A catalogue of the unexpected

I haven't blogged for a while. To those of you who follow I apologise.  I have moved house and started a new job.  Followers will recall that much medical advice counseled against this move but my employers insisted and so it happened - simple as that.

I have to report that whilst the move was fairly traumatic (aren't they all) it has been completed minus a few boxes and electrical items that need wiring/connecting etc.  Oh yes, by the way, 'careful movers' is an oxymoron!

The people I work with on a daily basis have made me so welcome I have been quite overwhelmed. There are many challenges ahead but a challenge in my new work environment is beginning to feel a maybe rather than an impossible.  I didn't think I would be able to record such an analysis only 4 days in but I have to be honest and I will continue to be so.

What has been unexpectedly difficult is the treatment I have received from someone whom I would have thought was best placed and most willing to help and support me - apart from myself that is, for I am the main player in my continuing recovery.  I can't really say too much about this so I will have to put up the famous 19th Century social novelist umbrella and say 'let the reader understand'.  What should the reader understand?  That it is unreasonable, uncharitable and downright cruel to dismiss the heartfelt words of someone who was a mental health patient on the grounds that their judgment is, by definition, flawed.  My judgment is sometimes inaccurate and inappropriate, I am still getting better.  But, dear friends, let me tell you something - this is an occasional occurrence not a routine one and it is simply wrong, plain wrong, to disregard someone's feelings using their perceived mental health as an automatic and instant nullification of those feelings.  After all, I am awake now but that doesn't make me an insomniac!  All attempts at discussion and debate are stymied and this is distressing.

However, God does move in a mysterious way and this move has curiously enabled me to lean on someone whose judgment I trust, whose closeness I tresaure and who treats me like the human being I am.  Am I getting maudlin?  Not at all but I am going to make two observations.  First, the initial difficulties with my new job (and the personalities I would meet) which I feared have not materialised, quite the reverse.  Yes I have the same old anxieties about financial security, especially for my sons, but I am hoping to take heart from recent positive experiences and feed them into this long standing issue to reassure myself a little.  Second, love is often found not where you expect it but it's no less real for that; even if it's geographically distant.

In a nutshell, I have done better than I expected.  My old anxieties remain prevalent and distressing and whilst comfort and support ought to have come from a particular source, even though it has not, I am moved and privileged to have been blessed with a closeness to a person who neither judges nor discourages but who has the innate gift to love and nurture me as I am, sometimes holding my hand along the way, even from a distance.  God Bless you, you know who you are.

Inadequate - despite the view

I have had a week away to reflect, to read and to pray.  For a million reasons it was a wonderful week - wonderful encounters, laughter, sea air and always a beautiful view.  But now I have to return and face the reality that is what we call 'now'.  It's tough.  I probably should have read more, a lot more, I probably should have prayed more, a lot more.  I had a rest from physically strenuous exercise and just spent time walking my dog every day.  I enjoyed fish and chips - who doesn't?

However, I feel inadequate to deal with some of the reflections that have come back at me.  It is this feeling of inadequacy that leads me to hand over the rest of this blog to a quotation.  Nelson Mandela used these words in 1994.  Although some dispute the authorship, frankly, it doesn't seem to matter.  I think he did say this and it seems exactly the kind of thing he would say.  So, for all, who like me, feel inadequate - take this!

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

Doing the 'opposite'

As I read back over yesterday's post I am struck by a few things.  None of them are particularly positive.  That is to say as I read over the text I  observe a 'me' I don't like very much.  I blogged truthfully, I said what I felt and I felt what I said but nevertheless I am left with a strong feeling that I have painted a picture of myself that is none too pretty - for the first time since I began my blog I feel I have presented myself as a little self-indulgent, an impression of self-pity.

That was not my intention and if anyone else read it that way please accept my apologies.  And to those who left comments (here and on facebook) thank you - thank you for replying as honestly as I tried to blog.

As a result of these reflections I have tried to get up with a more positive attitude.  Those who struggle with depression and anxiety know that is very easy to say and very difficult to do. The deeper the anxiety the more difficult it is to challenge.

Followers of this blog know I have to move house because my job in the army has changed and the second word of 'posting order' is 'order'!  Is morale low - yes.  Is the move this time a fearful event (at least in my mind) - yes, of course it is!  But I have taken on board some excellent (but frankly terrifying) advice given to me by my psychologist - to treat my anxiety almost as a person.  And when feeling low (as I have been lately, in particular, worrying about my son - student loan, job prospects etc. - despite the advice and assurance of those who know us both who say my anxiety is almost certainly unfounded) to do the opposite of what the anxiety expects and demands of me.

What did it demand of me this morning?  To give up, not bother and do nothing.  Oh yes, let's not forget a large measure of self-pity thrown into today's 'misery pot'!

So I've tried to follow the advice I have been given.  I got up - well, come on, it's a good start.  I've been outside all day in the fresh air although the sun has been mostly cloud hidden.  I've got a lot of practical things done ready to move and I can see the results of my labour.

Most importantly doing the 'opposite' has made me feel a lot more positive.  Simple as.  My hope and my prayer is that this may encourage me to believe that my anxieties are unfounded and I start to feel better about myself with a degree of consistency.

Guilt trip

As predicted the anxiety is fighting back.  Boy is it fighting back.  I have followed the advice of my psychologist (almost) to the letter.  Still it bites back but she warned me it would.

I had another good day during the week.  This morning felt very positive but the anxiety and the feelings that accompany it are more persistent than the techniques I am developing to challenge it.  This is, to be truthful, frustrating and upsetting.

I am also struggling with guilt, a lot of guilt.  Here's the best example.  I have often spoken of the anxiety that I feel on behalf of my eldest son now reading for his music degree.  I help him quite a lot but he will still leave university with three years of tuition fees and three years of maintenance loan altogether.  Helping him as we do keeps it down quite significantly for him but I don't feel I am doing nearly enough.

So here's the immediate rub.  I own a motorcycle.  She's my pride and joy but I find little pleasure in owning the 'bike any more for one simple reason - I could sell her and give my son the money and it would pay a year's tuition fees for him bringing his loan down by about 3.5k.  He once overheard me speak of this and reminded me that I was entitled to some pleasure in my life and under no circumstances was I to sell it.  However, because of the feelings I have right now each journey on the 'bike is a real 'guilt trip'

But the anxiety is biting back big style and the accompanying guilt is hard to bear.  If I sell her it will be a sadness to me if I don’t sell her I will feel I have failed my son and could have done a lot more.  I guess that is the illness speaking but I don't know what to do.  I think that the anxiety is generating additional feelings of confusion which acts as further fuel for the anxiety.

So that is today, here and now, simply and straightforwardly expressed.  If anyone does read this I would, seriously, like to know what you think.  Right now I can think those things for myself.

Sunshine, skylarks and psychology

I am very happy to report that I've had two good days in a row.  I feel much more positive and thus more in control; rather than the constant checking that goes with my anxiety creating what has been called 'the illusion of control'.  So that's a positive start and I am pleased to be able to begin a blog in this way.  The sun really has come out again!

I have been marvelling at the God given beauty around me- it's like free SSRI medication without side effects!.  I went for my run at lunch time with the sun in my face and skylarks singing beautifully and soaring majestically as I ran out into the countryside.

The insights and intervention of my psychologist (whom I asked the medical team to allow me to see for two years before it finally happened) have been at worst uncomfortably challenging and at best ground breaking; probably not ground breaking for her but for me most definitely.  I am tempted to say to my medical team 'I told you so' and 'if only I'd been allowed to see her sooner' but that seems pointless and rather puerile now even if both comments are reasonable and fair minded observations.  To be absolutely fair, my present CPN pushed hard for this and made it happen; his friendship means a great deal to me.

I cannot say that I have lost my anxiety and the fears which characterise them - I have not.  But I hope I can learn to accept the evidence that they are almost certainly unfounded and to do so consistently.  If I can achieve that level of consistency the quality of my life will improve dramatically.

I am not under any illusions that just like fighting insurgency the counter insurgency strikes back - my psychologist has warned me this will definitely happen.  The core beliefs which appear to feed my 'issues' (as my sons refer to them when they tease me, which is very healthy) will strike back.  But now I am beginning to see that there just might be a long term easing of this closely followed by empirical evidence that my worries, almost always about financial matters whether it be my sons' student loans and job prospects or my pension when I leave the Armed Forces, are unfounded and always were unfounded.

I feel progress has been made.  I am not naive, however, and anticipate counter-attacks and set backs.  For now though there is more hope and encouragament than I would have thought possible at the time of my last blog.

The chocolate box of life

One of my favourite sayings goes like this: 'In the chocolate box of life, not every day is a marzipan fancy'. Of course you may not like marzipan as much as I do, if at all, but I could eat it, as they say, 'until the cows come home'. Nevertheless the saying can be applied to all of our lives and mental health doesn't have to be your toffee hard centre (you know the one that always wraps itself around the inner recesses of your mouth before coming away with one of your biggest dental fillings attached) for it to be apposite.

I have become conscious that I now seem to blog only on marzipan fancy or toffee hard centre days. I accept it's a good thing to share more positive reportage and cathartic for the writer to share the worst and darkest of experiences but most days, for most people, most of the time, are neither marzipan fancies or toffee hard centres - perhaps, to pursue the analogy a little further, most days are like a caramel or coffee cream, acceptable enough but not at the top or bottom of the favourites list.

My life is little different but it often feels very different. I have realised I am not suffering from depression (although like everyone I have my 'down in the dumps' days) but anxiety. Yesterday I read a surprising statistic - although approximately 25% of the population suffer some form of mental health issue, only 5% of people struggle with anxiety. Not only is anxiety a lonely experience (mainly because other people seem to wonder ‘what have you got to be anxious about’) it often feels that whilst every chocolate in the box looks tasty and inviting, underneath the attractive exterior, every offering has a hard centre that will remove your fillings painfully, one at a time.

Because my anxieties centre (almost exclusively) on financial matters (either my own situation or the future situation for my sons) there are so many triggers, so many chocolates in the box to select and discover the painful hard centre. It may be a sign advertising the price of fuel on a garage forecourt or a dramatic headline in a newspaper - although recent experience has taught me that even the so called 'quality' papers are writing headlines to sell papers that seem to bear little relationship to the article itself; the anxiety generated by this is hugely problematic for me.

None of the things I have been anxious about have actually come to pass or if they have I have dealt with them far more easily than I anticipated. Despite this I am still caught in the middle of an absolute conviction that all my anxieties are true or abut to come true; as though I am stood over my metaphorical box of chocolates looking at the marzipan fancies knowing, yes knowing, that it only looks like a marzipan fancy whilst inside awaits a hard and painful centre.

This is the reality of anxiety for me on a daily basis. I wish it were different. I have been especially anxious lately about my sons and their future prospects. They are intelligent, articulate, polite, well turned out, motivated and are becoming increasingly well educated at well known and respected educational institutions. They have wide interests and abilities in non-academic disciplines making them attractive to future employers. This particular chocolate box has been mostly filled with marzipan fancies with the odd hard centre (like student loans - just as it is for all students) thrown in because that is what life is like. Despite the assurance of someone very close to me that my sons 'will make liars of those anxieties' (and yes, I’d happily take that), to me, this vicarious chocolate box is deceiving me as efficiently as my own - it's full of hard centres.

The sad thing is when you think you only have hard centres to choose from you would rather elect not to choose one at all. This significantly impairs the quality of daily life and is of considerable sadness to me.

Nevertheless, I still refuse to feel sorry for myself and I am continuing to work on those things that help me try to see that there are more marzipan fancies than I care to believe. Not only that, God willing, there will continue to be.

The fear of choking on a 'hard centre' continues to be real and intrusive - 'anxiety' has its roots in the Latin verb angere meaning 'to choke'. For those of you reading this and wondering what is all the fuss about anxiety( 'just have a word with yourself' or 'get a grip', both of which have been said to me by various people on a regular basis), I leave you with some words that might help illuminate the understanding and increase the acceptance a little more. They are not my words but those of Mignon McLaughlin (how ironic that her surname contains the verb 'laugh') the American journalist and author who died in 1983.

Love looks forward,

hate looks back, 

anxiety has eyes all over its head.

The Dark Night of the Soul

It's three weeks since my last blog when I asked if there was a light at the end of the tunnel.  I still feel the peace I seek is elusive, in fact more elusive than ever.  As those of you following this blog know, my employers have insisted I move in July.  The move is proving to introduce so many layers to my anxiety I am finding it unbearable.

My wife will have to leave her job and as a civil servant there is little prosepct of anything new for a while.  She hates her job though, so on a personal level this may be positive and she may receive a small lump sum for leaving early.

We all have to pay a bit more tax and National Insurance from April.  It looks like the new military accommodation we have been allocated is a lot smaller than we live in now and quite a lot more money.

Add to this the concern over military pensions introduced by the Hutton Report (although it will not be until 2015 at earliest and for the military likely not even then producing minimal impact) and it feels as though it is, simply put, one thing after another.

This is not a whinge it's just the way I feel and I feel rough.  I do Moodscope everyday now - see the link on the right.  I only scored 8% today.

So this is a simple update on how I am feeling, the uncertainty I am encountering and an honest appraisal that I feel utterly overwhelmed.

Sorry but this is just the way it is.  As an understanding friend of mine put it, it is a 'dark night of the soul'.  It feels as though he is right.