Joy and the Emotionally Sensitive Person

'Sassy', I think this is one of my favourite words, and attitudes! There have been a large number of words used to describe me down the years: 'moody', 'drama queen', 'over sensitive', 'touchy', I could go on. However, the 'Sass' in me is fed up of the negative vocabulary attached to my diagnosis, that in itself seems confused. On my medical records the labels have changed from 'borderline', to 'emotionally unstable', to 'emotionally sensitive'. None really adequately conveys the reality of living in the emotionally sensitive skin.

As I progress in my recovery, I am beginning to find more positive words to describe my experience of life. When I see the worst in the world, the pain can almost certainly cause distress and unbearable pain. The flip side is that when I allow myself to focus on the good things in life, pleasant feelings are amplified into joy. I can really enjoy the small pleasures of life. Just as the pain and distress of life can be experienced by me to its depths, I am able to enjoy good feelings in wonderful technicolour. This is the freedom of owning my emotions and embracing the times of enjoyment, sometimes to the embarrassment of my companions. Dancing down the steps of the cinema, then taking a bow, following two hours of really enjoying a musical, is me allowing myself to express real joy, as much as I have let the reins go on my more destructive emotions. The difference is a little public expression of happy feelings is not destructive, in fact, perhaps my expression of strongly felt emotion was an echo of fellow cinema goers' enjoyment of the same film. The spontaneous applause from them as I skipped to the bottom step and turned round, was a moment of real shared joy, in a pretty unpleasant national and international setting.

I am good company, because I can take the smallest glimmer of enjoyment and amplify it (when I allow myself not to fear the strength of my positive emotions). Balance is important so that light feelings don't spiral out of control - but for too long the negatives of emotional sensitivity have led to me keeping my strengths in check.

I love the poem 'When I am Old I shall wear purple', except, now I'm 50 I'm not willing to wait until I'm old to embrace the best of my life experiences. Part of that is because I have allowed others to define what responses to my life are 'acceptable' for too long. The words I apply to me need to become: colourful, fun, strong, empathetic, sensitive to others, creative, optimistic - yes, really! I've realised recently simply because of my ability to come back from knockdowns and how I see what is possible, that I am an optimist. I believe in enjoying small pleasures just like a toddler - not out of control - but absolutely one hundred per cent, totally involving myself, body, mind and soul in enjoying the moment. Not childish, but childlike. It's no accident that the feel good clips most enjoyed on YouTube tend to focus on young children, kittens and puppies.

I'm currently watching the Winter Olympics and once again Elise Christie (GB Short Track Skater) has experienced unbelievable setbacks. One thing that a friend of hers said about her emotional responses struck me; she is able to embrace the pain and the feelings of despair so strongly, but unlike others, who can't do that, having faced the worst she can feel, she very quickly comes right back up again, ready to fight. Sometimes the emotional impact of the worst in life floors us for longer than we want. The fact that so many emotionally sensitive people face the worst thoughts and feelings about themselves and life, yet keep going, shows me there is always a seed of hope within. Building up the experiences of our most joyful moments, so they become a buffer against the bleaker times of life, helps us to be even more resilient than we give ourselves credit for.

Sometimes I feel Sad - and that's OK

Most of my life was spent avoiding painful emotions, any dip in mood was met with a frantic increase in activity, avoidance and, frankly physically and emotionally draining 'coping mechanisms'which, if I'm honest, weren't particularly effective. At the time those coping skills, poor as they were in the long term, actually helped me to 'function'. The problem came as the cumulative effect of using my 'coping skills' became self destructive. I felt I had to keep using them because I was so in fear of the huge torrent of grief that had been dammed up for decades, that I believed my very life depended on me stopping myself from feeling, ANYTHING.

As I have described elsewhere in this blog, the use of those coping skills resulted in me being unable to feel anything. I had reached the point where not only was I lacking in any energy to keep going, but as my GP told me, if we looked under the 'bonnet' I would find that I had long been trying to function without 'any engine at all'.

Over the past five years since that point, I have slowly built up different sets of skills and found out that the huge emotional breakers I have feared for so long didn't kill me. It has not been an easy process, developing skills takes time, effort and determination. One of the first set of skills essential for me to learn and practice were the distress tolerance skills. If I know I am equipped to cope with the feelings I fear so much, then my very existence no longer depends on preventing myself from feeling.

As time has gone on, the importance of Distress Tolerance has reduced in proportion to the number of times I find myself in crisis. The second set of skills which dovetailed into the first was the Emotion Regulation Skills. In practice, the ability to identify and name the feelings I feared so much was one of the most important points in turning the corner from the way I had lived for so long. Rather than sitting frozen in fear of a fog of indefinable feelings, I can name my 'demons' and once named the sting is taken from them.

The sets of DBT skills along with the routine practice of Mindfulness have helped me to stop the constant rise and fall of difficult emotions, to give myself time experience them, without living in constant fear of being overwhelmed by them, so that I am able to effectively manage relationships which for so long were damaged and broken by the uncontrolled impact of my emotions.

The most vital fact I have needed to face up to is that I cannot escape emotions. Simply because they are part and parcel of being human, and I am in fact a human being, contrary to how alienated my emotional responses have made me feel. Emotions are an important part of the way I am built. All emotions have a function and actually are beneficial.

I have had to adjust my thinking about emotions from seeing them as some internal monster, ready at any point to wreak havoc on my life. As someone who, due to biological and social, environmental factors, is more emotionally sensitive than average, emotions have always loomed large. Due to the experience of trauma in childhood, there has been a significant amount of grief to manage. In the past that grief has been unresolved because most of my energy was focused on avoiding feeling it. If I cannot identify the grief, and name it, it can connect in an endless stream with any difficulties, or sadness I am feeling in the present. My baseline emotion is at a higher level than average, that means that I have always struggled with a high degree of underlying grief and sadness. So, it is understandable that even the most seemingly insignificant trigger to grief in the present may well lead to overwhelming waves of grief.

It has taken me three years of working on DBT skills to understand this about myself. If I struggle to understand why my responses are so extreme, how hard then, must it be for those around me? I think sometimes, this is what makes me feel like an alien, even when in the most supportive of company. I am only just beginning to be able to articulate this process for myself.

As I have moved along the path of recovery, I am learning to recognise sadness as an emotion in its own right. Rather than try to avoid feeling it, for fear of it connecting with the overwhelming grief of the past, I am learning to accept it for what it is in the here and now. The past and its experiences are done with. Sometimes I may still feel an echo of the grief of the past, but I no longer need to fear it as massive, rolling breaker, rising threatening above my head. The waves of sadness are more manageable as a result. Not only do I now possess the skills to manage my emotions, but I have learned to accept even sadness as an important part of being a human being. It's okay to feel sad, because sometimes there are things in the here and now to be sad about, and that's okay.

The Sound of Silence....is it golden for you?

'Click, Click, Click' these used to be the first sounds to enter my consciousness as first the radio, then the TV and finally the phone were switched on. There was no point in my day when I was able to hear 'background sounds', or even the sound of silence. From the radio in my car to my ipod constantly plugged into my ears when working 'quietly' to everyone else's music or endless chatter, I never considered that my quiet times were anything but.

Three years on from beginning to practise DBT skills, and mindfulness in my daily life, I have found that there are many times when I am enveloped in the 'sound of silence'. Everyday, after the initial alarm, I potter around my house doing my daily chores and even eat, drink and read in 'silence'.

If I'm honest, I have only recently become comfortable with silence. In the past there was an urgency in blocking it out. So much energy was invested in damming up the feared internal distress that both physical and mental 'busyness' became an ingrained habit. In the same way that I invested every last drop of physical energy in my paid work, I invested all of my time alone in noise to drown out my internal distress.

There is a reason that some of the torture techniques recently reported from Guantanamo involve noise. Either incessant blaring music or 'white noise', but then again the difference between music and noise is in the ear of the beholder! Walking in nature without my ipod is relaxing simply because I am no longer forcing into my mind noise for fear that I will be overwhelmed by the internal noise within.

What has changed is the realisation that I no longer fear the feelings that used to overwhelm and defeat me. I have learned to move on from my past and my present is no longer burdened with long remembered hurts. Some emotional pain is justified but it becomes suffering when I allow it to mar my experience of more positive experiences in the here and now. Scars exist and are a natural part of having survived trauma, but they fail to heal if I keep tearing the scabs from them. If I can learn to accept the feelings without trying to drown them out with constant noise, then the rawness of the scars will lessen and heal without the underlying distress keeping the emotional pain fresh.

Silence has an important role to play in healing. In silence I find space to feel, think, reflect - important that it does not become brooding. This is where the disciplines of mindfulness give me the skills I need to make the most of silence. Focus on the immediate, the here and now, ground myself in the present and when feelings which are unconnected with my current moment arise, let them go. The fear of being unable to cope with silence goes, the more I practise non-judgemental, one thing at a time.

Something else which making room for silence does, is that it allows me to enjoy even more the times when I listen to music or watch something. When I am able to enjoy the silence, then I am able to experience and therefore enjoy the non silence even more. Silence and space allow me to enjoy the times and experiences which fill the silence. I can appreciate the night sky most when I am in an environment which is far from artificial light - when I am far from light pollution.

The problem with my previous fear of silence is that in an effort to run from it I cluttered my mind and emotions with noise and mental pollution. If I can give myself space and time to experience silence, then it allows me a purer experience of life when it comes into that silence. The other thing about 'silence' is that outside of a vacuum, which none of us live in, it is never absolute. There is always something we can listen to, if only we could switch off the artificial sounds with which we swamp ourselves!

Poustinia - finding my still small centre

'A poustinia (Russian: пустынь) is a small sparsely furnished cabin or room where one goes to pray and fast alone in the presence of God. The word poustinia has its origin in the Russian word for desert (пустыня).'

I have not posted on here for some weeks, mainly because I am in the process of building in more formal work to my routines. It is challenging for a number of reasons. Firstly, it has, and is, taking me time to absorb and accept, that in order to maintain my current levels of emotional stability I need space and time to practice my emotion management skills. Secondly, my previous patterns of extreme working to the point of emotional, mental and physical exhaustion is not sustainable, or advisable if I am to maintain emotional stability. Thirdly, I am learning that I need to actively build a life which gives me emotional space, which in turn means that I need to accept that I cannot sustain full time or even half time hours, compared to my previous working patterns.

One of the roles I have taken on is as an Expert by Experience in three separate roles within the local NHS Trust. As these opportunities have developed I have become a service user consultant to my DBT team. I am revisiting DBT skills from further down the road of recovery and recognising that one aspect of my emotional management which has 'slipped' is my use of formal Mindfulness exercises. Don't get me wrong I keep myself focused and alert to the here and now by using the how and what of DBT mindful practise, but I have not managed to make sitting down and focusing on a mindful exercise part of my daily routine. Having been reminded of this I have tried to build it into the routines at the start of my day.

Thinking about this more formal mindful practise I am reminded of the idea of Poustinia which I was first introduced to when on retreat at the Northumbria Community approximately twenty years ago. At the time I was looking for a way to manage my stormy thought and emotional life. Poustinia as stated above finds its roots in the Russian word for 'desert'. As with the real desert environment, the practice of poustinia can either result in exposure and vulnerability, or if I am properly prepared and equipped, it can be a place to find clarity and space to focus away from the hurly burly of day to day life. Where it is practised as a spiritual discipline there are strict rules about preparing to go to Poustinia and when people are ready for those moments of isolation. Just as there are times when isolation is not helpful to me, there will be times when too much time contemplating risks tumbling into introspection and rumination which can keep damaging emotions ignited and stoked.

For me, Poustinia does not have to be a purpose built cabin in the wilderness, as in Russian Orthodox religion, but has become the idea that I have made a space in which to contemplate and nurture my relationship with God, in this context I also notice my emotional state and prepare myself for the best possible start to my day. At home it is a snuggle chair, prior to settling down I avoid switching on any of my electronics. This routine along with the routine practice of mindful exercises means that my day is not a crashing launch into activity and crowded thoughts, but is a calm assessment of how I am doing. Hopefully, it makes me less vulnerable to emotional instability. Where it coincides with mindful practice is the idea that I can recreate this place of poustinia, internally, at any point in my day. If the events of the day around me are at risk of creating instability in my thinking or emotions, I can use mindful breathing to focus whilst at the same time anchoring my experience in my wider belief in God and the purpose and meaning that brings to my life.

Helpful Self Soothe Gifs

I first came across these Gifs on Healing Schemas. Originally shared via http://dead-rainbow.tumblr.com/post/108825682249/anxiety-gif-master-post

They have helped me to focus when practising mindful breathing and to refocus on the present. When I am out and about away from being able to watch restful everyday activities such as making tea or coffee they are great as gifs on mobiles. Try some out here or use the link where you will find so many more that are helpful. These worked for me:

Breathe in and out in time to the shapes.

Focus on the movement of the brush on the page.

Whether watching a moving image or focusing on the action of making comforting drinks, a great starter self soothe activity.

Let your eyes focus on the movement of the steam upwards.

Water - the neglected Element?

As I recall - and I could be mistaken because it has been some decades - at school I was taught that the human body is 70% water. Whatever the accurate proportion, water and how I use it has to be an essential part of how I care for myself physically. I cannot survive without it. What about the part water has to play in my mental health? For me it is one thing that is easy to overlook, but in terms of managing my moods it is one of the most basic, and the most important things to get right.

Am I thirsty, or losing control of my mood? We readily recognise the impact food, or lack of it, or too much of it, or the wrong quality has on our moods. We are quick to notice when hunger is bringing our mood down, or the impact sugar has on quickly giving us a 'high'. Too often in the past, I didn't notice that being thirsty has a major impact on my low moods. I have found that I need to drink a minimum of 3 litres of non caffeinated fluids a day so that I remain relatively stable in my moods. I don't know why, except to understand that the description of emotionally sensitive indicates that those things in my environment or physical being which affect my moods and emotions are likely to have a bigger impact on me than the average 'bear'. I start my day with a pint glass full of squash - I marry this with my medications prior to breakfast and is one of my essential routines. When out for a coffee or having lunch I will buy a bottle of water or ask for tap water along with my hot drinks. I am able to notice when I haven't had enough to drink during the day and make use of a wide range of sugar free squashes to keep my water intake steady.

So far, so internal. What about how we use water to soothe and manage difficult moods. I learned to swim when I was three. Was a competitive swimmer from the age of six, I am supremely confident and comfortable in and around water. Here are some ways that I've used water to manage difficult emotions.

1. Mindful Showering and Washing. Noticing the feel, temperature and effects of the water on my skin. This is a self soothing activity for me, particularly when coupled with aromatherapy shower gels and bath cremes/bubbles.

2. Changing Temperature to Manage Distress Tolerance. In a similar way in which some use ice cubes, I have used changes in my bath temperature to help me overcome self harm impulses. The process of running the bath mindfully allows me time to notice the intensity of the impulses and to give myself 'time out' to allow them to subside. I will run the bath as hot as I can stand it - the shock to the system, 'wakens' me away from the internal pain. When I am fully immersed I let a certain amount of the hot water out of the bath before running cold water in. This allows me to notice the waves of cold water mixing in with the hot. Again, doing so mindfully focuses me in the here and now and creates a distraction from the emotional pain. For those for whom baths can be triggering the basic principle of switching between hot and cold can be used in a shower, or by running tap water over the inside of your wrists. This is something I learned to do when working in Africa - it is a quick way to cool yourself down! If you have the time and access, as a luxurious self care treat visit a Turkish Baths (there is an excellent council owned one in Harrogate), you don't have to book in for expensive massages, but can enjoy the simple process of hot steam rooms followed by freezing cold showers, or plunge pools. It is amazingly relaxing. The fact that the steam is infused with eucaplyptus and other aromatherapy oils, means you leave with skin that feels around 10 years younger!

3. Swimming. As I have said I am supremely comfortable in water, I can happily plough up and down the pool, as much as runners can enjoy running for miles. I can also relax by simply floating - something I learned so early I don't remember never being able to just lie on top of the water. On sunny holidays I more likely to be found floating in the water than lying by the side of the pool or on the beach. I also enjoy immersing myself completely so that all sound is drowned out. It's peaceful at the bottom of the pool. The rhythms of swimming are excellent ways to practice mindful breathing. I find that swimming allows me to both exercise and release tension - so much so that it's hard to stay awake after. I am certainly more relaxed that after other forms of exercise.

4. Get used to it. Not everyone is at home in water as much as me. If this is you, try to enjoy the same sensations by observing drops of water on the back of your hand. Watch the different directions it may run each time and try to do so using the principles of mindfulness.

'Should' - My Own Personal Dictator

I have lived under a dictatorship most of my life. Sometimes, especially in the early days I considered it a benign dictatorship. Sometimes, still it continues to be.

The problem for me is when 'should' is the only voice I listen to - when 'should' dictates my emotional responses to events and incidents that have already happened and I have no control over. I 'should' have done this, or that. I 'should' have said something different. I 'shouldn't' have even attempted to do this or that.

Worst of all is when my dictator tells me who I 'should' be - if I were a different person, if I could have a different life then I wouldn't be suffering. I 'shouldn't' even expect things to get any better - at least that's what this little dictator tells me when I try to improve my life and end up facing disappointments - of course things have gone wrong I 'shouldn't' have even tried to make my life better.

For too many years I have lived under the tyranny of Should. Making me do things I feel uncomfortable doing, ignoring my own needs to an extreme as I seek to prevent Should's assaults on my mind and emotions after I have attempted to do things to meet my own needs. Living in the state of Should meant that I was constantly on edge, even after I had completed tasks or meetings he would be there running through my head berating me for failing. In the end I was never at peace, always on the look out for ways that I had failed myself and others around me. Always with the expectation that I 'should' have done better. Never once asking if ANYONE COULD have done any differently.

The 'How' of mindfulness is something I often overlook in favour of the easier to practice 'what'- but 'non-judgemental' is exactly the ally I need to help me defeat the dictatorship of Should.

It helps me combat the messages about how fit I 'should' be, what weight I 'should' be, how successful I 'should' be. Non-judgemental helps me to silence 'Should' especially in the middle of trying to achieve things like taking part in social events, or trying out new skills to help me change so that I can make my life better. So rather than a constant stream of Should telling me what I'm doing wrong I try to let go of judging myself constantly: 'You should be more confident, you shouldn't talk to people, they'll think you're weird.' becomes, 'I'm going to speak to this person and focus on what is being said - there is no should or shouldn't, it's just called talking to people - it is what it is.'

The thing about dictators is that they tend to shout loud. I need to ensure that the opposition voice is as strong as Should. Unfortunately, I've given this dictator too much time and space in my head over the years. That means me telling him where to go when he pops up shouting the odds and ruining my experience of life in the here and now.

Of course, there are times when I need to do 'the right thing' by others around me. It's part of the social contract. Otherwise I risk replacing 'Should' with his odious cousin 'Me-Me-Me'. Perhaps what I need is to develop the skill of discernment: 'The act or process of exhibiting keen insight and good judgement'.

An essential part of good judgement is perspective. Being able to see things as they are. I have found that practising mindfulness has allowed me to take a step back from the constant ranting of Should. I can see that I need to ignore Should when he tells me that if I had acted differently the past would have changed. So what? I can't undo the past, it has happened, it is gone, it has no power to keep me away from living in the present. No amount of Should telling me off is going to change the past - so why give him headroom? Similarly, no amount of him telling me that I should be like another person is going to make me a different person, so why pretend that he has any power over that either? I am who I am, I have lived the life I've lived and I am where I am.

If I keep listening to Should and his insistence that I 'should' be this or that, or that I shouldn't have lived as I have lived, or that I should be somewhere else in life, then I am naturally going to make myself miserable. It is time for me to silence him and to focus on doing that which is natural to me, that which is effective in keeping me going in the here and now, and that which helps me to maintain a life worth living.

Count on It

I work in words and pictures - it's the most familiar way for me to explain the world around me. There are times though, when the cacophony of thoughts running constantly through my head, as well as the exhaustion brought on by battling the storms of thoughts and feelings, means that I cannot find words or pictures to articulate anything. That's when I need to stop trying to make sense or find words, for my feelings. There are times when I need to stop the internal 'noise' and rest my mind and emotions.

One skill I often neglect is the use of the abstract: shapes, numbers don't need any explanation and they are so emotionally neutral that regardless of the feelings I am experiencing, they cannot make it worse. I used counting and numbers in the early days of my recovery, when my mind was too tired for words and emotions were maintaining the exhaustion because I was not in control of the thoughts fuelling them. I have mentioned mindful breathing as a skill before, when I am most in need of a break from my thoughts if I couple this with counting then I can control the flow of thoughts. Here are some ideas that I've used.

1) I Simply count my breaths. It is probably the easiest way to notice my breathing and how quick or slow it is. It also means that I can either keep going as long as I want up to any number or I can simply repeat '1', '2' instead of 'in', 'out'. By counting I don't have to fight the thoughts as much because I am focused on saying the number.

2) I Count while walking. Either, again the '1', '2' instead of 'left', 'right' or make groups of numbers eg count twenty paces, then start again. This has the benefit as well, when starting to move more, of taking the focus from how far I'm walking to focus on the rhythm of walking itself.

3) Starting at 100 deduct 7 until I reach zero. The mental arithmetic is a quick way to take me away from any battles with thoughts as I need to put my mental energy into visualising the sums in my head.

4) Sudoku. I was unable to concentrate long enough to read, but the simplicity of the Sudoku puzzles allowed me to focus my mind on a restful activity, which also meant that I could build up my ability to concentrate in short bursts.

Counting allows me to make progress in small measurable steps. It is another way to press 'pause' on the flow of emotions and thoughts. In a sense succeeding at the puzzle don't matter as much as the process of focusing on the numbers themselves. Give it a go, the next time you are caught in the feeling/thought cycle. There's a reason people say to count to ten when you're angry!

If I can't love myself, where do I begin with self care?

Being able to feel secure in my place in the world is vital to my ability to engage with the world around me. I cannot contribute to the communities I may want to be part of if I don't feel that I am accepted or, more accurately, acceptable to those around me. I will not be able to sustain relationships if I do not believe that I am worthy of that most basic of human needs - human contact and interaction. For most who suffer from BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) a lack of basic self esteem underlies most self destructive behaviour. I will not care for myself, because I don't believe 'I'm worth it'.

One of the hardest things I was asked to do in DBT was to say 'I love myself so much'. It still hurts to even write that. I cannot say that I've reached a point where I'm able to say it with any level of belief. A lack of self love in the past evidenced itself in behaviours which often resulted in crisis in one or other area of my life. I would spend until my debts were so overwhelming they affected my physical and mental health. I neglected my physical health - I rarely went to the doctor, what was the point? I reasoned, it would be a waste of resources - because it's me.

No therapy in the here and now can undo the experiences and relationships in the past which have stolen any sense of self worth. Even the most loving relationship in the here and now cannot hope to permeate the depths of my sense of self loathing. A friend of mine who has gone through the adoption process told me about some of the training they received on expectations of the children's ability to absorb the effects of a loving home. During training they were told that the child is like a cup with a layer of cling film wrapped over the top. Pouring love into the child is like trying to pour liquid into the cup. It cannot get through. There is a certain acceptance of the reality of the impact of invalidating early environments.

I can relate to that image. I have been unable to understand or feel that I am loved, despite having some very high quality friendships. It is true that the hurtful, rejecting relationships have been the ones that I have gravitated towards over and over again. Again I return to the core belief that 'I am not worth' any better treatment. People wouldn't ask questions about why abused women and children don't seek help, if they truly understood the cumulative impact of experiences which reinforce again and again, that I am less than, that I am someone whose needs don't matter, that I am someone who can be used and abused at will and no one feels is worthy of rescue.

So, given that has been my experience of life, where do I begin with self compassion and self care?

1) Start with the simple things. I began to regulate my sleep. As I practised mindfulness I found that I was able to fall asleep and stay asleep easier. Under the DBT Emotional Regulation skills module, the PLEASE* skills give me a guide to what to do. Sleep is the S of the skill. I don't need to worry 'HOW' practising these skills affects my sense of self worth. I just have to try something different and see if that helps me feel better. P means take care of my physical ailments - so get myself to the doctor when I need to. I started by doing that, getting help with oft recurring migraines - they used to last 3-4 days, happen 1-2 times a month and resulted in me vomiting for at least 48 hours. Getting help with medication which prevents attacks as well as practising DBT skills means that I have only had 2 attacks in the last six months. It doesn't take a brain surgeon to work out that the impact on my emotional health of getting these under control has been immense.

2) Give it a go anyway. Even if I don't think I deserve it - by practising the non-judgemental aspect of mindfulness all I have to do is experience a bath, a walk in the sunshine, massaging hand cream into my hands, putting together an ace playlist for my ipod, watching a favourite TV series in the middle of the afternoon. It took me a long time to lose the guilt, but I kept 'acting' on my plans to treat myself. After nearly two years I am able to take stock of my needs and decide how to care for those needs in any given day. This of course needs to be balanced with using other times to care for others.

One of the difficulties of being introduced to DBT Skills in a group is that not every exercise or suggestion suits every member of the group. Having said that, if I am to find what works for me, I need to get over myself and give things a go. This is one aspect of DBT Willingness, which I understand better as a willingness to engage fully with the world and people around me. My therapist asked me to try saying 'I love myself so much' using Miss Piggy's voice (remember I enjoy drama - it was tailored for me as an exercise!). This made me less fearful of the emotional power of the words and has allowed me to keep trying to say it for real - as I have said earlier - still working at it.

3) Do what you can. Initially I found it difficult to look after my health by way of my diet. So much emotion was carried in my relationship with food. I have been obese for some time, but it was only when I had been out of therapy a number of months that I decided I was ready to do something about it. I needed to build up my ability in using other core skills such as mindfulness, long before I was ready to deal with my weight. Be realistic about what you can do. Care for yourself in basic ways such as sleep, enough water and regular meals before you try to tackle things you have used in the past to help you cope with your emotions, like smoking, overeating etc.

4) Accept any help on offer. Lack of self care results in avoiding asking for help from others OR it results in me becoming so ill that I have no option but to rely totally on others for my care. There is nothing more strengthening that being able to ask for help, knowing that I have made the decision and I know how such help fits in with my own plan of self care. Having decided that I needed to feel fitter I asked the GP about help with diet and exercise. I am so glad I did because I need additional support to keep going - in our area there is a Fit Squad which means that if you are suffering from Mental Health issues you can access three months individual support to improve fitness as well as a Food for Thought programme. I've lost over three stone and have ground to a halt - so I need to go back to my advisers and ask another boost of motivation to complete the transformation. Overall, by caring for myself I feel so much better physically and am able to enjoy activities a lot more. In addition because I am practising mindfulness, I am able to enjoy the changes.

The most important thing to remember when embarking on this journey of self care is not to blame yourself or mistaking self care for selfishness. It is not selfish to care for yourself and just because your parents or others have discounted you in the past, you do deserve to be able to enjoy good things. If you keep going with looking after your physical needs, then you will find your emotional needs easier to meet too.

* DBT PLEASE Skills can be remembered as follows:

"P L E A S E M A S T E R."

treat Physical illness
balance Eating
avoid mood-Altering drugs
balance Sleep
get Exercise
build M A S T E R y

I have downloaded the Loving Kindness meditation from the UCLA website (http://marc.ucla.edu/body.cfm?id=22) This again is something which will feel painful if you are starting to work on self care, but over time allow yourself to keep going - non-judgement will be your friend.

I have found these tools on American website and have pinned them on my DBT Pinterest account. They are a good graphic representation giving some ideas about how to begin with self care:

7 Marks of a Mindful Person

This is a really helpful way of summing up the difference between Mindfulness and other 'interventions'. If it is to be effective, it has to become an integral part of the way I live my life. It only helps me manage my BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) when it replaces the 'coping skills' I developed when merely seeking to 'survive' and becomes the way that I actually manage to 'live a life worth living'. That means that it is more than just a set of skills. If I am to be effective in using the DBT Core Mindfulness skills, they have to become a part of my daily life, more than just a habit - they have to become an essential part of how I view my life, my experiences and who I am. That means it is a profoundly life changing experience more than it is a treatment option.

I Spent Christmas on my Own - By Choice

It is my guilty Christmas secret. This year I decided I wanted to spend Christmas Day on my own. I also didn't make it widely known - because suddenly other people feel obligated to invite me to join them in their 'family Christmas'. It's not that I am a Grinch or a Scrooge - I love so many things about Christmas - not least because of my faith which means for me there is more than just the surface hoo-ha about it. My main reason for spending one afternoon and evening on my own was in an effort to manage a period of time which has been triggering for me in the past. In this way I have been trying to be EFFECTIVE in using my DBT skills.

I have to admit managing this feat took a number of skills and no small amount of preparation and forethought, although I will admit not remotely anything akin to the stress inducing mayhem of trying to pack family baggage into one 24 hour intense time period.

1) I tried to manage my EXPECTATIONS. No matter how hard we try the whole of the media machine is ranged against us at this time of year, filling our screens and heads with images of warmly lit family bonhomie. Not least is the imagery of groaning tables with more food than is right for any small group to consider ramming down their throats. Most of my life, Christmas Day was the day when I felt I was given attention in tangible forms. When favourite relatives eased the gap between us and our parents. The problem for me was that just like so many coping strategies this one day did not erase the pain and confusion of all the other days spent with these people. There is a confusion for the child of the invalidating parents. Despite the ongoing lack of interest in our lives, there is a bond which is unbroken. At Christmas I lived in hope that the glow I created around tiny little traditions would magically last for the next year and transform my life and family. Inevitably, usually early in the day, my expectations were disappointed. My post Christmas crashes were epic. Because I had put so much pressure on the ability of one day to transform my life and remove all my emotional pain, the fact that nothing changed would bring sadness crashing in on my head. This year, I decided to recognise that Christmas is a season. We don't have to see all our friends and relatives on one manic day even if we need it to be at Christmas for practical reasons. So, I planned a series of events. Being part of a church at this time allowed me to PARTICIPATE in a number of really enjoyable events.

2) I considered how I could CONTRIBUTE to other's experience of Christmas. Feeling part of something is a great way to counteract the sense of failure I often feel when I am tempted to ruminate on failed relationships and friendships - and my own lack of current relationships. This year I was asked to help with the script of the Nativity at church and had a part which was absorbing, right up my street and needed a great costume. I really enjoyed channelling my inner Victoria Wood! It is interesting that this invitation to take part would not have happened if I had not taken smaller, manageable steps early in the year to contribute to drama in the church, as well as stepping in to run Sunday Club during the summer break. It was great to help out with the children's work, without feeling the pressure of responsibility. It also helped that I am up to date with my CRB (or whatever the letters are now) status. Preparation for Christmas then, has meant a continuation of the involvement I have tried to develop as part of my DBT ACCEPT skills.

3) I didn't try to pack my enjoyment of Christmas into just one day, I decided to be MINDFUL of all the small things I enjoy about the Christmas Season. I identified cinnamon and winter spices as the smell I wanted to focus on. I have returned to enjoying cooking and, latterly baking. I found the processes of preparing, baking then eating my produce allowed me to practice focusing on ONE THING AT A TIME. The effect of this aspect of mindfulness is to stop me thinking myself into either a state of anxiety or of unsustainable excitement, which is generally followed by an almighty crash in mood. I managed to bake some presents for some people who have helped me throughout this past year. I also spread out the events and socials I was involved in over the whole Christmas and New Year period. So, I started with the script and practices for the Nativity, the Nativity itself. I was invited out for coffees by a number of friends, some old, some I have made in the last year. For the first time in years I planned a Mulled Wine party, and enjoyed the preparation for it. I kept the numbers down and held it in the house of a good friend which was bigger than my own and therefore able to hold the gathering comfortably. I was assured that I am a good hostess and I was able to show off my newly developed baking skills - I even pulled off some of the lightest, yummiest mince pies EVER!! My Christmas season is not over, I and my brother looked at our diaries and have planned a lovely family 'chill' day on 2nd January - so we get to exchange presents and chill out at the end of the holidays too. New Year's Eve I usually lock myself away and hide because I find it harder than Christmas - this is when I feel the lack of an intimate relationship the most in the year. With some very good friends, I am planning a Cowboy evening to introduce their children to classic westerns - of course the menu will include beans.

4) On Christmas Day itself, I went to church which was packed and really enjoyable. Because of my preparations I didn't feel weird about all the children and families sitting in groups, leaving me to pick out the spare seat at the end of the rows. A couple of friends joined me and we all sat together in our own 'group'. A good friend who has been divorced for some time, was doing Christmas differently this year. She didn't fancy a big dinner with family so she spent the morning with her daughter's family and grandchildren opening presents. She then visited friends and family for the rest of the day - I was one of them. We laughed and ate cake and coffee for an hour, then she went to her next 'call'. Both of us made our own Christmas. Lots of friends and family phoned or texted with greetings. I was able to graze my way to my dinner in the evening. The menu was entirely my choice. I didn't have to rush to eat more chocolates than I wanted in case my favourites were swooped down upon by others.

Throughout all of this I have made a conscious decision not to overspend. This is hard for me, because the only validation available to me as a child from my parents was in the form of material things. In the past one symptom of the emotional hangover from Christmas was debt which usually took me until April to clear. Through my baking and spending time with people I have learned a new way of feeling good about giving. Because I have spaced my time with people out, I have been able to be sociable from emotionally recharged batteries, rather than feeling completely drained by Christmas Eve.

POSTSCRIPT: I have found it interesting to see the discomfort of people who suddenly realise, 'Oh no, Alma's going to be on her on ON CHRISTMAS DAY!!' The thing is I live alone 365 days a year. I am lucky I have caring friends and my brother's family with whom I feel comfortable. Yet, for me there are many times when I feel alone. Weekends throughout the year are hard. It is so difficult in summer when I think 'I'd love to just pop out to the Lakes for the day', but it's not safe to do that on your own. I have learned to enjoy drinking a coffee on my own in a cafe. I am a long way, though from being able to go to the cinema or theatre or a restaurant on my own. How come the people who have invited me with such concern to 'join them and their family' for Christmas lunch never think to invite me at other times? I know that I am lucky to have the choice. I didn't mind my close friends who checked with me in the summer about my Christmas plans, I mean the folk on Christmas Eve who suddenly notice too late. Why should it matter to them simply because it is one 24 hour period? I am doing well socially, what about the other people who maybe didn't appear at any events over Christmas because it is too hard to be among people? They probably didn't even get the last minute, panic invite. Life is lived everyday, not just on Christmas!

My Christmas Self Soothe Habits

I once heard a famous musician state that he reckoned it took over 10,000 hours of practice to master a new skill. That means, not become a master of it, but to become proficient in it. That gives me pause to think when I expect perfection almost immediately when trying to learn new skills. Let me put it this way, 10,000 hours equates to 416 days - that's well over a full calendar year spent doing nothing but practice the new skill.

DBT Core Mindfulness is a simple skill to grasp hold of, but is hard to master. Most of the DBT skills are like that, some people find themselves doubting their effectiveness because of their simplicity. However the reality is that if I work at applying self soothing skills, for example, to my day to day life, then not only do I find them becoming a habit, I find that they begin to permeate my thinking.

If I apply the effort required to master any skill ie well over a year spent doing nothing but that skill, then I realise that the time spent in even the most intensive DBT therapy only gives me approximately 182 hours of practice. Of course those 182 hours assume that I have done nothing but practice mindfulness, say as a single skill. So what? Well it has brought home to me the fact that any hope of the DBT skills I have learned becoming effective in helping is dependent on how much effort and time I invest in developing and honing those skills in my day to day life. Seems obvious. Yet I continue to berate myself for feeling as if I don't deserve to enjoy life, or I feel as if I am a complete failure if my mind wanders when I am trying to be mindful, or if I find myself 'multi-tasking' and therefore not being as effective in a task. However, in real terms I have only been practising these skills for just over two years - in mastery terms I am well short of the 10,000 hours required to be merely competent and that's okay, because outside of being able to bend the laws of time and space I have no option but to live my life in a moment by moment stream.

Which brings me to Christmas - or rather my self soothe Christmas habits. Having used mindfulness and other DBT skills over the past year or so, for the first time in ages I feel as if I am awake to Christmas. Suddenly, I am more aware of how things are changing around me. In the past my experience of Christmas was masked by an emotional mesh over my senses which filtered out the more enjoyable aspects. Along with many others in society I have absorbed the lie that 'it's for the kids' or 'the most important thing is family'. Hardly any wonder that so many who don't have children in their families, or don't have perfect families (isn't that everyone?), or are isolated have a pervading sense of disappointment, from what is a two week, or if you take in advent, a four week season. More than any other time of year the pressure is on to either live in the future (THIS year we're going to....etc.) or the past ('remember when we used to do this, I always loved Christmas'). What a time to really focus on practising mindfulness.

I like to think about it as 'Mindfulness Max' - our senses have so much to be aware of and notice, that we can take our time and really focus on the here and now. Thoughts and memories bombard us from the future and past, derailing our mindful maintenance of moment by moment experience OR giving us the opportunity to build up our mindful skills.

1. SIGHTS - There is no way this aspect of Christmas can escape anyone. One of the real pleasures of the dark days of winter is the appearance of coloured lights in windows and in shops. Even the sight of a bright pink Christmas theme in a garden centre was a pure joy to behold, if only sharing the joke with some friends that it did indeed look as if Barbie had thrown up all over the place! The reason the lights hold such delight for me is because it is such a contrast to the drab winter world outside my window.

Even when I couldn't manage to do any real Christmas decorations in my home, I tried to have a couple of candles. If that is all you can manage to cope with I encourage you to light one, turn off the electronics, for as long as you can cope with it, and watch the flicker of the flame. As with all mindfulness exercises, if you notice thoughts or painful memories, just bring yourself back to simply describing WHAT you see in front of you - what colours are there in the candle? How does the flame move? Flames in candles or fireplaces are fascinating and soothing, especially when we sync our breathing to them.

2. SOUNDS - I don't mean the brash music that blares out incessantly, I mean the sounds of winter outside. I was amazed last week when walking down a ginnel (that's an 'alley' in northern lands) I heard what sounded like hundreds of birds really close to me. I realised when I stopped and looked closely at the hedge beside me that flocks of tiny bluetits and sparrows were chirping away in the middle of a stormy winter day. I have also discovered the soothing tones of Pentatonix - they are an a capella group who have brought some fresh sounds to some very familiar Christmas songs - they don't sound remotely dirge like. The lack of over produced brass and orchestration we have grown used to in our Christmas music is so restful to me. Equally, some Christmas cheesy classics have the familiarity of old friends or comfy slippers.

3. TASTES - at Christmas we can wage all out war on our taste buds - assaulting them with sugar and fat. This year I have rediscovered my love of cooking and baking. I am planning to reinstate my Mulled Wine party - the smells of mulled wine is matched by its soothing taste - a must have for Christmas. Along with the flavour of cloves I love the taste of cinnammon, I enjoy mince pies, short shortcrust pastry and...brussel sprouts! And why not? I have noticed that it is taking me so much longer to eat my meals - I used to be a 'bolter', now I have learned to savour most meals - not only has it helped me to regain my love of cooking, it has also improved my digestion.

4. SMELLS - these are closely allied to taste. Because of this, I think smell can be problematic in that it can evoke so many memories. Because Christmas is about tradition most of our food will have a history. For me making a menu change means that I can truly create a break with the past - this year I am doing a traditional roast beef dinner. I am learning that traditions are only valuable when they help me to enjoy the season. If I am diverted to the past then maybe the tradition needs to be replaced with a new one.

5. TOUCH - this can be a problem for those of us who live alone, or who are not in an intimate relationship. For me, touch has meant beginning with the safety of my dog and cat. Initially the cat was good for me, as he didn't overwhelm me with demands for affection. Dogs are different, dogs need you, they want to be close to and they constantly present themselves to you for strokes and cuddles - at least my dog does! Another thing I have learned to really enjoy is trips to my hairdresser. I have developed a friendship with my hairdresser - it is a positive relationship and one that I trust. I have learned to indulge myself when going for a hairdo. It takes between two and three hours, depending on how laissez faire I'm feeling about my 'do'. I am plied with coffee, trashy mags, gossip, laughs and most soothing of all: the head massage! I know and trust the staff well enough to be able to just close my eyes and focus on the experience of having the tension massaged out of my scalp - it feels safe and offers me human touch without any agenda, hidden or otherwise!

If I am tempted to wander into wishing, or hoping, or regretting about the future or the past, my task becomes to shift the focus of my senses so that they tell me about the here and now. It's okay, I still have 9,680 hours to go before I master that skill.

A Bad Case of the 'Yes, Buts'

'Yes' was described by James Joyce as being the most positive word in the English language. It is. Unfortunately, as with many elements in my life with BPD I often counteract the positive attitude inherent in the word by adding a massive and unnecessary 'But'. Recently, I've had a bad case of the 'yes buts'. I have been enjoying the stability of recovery, but have been in danger of trying to run ahead of my own progress by trying to short circuit the waiting and consolidation period. When I am reminded of the skills which have enabled me to continue to manage my condition on a day to day basis, or of my progress towards a more positive future, my automatic response is 'yes, but'...

'Yes, but... here I go again. I have done so well, BUT I keep struggling with depression...just proves I'm a failure

'Yes, but... I am weary of having to keep 'managing' my symptoms...just proves I'm too weak...

'Yes, but... I deserve to keep suffering...and getting on with life, feels wrong somehow...

Running a group has reminded me that I am not alone in the 'yes, buts...' When everything inside you tells you that you will fail, positive steps forward sound, difficult, foreign, too hard to achieve. It takes perseverance and determination to listen to the 'yes' without tempering it with the 'but'.

Two aspects of DBT are needed here and I have found it all too easy to forget them. The first is 'participation'. This is part of core mindfulness and says that I will participate fully in what is happening in this moment. If I am going to self soothe, then I will do so with gusto, if I am going to use opposite action and dance or sing, I will do so with gusto. There are times when I don't have the energy to even consider using any skills, that is when I need to say 'yes' to the effort of engaging and participating in one moment at a time. If I can say yes for a split second, then I can say yes for a whole second, if I can say yes for a second, I can string them together to make a minute. This brings me to the idea of willingness. Having decided to choose to live, then I am by my actions saying 'yes' to engaging with the people and the world around me.

It is all too easy to allow the 'But' to swallow the 'Yes' and prevent myself from overcoming my difficulties and suffering. 'Yes' is a springboard to a meaningful life - 'but' keeps me weighed down in the mud of the past.

When I first started DBT therapy I spent a lot of time learning to 'uncurl' physically. I was curled in on myself physically as well as emotionally. This was my way of saying 'No' to the whole of life and experience around me. 'No' kept me safe, but also cut me off from life. I was neither willing nor able to participate in anything let alone the positive in life. It was an important battle to fight - one memorable one to one session,my therapist spent the whole 50 minutes trying to get me to lift my head. I eventually managed it towards the end of that session for a short time. Eventually, after a lot more battles and many months of practising the acceptance and mindfulness skills, I was able to sit tall and look people in the eye. There are still moments when I curl in on myself - that's ok, there are still moments when I need to protect myself, as long as it doesn't become my default again.

In that moment when I lifted my head I started to say 'Yes'. 'Yes' is being open. 'Yes' says I have hope that I can recover. 'Yes' says I am ready to enjoy my life, without those things which rob me of recognising the positive in me and my relationships. 'Yes, but' is a step along the road from 'No', dropping the 'but' takes me even further along the road to recovery:

'Yes, I want to enjoy this moment'.

'Yes, I can...'

'Yes, I am worth working through the 'buts'

'Yes, I am worth putting the effort in to my recovery and building my life from this moment on...'

An Image for DBT Thought Diffusion

If you've followed this blog for any length of time you will know that I love it when I find images, music, art or anything that helps me to keep using my mindfulness skills. This image is an excellent tool to use in trying to rid myself of unwanted thoughts or feelings.

When using pictures I always start by taking time to focus myself on being in the moment. Usually, I do this through just becoming aware of my breathing, until it is regular and even. In the past during periods of instability I found that I would be holding my breath for short periods of time which would increase the impact of damaging emotions. So, having noticed and adjusted my breathing, I then try to notice how my body is reacting - usually I feel tension in my shoulders and neck. The process of focusing on my breathing actually naturally helps to relieve this tension.

Once I have been able to calmly focus on my breathing I focus on the image in front of me imagining the sort of day it might have been when the photo was taken. This image starts with me lying on my back in the sun, looking up at a stunning blue sky. I notice birds singing, feel the sun on my skin, notice a slight breeze. Then I notice dandelion seeds floating by.

I then shift my focus back to my breathing before noticing any feelings or thoughts. Then I name them. Without analysing or trying to understand where they have come from, I form them into words or sentences. These sentences or words I then attach to the seeds as they float in the sky above me (a bit like the words on the screen when Sherlock is noticing people in the new TV series). I watch them as they and the seeds rise away from me into the blue and eventually float away.

I repeat this as many times as I need until I feel calm. Then I return to focusing on the here and now and my breathing until I am ready to get on with my life without the troubling thoughts or feelings, until I need to deal with them, again!

What is RADICAL About Acceptance?

One of the hardest things to do is to stand still. 'Traffic Lights' and 'Statues' are two childhood games based on the skills needed to do just that, physically. How much harder though is the emotional or psychological need to stop thinking and worrying about things that have either already happened or may never happen?

After years of constant striving to escape my internal struggles, I have found myself living through a hiatus lasting more than two years to date. During this time I have had to learn to be patient, to wait, without any assurance of 'having a plan'. Who said I had to always have a five year plan anyway? Acceptance has become a necessary skill.

I have had to accept a diagnosis that seemed to tell me there was something fundamentally wrong with who I am. I don't think this is what is intended by the professionals who work within the restraints of diagnosing emotionally sensitive people. I think this is because the condition I suffer from is too complex for simple labels. I have a good understanding of what it means to live with BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder), but it seems to be exceptionally difficult to make it understandable to those around me. What I have had to learn to do is to accept regardless of the label placed on it, I struggle with symptoms which mean that I am unable to sustain the levels of achievement I have aspired to all my life. Despite outward appearances to the contrary.

Seen simply I have achieved a lot. Three completed degree courses with the accompanying professional status conferred by them. Trained, qualified and experienced Teacher and Probation Officer. A former successful competitive swimmer. Since the age of 13 until the age of 45 I have had a job. I have even managed to work for considerable numbers of years in challenging careers. On the surface, I have been exceptionally successful within those professional spheres - until my emotional and psychological instability (undiagnosed for over forty years) would cause me to come to a sudden halt. What is not so obvious is the cycles of breakdown and recovery during which I have managed to achieve these things.

I am now learning, in my current period of recovery, to accept, that even though I am capable of achieving a reasonable level of responsibility and income from any job I take on, I need to consider sustainability, given my diagnosis. In other words I need to accept that I am limited not in terms of ability, but in terms of sustainability, if I keep trying to achieve to the extent of my abilities. Instead of stretching myself to my limits, I need to accept that I have to work well within them, if I am to be able to maintain any level of stability in my working life.

Above all, I need to accept that I struggle with things in life that most other people don't have to even consider. It has taken me some time to realise this.

I am an exceptionally determined person, I have needed to be. For a long time when I was introduced to the Radical Acceptance skills in DBT (Dialectical Behaviour Therapy) I believed that to accept the limits of my BPD was to stop fighting it - to give up - to surrender. Given what I have battled all my life, this felt like admitting defeat. However, my way of fighting clearly had not worked over a lifetime of trying. In using acceptance I have been able to stop putting my energy into trying to achieve things that were impossible for me to achieve.

Acceptance means admitting that there are things in life that I am powerless to change or affect. It may seem crystal clear in the cold light of day, that there is nothing I can do to change the past and there is nothing I can do to affect the outcome of the future. However, in my behaviour and what I call 'paralysis of thought', I spent most of my life trying to relive and undo the past, or trying to predict and control the future, in the process, spending any emotional assets I possessed so I was unable to enjoy the present.

What is so radical about this acceptance? I don't know what the clinical explanation of radical acceptance is, but I do know that this level of acceptance of reality is radical in terms of its impact on my mind and feelings. As with all the DBT skills I need to keep coming back again and again to remind myself to stop fighting in the old ways and to become more familiar with using my new skills.

I have been familiar with the story of Don Quixote and the idea of 'tilting at windmills' for a long time. It is only recently that I have realised most of my energies were taken up with battling against things that only I perceived as injustices as well as real, but unwinnable battles against wrongs done to me and others. In learning DBT skills I have been able to refresh my understanding of the Serenity Prayer. It reminds me to accept my limits and learn that life doesn't always have to involve strife to make me feel 'alive'. I can learn to give up battles against unbeatable foes, so that I can begin to enjoy winning the war against my emotions. I used to believe that it was good to struggle, because it showed I was still living - still 'kicking'.

'Kicking against the pricks' is a saying which comes from the fact that in Roman times some harnesses for horses contained sharp pointed pieces called goads or pricks, which were designed to keep the horses in line. When horses kicked against them too much they could cause themselves injury.

Wisdom, for me is knowing when battling, struggling and kicking against the difficulties of life is going cause me too much pain and injury. Acceptance is learning what is wise for me to put my energies into, so that life is less about struggle and more about meaning and purpose. If I can accept that it's ok sometimes to feel pain, it's ok sometimes to be sad, it's ok to be me and it's ok for the moment, not to do anything other than enjoy what can be enjoyed in the here and now, then I am somewhere along the road to living a radically different life to the one I lived before.

Sometimes my Feelings Change my Perceptions

'Sometimes you hear things that aren't being said. When you are right it makes you astute, when you are wrong it makes you....' I finished it for her 'paranoid!'. I have some excellent friendships. A vital element for my friends is that they are able to 'tell truth to Alma'. It helps me to see through the smokescreen created by the turmoil my emotions throw up for me at times.

I don't have issues with reading into people's words or actions when things are stable. However, if anything destabilises me or causes me to become emotionally sensitive, then the cycles and waves of difficult emotions are sustained by this tendency of mind to see things to prove my sense that I am under threat.

This is related to the fact that I tend to 'mind read' people as well. Usually, the feelings that most cause these difficulties are anger and anxiety. It is as if my thinking becomes bathed in the red warning light of hyper vigilance. Because people in the past have hurt me, that means that I can never trust the words and intentions of people in the here and now.

This is where I need to use a number of strategies.

1. First of all I need to be able to recognise that I might be maintaining my distress by constantly reigniting my anxiety or anger, because I keep circling round key events and conversations related to the triggered emotions.

2. To be able to control the thoughts, I need to stop the speed and power of the emotional waves. So, I use self soothing to bring my emotional temperature down to a manageable level. This is my self soothing kit: http://bpdlifeinthemoment.blogspot.co.uk/2013/11/my-self-soothe-kit-whats-in-yours.html

3. When I am able to manage the emotions through mindful breathing, I need to stop my thinking from returning again and again to minute details in the triggering events. I use my mindful visualisation of floating leaves or clouds to let go of distressing thoughts.

4. I try to use Wise Mind to question my perceptions. Is that really what happened? Am I reading into things that were said? If someone else had been there would their perception of what went on be different? Ultimately, it is useful to have trusted friends with whom I can test my reactions. Sometimes they confirm that I have not over reacted. Other times, they seek to reassure me that my feelings have distorted my perceptions of what went on. If possible, I have one or two friends who can check out with other people involved, sensitively what went on.

This is a learning process. When I become distressed in a situation or relationship, I am learning to withdraw and not react to what I perceive to be going on, until I have been able to manage my immediate emotional reaction. This is very important particularly when the emotion triggered is anger.

In the past, my reactions in some situations have appeared to others out of proportion. I have found their consequent attempts to appease me intensely patronising, as I could not see past my clouded perception of threat. I wonder if this goes some way to explaining some of the reactions from medical staff when I have become distressed and apparently uncontrollable?

It is as if a light has gone on in relation to some difficult experiences with medical professionals in the past. I have always felt that they were minimising my distress, when, in fact they could not possibly realise that my perception of the world around me was so threatening as to make my extreme fear understandable. Because I don't have a diagnosis which has as one of its main symptoms, psychosis, the idea of distorted perception of reality does not enter many people's reckoning. Including my own.

I am learning through recovery that I need to keep managing my condition. I am still absorbing the truth that I will never be totally 'cured' and so, I need to keep making use of the skills that have helped me in the past year or so. I am also continuing to explain, as I am able the impact of my condition on my day to day life. This process is helping me to become familiar with the things that bring me down, as well as practising the skills that help me bring stability back to my emotions.

In the Lion's Den

There are many lions to face in life. The challenges and difficulties that, if left unchecked, could devour me. The most fearsome of these for me and many with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) is the one called 'rejection' or, more accurately, 'fear of rejection'. Given that as a child my parents could ignore my needs and, my very presence, it is logical that, as an adult, I will have an almost unshakeable belief that there is something in me which causes people to ignore or reject me - out of hand, automatically, simply because I am me.

So, for me the very process of job hunting and applying for jobs feels like launching myself, bowed and bloody, into the den of the biggest, fiercest of all my lions.

Along with Simba, in the Lion King I proudly shouted 'Hah, I laugh in the face of rejection' as I recently launched myself into the once familiar process of CV writing and application letter preparation. I seem to do this well as I manage to get myself to interview stage quite often, and this is where I meet another of my lions. Hope. If job hunting ends at the application stage, then this smaller, possibly more sinister lion remains sleeping peacefully in the background. However, the period leading up to interview always results in him awaking and growing in stature.

A little something about me. My stuggles with depression and BPD aside, I am an eternal optimist. Hence, year after year, I would put all my efforts into constructing the perfect Christmas, overspending wildly in an effort to reconstruct my dysfunctional family into my version of the 'The Waltons'. So when it comes to any little shred of encouragement ie an invitation to attend interview for a hoped for job, I will become my optimistic twin sister, who has absolute self belief. Sham. All this does is build me up for a fall. Then again, I need to be able to summon from somewhere the wherewithal to keep job hunting and moving forward somehow. I guess this may be one of my flawed coping mechanisms, although I suspect I am not altogether different from most people. I mean if you can't see yourself in the role you're applying for, then how can you possibly sell it to any prospective employer?

So far, so average. The problem for me lies not in this side of the application process, but in the emotional fall out from such investment when I am unsuccessful. Apart from natural disappointment, the million and one hurts from all the rejections of my life add up to make for one massive cold, wet, Trout in the kisser! Along with mental tiredness and disappointment following the delivery of the bad news, the rejection lion roars out his 'told you so's'. I am reduced to a quivering wreck before him. Of course he's right, every time I try to move forward, I am bound to fail simply because that's what has always happened. I mean who would want to employ me, I am after all 'unemployable'. Along with this crushing sense of self defeat, I am also assailed by the roars of derision from Rejection and his pal, Hope, 'ha, fooled you into believing that you could be valued.' Again, the overwhelming realisation that of course there's no point in my ever trying to get a job, because no one wants to have me around them, full stop, let alone working for them.

There I am on the floor of the lions' den, with Rejection and Hope (or as he has now become), his alter ego, Despair, circling me, licking their lips. I have a choice at this point, I can either allow all the missiles coming from the ghosts of my past looking on with glee to keep me down, or I can stand up and face the lions.

It's either this or give up on ever finding an occupation which can provide me with an adequate income. There are enough obstacles to my satisfying any prospective employer, given my history of mental health, without me having to overcome my own emotional and historical 'lions'as well.

This is where my reasonably newly acquired DBT Skills need to be used in earnest. I need to manage my emotional distress, because it is not nice, after all when someone doesn't choose me for a job I obviously had thought I wanted. I need to acknowledge the disappointment and hurt, that's natural and understandable. I need to make myself control the negative thoughts that are my natural default - thought diffusion exercises help with this (Mindfulness). This is where my determination and fight need to begin, otherwise I have no hope of ever re-entering the workplace. I need to learn to validate myself, unlike other rejections a work rejection is not personal - hard when I am in the thick of it to grasp hold of, but I need to remind myself that my skills were not what they wanted. It is not me as a human being who has been rejected. This, again is hard for me, as most of my sense of validation in the past came from being a high achiever in work environments. I could manage my emotions when my mind was allowed to focus on the task in hand. At the moment in my life, I don't need to be validated as a person - I have people who love me who do that. So far so very DBT, reality is that I have to repeat the use of my skills over and over as waves of self condemnation wash over me, followed closely by cycles of anxiety about my future and my ability to provide for myself.

Right now, in between the crash of the waves, I am aware that I'm no longer in the lion's den. I have begun to stumble from the grasp of my lions. The emotional waves that are crashing on me, resemble the sound waves from their roars of derision. I need to grab hold of my bottle of lemonade, and prepare myself for the next time. There is no point in me feeling sorry for myself. Yes, I've had a lot to overcome, yes it feels as if I am due some good fortune, but that's not life as it is. For me to constantly expect that life should be fair, is the real definition of insanity. After all, I just wasn't right for THIS job.