Please dear head let body be found.

I have a very powerful head

It helps keep my body in check

But the time has come no longer can we share

This power distribution of dominate  head down fear

Head you must back off and let body be

For it to has a right to feel

It has a right to have its space

Although it may need your help to get to this place

So dear head would you please be less arrogant and proud

Please dear head allow body to be found.

Let me tell you about body my dear mind

It took the physical brunt of a lot of unkind

And yes I know you intentions were good

You cut body off because a plate of pain is not good food

But brain you are strong you have looked after us well

It's time dear brain to let body also dwell.

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".

scared of myself

I have realised this morning, as I woke up and yet again fought to get out of bed, fought to sit whilst my beautiful kids eat toast, fought the thoughts the anticipation of a busy weekend, that I scared of myself.  From my earliest days I can remember my sister being scared of me, children a school backing away from me. Prefects and matrons punishing me to try and subju me. There was one year that I visited any church I could find who were into the holy spirit movement to get them to pray for me, I would show them what was in me and they would cast 'it out'. 

Multi-tasking

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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.

Festival

IHere I sit in external overwhelme

The forces that permeate me are not of my doing

They are safe

They are the bass

They are the deep bass

They are fire smoke and lights

They are mud they are all the extremes

Bass bass bass drown me bass bass bass hold my frame

This world is not a real world

It's temporary songs from the old songs from the new

Buts it's All in the All-ness sense nothing left out

I'm aloud everything to relax

I lie in the light

Carry my soul on the bass

I feel the sun the rain the wind the darkness and the light to hold me

I am at a festival

I relax because it is all bigger than a the multi big parts of me could ever be 

Extreme..... Change your mind look around you, change your mind it will astound you .

I NEED YOUR LOVING LIKE THE SUNSHINE!!!!!! XXXX 

Regulation

I asked a friend last night to write a blog as she hadn't in a long time and now take my own advice. As I'm sure the whole country knows, we have just had the summer holidays. Now I enjoy my kids being off,  enjoy being able to travel, love seeing friends and sitting in the sun. I relish experiencing new things as the kids get older and this year we have reached a stage where we can all ride a bike on the road.

But as someone who also struggles with my brain the summer holidays present another challenge. My therapist is on holiday to which means the ability to upload offload discuss how situations can or are being handled is not there. I usually see this as a chance to put into practise all the things I have  learnt over the previous months, I see it as a marker as to how well me myself and my others are getting on and co operating with each other. I like to see how well we can remain in the present and not be swallowed by past flashbacks or future anxiety.

Films one and two.

 One year a very important event happened. I think I was about nine. Our church farm was going to be sent two films. Naturally we were all excited! We were one of the fortunate families in Zimbabwe to have a Betamax video and occasionally we would go to drive in movies. These films however were going to be for everybody. Even better than that these films were apparently going to

help save people. Now you didn't have to go a hundred metres to realise that there was a lot of saving to be done. As a country we were three years into a six years drought and our dam was drying up, the crops needed rain, people were getting extremely thin and our cows were being rationed for their dried husks.

I was so excited we were taken to our church building on town after dark and the little hall became rammed. The Pilgrims Progress began. However as Christine stumbled through his journey I didn't understand it at all and it just became more and more upsetting; he was having a horrible time and even when he was doing things that he thought would make him happy - they even end up hurting him. My stomach twisted more and more and I cried. It was a horrible film! I couldn't understand how on earth it was going to help anyone.