Colour Me ____________ (write your desired feeling here)

In past blogs I have written about ways to self soothe, including activities which when practised mindfully, help me to bring my feelings into focus, stop the rising tides of unmanageable emotions and short circuit the cycles of increasing impulses to manage those emotions by turning in on myself. I am always really pleased when I encounter new ways that help me to build variety to suit my many moods.

Colouring has been one way that I introduced a while ago in a very simple exercise to colour in a heart in colours representing my mood. This has been a great simple tool when I have been unable to concentrate on anything more complex.

For my birthday this month I spent some of my birthday money on a copy of the 'Secret Garden' the best selling 'adult' colouring in book. Before I even get my pencils out of the box, there is a joy in the beautiful drawings. There is a treasure trove of variety and complexity, as well as a treasure hunt with things to look out for as I progress through the book.

Above all I am able use my time colouring in mindfully. One of my increasing struggles is to justify to myself spending time doing something which is not strictly 'productive'. Non judgement is essential to allow myself to enjoy choosing the colours and then the products of my time spent colouring.

The abstraction of colour allows me to become free from thinking in words or indeed numbers, which for me is a vital part of managing my emotions. In a sense my tendency as a wordy person is to veer towards 'rational mind' and use words to bring clarity to what is going on. Sometimes, though my emotions have exhausted me so much that words become confused and linear thought is impossible. Working my way through the floral complexities of 'The Secret Garden' (other pen and ink drawing colouring books are out there) there is no right and wrong way to begin. I can choose a page to match how much time I have, what I feel like doing. There is no colour key, I can randomly select colours and observe the outcome, without trying to impose colour discipline on the activity, or I can toy with colour combinations in a more organised way.

Here are some simple rules to help me relax into colouring make the most of the activity as mindful.

1) Whatever is going on around me or within me, anchor myself in the here and now. The act of holding the book and the pencil ensures that my feelings do not carrying me away through day dreaming or flashbacks.

2) Match my breathing to the action of colouring, so that physically I am addressing any tensions related to negative emotions such as anger or anxiety.

3) Don't allow the silence to tempt me to think about doing other things at the same time. It is tempting to follow other thoughts that may come related to my anxieties in particular. Here the mindful principles of observe, describe help to bring me back to noticing what is going on in the page as I colour.

4) Remember it doesn't have to be perfect. There is a freedom in colouring in without knowing the end result - or indeed caring what it will be. As a striver towards excellence all my life in the hope of acceptance this is incredibly soothing and helps me to give myself a 'break'.

How on Earth do you 'Deal with the Past'?

This is a question that used to really vex me. For years, because of a lack of understanding about my underlying emotional sensitivity in many counsellors and practitioners dealing with me, I came across comments like 'you need to get over the past', 'you need to simply acknowledge what was done to you', 'you need to recognise the hurting child inside' - simples, huh? Except no one seemed to be able to recognise that there was something missing in my ability to even recognise my emotional responses to my abusive past.

One rape counsellor, who I think was compassionate and probably usually effective in her work, became frustrated with my lack of ability to acknowledge the trauma I experienced as a child. Firstly, I tended to either describe my remembered experiences without any outward evidence of any emotional attachment or response to the experiences being described. Secondly, because they were my experiences, I did not perceive them in the same way as my hearers, because it was me, I minimised the trauma.

It was around this time that my GP and a Graduate Mental Health worker who was offering me brief CBT for work stress, began to ask if I thought that there was more to my emotional issues than met the eye. So began my journey to discover what my diagnosis was and how that related to my childhood experiences.

I have referred before to the description by Marsha Linehan of people with a Borderline PD diagnosis as having 'emotional third degree burns'. I have always assumed this refers to the unbearable emotional distress experienced by those with BPD. I think to an extent this aspect of the picture is true, although it was when watching a documentary about a burns unit, that I learned more about 3rd degree physical burns, and thereby shed additional light on Linehan's statement. 1st or 2nd degree burns are extremely painful, however the damage done when someone suffers third degree burns is so extensive as to destroy all normal physical sensations, this means that there is a point at which the pain is so severe as to render the wound site numb to all sensation. When I applied this aspect of the original image to my own experience of the emotional impact of my past on my psyche, it made absolute sense.

I have previously described how I was not aware I was experiencing high levels of distress prior to the crisis which prompted me to seek help once and for all for my emotional 'issues'. I was incapable of feeling anything at all, either good or bad. There had been times when the pain of my life was excruciating, but I had passed through first and second degrees to the third degree, in order to survive. Many survivors of childhood abuse recognise this distancing from the experiences they have survived. Dissociating or depersonalising my own experiences helped me to survive the experience of abuse in the past. It causes problems in the here and now because I have been so successful in separating myself from my experiences, that I am unable to connect in any meaningful way with my experience of life as an adult. Either good or bad.

In a very real way for most of my life, emotionally and mentally, I remained trapped in a loop reel, whereby the most traumatic experiences of my life were on constant replay, regardless of how long ago they happened to me.

"In a sense Music, along with the sense of smell tends to be the most powerful of ‘time machines’, usually with a default to the past....Mindfulness training and DBT exercises were focused on bringing me to and keeping me in the moment. However, one of my true pleasures in life was in danger of inadvertently causing me to ‘time travel’ to the past. I didn’t want to lose out on one of my real pleasures in life, just because of my overwhelming emotional responses to it. Not every memory is painful and it’s important to acknowledge that, even before recovery, my life was actually made up of shadows AND light." (from Blog: Music My Own Special TARDIS )

With this never ending stream linking me to the past, even the most seemingly everyday problem or difficulty would connect to the torrent of emotional distress just below the surface, so that terms like 'overreaction', 'out of proportion' and 'drama queen' were applied to me. For those on an emotional 'even keel' it seems almost impossible to imagine the almost physical pain caused when I face disappointments, dilemmas, arguments and problems which are the stuff of everyday life. For the survivor of childhood abuse these experiences are reminders and directly connect to the emotional pain of the abuse perpetrated. Everything seems to rip the scabs from the wounds over and over, so that even the most benign of human relationships becomes a minefield of anticipated terrors to be avoided.

The wrong thing to tell me is 'to just get over it'. Recent exposure of the issues around victims of historical abuse has brought to light the reality that for survivors of abuse, you just don't or can't 'get over it'.

Having survived my abusive life, I continue to be in the process of leaving it behind. I always thought that once I had gained the skills I needed from DBT I would be in a position to finally, 'deal with the past'. I assumed this would mean some form of Trauma counselling. However, I have found that the very practise of mindfulness and the emphasis in DBT on Acceptance of life ('It is what it is'), in this moment seem to be enough for me to feel I have begun to leave my past behind.

This blog post reflects my own journey, it is not a blueprint for dealing with the impact of trauma - my symptoms of trauma are my own and my path through is my own. Hopefully, if you continue to deal with the stream of painful memories and feelings from the past, then this may offer you some hope that there is a way through.

1. I Finally Accepted That I didn't ask for or 'deserve' what happened to me. This means accepting that I am maybe worth better than happened to me - something that was an alien thought even six months ago.

Acceptance is an important group of skills in DBT treatment. The original version of DBT does not offer specific therapy for PTSD. (Recently, however, a specific DBT skills module for PTSD has been developed. I am not sure how widely this is currently available in the UK) The DBT skill of Radical Acceptance, allows me to accept what happened and to begin to leave my experience of trauma in the past. I have accepted that not only have I survived, but I have been strengthened by my survival. The abusers can only have power over me, if I allow myself to remain in the prison cell of the past. I carry the scars of the past and they may have shaped me, but I do not have to remain imprisoned by past experiences.

2. I have learned to trust my experience of the present as I have used mindfulness skills to focus on life as it is in this moment. I am no longer 'absent' - I've stopped 'time travelling' and am able to be 'present' - this means that I don't get bored as often as I used to. Also, it means I am able to give more effectively to those I am engaged with.

3. I have learned to name my feelings and to recognise when anxiety, fear, sadness, guilt etc from the past is distorting my perceptions of the present. I used to distrust pleasant feelings, like hope and happiness because they meant that the darker feelings and moments were more painful in contrast. Now I have learned to enjoy what I am able to enjoy for what it is. It has taken me a long time to say goodbye to the damaged child of yesterday and to reconnect with the adult I am today. That child remains a part of who I am, but her emotional paralysis no longer keeps me frozen in the past.

4. I have decided that the skills I have learned to manage my BPD are enough for me to accept the pain and grief about the past, without having to go back and relive it or do any sustained work on addressing what happened to me. Having denied and minimised it for so many years, the fact that I have been able to accept that I was a victim of abuse has been enough for me to be able to move forward.

It is important for me to emphasise that specific PTSD therapies are helpful for others as the symptoms of PTSD may continue become intrusive following other therapies for complex mental health conditions - each person knows their own needs better than anyone else.

'Dealing with the past' is not something that we can 'do' as a one-off-give me-the-silver-bullet solution. From the moment I first experienced the trauma I have been dealing with it. What I have learned is that at different points in my life I have developed strengths and skills that I have used to deal with the consequences of the past.

"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..." (my blog 'Return to the Forbidding Planet:

I am pleased that I am no longer a hostage to a torrent of pain and distress streaming into my day to day life. Looking back I realise this is because of a process and time, along with the moment by moment determination to use my mindfulness skills to keep me focused on life in this moment. I have also permitted myself to enjoy the good things in life, gradually.

A Visual Tool for DBT Opposite Action

When I am overwhelmed by negative emotions and can't find a way to anchor my thinking, I use some tools that have been designed to help children. And why not? Since when do we think that only children respond to colour, visual stimulus and fun when learning? I have never been a traditional learner - I was a nightmare at school because I couldn't focus well when required to just sit still and 'learn' I need my learning to be vivid, active and engaging.

As a person with BPD my whole life has been full of drama and interest, and it's not always meant negative things. I am an interesting person to know and talk to. I do need tools that help me to manage the extremes of my emotions. This simple tool helps me to find a way through the fog of negativity about my life to be able to use 'opposite action' and 'opposite emotion' DBT Skills.

Some aspects of my life may not be as colourful or full as others and this helps me to see that. Equally it helps me to see those aspects of my day to day life which can help me feel better. No matter how much it feels like it - no life is either all good or all bad. I found a picture on Pinterest which says: 'Don't let a bad day make you believe you have a bad life.' It is a little trite, but there is a grain of truth in it, especially if I am trying to make sense of the whole of my life - no matter how bad some days are at the moment I know I have survived worse. I like having the completed image this tool creates it's a reminder that the bright moments, shine brighter because of the darker moments. If I can focus on these moments one by one as they happen, I can learn to enjoy them for what they are in the here and now.

The tool also helps me to define the things that are important to me. This is essential for those times when I feel 'all at sea' emotionally and need a reminder of my core values - what matters to me and therefore, what gives me meaning in living.

The other thing this tool gives me is a focus for mindfulness and I can enjoy colouring 'in the moment' once I've written in the names of the people and things that are good in my life. When I come back to it after some time I find that some of these remain constant, but others can change and I may have changed too, so that maybe I can see more of the good about my life. It's great to keep them as a record of good things when I have those 'I hate my life' days or weeks!

I'm Still Standing - But I'm Not Standing Still

Pilgrim
by Dom Helder Camara

when your ship,
long moored in harbour, gives the illusion
of being a house;
when your ship
begins to put down roots
in the stagnant water by the quay: put out to sea!
save your boat's journeying soul and your own pilgrim soul,
cost what it may.

I had my final DBT therapy session nearly a month ago now. Contrary to my fears about it, my world didn't end, I didn't suddenly forget everything I have learned and practised over the past year or more and I didn't suddenly revert to the worst self-destructive crises of my BPD. Suddenly, I realise I am still standing - more than that I have not stopped making progress. I know from cycling and other 'balancing acts' that if you stop moving forward, you fall off. Choice: keep going forward, go back or fall off. Seems simple when I put it like that. Having decided to keep going forward, I am noticing that my BPD and the emotional storms that accompany it no longer control my decision making and day to day experiences of life.

Don't get me wrong. I still experience moments of panic, anxiety, sadness and anger, but no longer are they extremes of these emotions which take me over and leave me empty and desolated. More than anything I have noticed that I am no longer overwhelmed by formless clouds of nameless emotions. Instead, I am able to slow my mind down enough to recognise what the emotion I am feeling is. I can name them. In the past they felt like formless ghosts haunting me and attacking me seemingly at random.

I have had to work hard to get to this point. On a daily basis I need to practice good self care - eating, sleeping, drinking, exercising, not letting my emotions control my routines, but allowing my routines to help me manage my emotions. Primarily, rather than me relying on medication or on 'experts' who appear to know more about my BPD than me to help me, I have learned skills that can help me without having to phone an anonymous voice, or wait on someone else's diary for consultations or treatment. I have the ability to 'manage' what used to control me. It does not mean that I no longer suffer moments of panic or crisis, instead it means I no longer have to risk rejection by asking again for help.

More than that, I am beginning to build a life that is less turbulent and prone to significant 'meltdowns'. It has taken me some time to adjust to life without the battles. Almost like taking time to unwind on holiday - we never manage to be able to relax from day one, because it takes time to let our minds and bodies 'know' it's okay not to be on high alert. In the past I expected to be betrayed in all relationships, I anticipated moments when suddenly my ability to cope with everyday life would end and my life as I was living it at any given time would grind to a halt. These patterns had repeated for me so often, that I even managed, on occasions, to self destruct and pre-empt rejection, abandonment and failure. By doing this I was reinforcing destructive patterns throughout a period of 40 plus years. Then, I realised that it was possible to stop anxiety from distracting me from enjoying 'the moment' about 9 months into practicing mindfulness. What I wasn't so certain of was, whether I could continue to be able to do this outside of the structures of group skills and the regular one to one sessions of therapy.

It is frightening when you have battled to ask for the help that you need for most of your life, finally be offered it, then accept it and find that you are able to move forward, to then realise, that, because of that progress the help will come to an end. However, just as it is sad when adult children are unable to move away from the family 'nest' and establish lives and 'families' of their own, so any therapy which creates dependence rather than helping me to achieve the management of my condition, is not helpful to me in the long term. I continue to require anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medication as part of my stabilisation. I have learned to accept that, for the moment, that is okay. I am so much better than I was, but I still have a complex mental health condition to manage. I welcome the help and contact that is offered, but one day this support will be withdrawn. If it is managed well, as with the ending of DBT, then I will be more than ready for it. If not, then as so many have found it can be traumatic and detrimental to the progress made.

I have only started on my journey to overcome BPD. I am beginning to test myself and my new skills out in different settings. I am pleased to have sustained some honest relationships where I can begin to trust myself to 'feel' close to other human beings. Only in the past couple of weeks have I begun to be able to express affection towards my friends. I know this process started when I realised I was 'fond' of my dog and learned to speak to her with affection. Now, difficult people don't distress me in the way they did in the past. They have not changed, I have learned to recognise the emotional responses in me, to name the emotions and manage those emotions appropriately.

In the past it was easier to not even try to have any significant human interaction. In return my close friends are supportive and encouraging. I have surrounded myself with positive people who aren't dependent on funding or resources to stick by me. They accept me in the real world and what is best of all, I am able to sustain my relationships in the real world. So, there is no fear of what happens when 'reality' steps in. This is the main difference between coping in the therapeutic setting and coping in 'live' situations. One is 'safe' and allowed me to explore and practice skills to manage my triggers appropriately. My transition from therapy has helped me to see that I can use those same skills in everyday life and though I can't control the outcomes, I can accept that I am doing my best to manage my own life. And that brings a real sense of achievement. I was so encouraged the other day when a friend said to me 'Look at you, you are doing so well and it is shining out from you.' I hadn't sought validation, it was a natural part of our interaction together and an indication that we have a positive relationship. Now I can recognise people who are good (and bad) for me and stop wasting time on those who will bring me down. What is crucial to recognise in this process is that from day one my therapy was preparing me for the ending. However, because I was offered nearly two years of therapy (which included tapering and 'proper' exit strategy) I have been given time to move from intensive to 'light touch' therapy seamlessly. 'Ciff Face' endings particularly for BPD only create distress and ongoing need and dependence - in my humble opinion.

At the heart of DBT is the twin concept of 'Acceptance' and 'Change'. I accept my life as it is today, but I continue to work towards changing those things that I want to change, to continue to make my life better. I'm still standing, but I don't stand still I keep moving on and actively pursuing 'a life worth living' (Marsha Linehan).