There are Still 'Bad' Days

The thing is, outside of my emotion fogged vision of 'how life should be', it's actually not easy for anyone. That little realisation has taken me so long to get to, it's not funny. We're all guilty of it; that conviction that 'everyone else' somehow is living a gilded, perfect life. The belief that 'if only...', my life would be problem free and perfect. As I have learned to deal with the nuclear emotional fallout from the combination of my biological predisposition and impact of social environments, I have learned to be less focused on my own storms and able to see more clearly the world and people around me. The grass is always greener...? Only if I am entirely focused on my internal struggles.

The impact of mindfulness is often described as suddenly feeling 'awake' to life in the here and now. For me, practising mindfulness and DBT skills is not about distancing myself from my experience of 'real' life. Rather, it is to replace coping mechanisms which cushioned me and separated me from both the environments and relationships I was living through. In a sense those skills which helped me survive trauma and the symptoms of mental illness, actually built a wall of 'bubble wrap' around me which became so deep that my emotional experience eventually became total 'numbness'. Recovery has meant that I am able to feel and experience life as it is. I do feel more aware and more awake to life more clearly. It is not distorted by either emotional responses which cause me to be terrified of my life experience, or those emotional responses which are so maniacally 'happy' that they deny the impact of real day to day difficulties which are part of life.

As I have moved from clinging on by my fingertips in the most terrible emotional storms, to a mix of calm and 'choppy' emotional experiences (ie 'normal' life), I have the energy to recognise more clearly life as it is in the here and now and, more importantly the emotional energy to cope with everyday ups and downs.

The picture I have in mind is the difference between the scenes from 'The Perfect Storm' where a small vessel is tossed about mercilessly and hopelessly on huge waves, beyond which it is impossible to see, to the kind of 'swell' which is more common, where waves can be felt and seen, but where the ultimate destination can be seen beyond. That is the difference between, 'before' and 'after' skills and learning how to use them to manage my emotions.

So, here I am at a time of year that is not the most uplifting, recognising that I am having a few 'bad' days. The difference for me now is that I can see beyond these days, that I am certain, 'this too will pass'. The other thing is that any fears I have that 'bad' days mean I am relapsing back to the previous 'Perfect Storm' days are unfounded. I have moved from merely surviving and existing, to a life which is meaningful and worthwhile. As long as I continue to build on the skills I have learned and use the helpful techniques that help me manage aspects of life that other people may take for granted, then my internal as well as external life will more closely reflect the life experience of most people.

Mindfulness and the Art of watching Foreign Film

It used to be considered slightly pretentious to enjoy foreign language films. I remember when I and my uni friends endured rather than enjoyed turgid epics of incomprehensible philosophy in the guise of entertainment, just because someone we admired had told us it was a 'must see'. Another three hours I'll never see again.

In the last couple of years though, we have been introduced to the best of world television and you know what? It's really quite enjoyable. I've also found that watching programmes in a foreign language actually forces me to focus in a more mindful way. I cannot multi task, I can't let my mind wander - at least not without having to rewind. I don't watch foreign language television close to bed time - it's too stimulating. If you really must know, a good dose of Dave's output is enough to push me over into the land of nod, or at least to release myself from the iron grip of 'TV drift' as I reach for the remote. Foreign language television forces me to stop using the TV as wallpaper and to think about what I am getting from my television experience.

Before I was introduced to mindfulness I thought that my television habits were a useful way to escape from difficult emotions. But when I considered how I was watching, I realised the sheer immersive joy I once experienced as a child had been lost. TV had become bubble gum for my mind, and gum which had long ago lost any flavour or pleasure. This reflected by general inability to engage with life at that time. As I began to notice the world I inhabited again, as my concentration returned with treatment, I rediscovered my enjoyment of film.

That was in time to take advantage of the rise in really good foreign drama appearing on our screens. In addition to having to focus on following the story, it widens my horizons. London, New York, Manchester, LA, they've become over familiar. I love being exposed to different landscapes - yes when nordic, they're bleak, but it's really fascinating to see that their doors open outwards - I'm guessing so the snow doesn't fall inside??
So here they are my top foreign picks:

The Bridge (Series 1 & 2) - Danish with brilliant interplay between the Swedish and Danish cops. Copied as the Tunnel in English - good but definitely lacking something.

Isabel - Spanish Epic and really engrossing historical drama based on the life of Katherine of Aragon's Mum.

The Legacy - Danish family drama - simple idea but really delivers - apparently there'll be a second series.

Crimes of Passion - Swedish about a crime writer (female) set in the early 60s - funny too - at times.

Arne Dahl - Swedish Police Drama - what they call 'gritty'.

Wallander - Swedish and British - Love both versions something just quality about both.

Mammon - Swedish political thriller

And currently I'm watching my way through 'Spiral' French - excellent gritty police drama - with female leads.

Of course there's the Killing but I found that my recovery started too late for me to jump on that particular wagon.

When I need to get really absorbed and lose myself for a while, I set the TV up, switch off the lights and prepare to pay attention to the subtitles!

Touch - finding my way back

TRIGGER WARNING: Discussion of Childhood Sexual Abuse

I don't do hugs. It's one of 'those' things - touch. I have blogged about using all the senses in mindfulness, but for me touch is a major problem area. I'm not alone: it is for anyone who has suffered childhood sexual or physical abuse. From as far back as I can remember, my sense of appropriate touch has been disorientated by the stinging hand on bare flesh or the violating fingers of those who are my most intimate relations. Where do I begin to make sense of intimacy if those who 'love' me most, who are my flesh and blood, swing between physical or sexual assault?

I have no desire to relive every stinging blow, or every violating touch, but I do acknowledge that my history of relationships has been marked by repeated attempts to make sense of the disconnect between my physical and emotional responses to touch. I have belittled myself in attempts to feel close to people, whilst inspiring the rejection I have tried so hard to escape - I mean who wants to stay with a doormat? At the same time, with those who genuinely cared for me and attempted to show their love appropriately, I found myself distrusting and disconnecting myself from enjoying moments of true intimacy where my emotional instinct could have worked in sync with my partners' desires for intimacy: who wants to be with someone who beats you up emotionally for the crime of loving them? Instead of trying to work through the difficulties of these relationships I ran from them straight into the arms of those who would treat me as 'I deserved'. In the end after so many years and failed relationships I came to the end of myself and have lived in self imposed 'purdah' avoiding as much physical contact as possible.

It is probably the most difficult aspect of my life's experience to talk about. It goes so deeply to who we are as people, to how we connect with the world around us. There is a need for those of us who struggle with BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) to connect emotionally with the world around us. Beyond that, though, to be able to connect with people and to be able to function within intimate relationships, we need to be able to construct an understanding of the importance and healing power of the 'right touch'. More than that, we need to rebuild the shattered sense of self which has resulted from our formative years. If I don't have a clear sense of who I am, of what makes me tick, what hope does anyone have who wants to love me? Anyone wanting to love me finds themselves on constantly shifting sand, because I am unable to pin down who I am or even whether I deserve my place in this world, let alone in their affections.

Those who fail to understand the importance of justice for the victims of historical abuse fail to understand the all pervasive and long lasting impact of such offences on those who have survived them. It goes to the very core of who I am. It takes time to rebuild my shattered self image. How do I find an accurate reflection of who I am, if my family, those to whom I am genetically and historically connected, were unable to validate who I am from day one?

In disconnecting myself from the world around me in an effort to survive the emotional fallout from my childhood, I have enclosed myself within a prison through which, even the most determined of people fail to penetrate. The isolation is both a friend and foe. If no one touches me (emotionally) - no one is able to touch me (physically). My need at the point where I can begin to feel again is to break these walls down so that I can connect at the deepest level with those around me.

Other aspects of my recovery and practice of skills which help me manage my BPD are in my control. This aspect of recovery, though takes the active participation and acceptance of another human being. One of my favourite sayings used to be 'I don't do human beings'. To me the whole human race was suspect because I effectively had been rejected from the moment I arrived on earth. The sense of alienation is not unique to me, many people with complex mental health conditions feel like outsiders.

For over a decade I was unable to connect with anyone or anything emotionally, let alone experience anything of significance through my senses. Now that I am able to identify and allow myself to experience a widening range of feelings and sensations, I feel that I need to be able to move on to connecting with those who I have allowed to be part of my world.

My steps towards intimacy have to be progressive - healing takes time and small steps I can cope with.

1. I started with a Hamster. I had been isolated for a number of weeks following a really bad bout of proper 'flu and one of my friends gave me my first pet since my childhood - I was 31. His name was Haffertee Hamster and I trained him to spend ages running through my hands, to greet me when I came home from work and to do other little tricks. Through caring for him I was able to feel less useless, as well as having the soothing sensation of a small furry running through my hands. In my childhood, dogs, cats and ponies were the only safe touches I experienced. That and the sensation of water on my skin - I trained for my swimming six days a week, twice a day - it was almost an alien cocoon, protecting me from the world around me. When I was diagnosed with BPD at the age of 42 I was badly in need of safe touch. I had rescued three cats, and that was enough for a while, then Smilla came along - I love her for her dependability and her patience when I make her stand and receive 'cuddles' - she is so big and fluffy I can stand and hold her for as long as I need.

2. I have allowed myself to feel sensual again. I love smellies, perfumes, silks, cotton. As a child I sucked my thumb while rubbing cotton and/or silk - it is soothing. Truth be told, there are still times when I suck my thumb - the sensation is still soothing. For a long time I tried to live my life as asexual - trying to block any attraction to either gender as I was abused by both. Anyone who has survived sexual abuse will recognise the belief that there must be something in 'me' that makes 'me' susceptible to being abused. I believed that if I stopped the things which encouraged my femininity it would stop any abuse - unfortunately, it didn't work because the desire to abuse another human being lies not in the abused but in the abuser, so sexual assaults from a range of people in different contexts continued up until I was 40. I want to reclaim my enjoyment of my body, the sense of freedom I felt as a teenager when skinny dipping, the ejoyment of the fact that I do have womanly curves - my hourglass figure is re-emerging from years of obesity because I no longer need to protect myself from enjoying my own body. I have learned to be confident enough in myself to respect my needs as much as I respect the needs of others. It is a steep learning curve, but I will keep trying.

3. I am willing to accept compliments. I am getting noticed again, or rather I am taking notice of the fact that I'm getting noticed! It is nice to feel that there is nothing wrong or sinister when a man compliments my figure or face.

This is another beginning. It is something that is central to my recovery, yet something that I could not begin to discuss with those in charge of my care. When discussing touch as an aspect of Mindfulness practice it is important to bear in mind that the long term impact of self soothe touch is incalculable when helping people without me having to reiterate the exact wounds I need to be healed from.