Missing Mojo

Whilst struggling to get to sleep last night, all i could think about was my current lack of mojo. A few people have commented to me recently how i need to go out more, do more, and it has made me realise how little i actually do, and how secluded i have become.

Currently i am signed off work by my doctor, but the time i spend at home is not the slightest bit productive. I have always wanted to be a writer, but i rarely write these days. Before i have always put this down to fear of failure, but now i just think i have withdrawn so far into myself that even writing, my biggest dream, my life times ambition, even that holds little motivation for me.

I used to have a wide circle of friends, and i would go out and socialise. Now i have one friend who i regularly see and keep in touch with, and he is awesome. But sometimes, when I'm with him, i will feel so disconnected from him, and i don't understand why.

Its the same with my family. Tonight, i am visiting my mother, and my brother will be there. And even though i am looking forward to seeing them both, already i can feel myself slipping into a state of mind where i am becoming numb, putting up shields and preparing a list of things that i could talk about, and i have nothing. I have done nothing to warrant conversation. So i will sit there, listen to both of their news, and i will withdraw even more into myself because i wont be able to relate to their comings and goings which in turn will make me feel invisible which will then make me not want to go round again because of how i ignored i feel when I'm there.

Which is really and utterly stupid.

The biggest problem i have at the moment is that even though i would like to be more social, quite frankly, people scare me. They never used to. But these days, even sitting on a bus i feel like everyone is staring at me and it really makes me uncomfortable, and i start to feel suffocated, and then i start panicking and then i want to run and flee and hide away from the world.

I've never really been any good at small talk. If people want to know about the weather, look outside, it doesn't need commenting on. Yes, you have a lovely dress, but you already know its lovely, or you wouldn't be wearing it.

None of this makes any sense to me. I never used to be this way.

I would love to be more like the person i used to be. I don't understand what happened to make me suddenly feel so inferior to everyone else. Because if i strip away all the confusion and emotion, that's what it all boils down too. Me feeling inferior. Me not feeling like i am worth anything good. Me not being deserving of good things and attention.

I do not know how to change this. I know i have people who love me, and they do their best to try and convince me i am worth something, that i have things to offer the world, that i have potential, that i am a good person worthy of good things.

But i just don't see what they see.

I do not know how to get out of this negative mindset. I do not know i can move forward with the current beliefs that i have, that i am convinced are true. So if any of you have any bright ideas, please let me know, as i am tired of feeling like i am just existing.

I want to live again.

No More Excuses!

It has been a few weeks since i wrote anything. Simple reason being i am hiding.

I am hiding from myself.

I have always been afraid that i will be a failure as a writer, and this fear stems from the fact that a writer is all i have ever wanted to be. From an early age i always enjoyed reading, and when i started high school this developed further into a love of writing, bringing my own creations to life on the page in a world so much brighter than our own. But as i have grown, i have been plagued with insecurity, with fear, with frustration. All at myself.

And for fear of copying what Josie over at Sleep is for the Week wrote recently, it is insecurity that my writing just isn't good enough, not interesting enough, not eloquent enough...

I'm afraid that i am a typical woman - i want things and i want them now! I am intelligent enough to know that what i want to achieve with my writing will take a lot of hard work and a lot of time, but at heart i am a dreamer, and live in a dreamers world. And its got to stop!

For fear of being a failure as a writer i have stopped myself from writing, thus in itself making me a failure.

Why should i care if people don't like what i write? I'm never going to please everyone and it is unrealistic of me to think i will.
Why should i assume people don't like what i write if they don't comment? Maybe they're just busy!
Why should i worry if people don't like what i write if it has been therapeutic for me? It is my blog after all.

No more excuses.

The writing starts here!

This was written for Josie's writing workshop #17 over at Sleep is for the Weak and i chose prompt 3 - "What excuses are you hiding behind at the moment?"

Reaching Out

Its that time again! Sleep is for the Weak has once more posted a weekly writing workshop and here is my effort! I chose prompt 5.

I'm not afriad anymore. Well, i am. I am absolutely petrified. But i cannot go on the way i have been.

For those who read my blog you will know 2 things: a, its very depressing to read haha, and b, im making an awful lot of changes right now.

You see, I was abused as a child. I have tried to deal with it previously, but i never seemed ready. Or i was too scared. I have seen three counsellors in the past, and i just couldnt connect to any of them. I felt like i was being judged every time. I didn't feel comfortable.

And for me thats a huge thing - needing to feel comfortable, to feel safe. It was a family member who abused me. Both my parents knew what he was like and still let him into our home. I have a lot of anger inside me, anger i am too afraid to show.

It has took me 16 years to get to where i am now. Still a mess, but stumbling along through life, trying to keep my head above water. I dont want to be me anymore. I dont want to wake up in the morning with tears in my eyes and a knot of anxiety in my stomach. I want to be the happy girl i used to be as a child, the confident little madam who was afraid of nothing, energetic, outgoing...

I don't want to be afraid anymore.

It's time for me to reach out.

Flashback Ramblings

Today I am feeling vulnerable. I’m not sure why. Perhaps it’s the meeting I have at work this afternoon? Or the travelling I will be doing this evening and being around people? Or that I am feeling drained from my lack of sleep? Though I am pretty sure it’s because of the flashback I had last night.

It’s strange, to suddenly see something that had been blocked for so long. It kind of just hits you, like a big whopping smack in the face. You take a step back… Did you really just see what you think you did? Remember what you think you did? Is it real? Did it really happen?

When it’s been blocked for so long, that flashback is like its happening for the first time. At least, in the first instant. Now I have had time to process it, I feel… actually I’m not quite sure how I am feeling. Except vulnerable. And on edge. At least it means that I am starting to deal with things and accept them. By remembering previous events it means I am opening up, and starting to come to terms with my past.

My head is fuzzy today. The Mini-Me I spoke of yesterday keeps hitting the chocolate button, the tea button, the hugs button… and shes damn well jumping up and down on the Ben button.

I need him. I need him like I’ve never needed him before. And I think that is only adding to my vulnerability right now. The nature of my flashback last night… I’m a little scared about having contact with Ben… not because I’m scared of the contact, but because I’m scared the contact will be a trigger for a panic attack, or another flashback.

Sometimes I wish I had never started this journey. Sometimes I think I was coping better with everything being locked away and just being a quiet, sad girl who liked to keep to herself. But there comes a stage in your life when you realise there is just so much more out there. I’m never going to see the world locked away in my room and hiding from everyone. I’m never going to live a life if I’m too consumed with my emotions to be able see the things passing before me.

To be able to deal with all the thoughts going on in my head I need to take a closer look at them. I need to be able to understand them. Then I can take steps to move past them.

It’s a lot harder than I thought it was going to be. I thought I had gotten myself into a position where I would be strong enough to cope with the things inside my head, strong enough to tackle them. I guess I was for the things I could remember… but these flashbacks are a whole new ball game, one of which I was not prepared for.

I’m anxious. I’m scared. I’m damn well petrified. What else have I buried so deep in my psyche that I can’t recall? Are these other banished memories going to jump out at me too?

I’m trying to keep a clear head, but I am struggling. My coping mechanisms are not exactly healthy ones, and I do not want to go back to being that way, to doing… that. But God it helped and now I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to vent my anger, I don’t know how to vent my frustration, I don’t know how to express myself.

And so I need Ben. I am safe when I am with Ben. Ben transports me to a place that I can only describe as heaven, for that little world we are in when we are together is just, well, heavenly. Its like the whole world doesn’t exist anymore – it is just us. I don’t have to worry about the real world, my problems, my stresses. I don’t have to worry about trying to keep a brave face on for the world, trying to be happy when I’m clearly not.

For Ben sees me. Really sees me. And he understands. And he accepts me for who I am and has never once tried to change me.

Stranger in the Night

I can remember those nights
That you'd sneak into my room
You'd creep across the floor
And above my bed you would loom

I can remember the fear
As you would sit beside me
And under the bed clothes
Your hands would roam free

The smile on your face
Was the opposite of my fright
As you loomed above my bed
In the middle of the night

Nobody knew
What you were doing to me
When under the bed clothes
Your hands would roam free

I never udnerstood
That what you were doing was wrong
But now i know it was
I must try and be strong

I won't let you destroy me
I will remain sane and in health
But so that you know in the mean time
Keep your hands to yourself

A New Beginning

As everyone seems to do at New Year, I have made a resolution that I hope I can keep. It is one I touched on before Christmas, about trying to be more positive, trying harder, being more confident, trying to be a better person etc.

It’s a New Year. It is time for a fresh start.

2009 was not a very good year for me. (Apart from the whole meeting Ben thing of course – because that has got to be the best thing that has ever happened to me and I mean that from the bottom of my heart.) But aside from meeting Ben, the rest of the year was pretty shitty for a whole bunch of various reasons. But I have taken steps to improve my life, and get the help that I have needed for a long while.

I have started seeing an Occupational Therapist, after a discussion with a mental health professional this seemed the best way forward for me. My anti depressant has been increased to the maximum dose, which although has stabilised my mood, I constantly feel sick which isn’t a nice side effect but ho hum. I have extra support at work from an outside company which has negotiated with my employer over my mental health to make sure that I am not taken advantage of or bullied or.. or anything else. I have the offer of my own tenancy with the council – my own space without all the stresses and arguments I’ve been having with my family. Though they are still taking their sweet time about it all as they still don’t have the keys and I’ve not even seen the place yet! Grrr! But when I do get to move in, I will have something called tenancy support which will be someone coming in once a week to help me with things like budgeting, learning to cook and general issues I may be having which will be a huge help to me.

But aside from all this support I have, the biggest thing is yet to come – and that starts this Friday. Because of my history, and the fact that I have never really dealt with it, I have signed up for a therapy group for survivors of sexual abuse. It is going to be a fortnightly session on a Friday morning and will last about an hour and a half or so. And I am starting to get really really anxious about the whole thing. I’m trying not to worry about it too much as I am trying to keep to my resolution to stop worrying so much and to think more positively – this therapy can only be a good thing for me surely?

It will help me no end to meet people who have been through what I have. To finally be able to communicate with people who understand all the thoughts inside my head without thinking I am a freak. To understand my guilt, my confusion, my fear… Admittedly, I know that this will be a hard journey for me to start, as dealing with my issues means facing them and reliving them – but I have my friends, I have Ben, and I know they will be there for me when I need them.

I am not afraid to face this anymore.

Realisation

I attempted another of Josie's prompts down at the Writing Workshop this week. I chose option 3, "write about a dream you've had recently".

The original post can be found here:

http://sleepisfortheweak.org.uk/2009/11/30/writing-workshop-7-claims-to-fame-and-guilty-pleasures/

My dream...

Me and Ben were trying to get pregnant. We had been trying for months with no success. We had gone to the hospital for IVF and it was the day of our results, to see if the pregnancy had taken. I clutched my tummy tightly, as though i already knew there was a new life growing inside me. We walked into the doctors office, i was holding on to Bens hand so tightly... The doctor was smiling, waving a sheet of paper in his hand. Test results had come back - I was pregnant!

We spent the next few weeks doing the things every new parent does... thinking of names, looking at baby clothes, and it was such a wonderful time in my life. And then it happened. I woke up in the middle of the night, a horrible pain in my tummy. I could feel the blood between my legs and even before i got the the bathroom i knew... i had lost the baby. I was devastated.

I woke up crying. It had been a while since a dream had affected me so deeply. I guess this dream was a little too close to home.

With me suffering from PCOS, the chances of me getting pregnant are less than normal due to my infrequent monthlies. And with this condition the risk of miscarriage is also increased. When i was about 17 or 18, i had decided i wanted 5 children - 3 boys, 2 girls. I had even picked their names. Then when i was diagnosed with PCOS at 18 and discovered that my chances to become pregnant were slim, i decided i didn't want children, that i hated children and that they were all spawn of the devil. A very extreme defensive mechanism me thinks! But it lasted me till now, i had convinced myself that i didn't want children, that i couldnt go through the heartache of trying and failing to become pregnant, or suffer through the agony of saving for IVF and it not working. It was easier to walk away from something i so desperately wanted.

This dream made me realise i have been kidding myself. My desire for children is still there, still deep inside me. I still want a big family, still want to see lots of happy faces round the Christmas tree each year...

But what if i can't become pregnant when the time comes? What if i miss-carry? What if i am never able to have children?

I have been a failiure in many things in my twenty six years, i do not want to fail at being a woman.

What Not To Do When Being Burgled...

If you realised you had a burglar in your house, what would you do? Call the police? Turn a light on? Make some noise to alert the criminals to your presence? Send the dog downstairs to scare them off? Shake fearfully under your duvet and hope they go away? I'm sure any sensible person would have done one of the above.

So what did i do when last night i realised there were strangers in the house? Yep, you guessed it - none of the above. Stupidly i did the following...

I realised they were in the kitchen, which is right underneath my bedroom. So i opened my window, leaned out as far as i could so they would be able to hear me and shouted:

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE YOU BUNCH OF SCABROTS BEFORE I CALL THE POLICE!"

Yes, i used the word scabrot. What does that even mean!?

Surprisingly, i didn't get stabbed, or shot, or have anything stolen. The two teenagers that entered my house seemed to notice the anger in my voice and scurried off as quickly as they could, heaving themselves back out the kitchen window and stumbling and tripping over the mines in the garden that are Riley's squeaky toys. It was actually quite a comical getaway.

Shortly after the teenage crooks left the premises my adrenaline began to wear off, and the cough that has tortured me for the last God knows how long began to kick in. And i mean kick. I was coughing so much that i could hardly breathe, and that is a very frightening feeling. I began to panic. I tried using the inhaler that ive been given by my doctor but i was all fumbly and couldn't hold the silly thing in my shaking hands, never mind attempt to actually use it. My head was spinning, my heart was racing, my hole body was shaking and i'm still desperately trying to catch my breath.

Ten minutes later when my panic attack stops and i have managed to calm myself down, i use the inhaler, have a glass of water, and go back to bed. At this point, i am exhausted. Panic attacks always wear me down, they litterally drain the life out of me. Thankfully i don't have them as much as i used to do!

So there i was, lying in my bed all warm and comfy and then it hits me - i nearly got burgled. I am all alone. There were strangers in my house. I am all alone. Anything could have happened. I am all alone...

Roll on panic attack number two.

Needless to say it has been a very long night. When i got out of bed this morning at half past eight all i could manage to do was crawl to the bathroom and throw up. Curse these nerves of mine! At least now i am calmer and can focus properly on the day ahead. I have gone through the motions of adrenaline, realisation, fear, guilt, and now i'm just angry. Bastards in my house, how dare they! Little shits will get a good kick up the arse if i see them near this house again!

*shakes fist with vigour*

Josie's writing workshop

A blog recently recommended to me by my closest friend does a weekly writing workshop, so this week i figured i would take up the challenge.

The initial post can be found here:

http://sleepisfortheweak.org.uk/2009/11/16/writing-prompts-5-were-back-in-business-baby/

And my offering, can be found here! I opted for option 5, "write about a deep, dark fear" and here is what i ended up with. The conclusion quite suprised me. I thought my deepest fear was something else, but alas not...

Fear

I am covered in scars
Each one has a meaning
Scars that refuse to heal
I am emotionally bleeding
My heart is a jigsaw
Many peices, broken
Stuck together, fragile
Due to actions left unspoken
I need the glue to fix me
I cannot break again
I will not be the fool
I will not take the pain
I beg you not to hurt me
I beg you to hold me dear
For loosing you would finish me
And that's my biggest fear