Why do you have to be so mean?

This week I have come across what can only described as 'hatred' for people with Borderline Personality Disorder. It shocked me. Don't get me wrong, years ago, before I was diagnosed with BPD, I used to work in the Criminal Justice System, and my specialism was Mentally Disordered Offenders, the majority of whom were diagnosed with some form of Personality Disorder.So, I was aware of negative attitudes to people with Mental Illnesses, and in particular, those with diagnoses of PD.

My colleagues used to groan if case notes included the dreaded BPD diagnosis. 1) because people with BPD are 'difficult' 2) because at the time, BPD was considered 'untreatable' by local NHS Trusts and refused to admit even suicidal cases 3) because there was a high likelihood of suicide/self harm from this 'group'. In short I believe BPD sufferers as a group have received and continue to receive a bad press from a number of sources.

I found that being consistent and listening closely to what was being said to me, often helped me to manage my cases, in other words: compassionately treating people, regardless of labels, as if they were human beings seemed to work. (not rocket science is it?)

Anyway, back to the guy who has obviously had a bad relationship with someone with BPD. His take was that BPD doesn't deserve to be treated as a mental illness, but is just down us being some kind of 'crazy ass' (his words). He even managed to intimate that the abusive backgrounds of a large number of people with BPD was actually the fault of the victims. Initially I felt defensive of myself and others who have suffered from what some describe as 'emotional sensitivity' rather than BPD. Then I considered that perhaps, following a messy break up (I've been involved in my fair share of those!) his anger was robbing him of his humanity. Which is understandable.

How do I respond to his point that I'm just an emotional mess? That I do not deserve treatment? Well, I think that I would point him to Marsha Linehan's (the creator of Dialectical Behaviour Therapy for BPD) explanation of BPD as equivalent to suffering 3rd degree burns.

Imagine suffering emotional and psychological pain that is so deep and so painful that the only solution you can think of is either to inflict physical pain to distract from it, or to believe that dying is the only way to stop it? Does that sound like something that you could sustain while maintaining a functional life? Yet many sufferers of BPD do manage to do just that, while holding down very respectable jobs and being creative and dynamic in certain spheres. This 'apparent competence' in certain spheres, my BPD-hating 'friend' points out as proof that BPD is made up by selfish women seeking to justify messy love lives and as an excuse to be nasty to men.

I think at this point we can recognise the ignorance and stigma evidenced here towards Mental illness in general. I mean you can't possibly run a country with a severely debilitating clinical depression, can you? Winston Churchill, anyone? Just because my professionalism and training allow me to carry out a job from 9-5 does not mean that the emotional distress I am experiencing is not real and does not have an impact on my mental and physical health.

If I may, I need to return to the burns analogy, even when time allows a skin to grow over the burned area, there remains a sensitivity that often never leaves. The levels of abuse I suffered as a child have left me with emotional and psychological scars. My diagnosis whilst not perfect, has allowed me to access help to develop skills which mean that I no longer consider death to be a solution. My treatment means that I am able to begin to 'function' again, after a complete breakdown two years ago.

I am responsible for the people I may have hurt throughout my life. I would say, though, if you rip the dressing off a burns victim, you can expect a strong reaction! My plea is: try to listen, try to understand, try to give space, and, if you think you are too angry or too hurt to see the human behind the label, make it a clean break.

http://bpdlifeinthemoment.blogspot.co.uk/

Help I can't be Mindful, because my Mind is Full...

As I have moved through my recovery I am noticing that my mind is swinging from being full of 'cotton wool' to being full of ideas and thoughts to keep me 'occupied'. It is only in the last couple of days, and a few weeks of disrupted sleep patterns, that I have recognised that it is becoming an obstacle to me practising mindfulness. So I'm going back to the basics of Mindfulness to move from Mind Full to being Mindful...

1) The first thing is to notice that my mind is crammed. And to notice that these thoughts, a lot of them 'worry thoughts', are preventing me from seeing the positives around me at the moment. My Therapist did an exercise with me using my interlaced fingers to help me realise that the 'wall of thoughts' is preventing me from living in the moment, simply because I cannot see anything beyond these thoughts. So I need to let go of them and not stop with noticing the wall of thinking in front of my eyes.

2) Practice the exercises which allow me to diffuse thoughts and feelings - I use my safe place (a river bank in the Yorkshire Dales) and my thoughts attach to the leaves on a tree overhanging the river. I watch as they detach, float down onto the river and let the flow of the water take the thoughts away. At the moment, because I am in a 'hyper' mood I need to begin with focusing my mind by mindful breathing.

3) I need to be aware that activity is not validating on its own - where does my real validation come from? Can I accept myself as I am, that I am worth something without a paid role? This is an ongoing battle and is critical and foundational to my long term recovery. Self compassion and self acceptance, again, are something that I have to practice. So I am using self soothe, and some mindfulness exercises based on 'Loving Kindness' that I've downloaded from t'internet.

The human mind is an amazing gift, but it needs to 'tamed' and brought into line with life as it is, right now, so that it is not getting in the way of my enjoying the present.

DBT PLEASE Skills - my latest challenge

I've got myself into bad habits - again. My Therapist even admitted to having a 'judgemental' thought when I told her my average sleep over the past three weeks has been between 3 and 4 hours. I know, I know, Churchill and Thatcher - but I'm a definite 7-8 hours a night woman myself. When I don't get enough sleep everything starts to go 'weird'. My emotions and thinking become befuddled - not unlike the sensation of being drunk or on sedative drugs. This would be fine if I wasn't trying to manage the emotional instability of BPD. Why? Why is it so hard for me to look after the most basic of my needs? I would think judgementally about myself too - I mean I'm one appointment away from discharge! And I've been doing really well.

I don't have a definitive answer. Except that my mind has been so free from negative, circular, black and white thinking that I have been 'buzzing' off a fresh creative surge which usually emerges around the end of the Evening News. This I am beginning to recognise is also part of my BPD. Part of the swing in moods between negative and positive. The other, deeper and therefore avoided reason is my lack of basic self care. I am still working on believing that I am worth looking after.

So, just as I would apply DBT skills to managing negative thinking I need to use the same skills to manage my more 'manic' phases. They too come in waves, and they reach a crescendo before receding. If I can manage the 'ups' without self destructing, then I will have learned even more about a balanced and stable life. Above all other skills the emotion regulation skills are needed right now. I need to manage my sleep patterns, have routines and eat regularly. So basic, but so necessary.

So this week I will be mostly working on my PLEASE skills. (P&L - treat Physical ILlness, Eating, Avoid mood altering substances, Sleep and Exercise)

Taking off the Training Wheels

I've never liked endings. That's because I've always been very bad at them. In the past, due to the 'push-me, pull-you' emotions of BPD I'd never managed to maintain any relationship for longer than three years. So when my CPN and DBT Therapist are giving me actual dates for 'discharge' my natural suspicion of my ability to cope raises its ugly head. Especially as I started working with my CPN in 2010.

It's not that this is a shock. After all, from day one on DBT they prepare you for life after DBT and emphasise the fact that the therapy will end. The problem is that most of my endings in my life have been accompanied by some form of relationship, or other, trauma. To be honest, one of things I am getting used to is the lack of trauma in this ending. I mean, suddenly I am aware that I am coping better with all sorts of new experiences - stable friendships and lack of crisis in my family relationships. Or should I say, I am not allowing my emotions about these relationships to overwhelm me - one result of the DBT skills I have learned and practised over the past 18 months.

I still have anxiety about the future - will I ever be employable? When treatment ends, will I continue with my recovery? How do I cope with the realisation that some very key relationships with my CPN and Therapist are ending? I'm bound to have anxieties because I have never travelled this road before and certainly never been equipped with the tools to manage my overwhelming responses to the world before.

What I have learned is 'do not worry about tomorrow, because today has enough troubles of its own' (Matthew Chap 6 v 34 The Sermon on the Mount). Rather than racing ahead in anticipation of everything coming crashing in round my ears, as it has so many times in the past, I have learned to accept each day as it is right now. It has included ups AND downs over the past 18 months. Treatment has not changed my life into an amazingly problem or crisis free road.

Rather, I have changed, I have learned not to trust the extremes of my thoughts and feelings - the Black and White thinking symptomatic of BPD. I now check out some of my knee jerk reactions to life and have moved from the rocking to and fro of a small boat tossed about in stormy seas, to being able to wait for the storm to pass, as I have learned that both thoughts and emotions come and go. The most important thing I have learned about my feelings is that they won't kill me, no matter how intensely I feel them. I have also learned that my thoughts and feelings, alone are not reliable enough to build my life responses and choices on. As the serenity prayer says: 'Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. The Courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.' This is a summary of the DBT skills I have learned. Learning to manage BPD depends on a balance between acceptance and change. Acceptance of the things that are an essential part of my experience and character. Ability to change those things which are in my power to change in my response to my environment and relationships.

Given that it is over a year since I last self harmed, I have been managing my BPD with the skills I have learned. The training wheels came off a long time ago. My therapist has been coaching me from alongside, having pushed me off to balance on my own some time ago. The problem at the moment is that the impending end date has made me suddenly aware that I am moving forward with only myself and my new skills to keep me balanced. Wobble I may well do, but I am moving forward and, (to carry the bike riding analogy to breaking point), as long as I am moving forward I will keep my balance and I am unlikely to fall off. However, I have also learned that even if I do fall, it is not the end of the journey. I can pick myself up and continue on my way.

Tell Tale Signs...#12 The Answers

1. Mr Benn
2. Bagpuss
3. The Flumps
4. Noggin the Nog
5. The Clangers
6. Andy Pandy
7. Barnaby (the Bear)
8. Mary Mungo and Midge
9. Rainbow
10.The Herbs
11.Ivor the Engine
12.The Magic Roundabout
13.Pipkins
14.Jackanory
15.Play School

Tell Tale signs I'm Middle Aged #12

I can identify 1970s children's TV shows from the following quotes, Can you match the pictures with the quotes?:

1) As if by magic - a shopkeeper appeared.
2) We will mend it, we will fix it.
3) Ooh Perkin
4) Long ago, in dangerous times....
5) (Whistle, Whistle, Whistle)
6) Here we go looby loo, here we go looby la....
7) '...Never call me Jack or Jane, birds taught me to sing when they took me to their king...'
8) The Lift went down - deedle dee, doodle doo, dee...
9) Up above the streets and houses....
10)I'm a dog called Dill...
11)Psssh tiku, psssh tiku, psssh tiku...
12)'Everything is relative' said the Cosmic Onion, 'Well, you're no relative of mine!' said _ _ _ _ _ _
13)Now it's.... time.... to.... tell a story...
14) Tell a story... _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _, Tell a story,
15)Let's go through the Round window...

Tell Tale Signs I'm Middle Aged #11

I can remember, when crisps cost 3p (per packet).

When Starburst were called Opal Fruits, Snickers were called Marathon bars, Cif was called Jif (Why the change guys??).

I remember when a Creme Egg was as big as my head and Curly Wurlys' were a foot long....

and I tell the younger generation in my family about all of this and more 'from the olden days' no matter how glazed an expression they're wearing.

'Stop Being so Silly' Said the A&E Consultant

TRIGGER WARNING: This blog describes a distressing incident and discusses suicidal feelings and feelings of frustration and helplessness.If you are affected by discussion of these subjects, don't read on

It was early on a Sunday Morning during the Queen's Jubilee Bank Holiday weekend. I had implemented my Crisis Plan following a week of sleepless nights and five days of constant vomiting, which gave way to dry retching. I was not physically ill, but vomiting spasms were one of my most obvious symptoms, during periods of emotional distress.

I was feeling suicidal and needed help - desperately. I phoned the Crisis Team, as per my Plan and after ten minutes was instructed to attend the local A&E and ask to see a member of the Team as they were on site in my local hospital. So, I did as instructed and reported to the A&E reception, where the Receptionist was helpful and clear that I had already spoken to the team and had been told to report to them. So far so good. Thankfully, for a holiday weekend at 4.00 a.m. the unit was relatively quiet, just three others along with me in the waiting room.

The Triage Nurse, again was efficient and reassuring, I had continued to retch violently and had soiled and wet myself by this stage and so was in obvious distress. She was empathic and quickly ascertained that I was already open to the local CMHT and therefore was responding correctly to my Crisis Plan. Again, no regrets, relief that the plan was working. Then it went dramatically wrong.

Enter, the A&E Consultant. Opening gambit: 'Why have you come to the Emergency Department tonight?' I told him I was diagnosed recently with BPD and was experiencing a sustained period of emotional distress. Again, a long explanation about the building distress, finally admitting that I was feeling suicidal had contacted the Crisis Team and they had told me to report to them via A&E, could I please speak to them. 'No, you must speak to me' - cue frustrated banging of head against wall. 'You must stop being so silly and speak to me'. 'What is all this nonsense about suicide?''You are being very difficult and I'm not prepared to refer you on'. I decided to try pleading, 'Please, I don't want to explain anymore, I need to speak to the team, I have already spoken to them on the phone and they told me to come here immediately. That was two hours ago.' He again told me that talking about suicide was 'silly' at which point I exploded: 'Get this bastard away from me, I don't want to talk to him anymore'. Again, banging my head against the wall.

He continued to refuse to refer me on until I had 'stopped this nonsense and calmed down.' Then, a Staff Nurse and HCA appeared, alerted by my shouting, and quickly removed the Consultant. For the first time since speaking to the Triage Nurse, someone asked me if there was anything they could do to help me. It was the HCA. I was able to tell her about my soiled clothes. She quickly arranged some scrubs for me to change into and offered me a cup of tea. Then she and the nurse put me on a trolley and tried to get me to put my head down.

Within thirty minutes of their intervention, a member of the Crisis Team appeared and assessed me. She prescribed a sedative to stop the vomiting spasms and arranged a home visit from the Home Resolution Team the next day. Admission was never an aim of mine, as it is noted in my Crisis Plan that this is counter-productive unless there is an imminent risk of harm to myself. Having removed the Consultant and feeling listened to, my risk of harm had reduced significantly.I was allowed to go home at 6.00 a.m. and had a visit from the Team at home by 10.00 a.m.

The team responsible for my care had helped, but there seemed to be such a disconnect between their response and the response of the Consultant.

Given that the Receptionist and Triage Nurse had noted the involvement of the MH team, why did this man not recognise the fact that my case had a solution in place? Why did he feel that it was okay to belittle my response? Why did he not notice my physical discomfort and embarrassment? Given that I was dealing with BPD symptoms and risk of suicide attached to this condition, why did he not carry out a more thorough assessment of my suicidal ideation?

I guess there are no answers as to why, only he may know that. What worked in soothing my distress and stopping my self harming behaviour from escalating, was common sense responses to a human being in need. In a word, compassion.

The Alien in the Therapy Group

We sat down in a circle, me and five members of staff. I had been left on my own in the 'group room' while the staff sat in a side office drinking coffee and, as far as I believed, discussing me. suddenly I burst into tears. I felt like a five year old, in the wrong clothes, doing something wrong, in the wrong building, on the wrong planet. It didn't help that I was new to Mental Health services.

I was still working four days a week while attending this group every Tuesday, all day. I wanted so much to understand my condition and to be able to manage it better than I had managed it for over 40 years.

When I arrived at the centre I made myself at home, making a cup of tea and arranging enough cups for everyone, very unselfish and 'functioning'. I entered the meeting room which was empty so, eager to please, I set out eight chairs in a circle. After a while of sitting on my own in the circle I plucked up the courage to knock on the closed office door where the five staff were talking - I assumed - about me. So I knocked, they opened the door, looked shocked, then closed the door, without telling me what was happening or when the 'group' would start.

Then they started, the stream of endless judgements and negative thoughts: why am I the only one? I knew it I've done something wrong and now they're punishing me, they don't get me, they think I'm wasting their time, they think I'm a waste of time, I am a waste of time, just look, they can't be bothered to come out and see if I'm ok, I knew I was a waste of space.

Then 30 mins late, they paraded out of the staff room and entered the room. 'Oooh, someone's put the chairs out, that's nice. Wonder who thought to do that?' Ignoring the Alien in the corner. It felt odd in a 'Miranda' kind of way: me, alone sitting in a circle of eight chairs and once all five staff members sat down, I was still sitting isolated, with no one either side of me. And then the stream of powerful thoughts gave way to an overwhelming deluge of painful emotions: anxiety, humiliation, embarrassment,anger, frustration, confusion. One after another they crashed on me, as my sense of alienation worsened. Suddenly, the waves of emotion were out of control and my sobbing broke through the matter of fact (patronising) repetition of the agenda for the morning.

Instead of stopping the farce they proceeded as if the whole group were present. I was clearly very distressed by now, but none of the professionals (or the Service User consultant for that matter) seemed to have the common sense to enquire as to the source of my distress. Being someone who had not had very much contact with Mental Health services, despite struggling with BPD for over 40 years, I didn't know if this was typical and to be expected. All I was aware of was that whatever this process was, it wasn't helping me: I had taken a reduction in hours and pay to attend, committed myself to it for the next two years and THIS was making me feel WORSE - not in any expected therapeutic or cathartic way, but in a way that felt like I was being traumatised.

Suddenly, it seemed a member of staff noticed ME - the large eyes and green skin must have betrayed my presence! 'Maybe the number of staff here are making Alma feel uncomfortable'. No Shit Sherlock! Still, no one thought to ask me what was upsetting me to such an extent - not that I was capable by that stage of articulating anything resembling an accurate picture of what was going on inside me. Eventually, I was left alone with two members of staff, who then proceeded to deal with a recalcitrant child. No mean feat as, by that stage, my willingness to open myself up to further pain and distress, had disappeared.

Perhaps, professionals reading this may recognise the brick wall of resistance in my response. Perhaps, it helps to suggest that professionals don't try to break through this wall, by the time I have constructed it you would be on a hiding to nothing. I would suggest to staff how about acknowledging there is a problem in the relationship and suggest a restart.

I am glad to say that this false start did not put me off persevering with other treatments, but certainly, it reinforced a number of my defences and made it harder for me to open up to staff in succeeding therapy. I am also pleased to say that my experience of DBT has been positive, with staff being consistent, human and willing to acknowledge when they don't have the answers.

Here are some thoughts and suggestions for staff when dealing with someone feeling like an Alien in the Group:

1) Even if a service user presents as really together and confident - please don't assume that is the full picture. If I have been assessed as suitable for treatment then there must be more than meets the eye.
2) If you misinterpret the situation or a person's mood, don't be afraid to apologise, start again and ask for the person's help to understand. Above all listen to the response.
3) Be aware of how your locking yourself away in an office appears to patients, particularly from an individual person left in a group room. Remember, you are often dealing with people who are super sensitive to rejection, ridicule and paranoia.
4) Ask yourself how you would feel if you found yourself in the situation that seems to be distressing to the person you are trying to help - your answer may give you an idea what questions to ask.
5) If you are trying to get someone to open up who has closed down - please give them time to answer, don't jump in with your assumptions as these may well be wrong.
6) Even if you have some idea what is wrong, don't put words in the other person's mouth - all of us have our own ways of explaining things and even if you are close to the truth your experience will not be the same as mine.

Above all, show the person that they are not aliens, but individuals with real needs that deserve to be met and that merit the best of your skills and professionalism.

Fighting the Stigma

Even when meeting people as I leave my hospital appointments, my standard response to the polite, but empty question: 'How are you doing?' is typically either, 'not too bad' or 'fine thanks'. Oh yeah? So why the need to be going to the hospital?

Now, this is most likely partly to do with the cultural norm, I mean no one really means you to tell them how you actually are, do they? How any deviation to this norm is received depends on whether your decision to open up is related to physical health as opposed to mental health. So that, a response of 'Ok apart from this stinking cold' is much preferable to 'Been feeling really down for some time now.' I've been pondering the squeamishness we feel towards discussing mental health. We're different from previous generations, who didn't seem to be aware to any significant degree of emotional or psychological conditions, beyond 'bad case of the nerves', or 'eccentricity' or 'a bit funny'. I'm tempted to laugh, until I realise that actually, reading much recent media coverage, we haven't moved much further on in our understanding and stigmatisation of mental health conditions.

Spurred on by the work of organisations like Mind, Sane, the Black Dog Tribe and campaigns such as Time to Talk, I have been speaking to groups of people, trying to share my experiences of managing a complex mental health condition. I have been encouraged by the number of people for whom this has been a relief. So many people, struggling with depression, anxiety and other mental health conditions feel so, so isolated, because for so long so few people seem to have been able to be open about their own struggles. Again, and again so many have said to me 'I didn't know I wasn't the only one'. 1 in 4 people EACH YEAR suffer from a significant mental health problem ie a condition which requires the support and intervention of GPs, or Mental Health professionals. So if I am talking to 120 people that means that, on average, there will be 30-40 people suffering from a mental health issue at any one time.

Unless a physical illness is destined to be discussed on 'Embarrassing Bodies' I don't think that we are as reticent to discuss our physical ailments. Even then, I think the physical discomfort is likely to drive us to the GP, even men give in to pain discomfort, eventually. In fact, the typical response to telling people about my colds, sniffs, bugs and lurgies is 'Poor you, hope you're looking after yourself', which is nice!

We don't even have an 'Embarrassing Minds' equivalent, because it's easier to just pretend it doesn't exist. On all too rare occasions have I seen TV programmes which provide a small glimpse into something remotely resembling my experience of life, Bedlam, was one excellent example. It is remarkable, sadly, because of its rarity. More frequently, those who have emotional and psychological struggles are portrayed as 'outsiders', 'other than', 'not people like us'. The prime example at the moment is the portrayal of the residents of Benefits Street, most of whom are described in less than glowing terms. Notice the throw away comments about their mental health, such as 'Dee is on ESA because of her depression' dubbed over a scene showing her being narky with her kids. No further explanation of the 'Black Dog' that lives with every sufferer of depression.

I took nearly two years to tell people what I was struggling with Borderline Personality Disorder, (BPD)after I was diagnosed and started on the path to treatment. There were a variety of responses: total denial (Subscript: can't be true, you're too 'normal' and don't appear to be 'unstable'), minimisation (Subscript: No, you're exagerrating surely, why do you need to see a Mental Health Team?), ridicule (Subscript: Always knew you were a 'nutter' ha ha ha), disbelief (Subscript: I can't possibly be friends with someone with a mental health problem!). What all these responses have in common is that they are strategies to distance the responder from the Mental Health condition. If they can make me the 'odd one out' then they can live without fear of 'contagion'.

For people like this I would say: just as much as no one can predict accurately who will suffer from cancer, diabetes, virulent viruses; unfortunately, for us as human beings, we can never predict who is going end up suffering from a mental health problem in the future. In other words: IT COULD BE YOU! That's uncomfortable and bound to provoke anxiety - especially as mental health conditions and how they are managed are so seldom discussed in a well informed way, certainly not in the bulk of the media, or the political sphere.

Until those in charge of the debate, especially those in our government, actually engage in an intelligent and well informed way with the subject, there will be little impetus to improve the portrayal of mental health issues. Thankfully, under pressure from social media and certain individuals and organisations there is a small shift in the debate. However, the most powerful tool in this battle is the true stories behind labels and diagnoses and for this I am grateful to all the campaigning organisations.

Until it is as easy to discuss my mental health, as my physical health, on my better days, I will try to stick my head above the parapet and talk about the part of my humanity 'that dare not speak it's name'.

Tell Tale signs I'm Middle Aged #10

My 'top totty list' has aged with me. Suddenly, I find men in their fifties attractive.... yuck (says my sixteen year old self) oh yeah? Brad Pitt is nearly fifty, if he isn't there already... Jonny Depp... Mark Foster...(former Olympic Swimmer)...It's time for me to face it, I am ageing along with my favourite 'eye candy'. And suddenly, 'silver foxes' and 'lived in faces' pull on my heart strings.

Today's top totty, just doesn't do it for me... I mean, Beiber, Harry Styles, R-Pat - they are just children aren't they? No older than my nephews - nope I am embracing my attraction to the more mature man - I realise too that I am willing to accept 'cuddly' and home loving and settled in the men that appeal to me in real life. A bit like my current need for comfy slippers and pyjamas rather than silk and mules for my nightwear!

Yep, I know I'm middle aged, because my fantasy men have become like a pair of old slippers: a bit crumpled, familiar, yet still with a 'soupcon' of the original appeal.

Housework - the forgotten symptom....

My house I've realised reveals a lot about my mental health. When I'm up and when I'm down.... it's like a barometer of my emotional life. I remember a cartoon from my childhood with a dog called 'What-a-mess'. I loved that dog: I think I am that dog!

Most of the time my public face is usually fairly presentable, which is why anyone who looked inside my mind or my home (at times) would probably be surprised to see the extent of my inner 'What-a-Mess'. Someone asked me today, 'do you think that you have a problem with people thinking that you're competent and confident?' Now, I know he doesn't mean, that people find me so overwhelmingly competent and confident that they can't relate to me. I think he meant that people have a hard time accepting that I could be suffering from complex mental health issues. Maybe if I were more like What-a-Mess, ie people able to see the extent of my 'disarray' then there would be less questioning of the fact of my struggles and perhaps more acceptance when I need 'space' from people and the world around me.

The thing is, when people have entered my home (which has happened on just four occasions in the past year) it is obvious that all is not well in the 'State of Denmark'. In fact, I am rather ashamed of my 'bolthole'. I realise that using all my energy to manage my 'public face' leaves me relatively little energy to take care of my most important environment.

I am realising more and more that this reflects the biggest struggle I have as I move forward towards full recovery - a lack of self validation. My home reflects the value I place on myself. All my energy seems to be directed at maintaining my competent image to the world outside. Would I be better served letting out my inner 'What-a-Mess' to the world outside, or is the answer about finding more balance in my life, between my public and private lives?

Balance is always preferable to living at extremes of different spectrums. I don't have to choose between being What-a-Mess and Aggie and Kim, I just have to be able to invest in my home so that it is somewhere that does not generate negative emotions like 'shame'. My aim is to improve the environment to which I retreat from the world to recharge my batteries. To do so means that I should be trying to have enough energy left in each week to allow me to take care of myself: cooking, personal hygiene, housework, relaxation etc. In practical terms, I need to see my physical environment as being part of the nurturing relationships that are helping my emotional life.

I need my home to be a retreat, a nest, a safe place, when my mind and emotions are very much 'What-a-Mess'!

Don't forget your laughter muscle...

I'm a bubbly character.

For years, this was a handicap in terms of helping people understand my struggles with Mental Health. I mean, when you suffer from mental illness you're supposed to be 100% miserable all the time - right? Wrong. Just because life is a struggle doesn't mean that we lose our capacity to smile altogether - although there are periods of time when it feels as if life is drained of all colour and enjoyment. And there are moments when it FEELS as if the darkness that envelopes us will never lift. However, the reality of depression and distressing emotions is that they come and go in waves, some are more powerful and overwhelming, others are ripples on the surface of our lives.

Even at my lowest points I have found that I have never lost my wry view of the world and I have found myself laughing my way through therapy sessions focused on some of the most painful experiences of my life. It's a survival technique, one that kept me going through years when I was struggling without any diagnosis or support. Other people's perceptions of Mental Health is such that, due to my propensity to be able to laugh at myself and even the darkest of situations, most people who had contact with me at work or in other social situations would find it hard to accept that I suffered from periods of really black moods, brought on by my struggles with BPD and Clinical Depression. In fact, I lost a number of friends who thought I had taken some bizarre turn in my life when I shared my diagnosis with them. They couldn't reconcile the person they knew with their preconceptions of mental health conditions.

So, now that I'm recovering and am more on an 'even keel' emotionally, do I neglect my sense of humour because I no longer need a mask? My feeling is that my laughter muscle has always been there, it is a part of who I am, but now, rather than being part of my 'armour', it is anchored more and more in my enjoyment of life as it is. I have added it to my DBT skills and use it as opposite action - I mean really, how can I be angry (it used to be white hot and last for hours, if not days on end)when I see myself in the mirror in full flow? Laughter, releases so much tension, in so many situations (caveat: well chosen humour takes account of the needs and feelings of others). Laughing with others, too becomes opposite emotion, so my library of comedy programmes is extensive - an essential part of my 'recovery kit'.

Ultimately, I think that those of us who have seen the world through the prism of mental illness, have the ability to see the quirky and unusual in the world around us. How many comedians struggle with darker emotions? Those of us with BPD are also creative and dramatic, so we are able to see some nuances in life that others miss. When you're in the depths, don't forget your laughter muscle and if something makes you laugh, enjoy the feeling for that moment and observe how your laughter affects you physically as well as your emotions.

Pictures of the Aurora Borealis - Just WOW!

All of these photos can be seen at this site:
http://www.buzzfeed.com/ailbhemalone/breathtaking-aurora-borealis-pictures-from-scotland











When Living in Scotland I had the privilege to see the edge of the Northern Lights regularly. Just truly awesome!!