I'm a mess

I'm a mess.

There, I've said it. I really am an utter mess. Along with my house, that's an utter mess too. And my hair, and teeth. And lungs, well that's a whole post in itself. In fact every sentence contained in this initial post could possibly be a whole post in itself. Okay, maybe not my hair, unless it was one of those blogs, which its not.

I have so much I want to write about. I'm not sure where to start, but I'm determined to make a start. Connecting with you good, non-judgemental folk really helped me in the past. Being brutally honest with myself and you, helped. Just having to think enough to write helped really ... So, here goes.

It's sunny and warm out there, Spring is here for sure and I'm not ready. Its far easier to hide in the Winter; hoods up, gloves and boots, scarf around the face, head down against the wind. I feel like I'm about to be exposed. I am. People are out there mowing lawns and stuff... Normal stuff doing normal people ... Ha! Or vice-versa (a genuine mistake) I know, I know, what's normal and all that... but you know what I mean. Normal is what 90% of the street are doing on this sunny Sunday afternoon. I don't think I can even pretend normal anymore. The garden is a mess too. Fuck, this is all a bit depressing but I gotta start with the truth. Maybe not the whole of it, I would be here for days.

Lets throw a positive note in here, I have stopped smoking (cigarettes)... Okay, that's a lie. I have almost stopped smoking. I'm using nicotine patches and have cut right back to maybe two small, teeny weeny roll ups a day ... maybe three. Definitely not fifteen or twenty, as was the case. So, that's good eh. I'm teaching Geekster and Hamper G to play the piano, which has forced me back to the piano, another positive.

Hamper G (8) is begging me to take her to the park... This is my worst nightmare, maybe not my very worst, but certainly one of them. This is me about to be exposed. I only have a pair of very furry, very warm Ugg boots, I cant go out in those today! O God, I can't face it, it will be packed out with normality ... Normal families in their brand new, normal spring outfits, that they have been itching to wear ... Am I mad?

And yet, I can't say no... "How long now Mum?".. "C'mon Mum, you need some fresh air" Do I? The sweat is prickling on my nose just thinking about it. O Lord. I haven't got time to edit or mess around with this. I will be back for sure, as soon as I possibly can.

I have missed you all. I could happily sit here and write all day. I am being dragged away. Mentally, I am kicking and screaming. I hope its not too warm  out there for a jumper, at the very least. I am scared but I'm going. Exposure therapy!

Thank you for being here. I love you all.

I'm still not back

You've came here from the notification you got saying I've wrote?... well sadly its geekster but I'm here with some good news, mums on the road to recovery and will be 52 very soon :D She promises to be back soon and she says she's always thinking of you all, hamper g and stropster are also in good health and ok, she hasn't wrote in so long because she cant face how long she's left you all for and don't want to see everything she's missed but hopefully all the positive comments will bring her back :)

Four Months Later . . .

That cursor has been flashing in the top left corner for quite some time now . . . I don't know what to say because there is so much to say . . . and I don't know what not to say.

To those who have been concerned, I feel I owe individual apologies. I want to say I'm so, so sorry, but if I write names, I will surely leave out some and that would not do. I truly am sorry. It must seem like I don't appreciate the love and care . . . to just disappear without a word. I've thought often of you all, going about your lives . . . tending your flowers, gardens, chickens and sheep . . . vegetables, dogs and cats. Befriending pigeons and parrots. Caring for your addicted children, staying strong. Staying alive. Hospitals. Caring for loved ones or unloved ones. Washing their socks. Searching for a vein. Making your music, listening to music. Writing your Blogs . . . or not. Going to your favourite beach and living life, loving life. Loving and enjoying your grandchildren. Teaching your children . . . and other people's children. Sitting by mountain streams and pools, listening to the water, painting the water. Staring out to sea from the harbour or from your boat. Sailing your boat. Building tree houses. Randomly, amongst the chaos, at the strangest of times, you have all entered my mind. I'm eager to catch up with all of your lives and I will.

I wont attempt to cover events since my last post; there has been joy and heartache. My Dad's death made me realise how numbed I was by the anti-depressants. I couldn't access my feelings . . . I know Methadone and Heroin are very effective at numbing emotions but this was on another level. I came home and stopped taking the anti-depressants . . . That was one of my better ideas.

Hamper G's Dad was released from prison in May with no warning and nowhere to stay. Three months later the social housing scheme and probation worker have done nothing to help and he's still here on my floor. This is far from ideal, yet I can't see an alternative. Its complicated. It's way too much to write about, or even think about, just now . . . Suffice to say that having my own space back is number one priority at the moment  . . . number two, would be to cut down my using. I may have to start on number two! He came out of prison clean and for the most part has stayed clean. The longer he stays here the more likely it is that he'll get a habit again.

So, I feel like screaming. I'd happily take a small tent and flee for a week or so but Hamper G and Geekster need me . . . Stropster? another long and complicated story. I'm so tired. I feel sick and tired. I look sick and tired . . . I just am sick and tired. I know that nothing will change unless I make the changes. I will try tomorrow to make one small change.

I think coming here and writing was another of my better ideas. I have to thank you for making me come back. Really, truly, I need to keep coming back and get a grip. Thanks for being here, and staying here and waiting for me. I'm back and I am sorry that I couldn't even come back and write one line to let you know that I was okay. As my therapist said; I'm an expert avoider  . . . I suppose ultimately, avoiding myself and my emotions meant that I had to totally avoid coming here.

I won't dwell on what I've said or worry about what I've not said. I'm glad I've been here and I appreciate you being here. I'm just gonna click on publish and be very grateful that you good folk out there care enough to still be here . . . Thanks. Sending much love to you all.

Daddy Bob

 

 

Daddy Bob 8th July 1926 - 22nd March 2013

Just to let you know I'm back. I've been away in Wales, sitting with my Dad in hospital, where he died on 22nd March at 2am. O Daddio. I can't find any words just now.

I'll come back soon. I  hope you're all well. With love and thanks as always x x

Stage One Exposure and Eddy Whiskers.

Firstly, let me introduce Eddy Whiskers, the latest addition to our family. Hamper G has wanted a cat/kitten for some time. I always told her; one will come along soon enough. There's no need to go and look for a cat, they come and choose you and he did. He's about 8 months old according to the vet, we took him there to be scanned to see if he was chipped or reported missing, no. He's a real softie, he'd sit all day having his chin, cheeks and ears stroked. He curls up to sleep in normal cat position then gradually rolls his top half over until he's lying on his back, stretches his paws up above his head and sticks his tongue out! . . I'll get some better photos eventually, but for now this is Eddy in full on chill mode;

 

Ok, you get the idea, I am a tad obsessed with his beauty at the minute . . .  The softness of his fur. The thick velvet of his paws, the silky smooth fur of his ears. The airy fine fluff on his tummy, short, flock-like stubble on his nose. Precious little creature that he is. That's Eddy.

 

In therapy, we've completed the preparatory work and made a start on low level exposure. Along with my weekly appointment, this takes an hour a day. An hour, at home, with no distractions, being fully focused and prepared to bring on anxiety and stay with it. Yes, stay with it. Not avoid it, not run from it. Stay there. There is a limit to how bad it can get. Most phobics, or indeed non-phobics, probably don't realise this as we're used to "avoiding" uncomfortable feelings. We might imagine what could happen, but we run away long before it can. Anything but facing the fear . . .Why? What do we believe will happen if we face the fear? Will the anxiety just continue to escalate? What will it lead to? Screaming? Crying? Palpitations? Sweats and shakes? Yes. For sure. Heart attack?  Death? No. There is a limit and when we reach this limit and stay with it, eventually it will descend, it will pass. Yes, really. And, what's more, the more we "use" this technique, guess what? the more tolerance we build up to it . . . So maybe the peak will last twenty minutes on the first "exposure" but after a week of doing this daily, for an hour, the peak will get shorter and, of course (hopefully), lower. I was utterly exhausted at the end of my first hour. I will write more about this technique and therapy as I progress. I find it fascinating and can see, in theory, how it works. In theory.

 

O yeah, my chest review. Being the expert avoider that I am, I managed to cancel, ignore or conveniently forget the last five or six appointments; having convinced myself that the results would not be good and that I would be referred to the hospital again. Fool that I am. It appears that walking four or five miles a day since September has improved my lung function to 70%. When I was first diagnosed with Emphysema (4 yrs ago ) my lung function was 47% . . .  I must be doing something right, as well as doing plenty "wrong".

 

65ttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt;llllllllllllll56 4. That's Eddy's cryptic message.

 

Well, as much as I would like to sit here and write all day, I have to get on with life, starting with my hour of "forced anxiety" I must be bonkers. I had to take the weekend off as there were just too any people in and out of the house . . . There's no excuse today. Damn.

 

Hope you're all good today.  Sending love and thanks to you lovely folk x x

Dance me to the end of love

OK, Happy Valentine's Day.

There's so much more to say but each time I come here, I don't know what to say . . .

My therapist says I'm an expert avoider and I think that she is spot on. Avoid, avoid, avoid. A void.
I avoided opening a letter from benefits for two days. That could have been a very foolish idea. As it was, it was only to inform me of a £1 a week increase in my payments.
I avoided leaving the house, successfully, from Sunday to Wednesday. Very good, yes, well done.
I've even avoided my own Blog . . .

And the Phobia . . . Well, that represents all manner of matters . . . If I can avoid "that object" (object of my phobia), then all will be fine, which of course it won't and it's not . . . 

But that is, I'm learning, part of my reasoning. This makes sense to me

And the Addiction . . . Well, that helps me to avoid all uncomfortable, or comfortable, feelings. And if I don't "feel" then everything will be fine, which of course it won't and it's not . . .
And it's really not.

I've become a little wary of telling too much truth, which is a shame.  I don't want to have to be cryptic, but I can't be specific either. Shall we say, I'm a bit beyond fighting at present. I know you will know what I mean.

I swing between hope and despair. Hope, usually as I leave the therapist; Yes I can do this. I can beat this fear. That's all it is. Fear. Everything that is wrong with my life is born of fear. Despair; There are so many fears, so much fear, so deeply rooted. I will give up when the going gets tough, which it will.

Well, that's just some of it.

It's half-term and Hamper G is reminding me that we're cleaning the hamsters out today . . . O yeah, so we are.
Her Dad is still being held as a "Foreign National/Civil Prisoner" . . .  This is an utter nonsense. He was born in Glasgow . . . But what can one do against the powers that be?  What about the Truth? No.

So here's to Love and Truth on Valentine's Day. I am still reading your Blogs. I comment and delete, comment and delete. Thinking often of you all with love. Thanks, as always x

50!

That's it, I'm officially fifty years young! And it's officially bloody freezing . . . Although, not as cold as the night of January 22nd 1963 which, apparently, was one of the coldest nights on record during the 1900's

I couldn't access my own Blog for most of the day until Geekster came in from school and fixed it for me . . . something to do with the IP address? It made no sense to me but I can, at least, sign in and write a quick post to mark my Birthday. I still can't bring my snow photos over to the Blog from my photo files . . . I have no idea where the "browse" option has disappeared to. Geekster says he will check it out when he gets back from youth club. I can, however, put a photo on here from the web cam so here we are, or here I am . . . I save the gas to have the heating on when the kids are home. When I'm alone, I'm quite happy to stay wrapped up. The price of gas has risen hideously this year.

So . . . I'm not going to look back on how much, or how little, progress I've made in the sixteen months leading up to today  . . . Instead, I'm going to look forward to the future. I'm feeling quite optimistic on the whole. I'm feeling like I might be about to tap into my creative self some time soon. Yes.

What else? Not a lot really. I'm more pleased than ever that I began and continued with this Blog and I know I've said it before but thanks for being here with me. Really.

Hey, I just checked to see if the browse option had re-appeared . . . No, it hasn't, it's been replaced with a choose files option, Way Hay!! at last. I'll go and fetch a "couple" of pictures of the river, taken on my walk back from school this morning. Love to all x x