Friends with Benefits

EFT (Emotional Freedom Techniques) or Tapping is something with a tremendous amount of power. 

It doesn't solve  anything, it doesn't cure  anything and it doesn't fix anything. But what it does do is calm down the system to allow it to make a decision and a reaction based on fact, reason and love, rather than on fear, learned patterns and the all powerful survival instinct.

When the body is in a state of anxiety, it is actually in a state of  'extreme protection' where the brain perceives a really substantial threat to your life. So when we're anxious, it's our body screaming at you "BUT I JUST WANT YOU TO STAY ALIVE!" The adrenal gland does an amazing job of powering hormones and chemicals through us to give us that super-human strength we need to lift us out of whatever terribly dangerous situation we've found ourselves in. But when we're anxious, we perceive that similar level of danger, everywhere. 

Then we go all Computery. 'What the actual flip flop is she talking about?' It's alright, I can hear you!

So, you have a lovely computer. Its's great, you love it. But unfortunately, the only way you can power it is from a battery. Are you with me? I know this is a wild concept.

So, you want to be able to use your Puter for short or long periods, as you desire/need. Of course. Who wouldn't. So, when you've finished with it, you shut it down, yes? This saves the battery (which means you can use it when you desperately need it)  it also stops naughty viruses hopping onto your computer while it's sat there taking in every bit of Her Majesty's interweb information that's being thrown at it. We all know how sluggish, exasperating and slow to start our computers are after we've given them a bit of a hammering.

Well your system is just the same. When you NEED the fight/flight response that comes from the anxiety to stay alive that alerts you to danger (without that none of us would be here now) it is there at your disposal. But, if you don't switch it off, it loses it's battery power, gets confused and sluggish by all the other information that's being thrown at it while you're not even watching. This is where the tapping comes in. 

It allows us to regulate that system. To give it a rest, to ensure that the only danger it freaks out about are actual dangers, not simply perceived ones. 

So, when you think about it, it's not really "magical", just energy regulation and brain pattern re-writing (hence 'the Brain Trainer'). It's no wonder everyone wants to learn more.

There are people out there who like to do things on their own. To study, cherry pick what's helpful and crack on with it. I expect there are very many EFT users out there who are completely self taught. There's a lot of information available to everyone, what we choose to do with it is our bag. 

But many people, like myself, have come to EFT for recovery. For real trauma, sickness, and all that bad shizz. Working with a practitioner gives you access to a resource that really genuinely is all powerful - the human brain. A second one. How often do we get chance to have two brains?! 

A good practitioner gives insight into your patterns, limiting beliefs and learned behaviours that you probably won't even be able to see because they are SO ingrained into your fabric. They have experience that is invaluable and see patterns and trends in human behaviour and reaction between different an unrelated individuals that can really, really benefit you. 

There is something truly wonderful also about being told what to do - in a loving and safe sense anyway! Now I don't mean that your practitioner will say to you "now put Skype down and go and wash my car" but they will be experienced in the wording and the practicing of the actual mechanics of the routine we go through, leaving you completely free to focus on that lovely brain of yours. The fact is, when you work with a practitioner, you will get more powerful results, quicker. The sense of peace that comes after working through a session with your second brain and pair of hands to help you carry the load, is just glorious.

Of course, money is always a factor in everything we do. Practitioners have a right to earn a decent living from what they are experts in. They wouldn't be able to help us if they didn't. The per hour rate is something that people who work for a company or a corporation can often raise an eyebrow at, but simply put, you may pay for an hour, but it takes three hours to give you that hour. All of these wonderful people are self employed, so they have accountants and taxes to pay, offices to run, records to keep, training and qualifications to keep up, advertising and marketing to do - and most people like this give an awful lot back to the community too. They also work many, many more hours than us mere mortals.

We also have this limiting belief that we don't deserve our own financial investment too. We put having a new smartphone before having a peaceful and relaxing self caring weekend away. We put an new pair of shoes (when we already have 12 like that) before the therapeutic massage that could help us to feel so much better physically. We put the new bits of tat for the living room or new hall carpet before investing in good quality natural healthy nutrition - often the 'immediate gratification over long term goals' thing overpowers us (read this book:  The Marshmallow Test). Surely we deserve better for ourselves? 

Well there's no surely about it. We do deserve better.

And don't call me Shirley.

Aaaaaargggghhhhhhhhhh!!!!

Always having a fear of diaries, this is why I hate them - but I also see their importance.

These last post were written by me, absolutely. But I can't identify with much of it anymore and it's a bit tough to rad for that very reason.

I was really, really poorly writing these things. I can't remember if I really understood at that stage just how poorly I was.

Having embarked on a mental/physical/spiritual journey over the last few months, my voice has returned and I felt that I could utilise this platform to maybe pass on a tiny grain of hope? Also to talk about my experience, and continued experiences.

I have not logged onto this page for a while. Months. Right now I feel like hiting 'delete' and starting all over again. But I know that's not the right thing to do. This is about a journey and my goodness have I been on one. I'm starting to realise too that LOTS of people I know have been on similar ones, but have never spoken about it.

Distance Travelled

This is the current view of this blog. Just so you can see changes and differences. There are about to be some big changes! But I want to record it. (She says nervously peeping through fingers - is it safe enough to be able to look backwards yet?)

The fact is, I AM working again (I have chosen not to work full time in one job as such, but I could), I AM able to do all those things I had convinced myself i could not, and I AM able to live my life peacefully, in harmony and with love.

That is one depressing read.

I now eat really well, I exercise really well, practice with my new tools regularly and simply love life.

There's so much to say. And I'm still on my journey, still learning, still uncovering layers and still loving it.

I did a little video for me EFT practitioner a week or so ago and it's gone a bit viral and opened up a whole new world for me. Wanna see it?

The Brain Trainer

So it's time to put a positive spin on things, time for a few changes and time to tell you about my journey and all the new things that have come into my life. That sounds a bit hippy, doesn't it?

Just for the record, I am not being paid by ANY member of the EFT/Mindfulness/Spiritual community or anyone else for this. These are my words and my experiences. 

Better get on! 

First job of this afternoon? Self care. I'm off to relax! 

Because I Can

I'm coming to terms, slowly, with the fact that I am still a young ish woman but I'm never going to be financially independent (not unless there's a lottery win anyway).

(Just for the record - there is no particular reason why I feel compelled to be totally financially independent. It's just one of my "things".)

I am now realising that I just can't do what other people do as a matter of course. Not for very long, anyway. I can work, of course I can - work is VERY important to me. Purpose is vital. But I can't work loooong hours and spend hours sat in traffic jams (sometimes it's just not possible to ride my bike) only to snatch a few hours in bed, then be back at it. Well I can do that, for a bit. But not for very long. It hurts my brain in a way that takes me a very, very long time to recover.

I blame Jackie magazine. I think I've blamed Jackie for things before. And I'm sure I will again.

As a young pre-teen, my grandmother worked in a news agents. This was back in the old days when papers and magazines were thrown out instead of returned. I had a ready supply of Jackie magazine old unsold issues being collected for me and I just loved them. All these grown up looking girls, doing their thing. I couldn't wait to be one of them. Of course I learned an awful lot from them which was terrific and lead me into teenage times prepared, but since then, I have never been able to get the headline "what does your bedroom say about you?" out of my head. I am constantly measuring myself by the standard of "what would someone insignificant think". I'm a very lazy perfectionist and I'm not good enough at it to be totally anally retentive about how my bedroom/outside toilet/boot of my car appears, but I'm motivated enough to mentally beat the crap out of myself for it not portraying me in the best light possible.

The other thing I unhelpfully learned from mid 80's Jackie mag is that us ladies can, and I quote, "have it all". Damned 1980's. They did so much damage.

I was obsessed with 80's female body builder Corey Everson for a long time, thinking it was my duty to be a body builder, because I could. In fact, I should be everything; because I can. Sadly lacking, however was much in the way of instruction or direction as to making any kind of decision or path for myself, so I wandered along aimlessly and as a consequence, achieved very little other than extensive life experience. I was waiting for my path to naturally open up in front of me. It didn't. Never has.

There's still an awful lot of residual pressure from the "have it all" movement. In fact, there might be even more now. We all need to be runners now too. Mercilessly pounding pavements in the dark cluching a bottle with a hole through the middle and proclaiming that we "wouldn't be able to survive without running" at 5am. Before the kids get up. Before you get them to childcare. Before you go to your super rewarding job. Before you come home and hand cook an organic healthy delicious meal. Before you go out on "date night" with your handsome and supportive husband. Before you go to bed and have a decent amount of sex. Before you read a couple of chapters of the latest high brow novel while simultaneously checking the email your postgrad degree tutor has sent you about how brilliantly you're doing in your course. Before you confirm the time to meet your 17 gorgeous best friends who love you and each other equally to go to the spa pre "girls night" on Saturday.

We have to be all of these things in order to be worthy. Well guess what?

I BLOODY CAN'T ALRIGHT.

I can't cope. I get very tired very easily, my batteries run flat quickly. I can super charge them for a bit, but that cannot last long and if I'm not very careful it does me long term damage.

I WANT to do everything, but I can't. I have to rationalise this with myself who forgets this often. I sometimes get so swept up in "doing" that I have no concept of whether or not I might be doing lasting damage. I am so capable of doing so many things, and I want to do all of them. And right now. But I flaming can't. And I hate it.

Today is one of those days where I don't feel like I'm ever going to feel like myself again. Or that I'll ever be "happy" again, or not empty, one dimensional and lost. I don't feel like I'll ever find my path again (did I ever really find it in the first place) or achieve anything worthwhile ever again. I don't feel like I'll ever contribute to society ever again. (Of course my human brain knows this to be nonsense, but my Chimp is running amok and sometimes I can't get him to calm his shit down). I simply can't realistically see any of those things happening.

I can honestly see why so many with borderline have reckless habits. If I was in that kind of crowd or environment, today I would be a drug user to hide from my own mind. Or an alcoholic. Or I'd blow a shit tonne of money on crap. Luckily I have never really been in any of those places physically, but if I was, I would. If I was a Victorian prostitute I'd be off my face on Laudenam.

Fedup.com

Black and White

One of the most common (and somewhat annoying) traits of someone with Borderline Personality Disorder (I never abbreviate it - Bipolar got the acronym first) is 'black and white thinking'. and it seeps into many aspects of my being. It's a powerful in that it allows me to achieve great things, but sadly it's to the detriment of other matters.

Credit - hdwallnpics.com

I rarely have thoughts or opinions that are 'somewhere in the middle' and frankly this frustrates me greatly. Logic tells me that there are many grey areas in these things, but I just can't see them.

People. People cause me a great deal of problems. Not in themselves, they're just generally minding their own business going about their daily shenanigans, but I overwhelmingly can only ever see people as inherently good - or inherently bad. Rarely in the middle. It's almost like an obsession - (luckily I'm dead sensible so I don't appear to be a nut job) but I meet someone in a friendly capacity, I like the cut of their jib and the things they have to say - that makes all other people disappear from my radar.

They are, frankly, a bit of an annoyance. Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. But very, very true. Has happened many times, over the years. And their fall from grace is equally as prompt and sizeable. Once someone has stepped over that (imaginary) line, they join the ranks of all the other minor annoyances. And that's if they are lucky. I'm lucky that I rarely see people as inherently bad. That's the one thing I'm grateful for.

Exhausting, huh? Yep. I have a certain amount of control these days but imagine being like that as a young person sans Mental Health toolbox? Wholly unfair.

This aspect creeps into many other areas too. For me, my home is EVERYTHING. And I do mean everything. I love to travel and do stuff and see stuff, but knowing that my home is there the second I am ready. So this means that my home is perfectly manicured, beautifully decorated and constantly flawless, doesn't it? Yeah right! Like hell it does. A few weeks ago, according to my monkey brain, the entire reason for my anxiety and spiral into depression - my living room. Completely and totally.

The fact that it was a work in progress due to impending horrendous building work, was the sole reason I was feeling agitated, anxious, empty etc. etc. The rug didn't match the curtains (an amalgamation of two rooms - terrible tragedy) and my need for fully matching scatter cushions in coordinating colours was like crack to an addict. You see when I achieve my desired effect within my living room (which is, in fact a pivotal universal point, I think you all know) then I will feel well again. I will be healthy and happy and all will be complete. Course it will.

It's just that over the last few months, I've felt that way about all of the rooms in the house. And, I felt that way about amalgamating the two rooms in preparation of the building work. Once we did that - everything would be perfect.

I bought a book over Christmas about decluttering. It is a wonderful and marvelous book that helped me greatly. It's much easier now for me to move around and be comfortable in my home now that I have gotten rid of a LOT of stuff that I didn't need. But I felt the same about that. It was the answer to all my prayers. Except it wasn't, of course. Jolly helped, but it wasn't the guiding light.

You see the whole black and white thing means that my brain can only direct it's considerable attention to one place. Hence I don't really feel like I've achieved much in my life really. Long term goals are just not something my brain can ever deal with. If I achieved a long term goal I would lose all my friends and turn into Stig of the Dump to do it. The 'all or nothing' thing is fantastic for short term, high intensity stuff, but not everything is like that.

I simply cannot do the slow-burn. I can't sip a drink, I drink it. I can't pick at a meal, I scoff it. But while I'm drinking the kitchen might catch fire and when I'm cooking that food to eat it the realisation that I have to clean up having prepared the food, will not have occurred to me. Or, I could concentrate on clearing up, only to find that my dinner has gone cold/been eaten by the dog in the meantime.

Recent minor obsessions have been:

Walking
Writing this blog
Running
Decluttering the kitchen
The back bedroom of doom
Riding my big bike
The stationery drawer
The airing cupboard
Having pink hair
Instagram posting
Needing to get a tortoise
Buying some new clothes (which I hate doing)
And some other stuff I would never admit publicly.

The Holy Grail, for me, is being able to disperse my attention across a few different things. Consistently. That, for me, is #winningatlife which I'm not, currently.

Oh well, I suppose I'd better put the kitchen back together. Don't want to. What a total nause.

Why do sick people wear pyjamas?

I work in a hospital so sick people wearing pyjamas is genuinely par for the course. They wear pyjamas all the time, go anywhere in them, outside, inside, Starbucks, the lot. It's never really made me think about why, until this morning.

I needed a shower this morning. I don't believe in showering every day (your skin makes natural oils for a very good reason) so I dragged myself up to the bathroom. When I'm 'not at my best', personal care is like climbing a big pointless hill for me. The prospect of putting make up on is, well, frankly hideous. I have to force myself to brush my teeth. Like, really force.

So I dragged my sorry backside in the shower, feeling like I'd achieved something. Normally, I could spend hours in the shower. I love it. Hate baths, adore showers. Then the terrible realisation hits home. Being in the shower gives birth to the terrible reality that I'm going to have to a) get dried, and worst of all, b) get dressed.

I have no interest in putting clothes on currently. They are purely functional items, to stop me getting arrested and/or cold. At this moment in time, selecting five or six individual items to put on my person, is a terribly overwhelming task. If you don't suffer in this way, you may not understand this, but it genuinely is, a terrible prospect. So that's where the pyjamas come in. Warm, decent, comfortable, easy to launder and zero effort involved whatsoever.

I've often thought that pyjama wearing is to do with comfort in hospital or sick beds, but there are lots of items that are just as comfortable. I thought maybe because they are easy to manouvre for proceedures etc, I think that's certainly a factor.

But I think getting dressed is more of a statement. It says - 'I feel okay', 'I am ready to participate in the world', 'I have a sufficient amount of respect for myself and I posess the energy and intention to make an effort and move forward in the world'. Pyjama wearing says 'I have bigger fish to fry than what items to put on' and to a degree I think it says 'I'm healing' or 'I'm not feeling great - putting clothes on is not something I just can do today'

Today is very much a pyjama day. And I still haven't brushed my teeth,

What's the Point?

No, seriously, what actually is the point? In anything? Life?

That's when I know I'm having a bad bout (current status)it's that despite having LOTS of things to look forward to, and I do mean lots, I just can't see the point in anything. We're all going to go the same way in the end, so what's the point.

I don't wish to alarm anyone at all here, I'm not in an 'unsafe place' or anything, but despite knowing full well that the point is to live, laugh, love, participate, enjoy and all of that; but when you're in the dark place you just don't have the courage of your convictions. Well I don't anyway.

I read an article about something related to this a little while ago. It's a milder version but there's a syndrome that has recently been named and it's running rife through all sorts of people of all ages, but particularly the slightly more youthful (although it's creeping into the older generations more and more I wouldn't mind betting). It's called 'Party Syndrome' a description coined by Alfred James who writes the Pocket Mindfulness blog.

The feeling that there is perpetually a party going on somewhere near to you but that you're not invited to. This is exacerbated by marketing executives who sell the image of new motherhood being like a Johnsons Baby commercial (yeah right) and the suave sophistication and sexual prowess you'll achieve if you only bought that new Audi (you get the 'how to drive like a cock' lessons thrown in free) and the fact that if you're not having perfect, spontaneous adventures with your gorgeous friends kite surfing off the great barrier reef at sunset wearing a vintage Armani bathing suit, then frankly, your existence is an embarrassment to the planet.

We all know it's horse shit, but it creeps into the psyche of all of us, and the emotionally fragile even more so.

Of course it's wonderful and necessary to have aspirations, dreams, but they must be yours. I like to travel, haven't done enough of it at all. But I don't like the idea of selling everything I own and travelling the world in a camper van like a wonderful couple of friends I have. I'm jealous of their freedom, I'm jealous of the views the have when they wake in the morning, the fact that their cleaning must take a maximum of 15 minutes a week, but it's not for me. I like my roots. I have to be working towards something planned and specific at all times or life really is pointless for me.

James and I are planning our next holiday away. There are so many places to chose from, but we are thinking we might go for the total opposite of glorious, wonderful Budapest (where I left a bit of my heart). Benidorm. Yes, that really is the opposite - and my god does it sound fun. I'm going to find the crappest karaoke, the corniest cabaret and the dreadfullest (clutching at straws there) drag artists.

I was watching the BBC series Benidorm a while back and one of the characters said "there's two types of people that come to Benidorm. Those who come to Benidorm and those who never go anywhere else." Isn't that wonderful. Unless you're one of those who 'never goes anywhere else'. But then, if they're genuinely happy with that, then they're winning at life more than I am currently.

I find when I'm not very well that my mind likes to hurt me just that little bit more by pointing out that I'm 'wasting my life', 'will never come to anything because of the shitty life choices you've made, which means you'll never snorkel in Armani off the Barrier Reef because you won't be able to afford it' (I don't even like snorkeling - there's fish in there you know). This ideal life that they're pushing everywhere you look, it's not healthy. It's putting too much pressure on us and we're not learning how to deal with it. We must teach out children that media is not real. Beauty is not perfection, and their ideas do not have to be the same as your ideas of what makes a valuable life.

It's mean and it's cruel and it's not fair. I find myself now able to self check with kindness and compassion, this is utterly down to Mindfulness practice, but it doesn't take away the underlying feeling. No, I don't react to those feelings any more - I can manage my chimp much better than I used to be able to, but it's tough. And tiring.

So if you ever feel like you're missing out on all this fun that everyone else is having because they all have a) more friends b) more money c) more free time and d) perfect mental health - it's a myth. We all feel like that from time to time, sadly some more than others. I know life will regain it's purpose and point soon ( I hope) but currently, it's a bit hopeless.

Ah well, at least I'm not Kanye West, eh? Every cloud and all that...

First (and hardest) Port of Call

The slippery slope is well and truly underway and you're hurtling, full force, towards a feeling that you will never be less exhausted, less desperate, less isolated and less "black" ever, ever again. You have to do something. You mentally and physically don't know what to do with yourself.

So what do you do?

Only recently has it become apparent that every A&E has an emergency mental health team dedicated to it. I bloody wish I'd known about it when I was 16. They were some of my worst times and they truly scared me. Young, naive and utterly clueless, there were some bad, bad times. I spent a few miserable nights in the Samaritans offices in Newport where I was advised to see my GP. I had no idea what about, how, why etc. etc. etc.

And that's where the GP misery started.

"How can I help you today?" The dreaded words. Ummmmm...

First, you have to explain what you don't understand yourself. The whole time trying to justify yourself AND get across the fact that that you no longer want to exist any more but at the same time the whole British "stiff upper lip" that is intrinsically embedded in our terribly British psche is playing fuck with us for being impolite and a bit embarrassed; all while telling a potential complete stranger of the darkest, terrifying parts of your mind.

Then you have to wait, mentally stripped naked and the most vulnerable you've ever felt, for the verdict.

It could go a variety of ways. And trust me, over the years, there have been some variations. Some kind, well meaning Doctors have tried to help in generally clueless ways - a few years ago I was prescribed gardening (I was suicidal at the time) as a great way of "taking my mind off things" where as in approximately 1995 while living miserably in Neath, socially isolated from everyone I knew and realising that I had made a terrible mistake in my choice of life-partner, I broke down on my GP - with hindsight suffering from severe post natal depression.

"My life's a mess, I'm miserable I'm alone, I have no one, I have no idea what I'm doing with this baby, I'm scared but I don't know what of etc. etc. etc...." (I was 18 years old at the time) crying my heart out so much so that I couldn't breathe. The GP very helpfully offered in return "So what do you want me to do about it?"

I pray to Dog no one ever has to go through that these days. But I'm not entirely sure.

I've seen some GPs who stop you within one sentence, acknowledge your mental anguish and kindly and gently direct some appropriate questions at you to give you the best help they can. Some will go waaaaaaaaaay over the allotted time for you because they see your desperation, and appreciate the situation. Who knows, maybe they've glimpsed this misery themselves?

My very good friend took herself to her GP a year or so ago. She'd recently been diagnosed with Adult ASD. The GP told her she was "too intelligent" to be autistic and that she should "just get on with it".

But I suppose mere mortals aren't immune to the unhelpful advice either. "Stop moaning and get on with it", "what have you got to be depressed about?", "what are you feeling anxious about?" all NOT HELPFUL. But that's a different blog post.

The worst part for me about being ill is having to go to a GP. It's not just because of the bad experiences, it's unpleasant trying to explain something invisible to someone and simply rely on their sense of empathy to treat you accordingly.

My GP is great and I know she will always be great. But what if she's sick that day and there's a locum? What if she's having a bad day? Unlikely, but possible.

Stories regularly find their way to me about terrible GP experiences and I feel this to be totally unacceptable. It's dangerous. I'm quite a tough old bird who knows the lie of the land, but what if the patient is sensitive, fragile, even more vulnerable and they are met with that response. Well, I bet terrible things like that have actually happened. And they mustn't ever again.

I am seeing change in the NHS treatment of MH conditions, but it's just too slow. Too little, too late.

I'd like to hear from you. What have you experienced?

Buzzfeed's 14 Favorite Apps for those suffering with Anxiety

Two years I've been well. Then BAM! depressive episode up the ying yang.

I know how these things work. Sneaky, underhanded symptoms you can only see retrospectively, gradual build up of emptiness and loss of interest in pretty much everything, then you're on the slippery slope. But you still probably don't know it. Well that's my experience anyway.

Then it hit you like the proverbial freight train. I heard once a great description of depression - 'it's like having the flu, really bad flu, but with no physical symptoms - every single day.' I think that's a great description.

I've been investigated and poked and prodded to try to treat my depression since I was sixteen. I remember feeling depressed for as long as I can remember feeling. Of course I thought everyone felt that way, as everyone does. Turns out they don't. But it took many, many terrible episodes, poor life choices, ill advised situations, shit tonnes of struggling (and more episodes) before I was diagnosed with Borderline back in about 2011  I think it was.

I have a LOT to say about MH and Borderline, and one of those things is that when I feel this way I do have a lot to say. And the drive of a brand new Maserati to say it. But as I get more well (dog willing) I can lose that focus, that acuteness and that need. It's one of the most irritating things about borderline. I already have that as a personality trait, this exacerbates it.

In a nutshell, I feel I have wisdom to impart (snort) and things to say currently, but it might dry up like a stream in a rare British dry spell. Don't judge me. Well, you can if you like - I will never know.

That's the joy of a) being human and b) having a smashing MH condition. We just don't know what's going to happen.

#endstigma