Are you ok Carwen?

My brain whirls into gear. I start to try and cross reference a whole load of information to try and get the correct answer.

Firstly, what context is this question being asked? 

Is it a quick social meeting situation were I'm supposed to say, "yes I'm fine how are you?" 

Then comment on further meaningless statements such as the classic, "so enjoying the sunny weather" (statement followed by a smile). In this situation you are not being asked for anything greater than a positive memory of a 5 minute meeting that enhances your bond of care for the person involved. 

Then there's the mid level, "how are you?"

This is usually someone who knows you and is genuinely interested but only 20cms into your world not the full measure. You have to remember to give what I call 'topic titles' but don't unpack the topic.

Then there's the not equal "how are you?"

This is perhaps one of the easiest as the person usually always works in this pattern every time you see them you just have to identify it. They ask how are you?, I give a quick summary of a few bits of personal information and then ask "how are you?". That the rest of the meeting sorted and you spend a few hours identifying and solving problem patterns in the persons surrounding environment.

Then there's the echo.

This person works by echoing. It's almost a tit for tat "how are you?" "How are you?". How's work? How's your work. This only requires one piece of information replies, any expansion on a one sentence reply will be ignored and another question asked until the prescribed 'set' of questions have been asked and the person is fulfilled.

Then there's those who can get  nerdy, deep, and are what I call fellow pattern thinkers. 

Carwen how are u? Six hours later all subjects covered from both our lives it's 3am and everyone's in bed. You say goodbye knowing you have offloaded up loaded pondered and perceived and are fulfilled, with every topic unpacked repacked cross-referenced and logged. Sleep is deep and content.

Then theres double question bonanza.

"Carwen how are you? Did you see that program last night?"

Wrong wrong wrong, that's two questions, neither of which you are going to answer as by the time you have separated and categorised the information it is to late and the conversation had moved on so I'm left on the back foot trying to work out what is now being said.

Then there's the well intended but can't cope so get cut of with no resolution "how are you?"

Negative situation 

•  " I'm worried about X"
•  "Don't worry it will be alright this time next week?"
• "You've been here before you'll be ok?"

These are the hardest and the quickest to learn not to be vulnerable with as they don't understand that it's really hard to ask for anything. 

Positive situation

• "How are you?"
• "I'm so excited about X"
• "That's lovely"  

They change subject or look away or interrupt you mid sentence with there next observation or comment. In short no time has been given for your reply and you realise your going to have to transition with a cannon full of unexplained excited energy in the next period of time - sooooo hard. This will often result in shut down from me as I desperately try to filter and be interested in what's happening and fail. No closure....

These are just a few of the thoughts racing round my head as I'm asked  "how are you?"  

They are of course all thinking about the other person. There is of course where I'm at.

• Am I busy?
• Do I have time?
• Do I want to risk getting the answer wrong?
• Have I enough energy to get my words in the right order?
• How are my voices behaving?
• Are my voices shouting something different to what I want to say?
• Can I be bothered to talk at all as I'm not alright but know it needs to wait till I see my therapist?
• Should I put all mental stress to one side and blar blar blar????

And don't get me started on the complexity of group conversations!!!!!

"Carwen how are you?"

I stare blankly exhausted, "I'm ok". End of conversation 

I don't know why?

I am in one of the happiest places, I'm on holiday. The same hotel complex we have visited for the last six years. We are recognised by the staff and we all in turn know thier names. They have watched my children grow over the years from buggies to the now confident key caring independent selves.

It is a safe place. We all know what we can eat and where, what pool is what temperature and what restaurant plays the football. Yet amazingly there are still incredible things to be discovered, first times that neither I nor Zippy thought would happen.

Example 1.

Zippy and I are sharing a bedroom for the first time, not just sharing a room but we have zipped our single beds together! Zippy and I have swapped places - he has lost three stone and now does not snore and I have started to snore (LOL - I'm getting my own back).

Example 2.
I am wearing 'just a swimming costume!'. For those of you, who have been on holiday with me, will know I usually wear at least one pair of cycling shorts, one costume and a knee length dress.

It all amazing!!! It's all victories and moving forward moments. BUT! I need to be truthful to myself and have a blog rant to get tensions OUT!!!. Also because I can't be bothered to drink to relax as my liver hurts. Yes my liver is protesting or maybe it's my gallbladder (humph) so I need another way to go RAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! SO here goes!

I love swimming and playing catch with the kids. Finding myself switching ages, I get caught in different memories. Wearing Just a swimming costume, something I have not done since childhood, also messes with all my senses. I love it and feel free, the wind hugs you and the sun strokes you (body memories start to fight); Ages switch and flip through my brain and body.  

Back to the present those are my children, I am not a child. I organise everything, fold all the towels, make the bed, and clean the kitchen; my age returns. Then fear creeps around and I realise I have no control over my food but this year there is an abundance in our fridge, thanks to the lovely Mrs P, and we have food vouchers. I switch ages again and talk to all my selves reminding them we are all safe and will not go hungry. Coming back to 2016 I try to remeber what my children have eaten, what they might need to eat, whether thier behaviours are hunger based, over stimulated based or sleep needing. 

It would be lovely to get rid of all this ridiculous worry by having a pint of a large bicardi and coke, as this option is not available I leave you with the following;

What about sun screen?

When did we last all use sunscreen?

Check, check no one is burnt...

How many calories have we consumed?

What's the time?

Where in the day are we?

Who is with me now?

How old are you?

Where did you go?

Is there anything I can do to help you?

Climb back, climb back.... Don't run from each other, if we run we will just keep colliding, Who are you? Where are you from? How can I help you? Would you walk with me? Can I introduce you to my own children? Who are you? Where are you from? ...... Roll over!...... Oh it's just Zippy. That body heat is not a threat. That breathing is not going to kill you. In fact the heat is OK too. It's not going to be something you have to endure and survive... Walk with me my ages... Walk with me.... Let me walk with you in the heat that is to be enjoyed and celebrated and maybe I say thank you to me clever liver for helping us all dance through our panic and fear. All my ages, all my voices - we are safe! Let's rebuild and keep mapping a new memory path whilst respecting and grieving the old.

Multi-tasking

G

This morning I tried to brush my teeth at the kitchen sink whilst waiting for spotify to download and pick cabbage out the plug hole from last night's dinner. One voice was shouting "do one thing at at time", another "no she won't" and another "you must be more efficient!" and yet another " leave her alone" "give up give up"everyone was arguing and trying to get their point over as the winner of the situation.

Then like a blinding moment I travel back to boarding school and it was Wednesday. On Wednesday we had to change our sheets on our beds. We all panicked on a Wednesday morning 5:30am rushing to add an extra job into our already tight schedules.

Each dormitory had about thirty iron beds in it. In the mornings we used to take a quick walk to the toilets and back again (running forbidden and toilets being outside at the end of the dormitory blocks) then we would quickly march back to make beds with perfect hospital corners (exact floor to top of counter pain height). The fold under our pillows a certain depth and our pillows evenly plum flat on the lumpy mattresses. After that we had to dress perfectly in our uniforms. Socks were folded three times down our legs to create the perfect ankle and  shoes had to be shining collars folded at the right height at our necks. Our legs and arms had to be creamed to stop dry skin and our hair brushed so as to not let any touch our collars. After that our lockers and foot chests had to be pristine and neat. We would all then stand at the foot of the bed and wait for inspections. 

Now the hard thing about inspection was two fold. One was the ability to hear he matrons working there way through the other dormitories dolling out the daily punishments and ridiculing those who had not met expectation or had wet the bed. The other was the absolute panic to have your own dormitory ready. Did you risk helping those that were slower or unable to get the sheets flat and folded and be found away from your area. Did you try and help someone who clearly had hair loose, after all we did not have individual mirrors we only had a small 12x10inch mirror situated at the furthest end of the long rectangular room.

Then there were Wednesday when not only did you have to cope with all the above but you also had

to strip the bed and change the sheet. As  I have said before the majority of us struggled with Wednesdays. This morning however as I tried to be an octopus, getting cross with the toothpaste I had swallowed and the sliminess of the cabbage making (its so hard to grip), I realised what drove so much of the panic. I realised that although our whole day at boarding school relied on time; being on time, doing things in time, waiting for time to be over or a new part of the timed day to start. Nowhere do I ever remember seeing a clock except in the prep room and school hall, everything else was communicated by bell. I realised how much power that lack of clocks gave the teachers and matrons. After all what better way to put the fear of God into several hundred 5-11 year olds than to hold them accountable to something that they have no ability to manage. It meant that we never stopped working towards the aimed piece of everyday and if you did take a breath or had a little day dream it could come back and mean horrible consequences.

So back to the present day I say to myself it's now ok to do one thing at a time. Brush your teeth then get the cabbage out the sink and then download the album you want to hear. Nothing is chasing you anymore. You are now aloud to know time, manage time and plan in time.

Connections

I often wonder why I write these blogs?

I wonder what the purpose really is?

Some have asked me "but that's all behind you, why drag it up?". Some consider me to be attention seeking and making trouble. The phrase 'let the past be the past' can leave you feeling weak and stupid.

Originally I wrote because I wanted to learn how to write. A magical thing began, a blessing. I began to learn the peace of connection, explaining and giving meaning.

You see its all well and good if your past is in the past but for me my past was / is very much in my present, I am going to write quickly now in case I end up in a muddle. 

Imagine your a maths professor. Now imagine there was a maths formula you could not understand. You mull it over in your mind and think about it day and night (sometimes even when you don't want to) it haunts you. You seek solution to the formula by chatting with others who may help you read and research similar maths problems. You keep going until you have found the solution and then you have peace because you understand and have meaning for the formula. That formula then gets filed under 'understood'. Occasionally you are even in the position of being able to help another understand the formula in a quicker way than it took you, you enjoy the victory of understanding by connecting to others who have also understood the formula and can talk with you about other maths issues.