Meet George - My Shaggy DBT Coach

During the past week I met some animals who helped me remember how to use 'opposite emotion', 'Distraction' and 'self soothe' skills. They also reminded me of the key principles of mindfulness: notice, describe, participate, non-judgemental, one mindful, in the present moment.

George, is the runt of his litter of ten pups, he is a true 'shaggy dog', but when I met him during a difficult week at home with the family he greeted me with unadulterated delight and affection. Somehow, he managed to help me feel accepted and validated. And yet he's considered to be a not very bright dog.

George doesn't care what anyone thinks of him. He launches himself with enthusiasm and overwhelming fondness, at all visitors to my uncle's farm and most people consider him a nuisance. I loved him at first sight. He was a bundle of unconditional acceptance and affection, just when I needed it most.

We became immediate friends and he followed me all over the farm yard, even pressing himself between me and the miniature horses as I petted them behind their gate. He helped me manage my emotions and reminded me of the importance of not missing out on the simple joys in the present moment, which I often miss when flooded by pain from the past or anxiety about the future. If I could have managed it, I would have smuggled him back home with me, so that he could join my own shaggy mindfulness coach, Smilla. I will remember the lessons he taught me and I will remember him with affection.






And his friends the miniature horses:

Return to the Forbidding Planet: Going back to the Invalidating Home

TRIGGER WARNING: Some discussion of childhood sexual, emotional and physical abuse

I am an adult child - my parents are elderly and infirm. As a family we face the same issues as all adult children with elderly parents, but for me I also face battles with caring for the people who created the environment which conspired with my biological disposition to create the Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) I have struggled with all my life. To all intents and purposes I am a fully fledged adult with my own home and responsibilities. I no longer have to maintain relationships which damage me emotionally,

I am now in a position where I can choose where to invest my resources, both physical and emotional. Which begs the question, why go on holiday with the people who continue to invalidate my value as a human being? And in the response to that question lies the paradox at the heart of the relationship between the adult child and invalidating parents.

I have survived a week with my family. Before I started the week, I felt safe doing so, after all I had more than survived my childhood. I have learned to accept that the approval I have always sought from my parents will never be forthcoming. There is no point in me waiting for some miraculous change or realisation in them. After all, no amount of success or achievement in my life ever evoked any level of validation, or at least none that I could assimilate. Instead, the medals I won in my swimming competitions were dumped by me in one of my drawers at home. Even my winning the Ulster Championships and appearing on the back page of the newspaper failed to evoke any level of praise or approval that I could detect as a child. There was no showing them with pride to friends and family, no display cases full of our achievements as children. To all intents and purposes myself and my siblings were a separate entity from my parents, little people who lived under their roof, and who required 'firm discipline'.

Our emotional needs didn't enter into their reckoning of the parental 'contract', after all, we were fed, we were clothed and we had a roof over our heads. The only emotional contact I had with my Dad growing up was when he was angry. And when he was angry he was out of control. The level of physical abuse we suffered would result in our being subject to 'safeguarding procedures' today. However, my parents were good at sidestepping any outside scrutiny of our treatment - for me, it was all I knew. On one occasion, aged 6, I walked to school with a huge red hand mark visible on my bare leg. I thought I had done wrong when the teacher asked me to wait in the cloakroom. I waited until I was taken to the Headmaster's office to find my Mum waiting for me with a face like thunder. I don't remember the conversation with the Head, but I do know I was 'walked' home where I was beaten with the wooden spoon. I had no idea what I had done wrong, I hadn't said a word to my teacher, I didn't know that anything was amiss. As a family we have laughed since about the fact that Mum beat me so hard one time that she broke the wooden spoon on my legs. Then, she replaced it with a Tupperware spoon, which I attested was stronger - oh how we laughed about that one! No wonder that my BPD means that I am confused about appropriate emotional responses in numerous situations.

The conundrum for me as an adult is how I have managed to understand the complexities and deficits in my upbringing, but still I crave the approval of my parents. At times in the past week, my brother and I reverted to competing for our parents' attention. It hurt that no one asked about my recent health issues, or about the exciting opportunities offered to me in church to help use my experiences to help others. I was once again relegated to my familiar role of observer and silent child in the family.

In my first two years at school I was already so traumatised by my home life, that I was effectively mute around all adults including my parents. My friend spoke for me for the first year at school, until they removed me from the same class as him. I was traumatised and ended up lashing out at the teacher - I was the five year who kicked the teacher - hard, in the shins.... no Daily Mail shock headlines in those days, though, just ongoing punishment for the reported infringement at home.

When I finished my DBT therapy, my Therapist reminded me that I had begun the process of healing from the 3rd degree emotional burns, which are at the heart of the BPD experience of life. I have probably managed to develop a thin layer of emotional skin over deep, deep wounds. If I needed a reminder of that truth, then time back in the invalidating environment soon reminded me as my thin protective layer was ripped through once again. Little things, like talking over me, ignoring what I'm saying, ridiculing my weight, reminding me that I am indeed 'a nutter', 'weird', often pre-empted by me in an attempt to take the sting out of the teasing, took me right back to my childhood.

I was always the 'highly strung' one, the one who cried at the pain or suffering of small animals, who cried at the Little House on the Prairie. My family enjoyed laughing at me for my 'softness', but the truth was those occasions were the safe places to release my sorrow over the emotional pain I was struggling with at the time. All my life I've been told that I'm making mountains out of molehills, that I'm overreacting, that my emotional responses don't bear any relation to reality. Is it any wonder that, as an adult I have struggled to recognise what I'm feeling in any given situation, or that my reactions are out of proportion to the triggers, especially to the onlooker.

One of the biggest legacies of the invalidating environment is a lack of confidence in my own reading of situations. Aged 10 I told my Mum that my music teacher had been touching me in places on my body which made me feel uncomfortable. Her response was to tell me that this was a 'sign' that I was growing up and that I should expect men to be interested in me in this way as I 'developed'. My problem was I was an 'early starter' I had my first bra and period by the age of 11 (before I left Primary School). My Mum's response to my first attempt to speak up about something that felt so wrong (it wasn't my first experience of sexual abuse) convinced me that my feelings about what he was doing were mistaken. She told me that I was 'growing up' and that I should expect men to become interested in me in that way. She hinted that it was flattering. This caused me to doubt my own misgivings and feelings of discomfort about sexually abusive behaviour.

My Mum's response laid the foundations for me to ignore my misgivings and led to me suffering more serious sexual assaults and violations from that age, right into my adulthood. After all, I had told an adult about something that felt really wrong only to be told that, I needed to 'grow up' and accept it as something that just happens and is some kind of rite of passage. Why would I, as an adult, trust my own feelings of distress and pain when I had been so wrong in the past? Such is the ongoing conflict for me between what I know as an adult and survivor and what I 'feel' I deserve in terms of justice. I have moved on, I have learned to begin to protect myself and to fight back.

May I make a plea on behalf of any of your friends or family who suffer from the effects of BPD? Please never tell them that they are 'overreacting', or that they need to 'just let the past go'. If it was that easy for me to manage the overwhelming emotional responses I am swamped with at times, then I wouldn't have needed 18 months of intensive therapy. I wouldn't have had to learn to manage them and to learn to live in the present moment, without letting the pain of the past or the anxiety about the future drown me in waves of distress. Imagine if you will that you have a severe burn. How long before such a wound stops being sensitive? My own experience of minor burns tells me that even when new layers of skin have grown, sensitivity to pain remains a long time. 3rd degree burns, will always remain sensitive. So it is with me. I am learning to allow myself to heal, to let new layers of emotional skin grow. My new life is one which is helping me to heal. However, the reality is that a return to the invalidating environments and their complex relationships, rips through new growth and healing.

Therapy means that I am equipped to manage my distress better, it does not mean that I stop feeling things deeply. During my time with my family I used a variety of different DBT skills:

- Distraction - my ipod equipped with positive playlists and some Loving Kindness meditations. I played with animals. I kept to my room when I needed to restore my emotional energy.
- I prayed
- Self Validation - I texted supportive friends, I listened to positive Mindfulness exercises
- Opposite Emotion/Opposite Action - Instead of getting embroiled in family rows. I focused on my environment, read an absorbing book, or watched other people in the hotel. I didn't explode, which is easier to do in my family environment than in other settings.
- Mindful Breathing - I constantly refocused on my breathing and posture when starting to feel distressed.

Above all, I returned home to my world, where I am in control of my environment. I am able to manage my time and space. I am able to choose the relationships that are positive and validating for me. The realities of family life, dictate that as I have chosen not to confront my parents with the impact of their behaviour during my childhood, I then have a duty to relate to them as an adult child. I choose to treat them according to my values and beliefs, not according to how they dealt with me. That means I will continue to face times when I need to return to the invalidating planet of home. More and more they are becoming dependent on me and my siblings. My own sense of compassion and humanity tells me that it matters that I care for their needs, as I am able. I have learned in the last week that I can survive that. I have learned that I don't have to remain hurt and locked away because of those experiences. I have learned that I am able to manage my BPD and allow my wounds to heal. One brilliant realisation is that my resilience against my family has developed - I am able to recover from my visits home quicker.

My DBT Validation Treasure Box

This is my 'treasure box' full of positive things to remind me that when I am having a bad day, the whole of my life has not been bad. The box is full of little things and big things, achievements sometimes, but mostly little notes of thank you and appreciation. It has been said before and will be said again, why is it that the most appreciation we give to people is reserved for when we lose them? A few years ago a friend challenged me about this and since then I have tried to remember to say that I appreciate what other people have done, or mean to me, when I can. I used to think it was cheesy, but I know it means so much to me, when I receive little notes of cheer and encouragement and hope it can be an encouragement in turn to others.

In my box, I have:

1. A programme from the first school play that I was stage manager in.

2. A 'Certificate of Adoption' as an honorary Auntie to my friends' children. This was lovely at a time when my own nephews and niece have grown out of childhood, so I'm able to extend my role as 'fun aunty' for a good ten years more! This was all the more meaningful as both boys are themselves adopted and so they know the value of the 'Adoption Certificate'.

3. Emails, letters, cards saying thank you for little things I've done - reminds me that I'm not as selfish as my depression tells me I am.

4. Photos of different groups and clubs I have belonged to - reminds me that I do belong, especially when I'm feeling isolated.

5. Ticket stubs, maps and information from special days out with special people who lift me up. I can read through them and remind myself that I can be good company and people enjoy spending time with me.

6. Some of my first published blogs - someone else was interested in reading my story!

7. Leaving Cards from previous employers - often full of specifics about what my managers were going to miss about me - again why wait until I'm leaving to tell me I'm good at my job? Still very much appreciated since my redundancy to remind me that I was once useful and can be useful again.

8. Letters from important people like my uncle and aunt who really helped me to survive my childhood - much of their wisdom was written down when they were able to, I still read their letters to remind myself of important truths that counteract my negative experiences in life.

9. During my time on DBT I started writing down little positive comments, that usually I would ignore or discount. I have a little rainbow post-it note pad which I use for this and add to my treasure box. This was a form of 'exposure' to counteract my internal negative running commentary of invalidation and is taking time to filter through. It works in much the same way as the jar of coloured beads, two for each positive experience, comment, event etc, one for any negatives. Often with BPD it is easier to discount the positive and it is important therefore to keep an objective tally of positive versus negative.

10. Tickets for my first Graduation Ceremony - this was so precious because I had suffered my first breakdown in my final year and had to repeat the year to graduate.

Above all, this box is amazingly uplifting. It is so easy to focus on the people who have hurt us and the times when we have failed in relationships or work situations. How often do I pore over photos of lost loves and memories that are painful, why not instead focus on the relationships I still have and memories that will build me up? So often I'm my own worst enemy - anyway,another reason why my Treasure Box is so important to me.

So seldom, especially when struggling against the invalidation of childhood, do we appreciate ourselves as members of teams, groups, friendship groups or even just as we are. As much as we are touched by the lives of others, we bring something to the lives of those around us. If we can learn to listen to the positives we can begin to balance the negatives of our memories with the positives. Life is, after all, light and shade. No life is all good, or all bad. Often our emotional struggles strand us in waves of negative thoughts about ourselves, but little tools like this can help us bring balance back to our perspective.

Do you have something similar? What sort of things are you able to put in? How much weight do you give to positive comments about you? Try something new, just saying thank you and accepting it at face value - it's starting to make me feel better.

50 Ways to Give Your Emotions a break

This is from a Pinterest board run by the Black Dog Tribe - thought it was excellent for generating ideas for self soothe, getting active, opposite emotion to name just three DBT skills. I've noticed too it's got a good range of different senses involved in activities. Am going to try a few that I've not tried myself yet, biggest challenge - have a complete break from electronics!! A fun read and worth trying to use if you've got into a rut with self soothe and self care.

My 'Me Against the World' DBT Playlist

Some days, regardless of paranoia, it seems the whole world is out to get me. The depth of sensitivity of the BPD person cannot be overstated. Hence, when some sleight or unintended (or intended) insult comes our way, the impact on us is devastating and longer lasting than for the average person. Marsha Linehan has expressed the extent of emotional pain for the person with BPD in this way: "People with BPD are like people with 3rd degree burns ...Lacking emotional skin,they feel agony at the slightest touch or movement."

My problem is with 'apparent competence' and a theatrical confidence, developed through the professional experiences of teaching and probation work over a twenty year period. Because of this 'shell' a lot of people consider that it is not possible to hurt me. Unfortunately, none of us are mind readers and therefore we have no idea of the weight or force with which our words and actions are carried to the heart of another person. Most people have some kind of emotional armour, but as Marsha Linehan's words point out, the heart of the person with BPD is raw and it is as if those hurtful things are hitting an exposed and beating heart lying on a table. It is as if the wounds opened long ago are fresh and, further hurt (however minimal to the average person) feels like salt rubbed into those wounds.

One of the good things about being an 'emotionally sensitive' person is that my own vulnerability has taught me to weigh my words and actions very carefully. I have no idea what devastation I may unleash unwittingly on those around me, because I can never understand fully the life experience of any other person. No matter how similar our experiences may seem.

When I feel the pain of these kinds of moments I know that they are connecting with numberless moments from my life when I have felt abandoned and rejected. These moments have become so much a part of my life, that in expecting, fearing or anticipating it I often create the rejection I fear. I know I act in ways which produce the opposite result to that which I intended. Such is one paradox of being emotionally sensitive - I have written about the toll this 'push-me, pull-you' yo-yo of emotions has taken on past relationships in previous posts.

Although I have completed a period of DBT treatment and am better equipped to manage my emotions than before, I continue to be an emotional 'burns victim', in the process of growing new skin over the exposed wounds. So, more often than not I find myself feeling like the world is out to get me and I feel I am alone in my battles.

Anyone who has followed this blog for any length of time will know that all types of music are my refuge when I am struggling with emotional issues. So it is in this case - I have a range of songs which allow me to express my grief and sadness, while at the same time reminding me that I am a strong person to have managed to survive to this point in my life. Sometimes we all need reminders that even if it is not just our paranoia, when we feel alone and embattled, we have more fight in us than we thought.

1) Something inside so Strong - Labi Siffre (No need for explanation)
2) The Impossible Dream - Camelot (listen to the lyrics - to fight the impossible fight)
3) Towerblock - Julia Fordham (1980s chanteuse - deep deep lyrics, worth looking up just to listen to this one song, if you've ever felt cursed by the strength that has helped you to survive)
4) I am What I am - Gloria Gaynor (?)
5) Somewhere - from West Side Story (any decent version will do - somewhere there's a place for us...)
6) Anthem for a Lost Cause - Manic Street Preachers
7) Shadows Fall - The Proclaimers (an album track which beautifully captures the pain of just getting through life)
8) High Flying Adored - From Evita (great version by Madonna and Antonio Banderas) lyrics about the public persona versus the private - never assume anything about other peoples' inner lives - we don't know unless they share that part of themselves with us.
9) Pavane for a Dead Princess - Maurice Ravel (I know the title isn't very appealing, but the expressive music allows so much letting go of sadness - I find I am able to sit with difficult emotions like grief and sadness when I either play this or listen to it....just let the music affect your emotions)
10)Town Without Pity - Eddi Reader (Or Gene Pitney if you fancy the original) Great when you feel people have been getting at you - a kind of musical finger to the small minds that have been picking on you for whatever reason - personally I love the brass arrangement on Eddi Reader's Version.

(Nearly Made it: Beautiful, Christina Aguilera, Beneath Your Beautiful, Labrinth, Over and Done with - Soundtrack Sunshine on Leith (The Proclaimers), I'll Find my Way Home, Jon & Vangelis, Never Had a Dream Come True, Stevie Wonder...)

When I am licking my emotional wounds I need this soundtrack, along with a healthy dose of solitude, crammed with positive things which reinforce the good things about my life - which I need to keep acknowledging are many and many-faceted. My dog accepts me unconditionally and loves me. I have learned through owning her, that I am capable of loving other creatures and have managed to begin to transfer that knowledge to humans! And when people have hurt me I no longer give up on people all together. I am now able to look at the friends who have stood by me, who understand that friendship is a two way street (that I am capable of giving back) and who assure me that I am indeed, lovable.

Self Care - Do I really 'Get it'?

I can talk about recovery till the cows come home. I understand the DBT skills that help me manage my emotions and thoughts. I find them relatively easy to practise and use when necessary. However, when it comes to 'self care', especially of my physical well being I am in need of 'remedial' help or a 'refresher' course. I know the obvious question in DBT terms is, 'so what's the obstacle to using self care?' My honest answer is that at the core of my feelings towards myself is a fair amount of self loathing.

It's a knotty old problem that rears its head in all sorts of situations and causes my responses sometimes to be out of proportion to the stimulus. Whether I am succeeding or failing (in my own eyes) I will always have a 'director's commentary' running in my head telling me either that my current failure is confirmation of all that I believe about myself, or that my success can only be a fluke, or people flannelling me. Basically, I have never learned to trust my own instincts about how I am doing in work, relationships or any sphere. I think that is why people on the outside consider me to be an overachiever. I have always needed the confirmation of cups, medals and prizes as totems of my value. Strangely enough, no amount of outward success has ever made up for my own doubts about my intrinsic value or worth to the world.

Credit: Tweeted by @jessisheron

This lack of self validation has affected me in a number of ways, but perhaps most obviously in my inability to care for my health. My GP in the past has described me as 'stoic', 'strong minded' and 'a bit of a martyr'. She had earned the right to speak to me in that way, having taken an interest in my mental health and recognised the link between this and my lack of self care over a long period of time.

Given that I have been an athlete and been at the peak of fitness into my 30s before my mental and physical health broke down, I know how good it feels to feel 'good' - physically. My biggest problem for my health has been the overwhelming ennui that sucked all energy and motivation to exercise out of me. The Black clouds of depression which hung around my life in long, black days, were accompanied by the desire to cram junk food and large portions of 'bad for you' snacks into my body, in a failed attempt to fill the emotional void inside. No need to undergo major analysis or large numbers of tests to discover the cause of my burgeoning weight and loss of fitness. Easy to ignore until earlier this week, when I ended up in A&E because I had been vomiting up blood.

I know the cause of the waves of retching which caused the bleeding; years of chronic anxiety and panic attacks which included emptying the contents of my stomach as my abdominal muscles went into spasm. Most recently the continued lack of care about the contents of my diet,has been the main cause of my feeling sick. So, the easiest thing is to take care of it. In other words, take care of myself. Except, there it is, that nagging little voice from all the way back in my childhood - 'I am not worth looking after'.

It wouldn't be so bad if I hadn't started on the road to recovery from those emotional scars, so instead of ignoring these thoughts as just a part of who I am, I am starting to feel uncomfortable with this negative view of myself. Slowly, I am aware that the messages from my faith, friends and other sources is getting through to me that I might be worth caring about. And, on a simply practical level, I know that if I want to maintain my emotional equilibrium I need to live as if I believe I am a whole person who needs to be cared for physically as well as emotionally.

On Monday afternoon for the first time in my life, I picked up the phone and asked a friend to go with me to A&E. I told the Dr how badly I felt and what was worrying me about my symptoms. I then followed the instructions to contact my GP, the next day - was given an emergency appointment and received top class care, advice and reassurance. I will commit to attending the follow up appointments which will continue to monitor my condition and provide me with ongoing treatment. That is all simply because I want to feel better about myself, because when I am fit physically I am better able to make the most of every day of my life.

In a sense up to this point I have been deluding myself that I have left my self destructive tendencies behind with overt suicidal feelings and self harm. Instead, I have continued to punish myself by neglecting my physical well being, perhaps on a different level from all the self destructive behaviour before, but nonetheless still not prepared to let myself 'off the hook' as regards punishment. Essentially, I need to stop and acknowledge that punishment is only effective if there has been a crime which requires justice. Being myself, having the life I've lived is not a crime. The following words have been difficult for me to articulate but they are an essential step towards my healing: I have done nothing that deserves me punishing myself over and over. No one else is holding me to this account but me and it is time for me to truly be released from the prison of self loathing. Taking care of myself is a good start.

Self Care is important and is something which will help me to sustain the progress I have made in managing my BPD. It has taken me a long time, but I am beginning to get it and to get the importance of feeling good physically to feeling good mentally.