The most radical thing I can do today is....

The most radical thing I can do today will not be painting the other half of the bedroom that Zippy and I are making, as my temptation suggests.

Nor will it be:

• Drilling seven new cupboards to the kitchen wall
• Moving all my art things out of storage
• Taking all and everything we don't need in the flat to charity shop or recycling center
• Putting a tarpaulin on the lawn and digging out all the garden waste and making a new pallet compost bin

Temptation!  Suggestion! Frustration! 
Temptation!  Suggestion! Frustration! 
Temptation!  Suggestion! Frustration!
NOW!!!NOW!!!NOW!!!

'I am more important!!" 

"no I am more important!!!!"

 "achieve me and I will be the answer!" 

" no I'm the answer!!"
Run freeze run freeze run freeze run freeze run freeze!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It will not be:

• Clearing out my daughters room and scrubbing the paint off her window
• Painting four pine wardrobes, five chest of draws and four side tables
• Hoovering the flat to within and inch of its life
• Cooking mushy peas from scratch
• Painting the floor blue
• Swapping all the mattresses around

• It will not be giving into all the voices dancing and colliding as they shout and whisper what "should be done?". 
• It will not be giving into the frustration of the looping 'One Direction - Story of My Liiiiiiiiiiiiiiife'! Stupid Unfinished song line that I woke up and that is presently is trying to knock Kate Bush (CBE) of her perch. 
• It will not be giving into the need to hide in bed and lock the door and wish the day away, whilst simultaneously thinking I actually have enough energy to run twenty marathons and cook dinner for half of London.

Actually the most radical thing I can do today seems harder than all those things.  
Today I need to have a shower and wash my hair.

The pattern of "Sorry"!!!!!

Sorry

From pretty early on I learnt the word 'sorry'. In my younger years it was my violent behaviour that made me say it but even back then I used to feel extremely frustrated at people not understanding why I had flown off the handle.  To be totally honest I didn't understand either as was too young and used to believe I was an awful individual.

 An example of the build up to 'loosing it' would be a sound or a feeling that would overwhelm me. 

Unable to process the invading stress would result in me launching myself at whoever or whatever was creating the problem and attacking it. 

By the age of four I had scarred my sisters face and thrown her down the stairs and, quite rightly, both my sisters we're scared of me and kept their distance. Now I'm not talking about obvious stresses that everyone can understand creating this behaviour; my stresses, built out of nothing, escalated rapidly and left all involved in shock. let me give another example.  Once aged five I had been put to bed excited, my mum had told me she was going to the shops to buy us all new pillows and was leaving us in the care of my dad. This you must understand was extremely rare, I felt scared in the dark and she would not be there. I also wanted a new pillow. So I started to act up and in the end my mum came into the room I shared with my little sister. She said "If your not asleep when I'm  back then you won't get a pillow".  I cried more, the threat, my brain processed it as an unsolvable problem. "If I sleep, how will I know when you come back to get the pillow???". So I tried holding my breath to look asleep which also failed and gradually the dispare gremlins arrived playing in my head with no ability to get out of the loop, couldn't get to a new view or thought that I could get my reward the next day. Neither did I believe that the situat could ever be ok as it seemed impossible to be asleep and awake at the same time. I took my mums words literally. My brain even at that age was over thinking and became overwhelmed by all the possibilities It came up with to solve its predicament. My body got wound up and full of anger as each thought or action failed.

My Creative Twin

Been wanting to write about this for a long time, finally there seems to be enough meaning.

As you may or may not know I am creative , having what I almost term as a relationship with it (creativity). I would describe it as yet another split in my personality (me and it /  it and me).

Last year I joined an art group in fear and trembling knowing it was time to meet my nemesis. Prior to this I had only allowed myself to only make crafty things, no paint or unstructured elements permitted.

But I have a twin, an untamed sibling, and we are joined at the shoulder. She has her own head and neck and I have mine. We battle as to who's eyes to look through and whose ears to hear with; she works alone and only in isolation; she can not communicate but she is dominate.

From 2000 till 2012 I kept her hidden and insisted on my vision only. I explained to her that her ways of doing things was impossible! I explained to her that I needed connection and relationship, unwilling to cope with what she produced I feared dying myself if it carried on. We share a body but constantly fought and argued and she won to often.

Tourettes friends and family weekend

Family & Friends weekend 2013

May 2013 -  The whole family are all helping to put together a holiday weekend for people and families affected by Tourettes.

Back then having only showed or talked about the inner workings of my world with a handful of people. Back then it was to much of a risk, not only was it probable that there would be a melting internally but I was scared and covered in shame. Still at what seemed like the mercy of my physical self and unsure / unaware of why my body reacted the way it did.

As our fellow campers arrived, we watched from our camp. The dodge (our beloved converted camper-van) was placed away from the majority in the corner of the field. This placing of distance was a standard for me and Zippy as partly it meant a place for me to retreat to. A place I could complete my rituals to calm down and not being seen by others but there was a huge surprise to this normality!

The dreaded silent gap

So what I would like to tackle today is what I call the dreaded gap.

As you know, change is not something I adapt to easily and this morning was a classic example.

Over the weekend we had left our car at the office and borrowed the mini bus to help with a children's party on the Saturday.

Monday morning, this morning, Zippy reminded me again that we would drive the kids to school in the mini bus (not the car) . I was greatful for the warning of difference as I had again forgotten the change. His warning meant a softer landing on its encounter.