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Reflections 2018 w49

This week I write just to keep my routine going, if one had a shell I would be in it I think.

My mind won’t focus and my body aches, I am begginning to think the pain is mind made to keep me inside, it’s worked. At least I stayed away from the bed.

Sometimes you just have to ride out the body shots and just get through, it’s group tomorrow so that means I have to go out. It should get the ball rolling again, and it should be dry, it’ll be a long walk for Spot and myself if it is I think.

Even when I don’t want to do anything, I still don’t want to not do this. One just has very little to say this week.

www.awanderthroughthemind.co.uk/reflections-2018

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Reflections 2018 w45

At what point does a task become a chore to be avoided; no matter how small the task?

One could have sworn that one had kept up with the updating of one’s website, however it appears to have been avoided for ten weeks. Just when did the avoidance set in?

I have my suspicion that it was at the second week…I’ll do it later…never to get ‘around to it’.

The task of catching up took all of ten minutes, thats a minute per cut and paste and tweak. Plus the whole process took no effort on my part, but I will avoid it if over a week is to be caught up. Procrastination is nearly always my natural choice, especially if it is connected to changing the procrastination process.

It appears to have self awareness and  a survival instinct.

But why?

One can see no benefit from it, nor a practical use, even in my distant memory the effects were negative in results. A baby will hold onto a favourite toy or blanket for comfort, getting upset if they get separated, I hold onto procrastination like that comforter – even though it brings discomfort, will I get upset if we get separated?

It makes no sense.

So one had better get to doing the cut and paste of this to the website before it comes back again.

 

www.awanderthroughthemind.co.uk/reflections-2018

Reflections 2018 week 44

Whilst being on a camping holiday alone, to try and work out a routine/pattern of living in a tent for walks next year, I faced some of my ‘daemons’.

This years camp was more flexible than before and it was to create coping mechanisms whilst camping, allowing Spot and myself to do multi-day walks next year as part of my healing, not far to start, but the aim is to increase over the year.

However one knew that there could be challenges with my anxiety and depression, so after a visit to my new psychologist, one went with a new drug to have with me as backup. But this in itself created a new problem.

Spot was with me, and my ‘deal’ with myself was to not to do a lot of running around to different places, but rather work around the tent and the sea side at camp. A chance, one hoped, to get to a mindful place and quieten my internal voices. My voices apparently did not like this idea, and my insistence of taking all my equipment that I may use, again this was to hone my ‘main kit’ for the multi-day waking trips next year, became known as clutter. Car camping allows one to take far, far too much stuff. Coupled with not knowing how kit like the sleep system would work, with the expected low temperatures, multiples of ‘just in case’ items were taken along.

Anxiety or panic attacks, depends on who you talk to, are common, also, are the feelings that are associated with them. One has been on the back of an unbroken horse as the horse does everything that it can to get you off it, and yes, the ground hurts when it succeeds. And an anxiety attack is just like being on that horses back, out of control, trying to stay on, and trying to avoid the shuddering jolt of hitting the ground.

The main difference between them is – the horse is on the inside for anxiety.

So yeah, they were fun.

But this holiday one  had something new – not an anxiety attack but more of a depression attack. Frustratingly I do not know what to call it for when I next see the psychologist, if I do not give it the correct name, they do not listen and dismiss it. Parts of what I say are cherry picked…Paranoid?

Here is something that I have said…

I go to weekly NON CLINICAL group workshops, that is workshops not connected to or regulated by my mental health psychologist, something they cannot measure,  that help to examine negative perceptions one might have to life, these have been created by a lady that is a qualified counsellor.

Gets turned to…

Attends weeks counselling sessions.

Never have they asked what qualifications she has, or what method she uses. For all they know she uses lumps of coal to suck the depression out. They heard counsellor and figured that they are off the hook for non drug treatment, even if they did not think this, it is what it feels like.

Now the attack, and how it differs from the anxiety attacks.

Think back if you can to when you first learnt to swim. Think back to feeling of drowning, the swallowing of water as you tried to breathe, the pressure on your body from the water trying to pull you under (this I know is the panic thoughts and in reality when relaxed you would float) and the hopelessness of the situation when sinking below the waters surface.

Now sit and watch the clouds drift over the distant mountains, no thoughts in your head, relaxed.

Snap!

And your drowning, calmly drowning. Swamped by the hopelessness, the utter despair, and the need to cry. It snuck upon you like a mugger in a dark alley, it chose you with no apparent reason other than you were there at that time.

As you sit in the near paralysed state, trying to work out the cause so as to reason it out, with nothing coming to mind as the catalyst, crying uncontrollably, confused, dazed and lost. You realise that it is most defiantly not an anxiety attack. There is no wild ride of a bucking horse, it’s more a calm sinking of a small boat on a still pond. There is no erratic heartbeat or breathing to get under control, no shaking or sweating, the only physical response is the crying, the uncontrollable crying. Even Spot was caught unawares of the changing mood, she is my depression barometer, usually noticing a dip before I do, changing her reactions and thus alerting myself to the approaching change.

Half an hour later and its gone; for a couple of days, but it returns twice more.

Now I did mention that I had new drugs with me for if I struggled. However the last drug I had to ‘take the edge off’ left me not giving a s@!t about anything, so I was too afraid to take them with no support network around to help me if I had a less than favourable reaction. With wind chill the temperature went sub Zero (deg celsius) not giving a damn could lead to hypothermia. And thus a battle of fear began…

Fear of not taking them and having the depression and anxiety attacks or taking them and placing Spot and myself in danger. So long as the depression did not go down the road of suicide not taking them seemed to be the safest option and was the one I took.

Now it is just a waiting game…

Are these new attacks isolated, or are they a new symptom?

I hate this game.

www.awanderthroughthemind.co.uk/reflections-2018

Reflections 2018 w37

Anxiety is all in the mind they say, but if you put your mind under too much pressure you get one hell of a headache.

Every so often one goes out of my comfort zone, this is usually connected with a day out with the children, even if one was looking forward to the days activity. I like watching fish, it relaxes me, so when we had the chance to go to Blue Planet near Cheshire Oaks I was looking forward to the tank tunnel as much as the children.

We went to Cheshire Oaks for dinner first, we would not have if we had known about the  building work, my sister has been several times but not being able to see the shops threw out her reference points, and made it feel crowded. I could not believe how noisy it was, even the road with a sparse amount of cars seemed deafening. My coping method was just working, the din fighting for my attention over the headphones. I could not leave the food place soon enough.

That was the start of the headache, it continued to grow in intensity when we timed our arrival just behind a birthday party at The Blue Planet. The dusk like conditions and warmth of the centre had me wanting to go to a corner and sleep, my natural response to   getting rid of a headache, but the volume of the party would have denied me it anyway.

I think it would be a good place to go on a school day, for me at least, as the feeling of trying to stay in front of the party would hopefully not be with the visit at that time. I could watch the stingrays for hours, there is something about the way they swim that is just mesmerising.

The kids seemed to have a good day, and I don’t know about the other two but my lad fell asleep shortly after setting off back to home. I was that knackered I even fell asleep at a reasonable time without my sleeping tablets, a rare event in itself, however I did get woken up by the now splitting headache at around 03:00hrs but was back to sleep after taking more pain killers. Even now as I write this the headache lingers on and probably will do for at least another day if I avoid everything else stressful.

It’s not just the headache, but how the body feels tight, wound up like a spring that does not get the release of pressure that causes the pain. No it’s not pleasant going outside of your anxiety comfort zone.

 

www.awanderthroughthemind.co.uk/reflections-2018

 

Reflections 2018 w30

My anxiety has been high this week, and because of it, one has ventured out less than normal.

It was to be expected once I found out I was going cold turkey from my near max dosage of medication. The extreme stoppage was at my psychologists discretion, one found out it was stopped when picking up the repeat last friday. Don’t get me wrong, it was talked about – the stopping it – I have questioned it’s effectiveness for well over 3 years, and have wanted to end it to see if the neuropathic pain is linked to a known side effect of the medication, so yes, ending it was talked about. How they have ended it seems more to prove a point than ‘care’.

I have grumble before about how I was told at the very beginning, treatment, effective treatment, was therapy, but all that seems to be given is pills. So yeh, mouse on the wheel of a cage time again.

But when I cannot go outside physically, my mind now picks a project to do, usually painting, but not this time.

This time it is new ground…

A way one thinks my poetry can be heard how I want it to be heard, but without my fat ugly mug on camera, or being in public.

Inspired by an exhibition of  students at Staffordshire University, the whole thing just clicked at a way to do it.

However, it required me to create a model “me” to do it. The concept of my “me” has already been done with the drawing/paining of the B-WELL tree. The little wooden character is my avatar if you will. But how to do the puppet.

Youtube…

Cloth puppet, wood puppet, clay puppet, foam puppet, silicone puppet, and paper mâché puppets are just the beginner materials. Hand puppet, body puppet, finger puppet, stick puppet, marionette, and the scariest one of all…

The traditional “little person” ventriloquist dummy. These always give me the heebie jeebies. Don’t know why, they just do!

Well a couple were pulled out because of the “wood” of the character, but wow, what a world of puppets out there. I now want to make several types.

But back to my original one…

I bought air dried clay, to create the ‘skull’, and plaster bandage for at least the first two coats of the face. The idea was to cut the plaster bandage, when dry, off the clay to get into the workings of the mouth. To make it simple. Then the paper mâché on top, then paint gesso, then acrylics before finishing with varnish. To reduce the amount of clay required I have done this with plastic bottles…

IMG_1927.JPG

This made it clear to me what it was I wanted to do, and it also showed me the problem I was going to have with my mouth…What type did I want to do?

The decision for that will come later…

 

www.awanderthroughthemind.co.uk/reflections-2018

I Don’t Want To Go Outside …#Poetry#Prose#Poem

I Don’t Want, To Go Outside

 

I don’t want to go,

exposed outside.

But behind this door,

remain and hide.

What is it, out there,

I fear, to face?

Nought but the monster

in my own head space.

The door is where

the line is drawn.

Even though my mind’s,

where the monster’s born.

The fears in the fog,

where the shadows will hide.

Upon gusts of the wind,

will the monster ride.

The rain its tears,

as it passes overhead.

In the suns long shadows,

it will hide instead.

The ice its skin,

as it slithers under foot.

Its cold, cold hand,

on exposed skin put.

Hear the dogs a barking,

to scare it away.

Movement in the trees

and the branches will sway.

The birds are disturbed,

take flight with a shrill.

as the frost of its breath,

in my lungs will chill.

No there’s nothing out there,

but what’s in my mind.

And my mind’s made up;

We’re not going out.

 

A § M 

18/05/18