to say partly because I am still convinced that I can manage better with it.
Noticing our behaviors and resultant patterns can be a very useful tool in the management of our illnesses and I think for me that is one of the best things about journaling or indeed keeping a journaling aspect to blogs.
It affords us the ability – if we regularly review our own journals and blogs – to look for or to notice patterns. That is also, I am convinced, one of the benefits of sharing blogs, because sometimes we can see in other people’s stuff the things that we fail to notice in our own and because of that even the most mundane or ordinary of blog posts can serve a purpose.
See that is one of the problems with being in bed so much.
Your mind starts to wander and to play on its own.
Additionally, since it is stuck inside a head which is totally dedicated to doing an impersonation of a loud-speaker at a heavy metal concert – constantly and uncontrollably throbbing - it won’t really accommodate any real reading, praying or even any serious movie watching.
Likewise, trying to divert the boredom with back to back television is like trying to self-medicate using jellybeans. Mildly amusing but really not effective and totally not good for you.
And so the mind starts wandering and where it chooses to roam is as uncontrollable as the throbbing it seems.
And where does it wander in the wee small hours of the night-filled morning? To the places long since avoided, the memories many moons buried and the questions constantly unanswered.
The place where the dead find life only through the almost obsessive confusion and sorrow that pumps through its veins until it reaches that heart of remorse and regret.
A glance at the date floating in the bottom corner of the laptop screen and with it comes a momentary comfort with the realization that perhaps some of it does at least make sense.
It was around this time of year all those years ago when it happened, When he died, And with him the final breath of a relationship that had been terminally ill for years before that.
He was an anachronism. In so many ways, or more rather in so many ways within the altered perception my mind permitted, an anachronism. A man born in the wrong century with principles, histories, hurts, wounds, duties, methodologies and responsibilities in many ways incongruous to both the time and to the world in which I was trapped.
He was an enigma. Not by his own mystery or secrecy although certainly that played its part, but by my inability. An inability to understand. To connect. To perceive. To relate. To receive. To reach and to be reached, To love and to be loved.
He was a hero. A hero to his wife – my mother. To his children – my siblings, To his children’s friends – my friends. To his son. Yes even to his son. His middle son.
Yes I can say it. Even to me he was a hero – a superhero – right off of the comic book pages of a small boy’s admiration for his father. or at least his need to admire his father.
And yet even in his super-hero status did that super-hero costume often seem so stained, so battered, so worn, so grubby and so ill-fitting up against the light of his son’s own understanding twisted by the super villain of a child’s mental illness.
He was a survivor. A survivor not only of a world war but of a private war. A family based, tormented, unfair and unjust war that it seemed had raged somewhere in his childhood and from which the battle sounds carried across the years even into his adulthood and to his children’s childhoods and from which the shrapnel still claimed its victims. Despite his efforts.
He was a father. Yes to each of us he was a father. Even to me in my acute, heightened, altered perception, and misunderstood experience of him he was a father. My father. A father in every dutiful, responsible, Victorian, English sense of the word.
Strong. Resolute. Unyielding. Principled, Harsh and Unreachable in my understanding but in equal measure to how caring and kind and patient and fun and loving he was in my siblings understanding of him.
But then he died, one painfully un-memorable day around this time all those years ago and he did not die alone. No he did not die alone. For along with him died…
… A chance to understand. To understand him better now that my understanding of my own mental health and it’s effects on me and how I perceived and even still perceive things, has grown.
… a chance to heal. A chance to heal some of the wounds that I carried and till do carry as a result of my mental health, his past and indeed our inability to understand both in each other. Yes a chance to heal, perhaps even a chance to heal some of the wounds that I inflicted on him.
Was he a great man? A good man? A kind man? A good father? A kind father? Who am I to say?
In the spirit of honesty and objectivity I can say that is how he is seen by my siblings and my mother and certainly in that alone there is weight of testimony.
Additionally I can say that I have little to no doubt that my own mental health robbed me of a good experience and understanding of him then as much as his death has robbed me of the experience of him now.
But then mental illness can do that can’t it? Just as it can take a grown man out of the familiarity of boredom and sickness and transport him into a small lost child in the small hours of the night-filled morning.
Do I mourn the passing of this man, this anachronism, this enigma, this hero., this survivor. this father? Yes absolutely I do.
Despite the misunderstandings, the arguments, the pain, the rejection, and the wounds which we inflicted on each other. Even amidst all of the hurt and sadness and sorrow and darkness those things sewed there was still, I believe, love.
Do I mourn the loss of my father through his death? Yes I do. But do you know what? In many ways even more than that I mourn the relationship that, as a result of my mental health and our inability to understand it, he never got to have with the son I was meant to be and that I never got to have with the father that he was.
Mental illness does many things to many people, but one of the saddest things to me is the damage that it can do to relationships.
If you are reading this and have poor mental-health. Or if you are someone who loves and cares for someone with poor mental-health. If your relationships, or some of them, are struggling. Then I urge you to do all you can to break through it all and to heal and repair those relationships.
Is healing possible for me? For my father? For our relationship? Well even though my earthly father is no longer with me I know that God is with me.
God. The most perfect and loving and holy Father of all fathers, and who is my father’s Father before me. So even in the depths of my sadness and my mental illness I trust in Him and lay it all down to Him.
Can mental illness can take a grown man out of the familiarity of boredom and sickness and transport him into a small lost child in the small hours of the night-filled morning. Yes absolutely it can.
But do you know what? I don’t care. Because not only can it not keep me from the love of my heavenly Father but actually it helps me lose my macho-ness, my self-reliance, my pride and my inhibitions and actually it helps me to see myself fit so much easier into His arms.
Have you ever considered reality? I mean really considered it?
I think it was Einstein (forgive me, it has been quite a while since I did the whole edumacation thing) who said..
“Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one.”
Smart man that Einstein fellow, and he wasn’t alone in considering the whole question of reality, was he?
I could probably fill most of this post with a whole list of folk who have shaped our understanding of reality or at least considered it in some way and/or made some well-known comment about it.
Einstein, Nietzche, Freud, Poe, Luther King Jr, Thomas Acquinas, Jesus Christ, Charlie Brown (sorry had to throw that one in).
Additionally I am sure I am not alone in being able to list a handful of films which focus on either reality or our perception of it. The Matrix. Inception. Dreamscape. The Thriteenth Floor. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Vanilla Sky. Existenz, to name but a few and I am sure you could name others.
Indeed the whole possibility of there being two realities with the reality that we know not being the actual or true reality and yet, since it is the reality that we know, having a validity in its own right is a question that film makers, community leaders, psychiatrists, mathematicians, philosophers and leaders of faith have all pondered over.
Indeed, greater minds than mine, such as those I mentioned above and indeed Aristotle, Plato, Wittgenstein, Russell, Frege, etc have all considered it and indeed offered their own understanding of it. Some I can agree with and some I find I am unable to agree with. But either way it is a very pertinent and interesting subject.
So what happens when the reality that you have experienced or thought you experienced in the past you simply misunderstood or if your perception of reality at that time was somehow distorted? Isn’t this a prime example of two realities – the true reality and your perceived reality?
Let’s be totally honest here. Don’t the realities of our past (both perceived and actual) also potentially influence or shape the way we perceive the realities of the present and even our futures?
Now for many of us our realities get challenged as we go through life. Any contradictions between true and perceived realities are therefore addressed as we get older – through our experience base increasing or simply as a result of our knowledge and wisdom increasing or maturing.
Life itself is after all a series of experiences, challenges and lessons. Therefore as we go through the ‘school of life’ (and incidentally if there is such a thing as a ‘school of life’ I am convinced it is meant to be a community college) those contradictions between our perceived realities and our actual realities should come under constant challenging and review and thus often, along with our thinking or perceptions hopefully be adjusted?
However isn’t it one of the aspects of some mental illnesses that our perceptions can continue to be questionable? Isn’t it true that sometimes with mental illnesses what we think to be happening isn’t always really happening at all in the same way that we perceive it?
LIkewise, what about where one or more of those realities that we were facing was so abhorrent, so intense, and so traumatic that we ourselves couldn’t face it and so subconsciously created or shaped or distorted a new alternative reality?
Remember the Einstein observation? “Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a persistent one.”
Arguably since we know that we can have distorted or alternative realities, these distorted or alternative realities are ‘merely an illusion’ and equally arguably, since they can and do often continue to affect how we see life, the world, others, and especially ourselves they can be ‘persistent’.
So shouldn’t those distorted or alterative realities be dealt with? And if so, how and when should we deal with them?
There are, I think, those who would argue that we shouldn’t deal with them at all. Some who would argue that ‘the past’ is ‘the past’ and we should leave it in ‘the past’ and simply move on.
Trust me I understand the appeal of this approach. But the fact of the matter is that for some of us our ‘pasts’ are not simply our ‘pasts’ as they are still affecting our ‘presents’ and will, I believe, continue to do so until they are properly addressed.
And this is, I think, particularly relevant to me at the moment.
consider this if you will. If we were to represent our life as a continuous sheet of fabric all woven together from the past right up to the present.
It has an integrity in and of itself and theoretically, the integrity of the present fabric would remain true providing it was strong enough to hold in its own right and providing that any impurities, mistakes or distortions of the present AND the past were not so great or so influential that they have an adverse affect on the present.
For when any impurity or mistake or distortion in the past has that much influence or importance it can without doubt affect the integrity of the present and the fabric starts to weaken an even break and loose strands can start to appear.
I am, to some degree, convinced that this is where I am in my life at the moment and indeed where I have been for a while now. There are without doubt strands appearing in the fabric of my current reality and I have to ask myself what I should do about them? Do I simply tuck them back in and ignore them or do I tug on them, so to speak?
My psychiatrist, or more accurately I should say one of them, has put forward the suggestion that I consider counseling and even hypnosis in order to release suppressed memories and thus allow me the opportunity to redress situations of or in my past that might be influencing me still.
Am I going to have hypnosis? Not a chance! But do I want to free up or release suppressed memories and reface some of the realities of my past that I may have misunderstood or even distorted or refused to face at the time? Yes I think so although I do have some fears or reservations concerning this.
One such fear or reservation is that If I do indeed tug at those strands of my current reality what happens if it completely unravels and all I am left with is a gaping great void or worse the realities that I couldn’t face way back when?
Am I older and wiser, much more stronger now? Well I agree that I am older at least lol, as for being stronger, well that is debatable. certainly in terms of my mental health it does seem that in some ways it is getting worse rather than better.
But there is another, separate, different consideration here also. The consideration of my faith,
As a Christian I fully believe in the work of the Holy Spirit and within that belief is the understanding that the Holy Spirit will identify certain aspects of my life that Christ wishes me to deal with, change, surrender, put right, receive healing over etc.
Indeed when I accepted Christ into my life I invited the Holy Spirit into my life and I gave my life to Christ. And that is the thing. I gave ‘my life’ to Christ for Him to use in accordance with God’s will. That meant and means my whole life, every aspect of my life. Not just the easy parts but every part, even the difficult or painful parts and that has to include my now, my future and also my past.
The truth is that I love God. I love Christ and I trust in the work of the Holy Spirit and were I to be sure that this need and in many ways desire to address the past is indeed the work of the Holy Spirit I would have much more confidence.
The fact remains however that I do not have full confidence that it is the work of the Holy Spirit. And I say that not to doubt or disrespect God’s Holy Spirit but simply in recognition of where my mental health has me at the moment. struggling to have total confidence in very much lately, as a result not in a doubt in anything else other than my own understanding and my own ability to perceive things properly.
But there is I believe one life-line, one sure foundation, in all of this. And that is the promise of God’s love and in the conviction I have of God’s father-heart, in His sovereign power, and in His perfect knowledge.
Despite how confused I am, Despite how little I believe in me, despite what little confidence I may have in my own understanding and my own abilities I know that I can trust in Christ and that if I lay this whole thing down at His feet He will be faithful.
I am really struggling with this whole facing the buried memories – dealing with the hurts of the past thing and yet I know I have to face it. As I write this I have a song going through my head and my heart and so I thought I might share it with you now. Not only because it is beautiful and inspirational and well worth listening too but because I too really need to hear it at this moment.
I discovered this artist a long time ago and I discovered this song at the same time and it is a song that really speaks to my heart. I really hope you enjoy it.
Yep today is the day of the three L’s Lists, Lumps and Lethargy. I am sure I could find more words beginning with L which would be appropriate but to be honest I really can’t be honest. Did I mention Lethargy? LOL
In many ways I should be pleased or in a positive frame of mind today. Things are generally going well. Nothing too outlandish happening, positive improvements with relationships, no obvious signs of mania, and I have actually dealt with some of the important day-to-day stuff that needed to be dealt with.
And yet I am not in a positive frame of mind at all. Actually I am incredibly low.
Lists.
There are things I want to achieve. Items that I have listed that I either need to attend to or really just want to attend to. Objectives set and not yet realized.
I wanted to start writing properly again, and although I know that my focus, memory and comprehension are still not up to par I am at least hopeful that I can struggle through and hey – who knows – perhaps by struggling through it will work like some sort of mental work out and lead to better mental health. Certainly that is possible.
I want to start singing again. It is a long time since I sang properly and I miss it. Perhaps record a few tracks but then the recording quality on my computer isn’t good enough and the personal recorder/dictaphone that I was going to by last time I had some spare cash slipped my mind.
I wanted to record some new poetry but can’t really do that yet (for the same reason as above).
Sort out the spare room
Work more on the family ancestry and on friend’s family ancestry
Yep there are definitely things that I have listed and yet have not done them.
Lumps
Hidradenitis suppurativa is a nasty little condition that mainly affects the areas with apocrine sweat glands and subaceous glands. Basically that means the warmer places on the body. Inner thighs, groin, buttocks, under the arms, breasts (including manboobs) and which can manifest in chronic abscesses, epidermoid cysts, sebaceous cysts, pilonidal cyst or multilocalised infections.
Actually it hasn’t been too bad of late but seems to be back with a vengeance and that really drags me down as it means extra cleaning, laundry and most of all discomfort.
The lump that is my right leg also seems to be depressing me somewhat lately. It is uncomfortable to say the least and the only treatment that can be offered now are these full length, very tight, very heavy flat weave compression stockings that cost about 150 each and whilst the hospital are willing to pay for them I have enough trouble getting normal socks on. Heaven only knows how much extra trouble I am going to have with these and additionally I am not sure I can even have them what with this current worsening in my Hidradenitis suppurativa.
And then there is the good old breast lump which has returned again. I think this is now the fourth or firth time and whilst part of me is able to accept that it is only an infection I can’t help wondering why it always returns and why always in the same place – directly under the nipple and at the end of the day it is darned uncomfortable – both painful and inflamed.
But I think over and above all of the other stuff, the one thing that drags me down quicker than any other thing is this darned lethargy.
I am just so fatigued and so tired and so weak.
Even getting out of bed is virtually too much for me at the moment and staying out of bed for any length of time really isn’t a runner. I would say that I probably spent 21 – 22 hours of the past 24 hours in my bed and I really don’t like that. I like to be fairly active – if not physically then mentally at least – and yet I just don’t seem able to stay up very much at all lately.
I do my best to push through it, mindful that some of it could possibly be down to the depression but I know my body and I have been dealing with this for many a year now and I know that it goes beyond the depression. Although I do readily accept that the lengthy discussion I had with the psychiatrist at the hospital has got my mind fixating on something and that is dragging me down also. Perhaps I will blog about that tomorrow if I am able. Who knows.
Still desperate to remain positive, I am aware that this is no doubt yet another phase in the repetitive cycle that I and hundreds of thousands of other poor mental health sufferers go through, and that a) many go through far worse than I do and b) at the end of the day it will hopefully only last for a short amount of time before changing for a while.
But I have to admit it really is kicking my butt this time and really dragging me down.
Somewhere on the fabric of reality, (please don’t ask me where as I have yet to find a Sat-Nav/GSM system with adequate directions on it) there is, I think, a cat flap installed.
It is a very large cat-flap, large enough to take a large human being like myself, but then the fabric of reality is extremely large also, so whilst it isn’t really a cat-flap it is I would suggest proportionally comparative to a cat-flap/cat-door and human flap sounds somewhat sinister don’t you think.
It’s purpose? Well to afford instant access between reality and delusion without the need of a responsible adult, or so it would seem.
Of course, having a responsible adult present is always, well nearly always, a bonus. But hey there are after all times when a responsible adult cannot be located and anyway, responsible adults always seem quite keen on keeping one away from entering into delusion whereas the cat-flap seems specifically installed to accommodate just such a journey.
On a more positive note the cat-flap also fulfills the function of allowing one to instantly, or at least easily, access reality if one finds oneself on the delusion side of the fabric of reality – which of course would probably be called the fabric of delusion since it is that side that the observer is on and after all reality is in the eye of the beholder. (or is that just beauty? Heck what do I know about beauty? I have to look at myself in the mirror.).
As for me, well I find myself so incredibly tired and extremely ‘foggy’ today.
fog·gy/ˈfôgē/
Adjective:
Full of or accompanied by fog.
Unable to think clearly; confused.
Term used by blogger desperately seeking an appropriate descriptive word but not really able to concentrate enough to locate one within the alphabet soup which is his mind at the moment.
I awoke very early this morning and spent a little time watching ‘skins’ series 3 – for some reason I am really getting into that at the moment – and then managed to have some time with my kids before going back to bed.
Not that I actually remember going back to bed. But the evidence of my having woken up in it some several hours later during the mid afternoon was enough to convince me that this is what had happened.
The only problem is that I am not totally convinced that my mind also woke up.
Yes it appears to be functioning but with little real clarity and indeed with this apparent leaning towards the ludicrous all coupled with a script that appears to be some sort of satirical play based on paranoia with a multifaceted cast of voices and thoughts as anti-supporting actors.
My body, on the other hand, which whilst being the largest presence in this whole comedy of errors but not by any stretch of the imagination the lead role, seems to be incredibly lethargic, tired, sluggish and constantly hungry.
I have it, appears; fallen out of bed, landed on the cold hard floor and ended up bumping my head. No wait I remember that all happened some 50 years ago with the bed being the womb, the cold hard floor being life and the bump on the head leading to the confused, dazed and mentally disturbed state of mind being my frequent status.
And yet there are without doubt times when I am pretty lucid and indeed when my mind and my body both seem to function fairly well, not wonderfully well you understand, but fairly well at least. The trouble is that sometimes I find it very hard to determine just how I am doing and today is just one of those days.
Therefore, taking all this into consideration, it occurs to me that it is possible, just possible, that at some point in time earlier today I have fallen through the cat-flat that is installed on the fabric of reality/delusion. The only trouble is that I just can’t be sure.
I am therefore seeking help and offering a reward for any information leading to a proven location of said cat-flap in order that I might find it and enter it thereby getting to the other side when I need to.
Many thanks.
Oh by the way, if you do find it could you also let me know what side of the fabric of reality and delusion you are on so that I might work out which side I am actually on.
Yes I know that having a ‘happy place’ can put one in mind of those stupid characterizations in movies where the ‘weird acting’ person is encouraged to go to his or her happy place when he or she gets agitated.
Yes those kinds of characterizations really annoy me too as, in my humble opinion, they ridicule and disrespect those of us who suffer with poor mental health and for whom having a ‘happy place’ is such an essential coping technique.
And are they really so ‘weird’ or unusual? When we get sad do we not long for happier times, think back to better times. Doesn’t a child sat in classroom bored out of his or her mind or stressed over something happening in his or her life sometimes simply slip into day dreams of other, better things?
And what about books and films and even music and the escapism that they afford?
I wonder if any of you have a ‘happy place’? A place where you can mentally or physically withdraw to in order to find some sort of refuge? I know that I do. Actually I have two or three.
Now sometimes, as in the case of one of my happy places, there can be a kind of dichotomous, almost conflicting, reality attached to them.
I am not sure why but I seem to be a water person. I like rivers and oceans and especially bridges over rivers and streams. Because of this, when I am particularly low or stressed I will often go to the local river and find solace and reassurance there.
But for some reason or other, that is also the self-same place I will often go when I am suffering from suicidal tendencies and I am not sure if it is a last ditched attempt to fight the urges or in preparation for if I give into the urges. And thus the whole concept of one of my happy places potentially also being the place of my end concerns and confuses me somewhat.
I also, or so it seems, have different happy places for different times of day. Some I will mentally go to in the day time when things get too much for me or I feel my mood crashing badly and some I will mentally go to later in the day or at night it seems.
That one, the one I usually go to late evenings or in the middle of the night is a make-believe place usually only encountered in my hopes and my dreams.
In it I shed the shackles of time and the bondage of mental illness and the hurts of the past and I run free, unstained and un-scarred in the company of brothers and sisters who are also unstained, unharmed and un-scarred.
Because of this and because this mental picture of my family is so important to me, I thought I would do something different and create a visual aid for when things are tough and I need that little extra help focusing on them and remembering to withdraw to my safe retreat.
So I painted a panoramic silhouette on my bedroom walls. A kind of story board depicting different scenes reminding me of that place in my mind where freedom and love reigns supreme.
And it really helps to remind me of this particular happy place of mine and have to say I am really loving it and finding it so very helpful.
I know that to some, the very idea of having a happy place or a safe place to withdraw to or retreat to either physically or mentally is a sign of weakness. For me personally it is essential and I am sure that the same goes for others too.
So if you suffer from poor mental health I would recommend it and whether you call it a ‘happy place’ or ‘safe place’ is irrelevant, what is important is that it helps you cope.
Folk who have been following my recent ‘Of Roses, Walls and Towers’ series will no doubt know that I have been looking at the level of isolation in my life and considering my own responsibilities in this respect as well as how my mental health effects this.
Certainly, although that series has now finished, my considerations on this subject has far from finished and actually I imagine that it will no doubt go on for a while. This morning, when I awoke from a particularly late night, it was still on my mind and along with it came the phrase “Square Peg In A Round Hole.”
‘Square Peg In Round Hole’ – an idiomatic expression for someone who just does not fit in.
So this morning I am officially announcing my Square Peg In A Round Hole status!
[Please accept my apologies but the brass-band playing the official fanfare accompanying that announcement only performs inside my head. Please use your own imagination to add that effect.]
‘A Square Peg in a Round Hole’ – someone who simply doesn’t fit in. Yes that is very much who I am. I am indeed a square peg to society’s round holes. Which I must admit amuses me somewhat given my somewhat bulbous and barrel like shape. But then again it is after all only an idiomatic expression and let’s be honest here, for me to expect society to change from being round holes into being square holes just to accommodate my rotundness is I think a little pretentious.
Likewise, it is also somewhat counter-intuitive since the expression itself indicates that I just do not fit in and so the thought of all of society changing just to accommodate or fit in with my not fitting in is, I think, a step to far.
No the plain simple fact of the matter is that I am indeed a Square Peg and I simply don’t fit into society’s round holes.
But then again I would have to ask whether my squareness as a peg is at fault here or whether the fault lies with the fact that society seeks to have perfectly round holes and for everyone to conform to this.
Does society seek to have perfectly round holes? Is that a true statement?
Actually the shape isn’t so much the issue here, is it? It is the requirement for conformity, the exacting parameters that all too often shape the expectations that are employed, that can often cause the problem.
Now don’t get me wrong, I truly believe that we have come on leaps and bounds from attitudes and approaches of years gone past but the plain simple fact is that I am still convinced that an expectation for ‘normality’ still exists and that when it comes to mental illness, well it just has not yet been fully invited to the ‘normality party’.
But Mental illness or poor mental health (depending on your preference, or experience) is indeed increasingly widespread. If you visit the Mental Health Foundation website and look up some of their statistics you will come across this statement…
“It is estimated that approximately 450 million people worldwide have a mental health problem. (World Health Organisation, 2001)” 1
Or this one..
“1 in 4 British adults experience at least one diagnosable mental health problem in any one year, and 1 in 6 experiences this at any given time.”(The Office for National Statistics Psychiatric Morbidity report, 2001) 1
‘An estimated 450 MILLION’ people worldwide and ’1 in 4 British Adults’ and let us not miss the fact that a) those figures are now 11 years out of date concerning a problem that we know is on a high rate of increase and b) there are numerous folk who suffer with poor mental health and who for one reason or another have not come forward or sought treatment for it.
In respect of America, The National Institute of Mental Health, on their website, demonstrates a steady increase in Mental Health Service Use/Treatment among U.S. Adults between the years 2004 and 2008. They list the percentage of U.S. Adults using Mental Health Services or receiving Mental Health Service Treatment in 2008 as being a staggering 13.4% 2
Again, we need to recognize that this 13.4% figure is in respect of a situation which we know is on a steady high rate of increase and is 4 years out of date. How high do you think that figure will be today? And yet still folk experiencing poor mental health find acceptance and the ability or freedom to ‘fit in’ so very hard to achieve.
Now within society – a large, somewhat nondescript and often distant entity – this is hard enough to handle if you are the one not fitting in, but when that inability or lack of freedom to fit in is closer to home, more localized, more intimate it is a much more painful and can be a much more harmful thing.
Historically speaking, the phrase ‘A Square Peg In A Round Hole’ was first published around 1873 in book called ‘Kenelm Chillingly, His Adventures and Opinions’ and written by the british writer Edward Bulwer Lynton. The dialogue in which it appeared within this book, in my opinion at least, extremely interesting…
In this part of the book the lead character (Kenelm Chillingly) whilst speaking to a farmer about his son, comments, “Does it not prove that no man, however wise, is a good judge of his own case?” and continues “Now, your son’s case is really your case —- you see it through the medium of your likings and dislikings, and insist upon forcing a square peg into a round hole, because in a round hole you, being a round peg, feel tight and comfortable. Now I call that irrational.”
The farmer responds, “I don’t see why my son has any right to fancy himself a square peg … when his father, and his grandfather, and his great-grandfather, have been round pegs; and it is agin’ nature for any creature not to take after its own kind.”
I have to admit, that one piece of dialogue brings me both pleasure and discomfort. I chuckle at the irony of it and indeed the familiarity of the scene that is set before us in it whilst at the same time I am deeply saddened by the obvious and sad inability to accept that which is ‘out of the ordinary’ not ‘what was expected’ not ‘the way the rest of us are’. And what is more I am deeply saddened by the fact that this piece of dialogue features in a book published some 139 years ago or so and yet the harmful attitudes represented within it are all too often still present today.
I am a 50-year-old man. I am the size of a small bouncy castle (and about as bouncy but hopefully not as full of hot air) and I experience extremely poor physical and mental health. Additionally I live alone in a country hundreds of miles away from my closest living biological or adopted family member (other than my son) and thousands of miles away from the majority of my adopted family members. BUT I am blessed.
My need or desire to fit in and any subsequent inability to fit in with my family is not as physically present or as obvious on a day-to-day basis as some folk have to experience.
It is still a very real need and still a very real source of pain and discomfort for me when it doesn’t happen but it is not something that I have to encounter or face as often as many others.
Additionally my adopted family – with whom I have the most contact – are very used to mental health issues and have been incredibly understanding of my poor mental health and any resultant poor or odd behavior on my part and they (like my son) have stuck with me through the most difficult of times.
I have said and done things in the past that I am incredibly sorry for and I openly accept that I often see things and sometimes behave in a way that can be off-putting and even distressing to others.
Am I a ‘Square Peg In A Round Hole’? Absolutely I am! Do I find it difficult to fit in? Absolutely I do! Does this often cause discomfort or friction? Absolutely it does! But I ask you this…
“Is the problem my inability to fit in with you, or your inability to accommodate who I am, or perhaps, just perhaps could it be a little of both?”
I have absolutely no idea where the week has gone. Actually what is even more disconcerting is the fact that I have little to no idea what I have done all week or huge chunks of it at least.
