You could do with loosing some weight Ms Colour!

It was time to sign up with yet another new doctors surgery. Carwen opened the aluminium frosted door and made her way  over to the reception desk. "I have an appointment with the nurse" I asked. "Right" said what appeared to be a prepubesent member of staff "take a seat".

Twenty minutes later having been summoned to an overly bright practically empty room, Carwen sat staring at the blue lino and watched it glisten as she answered the routine barrage of questions.

Where do you live?

What medication are you on?

How old are you?

Is there a history of diabetes in your family? 

Are you allergic to anything?

When was your last tetanus?

Do you smoke? etc, etc

Then it came the moment she had really been dreading! "Ms Colour lets pop you on the scales". Having done the walk of shame several times over the past years, Carwen got up (silently pondering on whether to bother taking her shoes off or not). It wasn't a case of the outcome of the weight that worried her it was whether her feet might smell or leave a damp residue on top of the machine.  Her mind then flipped a little turn as she wondered if others had left their damp residue of skins cells on the rubbery surface and indeed how many?   Looking up briefly to at the nurse Carwen considered how the question "when was the last time these scales were cleaned and was a cheap W5 cleaning brand or a 99.9% antibacterial used?" would be received; she decided against making an issue.

Stepping on the plate as the digital dial whizzed upwards and ever upwards Carwen stared ahead in ambivalence. She knew exactly how much she weighed. Her brain triggered by the experience and she was zapped back to when she used to weigh herself four five six times a day. The days where going to the toilet or drinking out of and unknown teacup would require a 'check'. Indeed as she thought of the notebook after notebook she had kept over the years she probably had enough weights to plot a fairly impressive line graph on excel.

"Don't worry Ms Colour, worst is over now" smiled the nurse, "we  do need to just find out where you are on the BMI chart though so lets 'pop' you against the wall and get a height". Again silently Carwen moved towards the giraffe badly painted on the far wall, noting with irritation that it had been painted slightly lop sided. "shoes of please Ms Colour, there's quite a heel on those (pause) boots".

Sighing internally Carwen decided that the floor probably had a better chance of being clean than the scales and removed her shoes. She fixed her eye on the furthest wall so as to be most compliant in removing the nurse from personal space as soon as possible.

Height taken and back to sitting at the desk. "Right" said the nurse "you are..." she groaned and let out a breath whilst leaning over the wall chart to the right of her desk. "You are.... (yet more groans as her finger kept moving on deeper and deeper into the chart) "You are... right um well Ms Colour I'm afraid your right on the edge of overweight to obese".

Carwen smiled graciously, "yes". She thought again how over the years she had been on a roller coaster ride of BMI's . Times when she used to have to put a towel in the bottom of the bath so she could sit without hurting her coxic. When sleeping at night required a soft mattress and leaning on any type of wall or hard surface could only be momentary because it would make your bones ache.

"Would you say you had a lot of fats and sugar in your diet Ms Colour?" asked the nurse.

Carwen thought about this question. She thought about all the binges she had once rampaged through all the things she had consumed and then thrown up. She thought about how many rules she had impressed upon herself over the years:

No sugar

No Fat

No complex carbohydrate

Only green vegetables aloud

No artificial sweeteners

No sweetened juices

Only eat nuts 

Only eat salads

Never eat bread

Flour is of the devil it went on and on.

She thought now how she was at present living without any of those rules and how hard she had worked to break each fear down. Grinning and thinking of the doughnut she had shared with her children only last week (unthinkable a year ago) Carwen replied triumphantly " Yes I do have some sugars and fats in my diet". "ok well we will have to keep an eye on those won't we" said the nurse encouragingly,  "you have no idea of how much I will" thought Carwen.

"And would you say you drank as much water Ms Colour currently as the government recommends we should be drinking, eight large glasses a day". "Mmmmmmm" thought Carwen. She thought of how she used to go to Tesco once a week and fill a shopping trolley with 28 bottles of water making sure she drank four litres a day when in loosing weight mode and allowing herself to only have to drink 2litres on a maintenance  day as a treat to herself. She remembered days when the water drinking had been pushed to 5/6 litres and how that had ended up with her face and right arm going numb. Those days where it literally felt as if her body had internally drowned itself. "I drink the right amount of water now" she replied.

"Right I think Ms Colour that with the right amount of exercise and a healthy diet we should be aiming to get a couple of stone of you, If you can manage that then your risk of heart disease (amongst other things) will be greatly reduced."  Leaning back on her chair as if pleased with her synopsis the nurse gently brought the subject to a close by adding "is that something you feel you could achieve Ms Colour and do you have any questions?"

Carwen glanced at the wonky giraffe and tried to stop herself judging the exact angle it would require to put it right. Turning back towards the nurse her thoughts listed themselves into order. She knew she had come to her current weight because of an undiognosis under-active thyroid, all the yo yo dieting, plus a couple of pregnancies and after which she had refused to fall into old bad habits; she knew if she put her mind to it she could loose weight but that would mean letting all those rules back into her life. It was more important now to her that her children had a stable mum setting good examples. Over the last year she knew through the constant daily monitoring that she had not gained or lost any weight for almost six months. That for the first time since she could remember she was not on the treadmill of loosing or gaining. Carwen contemplated how although closer to possible heart disease, her brain stomach and intestines could now tolerate potatoes, starch and chocolate (wheat was still a demon).

Watching as the nurse tapped away on her computer Carwen congratulated herself on no longer using several chemists on a well thought out pattern so as to not be visited to often securing a constant supply of sypositries and laxatives, and replied "No I don't have any questions".

"Ok right then Ms Colour goodbye!". 

"Mmmmmmm" thought Carwen "goodbye". 

Air Zimbabwe advert.

I remember when this advert came out. It was the first air Zimbabwe campaign. We had just got a TV. Whenever the advert came on I would cry because I knew it was true. I knew that if you took all the awfulness and all the pain out of Africa, what was left was a beautiful incredible place. Forgive me this 80's indulgence.

http://youtu.be/LW_zsX3AzQA

Time

Life is an incredibly complex journey. Eaach day has section and sub sections within section. There are things you do aumatically/habitualy. Your brain filters and shifts "important/not important". Some how we remeber some parts and forget others.

In the past I would feel a sense of achievement  to get too the end of the day and have no idea what I had done. Switching enviroment also ment new a new begining. During the moment imbetween if things were going well I would feel a loss that they would not be remebered. If it was a bad day I would think to myself " as soon as you get to the end of this you will forget" those word where such a reassurance, because I knew them to be trustable.

Then there was my walkman. I plugged myself in at about 12yrs and they remain firmly in my ears till about two or three years into meeting Zippy at 23. I still use my headphones as one of the most effective destressing, anti ear banging, brain looping, tools I have. However they are now some thing that help me stay connected to the present instead of transporting me off into other spaces.

Sticking out

I once watched a series of you tube videos looking at how different communities embrace harsh experiences. For example if a whole set of people have experienced an earthquake then they journey together in the path to processing that experience and coming to terms with it. Everyone in the same boat wobbling along together, everyone having and giving support in the most basic form by just knowing what the other has experienced the same experience.

Similarly we at the moment in the UK have just been through the last few years of our banking system collapsing. Everyone has an opinion on it and has or knows someone that has been affected by the capital fear. Its a journey we as a country have travelled together and are still travelling together.

We have friends that work in the village in Romania (near the old orphanage which made us shudder on early 90s news headlines) and although divided in its opinions there is an understanding for those who grew up in the orphanage, there is a massive amount of unsaid communication as to what and why those individuals are the way they are. 

Boarding school.

I have had this blog in me me for a long time. This blog is about one of the schools I went to for about two years from around 8 and a half nine years old.

It was a boarding school in Zimbabwe.

It was the place that finally broke my anger.

It was a place that made me understand in the face absolute brokeness people can have no mercy.

It is a place that leaves me so silent, I cant ever imagine being able to explain.

That thick silence of unbelief swallows me now. So I  plant this seed of voice in this the smallest blog.

.......................................................

Part two

Boarding school Food

We had our food shared out by our dormitory prefect.To those who were favored much was given to those who were not our plates were not full.

Our parents were told we would be given snacks of two cups of milk a day and a piece of fruit and a sandwich in between meals. The reality was 1/4 of and inch of milk in the bottom of a mug twice a day, a quarter or sometimes half an orange, and a quarter or sometimes a half a jam sandwhich.

Being one of the unfavored a meal times ment I learnt like the other few to pick up the orange peels left on the ground and eat them. In school hours a major part of my thinking was taken up anticipating the humbling experience of begging food from the day scholars lunch boxes.

In the evenings I would hide in my bed and eat my toothpaste trying to create enough self control so as to leave enough for my teeth and not get found out. 

I was once asked were you greedy or hungry, the honest reply is I was probably comforting myself and hungry.

......................

Part three

Boarding school discipline.

Ours was a progressive school in that it did not constantly beat its children. Instead we were put into stress positions that would put fire through our bodies. This would always be done infront of the class. I was never sure which was more awful watching or being watched.

Recently I saw army prisoners in some of the positions we were put in. I bravely looked it up and found that these methods are used pre interigation to break a persons spirit.

...............................

Boarding school Conclusion

There is a understanding in me of something very deep. Some sort of fatalistic acceptance of disempowerment. Of knowing that there will be no mercy, that ur body must/ has to just get through it.

 Knowing that you will not get to leave, you will not get to run anywhere safe, that everyone you know has agreed this is the best place for you to be, and that you will be taken back. In that acceptance a part of you the hope part of you that believes anyone will rescue you or show compassion towards you dies and you just get on with it. you accept it.

Tiger and lion

When I was there: I told them I was from here.

And when I was here: I told them I was from there. 

But really I was from no where.

A no where child, with a no where way.

Making up the no where rules as she went along.

Tired feet now? where's the solid ground!

The no where child from the no where place now even more invisible. 

The no where child from the no where place can't be found.

Cry for the ground.

Cry for the solid soft place to be found

Can you wrap a tiger in a blanket, make a prowling lion safe

Maybe only with time and truth, which morphs into a thorny relationship of love.

It would be lovely to finish the story there 

Lion and tiger wrapped up safe free of fear.

But there is a life to be lived there are many years ahead.

The relationships like a roller coaster ride in the safe the tiger and lion try to abide

Primal energy pushing it all on the no where child the tiger and the lion surging on

Giving life a go dancing in the blue hunting in the black singing in the pink and resting in the flack.

Trigger Warning Shame.

 

What do you do if your world view is lived through spectacles of fear. Some one might say, "do you remember that holiday?" and the memory  leaps into your mind as, "DO YOU REMEMBER THAT HOLIDAY!!!" or a comment "What a lovely sunny day" and you interpret it as, "UNKNOWN SUNNY DAY!!!". Here another classic "we are going out today" and you spiral out of control "WHAT?  WHY?  WHERE? WHEN???".

As I have discussed in previous blogs my world view only came mostly from one point of origin  FEAR! and I want to break another littlle chunk of that " fear off" so here goes.

I first met frog face through a girl on the school bus. Two other girls and myself would go to smoke at her house. I was 13 and the others where 11. Soon frog face used to ask us to go and collect more cigarettes from different mens houses off the estate. The men would ask us to sit on their laps and watch TV with them, in return we would have earn our own packet of fags. Over a few months things escalated and frog face started to send my friends on thier own to collect cigeretts (and now money to).

I, having already developed a pretty soild freeze response to threat became pretty useless on these "collecting missions". I still have incredible memories of beiing frozen sat at certain tables unable to move whilst smelling and listening to noise. Often the noise would be my friend laughing and giggling, deep inside me these noise's would cut thru me like ice. I knew things where not right. The smells were wrong!

Soon frog face would not even send me, instead she would do what was called the "staring game".  You see frog face had another power she practiced white witchcraft and claimed to be psychic. Frog face introduced me to smoking skunk with her, I felt guilty but important. She would draw pictures with me and make me dinner at the weekends, she would meet me straight of the school bus and take me to the chip shop.

As you know I came from a strict brethren  type back ground. I was not just smoking but smoking drugs, I was listening to music and enjoying it!. I new my friends were in trouble but I couldn't help no matter how much I prayed and I knew this was because God was angry with me. I was selfish so my prayers ment nothing. To top it all my new friend was into whitch craft. The shame was over whelming. The serect grew and grew. So to did my thinking that frog face really cared for me. She would stare into my eyes and claim to have read my toughts. I knew my thoughts were of how sinful I truly was, how evil I had become. So Pretty early on I cried and frog face would hug me. Not just a quick hug but a hug that felt like it would never end, she would stroke my head and until my tears dried up and I felt safe.

I dont need to write what happen in the months after as Im sure you all understand, and this blog is not about that its about sticking my fingers up at shame! 

 Back then in that religous world there was only black and white, there were leaders, elders, prophets, and their judgement it absolute. Often their understanding was fairly flawed. Having already got  a  reputation of unruly angry behavior from about the age of two, I was in the dog house with the majority of most people's thinking. I already hated myself and my reactions. It came as no suprise to me that I had "fallen way beyond" the point of grace. 

I decided that God had given me a way to redeem myself, that because me body was alredy filthy it could be used until such times as frog face joined the church. I decied that this must be Gods way of saving frog face and if I could just hold out she would have a damacas experience and everything would be ok. We could then just be friends she wouldn't  need to do thoes things to me any more and I would have helped save her, bring her to the narrow path.

Frog face played on this she stole bibles and but them under her bed, she put a picture of Jesus on her bedroom door and kissed it regulary, she would cry and say how awful she was but that the devil had her in his grip. 

 

After a while I gave up, my spirit broke as her "rituals" started leaving marks on my body. It was as if she never left me not even at school. I bunked PE because I could no longer get changed. One day I got  of the school bus two stops after mine so frog face would think I was not on it. I sneaked home. I realised I was going to have to hide and let God down. I couldn't  wait for her to be saved any longer.

So the shame grew. I had now let God down again! the one chance I had to redeam myself gone. I hated myself, I was thoroughly  disgusting. Frog face continued to stalk me for six years until I moved to Nottingham. My only way to try and fight back was to sneak out in the middle of the night. I took the dog and a knife to try and kill her. So the shame grew I was now lusting after murder, there was no goodness left, my heart must be black. To counter act this horrendous realisation I decided it would be best if I could get raped. I knew people got help and understanding and forgiveness from the church if you got raped.  I would be able to keep frog face a secret but get forgiveness. All my behavior would be understood and I would be acceptable again. So I now wandered at night into every dodgy palce I could find, and I would cry because I was to dirty to even be raped no one came near me. God must be so cross with me. So the shame grew.

I write this now because as I said I want to stick two fingers up to shame, I still sometimes have the thought as people compliment me, but what if people found out you tried to kill? (although I now know that it wasnt my fault),  Well  to you horrid untruth, I stick two fingers up! because now everyone knows!