The Process of Therapy


So as I continue with the next session of therapy for this round of counselling. I thought I would share some more of my thoughts on the process.

28/2/17 Today’s Therapy Journey.

Today I spoke about what had been happening to me over the past 12 months since my last therapy sessions ended. I had thought that I was doing really well throughout the year and felt that I had made a good recovery and progressed. There was the fact that I followed this therapists advice when she told me to get creative again and it took me to places I did not expect. For which I am very grateful. I told her about this blog and how it has helped me in so many ways over the past year. Yes it’s actually been a year to the day since I started my blog and wrote my first post for India Blue. So much has happened. It began as part of my therapy and has grown into something so much bigger and better than I imagined back then.

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WordPress Happy Anniversary 1 Year!

We also spoke about how I could change what I need to and what my hopes are going forward. What do I want to do? I still don’t know exactly but I hope that I will know it when I find it.

I am happy writing, as little or as much as I do, it doesn’t have to be continuous but it does have to be regularly.

This week I have homework!

She wants me to write, specifically what I would like to achieve from these sessions. How I would like them to help me. My instinctive answer was “to get my head right” it was a bit blasé of me, a throwaway statement but right now it’s not one I have a definitive answer to.

Thinking for more than just a moment.  From this bout of therapy I would like to discover if after I have gone through it, I can find what I believe is out there for me to do and be able to do actually do it. I am guessing that I am going to need help with doing that, but don’t know to what extent yet.  I still don’t know what my future holds or even where to start, sure I have hopes and dreams I just don’t know how to get there, lacking in the confidence which allows me to take the leap that I may need to. I admit it, to a degree I am scared.

I would love to know how to quicken the healing process. I would like to know if the thoughts and emotions that I feel are linked to the PTSD I was sent here with in the first place almost two years ago. Or does it just stop and go away? Can it grow worse when faced with new trauma or mutate into a different thing? I still feel an emotional mess rather a lot of the time, ill equipped to cope and I would love to know how people who feel this way do. I know that life goes on. It’s happening all around me, but I feel somehow detached from it an other worldliness surrounds it. If I could regain that control over my life and my destiny then I think that it would help. But I question whether we ever get to do that, have any control over destiny, or do we just have to simply accept it? There again it is in my nature to question everything and perhaps too much. There are times when I am confident, my brave face goes on and for a short time I can face the world and take everything in my stride, but it is not natural to me at the moment and underneath I often feel I am crumbling. I go home and once again feel exhausted, my mind and body aching, totally fatigued. It happens after each therapy session and often after I go out, just to do the shopping.

But buoyed by talking about something that made me happy, (my blog) today I came home and was met by an email confirming one of my fears. I am sad. The CPS are not taking the case against my neighbour who attempted to knife both my partner and I last year any further. So it seems as though he has got away scot free with it. Which doesn’t thrill me at all and renders me fearful of what may come my way. I now want to be staying here even less than before and want to change things for the better.

via Daily Prompt: Quicken

When it’s alright on the outside.

This is the inspiration beind this particular post. This picture came from Facebook as so many do but in particular advertising awareness for Crohn’s & Colitis.

It got me thinking about just how many people I might know who are dealing with an invisible illness. The ones where it does not show, people who we are sure they are alright because they don’t look ill. It occurred to me how  almost everyone we know fights a battle of some sort.

It could be cancer, mental health, abuse, addictions, or a physical illness or disability. It could be anything at all.

It is very easy to not think about what other people might be going through and just react to a comment, a look or an emotion but in a judgemental world that we are living in, just take a moment to think about it before your own assumptions take over. Some fight it all alone whilst others can have a whole network of support. Some simply cannot cope and will shut down hoping for the storm to pass. Some will talk about it whilst others will not everyone is different.

Respect those differences but if you know someone who has is coping with an illness invisible or not, just a small gesture to show that you are thinking of them, or that you care can mean the world when it all gets too much.

I know we have just had the season of goodwill and you might be feeling that New Year warm fuzzy feeling but can we extend that around the rest of the year and it might just start to make a difference in our lives. I’m not asking for world peace, after all who am I to ask?

CBT When Those Three Letters Mean Totally Different Things and when it’s just time to Breathe!

It confused me slightly when I first heard the phrase. Compulsory Bike Training was what came to my mind with them as when years before I had learned to ride a Motorcycle this was a legal requirement. I did the training then the throttle jammed I rode the motorbike up a wall and it landed on top of me see  Almost a Biker Lots of physio for several months put pay to me ever getting back on one since then but I still have my bike gear in case I change my mind.

There I go flitting off on a different subject, Oh the butterfly mind again.

CBT -This time we are talking about Cognitive Behavioural Therapy 

When I first attended Therapy for PTSD & Trauma following an accident I was sent into a group session for this therapy and to be perfectly honest with you I hated it. I tried really hard to be the positive one and take good experiences from it but dreaded each session, leaving early from home, sitting in the car thinking “I don’t need to go” sometimes getting out and having a talk with myself to pull myself together before getting back in the car and heading off.

At the sessions I could relate to what they were saying. I knew some of this stuff anyway but somewhere along the way had stopped applying it to my everyday thinking, or even when I really needed it. I had felt that sometimes I was unravelling and I really didn’t like the feeling. I did not have confidence, it had gone but I did retain the ability to instil confidence in others which meant that I fooled myself into thinking that I was recovered long before I actually was. As the weeks went by there were a few other people who turned up early and we would sit and talk to each other before the sessions started, some were very open about their reasons for attending, others were a little more reserved.

I do not actually remember her name, but she was post operative transgender who had been placed in a homeless facility. She had been Hospitalised  due to someone taking offence at her and had lost her home and her life as she knew it. The authorities moved her there and she had to share the whole facility with men. Following her ordeal she was wary around them and they saw her as skivvy to them as a woman but did not accept her either because of her sexuality. She was going through hell, but was fighting a battle against abuse substances and alcohol too. There is always someone worse off than you If you can think past yourself, did she but know it she helped me too. She just needed someone to talk to, to hear her since she had tried to commit suicide and felt so alone but before that would happen she, like I had to go through those sessions. We both struggled with the group sessions. I think everyone did but in the end I hope that she found them useful as I have done and found an understanding counsellor.

CBT taught me how to remain calm at least on the outside when the inside is in turmoil. Many talk of fight or flight and I think I was born to fly.  Unless I have a bee in my bonnet and decide to stand my ground which does happen, from time to time when my stubbornness kicks in. It also taught me that not all gut feelings are to be ignored. Yes we sometimes get things wrong and don’t see them the way we should due to paralyzing fear when we are in that fight or flight mode. 

If you look into this type of therapy then CBT is described as a type of talking treatment that focuses on how your thoughts, beliefs and attitudes affect your feelings and behaviour, and teaches you coping skills for dealing with different problems.

It combines cognitive therapy (examining the things you think) and behaviour therapy (examining the things you do).

It forces you to rethink your first reaction to something in a negative or stressful situation and focus the mind to enable you to calm the body. It is beneficial if you suffer with anxiety or depression.

But if you can’t quite get your head around what is ruling it when you are stressed out…

Then it’s time to breathe. By regulating our breathing we can give our mind the chance at rational thought when flight or fight kicks in. Just a few deep breaths can make the world of difference. Don’t believe me? Just try it next time you are wound up.

Take the deepest breath you can and hold it whilst you count to three, then breathe out from as low down as possible in your stomach, do this three times at least. How do you feel now, a little calmer perhaps? I tried this at night when I was having awful nights with very little sleep. I found it improved that too. It was just too much for me to expect me to clear my thoughts as I did so, but just that small change has helped me.

After these group sessions and before I saw my one to one counsellor, there was a three month wait in between, whilst I tried to put into practice what I had learned and deal with the day to day, rebuilding my self confidence and with it my life.  I thought that I was doing so well I learned to block out my gut feelings for a while. I became mistrusting of them thinking that they should all be ignored as my brain struggled to cope with what life was throwing at me. It was a mistake. 

In certain situations I had a very strong feeling usually about people I met and during that time I did not trust my instincts and I should have. I put my trust in some people who saw weakness and chose to manipulate me and a situation, which left me wide open to their attacks. There I was kidding myself that I had my strength back, after all I was fine on the outside and wasn’t going to let it get me down. I got a new job, I thought I enjoyed it. I got on well with almost everyone there, was eager to please but could do nothing right for my direct manager. I spent a year working with a team where I just didn’t fit in.  Try as I may I could not change that, they had seen me as a usurper, someone who was there to break the little clique they already had.  For 12 months I tried my best, but struggled and felt as though I was drowning.  I had become even more withdrawn, desperate and miserable, when beforehand I was trying and had started to become upbeat and positive again.  Whilst I saw the counsellor with whom I was referred for a totally different reason, to get me through the trauma of an accident I spent the majority of the sessions discussing my job, the situations I was in and how I should cope.

I really felt that I gained a benefit from the one to one sessions. She told me that it wasn’t me, it was them. Where I had been beating myself up, figuratively speaking for months thinking where did I go wrong?  I found that running the situations past her, someone who wasn’t biased like my partner or mother, might help me see more clearly. She advised me to find a new job for my own sanity and get out of there, she could see the damage it had done to me over the short time I had been her client. Furthermore, she said I should also find something which made me happy, to do something for myself at least once a week it would help my recovery.  She suggested that since I was missing my creativity, (it had gone when things started to go downhill for me) that I follow my true nature and get creative again. I began with a simple adult colouring book and it seemed to open the floodgates, just the simple act of adding colour to the pages.

It took a while but I did and began to write poetry again.  After a while there were quite a few poems. I thought about a book, but did not have a clue how to get my work out there or publish it. So I decided to begin the blog so that at last I would be able to have a voice again. I had felt that there were very few who were inclined to listen, however my counsellor reassured me that my voice would be heard.  I am not talking about shouting from the rooftops or getting on my soap box about subjects. I needed to make sense of the things that were in my head. It was part of my therapy and would help me more than I could have ever anticipated.

I am not out of the woods yet, figuratively speaking there are times when thoughts are dark and miserable. There are others when I am extremely happy and there is so much in between.

If you are feeling depressed or suffering, please do not do it alone. Whatever it takes to get your help, speak to someone, if you do not have someone you can trust then call a helpline.

 

 

Never Underestimate It.

9/11/16

Never Underestimate It.

What’s that? I hear you ask….

The effect a dog can have to help you to heal.

I read some time ago about how dogs have helped with PTSD and Depression, I know that having Kato around at my darkest times was probably a lifesaver, even when my partner didn’t know what would help, Kato always seemed to. When my partner was in grief for the loss of his family members and no-one seemed to understand, our boy was there, by his side to get him through each day too. When I was unable to work and ill, he was there for me watching over me, watching over us both, he always knew when we weren’t well and would be especially vigilant until we were better. I will be eternally grateful to him for all that he gave us in his life, the love and support and loyalty. I daren’t hope that we could find that again, so soon after losing him.

I read an article about prisoners caring for shelter dogs, for veterans who feel that they have no-one. The power a dog has to rehabilitate a person is astounding. A transformation can take place in such a short time and the bond that forms is incomparable.

The trauma of the summer will heal in time. We needed the distraction of our trip, we both needed to take time out and think about what we wanted in our future. It was there up on the hill that we decided although we have each other and that is enough. The icing on the cake would be to share our hearts and space with a new furry person, one who needed a new start, for whatever reason. I said that we would know when we found the right one for us, but that we did not need to rush. He kept getting me to look, almost daily. Had he decided that it was time, was he right?

We looked, we made a few phonecalls, sent messages, almost going through the motions, but I didn’t know how we felt. He could not even meet a dog without tears forming, he missed him so much. His buddy, his friend, he felt lost. We missed everything about not having Kato around and it was eating us up. We talked about whether it would be too soon and how he may have felt about us sharing our love. We concluded that he would want us to be happy. Meanwhile no-one even responded to our messages or calls. We thought maybe it wasn’t meant to be after all, maybe we hadn’t found our one yet.

It was a Saturday night, we had our favourite lovely meal and a bottle of wine, he asked me to look, there had been no internet signal all evening, at about 1am, I tried to shut the computer down but there was suddenly a signal. I again looked at the dogs which were up for adoption and rehoming. We had been speaking to a rescue lady the day before, but there were some issues with the owners and he wasn’t sure. I found three dogs which I thought might suit us and called him to look at the pictures. Two of them were Black and White, which I gravitated towards, but this was not just a decision for me. My partner told me that he would prefer someone who did not remind him of our Kato. He wouldn’t want to make comparisons and the new one would have big paws to fill. They were all between 2 and 5 years old. We wanted someone who we would have a chance of a good few years with.

Then there was Rocky.
He was so different from Kato, a blonde bear. Sable & Cream with a smile full of puppy nonsense. He looked as though he had a sweet nature. Such things are important. We barely got any sleep and as I gave him the list of the three numbers. He rang only one. He spoke to the man who was giving him up. We asked if we could visit on the way back South, we asked all about him, all the things that we could think of that we might need to know. We made an arrangement to visit a week later and the man promised that we would be the first to see him.

As the week passed we kept thinking about him. I had saved the photographs to look at them. We anticipated our visit.
Exhausted we travelled back from Scotland had very little sleep and then called to confirm our visit. When we arrived some hours later, my partner wanted to meet him first. He said he wouldn’t get a look in once he had seen me. The man let Rocky in whilst he was upstairs. He came down minutes later to find me sitting on the floor with this beautiful dog sitting next to me, having his ears stroked. Rocky came over to say Hello to him and came back to me for more fuss.

We stayed for hours, he barely left my side, we took him for a walk in the park, off the lead, after all we were with his owner. We were thrilled that he was so good and did not react to other dogs other than to go and say hello and run off again. I was holding the lead so I called him back, he returned to me every time and I praised him. He walked by my side so nicely. We had all decided by the time we left that he would be coming to live with us. As we departed Rocky tried to get into our car to come with us, there and then we knew. Resistance was futile but I had to send him back to his owner, telling him that I would be back next week to see him again. We trusted our instincts when we met him, came home discussing him all the way, I think we’d found our new son.

I was on tenterhooks all week long, hoping that nothing would go wrong. We spoke midweek and all was set, we would have a meal with his family and then we would be bringing him home. When we arrived he was in the garden on a chain, it was pouring with rain and he was soaked. I asked why but did not get an answer and asked for a towel. When the rain died down a bit we all took him for a walk. Otherwise the evening was lovely.

He said his Goodbyes, we will stay in touch and Father and Son can come and visit him when they would like to. It was an eventful drive home, 80 miles with him talking and whining all the way, he wanted to be in the front and climb onto my lap. I could not fit in the back to comfort him, there wasn’t room for me in his bed and I didn’t want to invade his space. We showed him around his new home and garden he was thrilled, I gave him a new soft blanket, he took it into the lounge, we laid it out on the floor and I sat on it with him. He just wanted to be cuddled. We gave him lots to drink and when it was time for bed, we decided that he could sleep in the lounge. Access all areas except the bedroom. We slept with the door open so we could hear him. He layed down to sleep and did not cross the threshold until he needed to go out. But kept coming to the doorway to check on us, he was amazing.

In the morning, when we woke up, he came into the room to see us and climbed up to put his paws on my shoulder, giving me kisses and a hug. The best good morning a new mummy could hope for.

There will be learning, there will be things which test us no doubt, like the tantrum when we put his Halti on, but he settles down. He is after all an Alaskan Malamute and it is in their nature to test, but so far he is proving to be a wonderful addition to the family and our home, full of character and love.

Our healing has begun and so has his. We have been in limbo for a while as we grieved. He is still in our thoughts daily, but I no longer sob nightly at the thought of him, that stopped only days ago. We still speak to him and tell him about his new brother, we are sure that he would have loved him too. I am telling him about the daily nonsense, he would have kept him in check a big brother to watch him.

The little one whom we adopted just three days ago, who is full of love and affection and has already changed his life for the better since his arrival.
He has no desire to sleep in his basket we brought back with him. He would not even climb into it so it has been put away. He was pleased to get a new harness which didn’t make him itch and wears it with a smile. The soft bed was washed three times, but he will not lay on it, not even disguised under his new blanket. He has plenty to say, where he was quiet when we visited him. He is finding his voice. He wakes us up to say Hello and give us kisses but were told he wasn’t very kissy. He kisses me after I feed him to thank me and comes to tell us that he has eaten his meal, for praise. He follows us everywhere, it is early days maybe this is normal to have a new shadow. There is no rush to eat his food, he is not so hungry, no-one will remove it, the cat won’t eat it if he leaves it. It is still there for him. He eats when he is hungry, leaves it and returns to it later, tail wagging that it is still there. He is not hunting for treats all the time, the obsession with food is gone.
We didn’t change his name, just how it was spelled.
Ecstatic that he was given his first toy by his new Dad on the first morning when he awoke he proudly presents it to us many times throughout the day and is happy to share it with us whenever we ask. He will fetch it back and wait for it to be thrown. He will wait when asked to and has wonderful manners. He wants to play, night and day and is chasing his tail for the first time today, dancing around the room as I write this with plenty to say.

We are smiling again, big smiles which are right across our faces, there is laughter and merriment in our house, three days in a row for the first time in months. The light is back on we are all happy, so very happy to be parents again. There are no second thoughts, no doubt or did we do the right thing? We realised that this was meant to be when we sat shattered from the journey, to see my brand new sleeping furry son head on my lap with a beautiful smile, for him to be squarely between the two of us, comforted by the feet of his new Mum and Dad.

The Daily Post – Second Thoughts

 

 

Wrapped Up


Wrapped up in my thoughts like a blanket pulled too tight.

Trying to release me, twist and turn with all my might.

The blanket offers me, some comfort from the cold.

But thoughts are hiding there in the crease and in the fold.

They creep unexpectedly as I lay here on the bed.

Dance round the subconscious and here in my head.

Sometimes I’ll wrestle them and pull them to the floor.

Hoping I can sling them, far out of the door.

But as I try to do this, they often come right out.

Leave me tired and sad and exhausted from the bout.

They are sometimes mixed with anger, so often filled with pain.

So I sit and write them down so they’ll be gone again.

I hope a while later, when my head it starts to reel,

That I can give it time and the space in which to heal.

The Frustration in Fighting for Peace and Justice.

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Try as I may, I am bundled up with frustration at the situation which we currently face.
Following on from the incidents of this week, as mentioned in my previous post The art of holding it together…. Or keeping calm in a crisis.(which is a bit of a long read)

I have been told that the man who tried to come and kill me has been released, whilst I was being told this, he arrived back to his own home opposite mine, at about 11pm shouting that he was back. I told this to the Police officer who was informing me, she sighed and said, “so he is already kicking off then.”

It is the sort of response that I would expect from a friend of family member, but again it seems the police are actually powerless to deal with this. They know exactly what they are dealing with here and yet they had to let him go on bail, because he said that he didn’t do it! As my friend put it quite succinctly, did they expect him to say, “Yes Officer, I am a complete arse, I cannot live or function in Society”

I found out yesterday, that he told the officer who questioned him that he had never spoken to me before, which was a complete lie but thus admitting in theory at least that he did on this occasion. They said that there was not enough evidence. I am pretty sure that in the three hours it took the police to actually find him and arrest him, he was able to return the knife he was carrying back into the kitchen drawer, only to remove it and come back over the road carrying it a further twice, but there was plenty of time.
They released him on bail, but did not apply any bail conditions, like staying away from me or my partner. I questioned this, since I had been told that he had been told not to come near or speak to either of us. The police officer said that he would have been told that, but it was not an actual condition of his bail. My question, “So there’s nothing to actually stop him doing that then” “No,” he replied.

The officer came to gather more information for the Crown Prosecution Service, who are now trying to build a case against him. The two witness statements given and a verbal statement to another officer were simply not enough for them. I offered two letters from a former neighbour which mention that he was taken into custody some time ago by riot squad for using knives, and had returned to his old ways he told me that they were not useful to this investigation. I was confused as they showed a previous history of violent behaviour involving knives from a further independent witness. I also mentioned the neighbour who confirmed for the policemen who attended that he had been throwing knives about whilst she had a conversation with us and shouting abuse at us, just after he attempted to run my partner down, just 2 weeks earlier.

The police officer forgot something when he left and returned moments later to collect it to find this man standing at our front gate, yelling abuse at my partner. Clearly the neighbour did not expect him to return. He searched him and cautioned him again and sent him back to his house telling him to stay on his side of the street and not come near this property. The ranting went on for a large part of the afternoon. I stayed indoors.

Yesterday early evening he was in his front garden, yelling across the street again and mimicking my partner walking about. Then standing in front of the house menacingly. He certainly had some acting skills, that man and seems to love a camera, he was acting up for it. He was also wearing a white chefs jacket in his new cunning disguise. Pieces of a puzzle, why would he have chefs whites you may ask, well if he was out of his garden with another kitchen knife, someone might mistake him for a chef.

Thankfully since he seems to have the thought pattern of a 17 year old and you can watch the cogs whirring, we are able to see things coming to a certain extent, but basically think of a set of circumstances put together with childlike thought and remain one step ahead at all times.

I again notified the council of this incident who I would have hoped had not got their hands firmly in their pockets on this occasion. However it seems that the fence they are sitting on is so far up their backsides that you cannot even see it. A local councillor who had previously promised to deal with the matter as mediator and to lend it some weight when this first began some seven weeks ago, has done nothing not been to see other victims and now feels he’d like to go and visit the man himself for a chat, telling me that there is compassionate feeling for his circumstances. In seven weeks, no-one has visited him yet and there is clearly absolutely no compassion for mine, or the other neighbours whom he has terrorised during this time or beforehand Well, I hope that the dear councillor takes a stab vest with him and I am sure that the neighbour will have his carer present, or perhaps the barrister that his mother provided to remove him from custody the other day. Most certainly he will play his part of meek and mild to the hilt, he will probably take his medication that day, wear smart clothes and wait until the councillor leaves the house and then he will go back to being the monster he has become. I only hope that they are not fooled for a minute, but fear that they will be completely taken in by the charade.

For him it is a fine game, which can be played day in, day out, night and day endlessly for as long as it takes by someone with far to much time on their hands. Meanwhile we cannot continue with our lives or get anything done. No preparation for a trip we were due to take in July and have yet to, since our days are taken up with dealing with the circumstances of his play, or the fallout from it. Does it all boil down to politics at the end of the day, since he is Special Needs. The response which I received from the councillor certainly led me to believe that.

The frustration I feel right now is so intense that I am wound like a clock. Suffering with Hypertension, you tend to know when you are about to become ill and I am about one step away. I am not sleeping properly, I am jumpy and cannot relax, my chest is fluttering and pounding and my heart rate is ten beats more than usual. I know this since the Dr asked me to check it before I left the surgery the other day. She is concerned and has prescribed me medication for acute anxiety. Although I would love the release of forgetting about what has happened and being able to relax. I cannot afford to let my guard down outside of the home. I am on higher alert than I was three days ago, when he was away. I am looking over my shoulder as I walk accompanied down the road. I would rather not leave the house at all, I only feel safe out in the car, to a certain level.

My home here is no longer a place of safety where I can sleep, relax and enjoy being. I crave the sanctuary of the Hill, somewhere I can take us both off to recharge our batteries and forget about the Trauma caused by this  Summer’s events. Or at least can gather my own thoughts into some semblance of order once again, without the domination of this person. I have the getaways so badly that I can taste it, but am powerless to get there. I have the offer to stay with friends, but a night away, would bring fear of what may have happened by my return, so I have declined thus far.

The other day, I was feeling an inner strength which I know is still deep down. I am digging deeply for it at the moment, trying to be strong and remembering that I have a voice and to make it heard. Surely one man cannot chase off a whole bunch of neighbours, well he has managed to terrorise them for months now. I do want to move, but I don’t want to be seen off and leave the other people around here to try and deal with it. They haven’t been able to before, if I have become a kind of ambassador for the local neighbours, then that may not be such a bad thing. To have someone fighting their corner for a change. We all want to be safe in our homes.

A couple of weeks ago, I repainted a bench in our garden.  It is there as a reminder, during the times when it feels so dark. It also sends a message to the whole neighbourhood. #LoveisStrongerthanHate Although I am finding it hard to love this particular neighbour after what he has inflicted upon us as a family, which is pain so deep and personal in a barrage of unprovoked attacks, by sharing some love amongst the rest of the community, we will become stronger.

I thought about asking my current landlords about moving me to another property as they did when I moved in here following a burglary carried out by my next door neighbour. But since this man’s mother has friends in high places who are giving her information, I know that I would not be safe there either, if he was not held in a secure unit he would come and find me, since he is not giving up. Also, I have asked myself the question who would want to move in here, I would have a duty to them to tell them that there was an issue with one or two of the neighbours, so who in their right mind would want to move to a place like this at the moment? Part of me would see this as defeat if I moved. Meanwhile, the torrent of foul abuse is launched upon me whenever I step out of the front door.

I don’t have the answer, I am begging them for something to be done. For this horror story to finish so that we can all get on with our lives, but at the moment I am stuck in limbo. I am unable to proceed and certainly not wanting to retreat. If I can hold my ground, I am in with a chance of survival.

The Daily Post – Recharge

Family Time with My Siblings

This week has been an interesting one, I have seen both of my siblings, part of my family and I am feeling loved, I hope that they do too.

I went out with my sister on Thursday for several hours, just the two of us in her car, she is a new driver and wanted to get some practice in now that she has a car. We drove to the shops and both she and I had places in mind that we wanted to see although she did not have the address for hers, we went in that direction. Stopping at the shop for some car supplies, we munched on donuts in the car park of a store before setting off. They were the best donuts I have had in years, light and fluffy with just the right amount of jam. They melted as they hit your mouth and were really enjoyable, leaving the obligatory slightly sticky fingers. A clean up and we set off on our little road trip. I loved the afternoon and evening we spent together, it was just lovely to be ourselves, with no one else around, driving through the countryside along country roads, in the sunshine, the car full of fresh air talking about all sorts of things. My partner called to make sure all was going well and asked us how Thelma and Louise were doing today, it made us both laugh. I loved that we could be totally natural, no-one to judge us, no-one to interrupt us either. We arrived back in the evening tired and happy and enjoyed a meal together.

Over dinner she gave me a wonderful compliment, she said to my partner that she has always seen me as always demure and ladylike and seemed to be able to remain calm, she admired me for that. I told her that I had made a conscious effort to be that way, it didn’t come naturally to me. But there is fire within, we discussed that too, that I am not one to be pushed. I will only allow it so far, she said that she had only ever seen me lose my temper twice. (I didn’t ask for details) I am not proud of letting rip, it takes a lot for me to do that. My sister although like me in many ways, is much more fiery, she will say whatever comes into her head and blow the consequences, it has such an effect that she often has no recollection of it afterwards, the steam and the words have gone. Often they leave their mark elsewhere, but once they are out in her mind they are gone. As she set off later that night, we agreed, as we often do, that we should spend more time together and hope to see each other next week as well.

I saw my brother yesterday, it was the first time we had actually met up in about a year. We had so much to catch up on, despite regularly speaking on the phone, it is wonderful to hug him and talk with him. He is working abroad these days and returns for short trips in between his contracts. I was physically ill and couldn’t see him last year when he arrived back, so yesterday we started early and he arrived in the afternoon, staying for lunch and dinner with us. It was great to share some stories, hear about his travels and that he is enjoying getting out and about with his camera he showed me some great photos he’d taken, he wants to do more of this, I suggested Instagram as he goes.

One conversation with my brother yesterday I mentioned to him that I am writing a blog and a book. He asked what it is about. I told him many things, It contains photographs, memories, stories and so far has covered many subjects, such as Invisible Illnesses, He looked as though he did not know what I meant, I explained, Depression, PTSD, Endometriosis. He seemed a little shocked, I told him of my plans to publish a book of poems this year. I have the poems, people are reading my blog and poetry and I have a twitter account now, as of last week with followers there too. Thank you to all of the above on and also being joined by my 50th follower, athling2001 on the blog, another personal milestone for me this week.

He asked me what my own plans were, I told him that although I do not currently have a paid job, I have been writing for some months. That it started out as a recovery thing for me, but I used to write years ago, poems and things and felt the need to be creative once again. I tried to draw, and paint, and make things, but writing seems to have taken off in a big way for me and comes naturally, he had been speaking to a lady we both know, who is currently writing children‘s stories, she apparently told him of her night writing and the times when there is nothing, but then it can return in floods. He laughed, I told him yes, it is real. It has given me the opportunity to express myself. The REAL me. I found myself explaining to him that for so long, I had been stifled by people around me, who expected me to be a certain way. I was facing an inner battle, yes, there were times when I wanted to shout at people and tell them that they were behaving badly, but I didn’t. I held it all in for years and suddenly, I couldn’t anymore. I admire the people I know who can just shout about it straight away and it’s over. I am not one of those people.
I carefully consider the possible repercussions of my words and actions, over think things and then think better of saying things, wise after the event. I should have said…. If I were to do it over again I would do/say etc, you get the gist.

Last year I stopped holding it all in. A counsellor helped me realise that it doesn’t solve things, to keep them put away. I was urged to find an outlet, give myself some me-time on a regular basis and find out what I needed and make sure that I got some of it. It was an eye-opener, just taking permission to do something for me, for no-one else time alone now and then and I have guarded it ever since. Now I have an outlet, I WRITE. I am not carrying all this emotional baggage around with me, I have room in my head, to think, to plan, to have a future. I may not be rich, I may not have a successful job at the moment, but I did, so I could again. But for the time being I am Happy! I am Grateful for the things I have learned, for the people who have put their faith in me, for allowing myself to be ME again. I might be a new me, but it is exhilarating to find the nice bits, bring them out and cherish them within the new person that I am still becoming. I explained to my brother that writing is quite cathartic, the release it gives is wonderful. He looked quite concerned, as though I may have rambled a bit, I think it took him by surprise. I don’t know if he understood, perhaps he never will.