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.

From eight to nine

I've not blogged for a while, not because I haven't wanted to but because I've been learning. For those of you that know me, I love to learn. Sadly however I have had to come to a realisation that no matter how much you "know" or can understand whats "happening" knowledge itself will only get you so far. It can give meaning, help you express and communicate, it can even give you confidence, but there are some things knowledge can't do.

It can't stop your over wrought nervous system shaking when something spontaneous happens, it can't get rid of emotional pain trapped inside you, it can't help explain fear even if the logical explanation might help comfort "it" a little.

So as those of you who read my last post have realised, I have got to a stage where I am ready to introduce my mind to my body. "What?" you may ask "your attached to your body, what on earth do you mean?".

Speech and communication

"Can you put the peanut butter in the box please?"

Interpretation, "Can you put the butter away in the fridge?"

"I've made a rose pot last night"

Interpretation, "look I designed some rose patterns on a wooden vase last night (art)."

"Can you put the sandwiches in the boot?"

Interpretation, "Is the food in the car?"

Those of you that know me on a day to day have got used to my inability to consistently communicate. Some days I am able to speak consistently and coherently but other days it all just comes out wrong. Sometimes this misattunement can go even further and I find myself unable to speak at all. I know exactly what I want to say, have the words in my mind but they just won't come out. If I manage to force them out it will be because who ever I'm talking to has waited (sometimes up to a minute) for me to rally round and find a way.

I find conversations extremely hard. On a one to one there is often no problem, but put me in a group and its extremely stressful. Then put that group in a restaurant or a bar and I will openly admit to often resorting to alcohol to keep me relaxed enough to have any hope of surviving.

Recently I was reminded of the basics. When you have a brain that is hard wired to constantly scan for danger it is impossible to function efficiently if you feel unsafe. When under threat or perceived threat your pre frontal cortex (the logical bit) is switched on and off. Chemicals produced during this process such as cortisol and adrenaline can remain floating in your system in debilitating amounts for up to four hours after being released in enough amount to help you lift a car (pass the wine please or can I go to bed now).  

Add to that the unsafety of not being in total control of your inner world, I often have looping lines of songs that haunt me for days, ringing in my ears, banging in one ear and voices arguing or interrupting my thoughts. The voices may be commenting directly on the situation or giving me advice about the person Im speaking to, sometimes they just challenge me to swear F***k OFF!!!!!, they loop often saying the same thing over and over whilst getting louder which will invariably bring out maybe another two / three voices to argue back or endorse whats going on. (I ask for more wine to numb things,"I need to go to my room").

Part of my healing journey has been to acknowledge that there are very few spaces I feel safe in. I carry within in me enough to make the safest place unsafe. I feel like a walking sabotage. I have had to learn that this sabotage is not a direct reflection of my character but it is an addon to my fragmented identity. In the past I have thought I was just a very bad person rotten to the core. In those days my lack of understanding would result in distruction of some kind which would then just confirm to me my horridness.

But I have learnt other things aswell. I have learnt that to try and deny the voices, the need to sleep, the banging, looping, swearing and inability to communicate only makes it all worse. I have learnt that to try and constantly "make myself like look like everyone else" also makes things worse. We live in a new era of understanding and tolerance where expression is allowed and I want to say thank you to all my friends and family who make me feel safe and normal by letting me be and do what is "my normal".

Trigger warning! The gates of Mordor.

Sometimes I shut my eyes and see myself stood at the foot of a towering black gate. Its menacing just by its presents. Like something out of Lord of the Rings. I can be in two places. 

Standing at the bottom of the gate marvelling at its great width. I stand alone, singular, in the dry dusty desert one hand feeling the warm of the wood. The sun has heated and weathered the rough oak timbers  over time. This is my entrance to Mordor.

Whistfuly I find myself hovering somehow now miles in the air and I look over the gate. On the other side is mayhem. Orcs everywhere, slimy, ugly, angry. On the other side is noisy and intent on a fight.

 I hate what I see, I can't distinguish the noise of all the rabble. They are whipped into frenzy by thier own encouragement, I am scared of them.

Back down again at the bottom of the gate my heart pumps. looking  at the doors they are  tall, wide, huge, strong. For them to hold and 'contain' is easy. I reach my hand out again and feel the tar stained hulks of timber.

Then I realise that when the inhabitants of that world are pumped enough, the gates with be opened. My wants will mean nothing. Just like the film they will creak open, lumbering outwards to release a torrent of destruction, reaction. I will not be able to breath through the fear, I will be trampled without ever having been seen.

So to be asked "why dont you just face your fears?", makes me run. To be asked "why do you drink?", makes me fold in shame. To be asked anything without the speakers understanding hurts, I must hide. I will hide , I want to protect myself. I know the logic, I know the reasons to the gate, but nothing ever prepares you for how the stampede 'feels'.

Feelings eradicate logic, eradicate 'being sensible', eradicate who you really want to be. Brain triggered frontal cortex lame and useless. We must protect we must survive. That great gate crashes in an instance, the Orcs are free.