Taking care

"Christ,", oh such a blasphemous uttering for a good Catholic woman who had just taken her eldest daughter to her first reconciliation that very day. "Your shoulder are like they are made of stone". Not a reference to power or strength but tension of at times unbearable pressure I have accumulated. I sat on the floor on a pillow as my wife tried in vein to untie the knots of days upon days upon years of tensing up from the world of consciousness. Such a little sin was nothing compared to my colorful expletives in reaction to pushing on muscles that don't won't pushed upon and feel like brick until pressurised. But hey I am a heretical old sod who has no god to answer to so no need to worry. No joke though they are tight knots that with a squeeze don't ease and instead feel like they are going to break.

Squeeze your hand. Squeeze it as hard as you can. Keep it there for as long as you can. Not very comfortable is it but when it gets too much you realise. That is what my shoulders and neck are like but I have no way of releasing the pressure. Bloody pest it is to. Making the mental effort to relax and loosen makes no difference as its in a constant state of tension and is accumulated. Its not all anxiety though that is the largest part. We need a knew mattress as I notice I feel this at is most intense once a week- the one day I get to lie on in the morning. Something about that old mattress ain't good when I get the bed to myself for the latter part and for a longer sleep than usual. Its just over 6 years old and I've tried turning it but it was worse. Other things are a possible unlikely weakness from whiplash many years ago in a train crash or maybe even that rogue bin bag that tore muscles in my upper back which still causes me grief. There was a period where I thought I had high blood pressure because I'd have spells of tension in my face which felt like it was about to explode but investigating further I found on every occasion my neck was tight with tension which was probably the cause.

It leads me to talking about sleep. I was trying today to think of some positives over the course of 4-7 years and I think I have found one. One little bit of resilience brought on by circumstance and thankfully relative decent physical health. My eldest daughter is 7.5 years old and apart from a spell of flu a few months after she was born I have not spent much time in bed. By that I mean I've never said to my wife I need to stay in bed rather than get up because I can't. I suppose it illustrates if you have to you do. So many mornings I just haven't wanted to get up whether it be because I didn't sleep until the very early hours, I just couldn't face the day ahead or both. But I always have done and I suppose that is one positive illustration that I still have some inner strength in there somewhere.

Anyway enough moaning. Just wanted to illustrate that anxiety can be more than "just worry". Agoraphobia can be more than just playing safe at home not brave enough to venture out out. Panic is not just about that period it resides but its the peak of a growing anxious state which had longer term effects on the body. Many actually. Tension that it brings leads to a greater general tension which in turn causes aches, perceived breathing issues, visual problems and a whole host of other things which perversely cause more anxiety in a self perpetuating cycle.

I think though in my case at least a lot is to do with looking at yourself and managing reaction better. My fuse is too short. Anger and stress come to easy. Its something recently I have been looking closely at and trying to approach better. Even if I fail I look and wonder whether I really needed to burst a blood vessel because the kids defied me. A mix of cabin fever from being incarcerated and young energetic children needing an outlet is a potent mix. But I am the adult, the parent, and the one who can act differently. So better self management and a course of massage abuse from the wife are on the agenda on my search for personal inner peace.

Living without fear

I read a very interesting article on the BBC news website today entitled "The Woman who cannot feel fear". Quite incredible actually even just as a proposition. Is living without fear a good thing? You may have read some time ago for example about the Kakapo who lived without fear because they lived in a place that was devoid of any natural predators so evolved with a fearless state. Makes you realise why in today's age fear is on the increase along with stress, worry and a general rush and pressure to get things done. I wonder if you lived on a remove island if over generations a human would also evolve to be fearless? Anyway, it may not be a good thing. Sure no panic or anxiety would suit me but it can also be a dangerous thing if circumstances change. Like the Kakapo who were quite willing to sit placid, be picked up and placed in a cooking pot when man first set foot on their island because they did not have the fear response to protect them.

I'll leave you to read the article if you would like but I found it fascinating. A similar story to the Kakapo in fact in that during tests this woman was actually ready to pick up a Tarantula devoid of fear but filled with curiosity which could have had a most sticky end. I wonder if anyone would trade with her. Being fearless may not actually be it is all it is cracked up to be and like all things maybe for ourselves it balance we should be striving for.

One other interesting thing is the mention of the amygdala and how this woman, according to the study, has "focal bilateral amygdala lesions" which is basically a structural fault and from this the study group, oh I hate these groups too, have decided that the amygdala is in fact the fear centre. Its just a pity this theory has been tarnished previously because of pathetic methods attaching their stupidity to the science with claims that you can control the amygdala through distracting yourself. This group have surmised though that the amygdala could be key to treating PTSD- though why PTSD alone I don't know as surely all anxiety disorders are interrelated and based on the one emotion of fear.

Thought it might be worth a look.

The shutdown

It was very eerie. I walked down my street and it was so quiet, pitch black but also misted over with a freezing fog. Nothing moving until I saw on the main road a car crawl by in front of me almost silent. As I approached the main road I saw the shapes of people walking on the road around between the few slow moving cars. Closer I saw them limp along. It was like a scene from "The day after tomorrow" with the world covered in a white blanket and the few inhabitants around looking like lost souls. When I went to walk on the main path I found why they were all walking on the road as my feet almost went from under me. It was solid and not something you would want to fall on. Instead of the road I stuck to the knee deep snow at the side of the path which was heavy going. So quiet and dark and strange. I walked less than half a kilometre and could see the dual carriageway ahead clogged with parked cars and lights out like they had all been abandoned. It really sent shivers down my spine. It felt like the early hours of the morning but it was only six in the evening. I headed back wanting to go further but feeling panic rise again.

What a weird old day. Quickly I want to get something out of the way. I've had more panic than usual of late but not what I would call a full blown panic attack for a while- the jolt and completely beyond control panic. Last night I had one which crested around seven and then surfed on that crest for an hour. For an hour after it subsided and never quite went but that was good enough for me and then the same thing happened again for another hour. I've never had anything like that before and wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy as I was climbing walls with agitation and just wanted to rip my brain to pieces- horrible. It was little surprise that today I woke filled with dread and all day I have been fighting panic still. This morning I really couldn't see a way to make it through the day because I was stuck on inward mode and couldn't escape the darkness. There is an vague agitation of some sort in the background threatening to peak into panic which I can only assume is unspent adrenalin from the night before but even approaching midnight as I type this it is still there. My neck, shoulders and back are taut to the point of snapping and this ambiguous dark cloud keeps trying to chase me from any state of relaxation.

Anyway that out the way, I went to the window this morning when I got up to see the world was starting to return to normal. Paths and gardens and other areas were still thick with snow but the roads were clear, the sky was clear and traffic moved as normal. My wife took the kids to school and when she returned I was feeding the boy his breakfast on my lap. She was sodden and told me it had started to snow. I couldn't believe the change when I finished and went to the window. The sky was white, the ground was white and the snow kept falling. Although the sky was occluded I didn't think it would last long but it never stopped.

When the phone rang at half one I told my wife it would be the school. It wasn't. It was her work to tell her they were shutting down and so she didn't have to work the backshift. When she came off the phone she called the school and they told her they were in the processing of shutting down the school. When my wife and girls came home my wife said nothing was moving. The whole town had shut down. And watching the news shortly after I found it wasn't only our town but right across the central belt of Scotland the world had shutdown.

I have had such a hard time this last 36 hours but it is nothing compared to some. My wife spent the rest of the night relaying Facebook posts. Her friend's husband had abandoned his car and walked the 9 miles home in deep snow. Her friend from work had been in her car for seven hours and finally decided to ditch the car, an hour after I was out, to walk the 12 miles home not even kitted out for that weather in the cold, dark and freezing fog. Neighbours had walked home from neighbouring towns in blizzards and deep snow for miles.

I can't remember anything like this in Scotland. In my life I had driven in blizzards and never been stuck for more than an hour or too. Never to the point of having to abandon the car for a long hike. I watched the news later at night and people are still stranded. Some with young children too. It just seemed to come out of the blue and I am thankful that I am not one of those people but my heart really does go out to those who have been stranded. I can't even begin to imagine what they were going through. I just hope most if not all are snuggly tucked up in bed now.

According to the Met Office there is no snow forecast for the rest of the week. If so then again things might return to normal. The chaos on the streets its kind of a relfection of my own head at this point of time so I am well up for a positive change on both fronts. The sooner the better. The schools are shut tomorrow and I'll be up with the kids tomorrow hoping I do not wake up beneath the ice again trying to punch my way out. Oh god I've got to stop being such a drama queen.

Stand Still

I can't remember the last time the snow brought everything to a halt. It has happened in my life time but I cannot remember the last time it was so long ago. And I've lived in different places. Today though that is what happened. As I said in my last post things were slowing down but even then I didn't think it would come to stand still but it did. Living in Scotland you get used to adverse weather and to be honest looking out at the day I have seen a hell of a lot worse but the council thought differently.

Yesterday with just over 2 hours left of school to go the council decided all schools in the county should be shut and so did most other counties. Why I don't know because parents had already dropped kids off and the weather didn't get any worse. Their decision meant thousands, I expect, of parents and carers around the country had to make instant arrangements, leave work, etc. for the sake of just over 2 hours. My wife for example had to leave work early and luckily could only get away with doing so because her manager is off this week and then she had to walk through the snow to school and back. The council decided also that all schools in the county would be shut today not taking individual cases into consideration and today we had to wait until after two in the afternoon for them to make up their mind whether they were going to close them tomorrow too.

So the girls had a day off school and despite a long talk last night I opened one eye at the crack of dawn this morning to see them approaching my wife's side of the bed. The reason it turned out was they wanted to know if they could open the advent calender. So I got up and allowing my wife to sleep on gave them a lecture about waking up their mum when she was trying to catch up on sleep. The thing is all week they have been reluctant to get out of bed for school and in a foul mood when they do but a day off they are up earlier than usual of their own volition. But as I spoke I realised they were excited, they don't understand and they have a dad who at the moment just gets angry at the slightest thing.

You probably read it in the tone of this post that I do let things get under my skin very easily. I have a long list. Apparently because we have a combi boiler we can't install a shower so we have to rely on those one that cling to the taps and for the life of me I can't understand that stupid design on rubber trying to cling to a wet, usually, metal surface and being forced backs. Straps surely to secure it. I mean if you were trying to hold on to a pipe that had water jetting out of it surely you would strap yourself to the pipe rather then try to hold on to the mouth of it with a giant plunger. Metal teas spoons, what is the point? I thought that couldn't be topped until one day my wife decided to through out her old pots and pans and buy new ones. She came back with these all-metal variety. Surely there is a design stage and surely someone thought that the handle might get hot. I don't cook on the stove much but if I still get caught out with these bloody things picking up a hot metal handle to move it.

My wife has told me many times I need to calm down and also that I need to get off the kids' back. Although today I came to the realisation that I do need to calm myself down and not get so worked up I'm not in total agreement about the kids. I do need to stop getting so wound up by them but at the same time I am the only one who gives them any discipline and this is undermined by my wife who prefers not to be the bad one. Nothing bad in that but they are defiant at times and cheeky and act in ways I would never have gotten away with when I was their age. As an example my I put the kids to bed tonight and my oldest got up to go to the toilet, heard my wife in the kitchen and although I told her to go to bed she walked right past me as if I was not there into the kitchen. I knew what for. Its like groundhog day. Apart from being angry at being ignored and giving another lecture that fell on deaf ears I explained the her mum has one proper meal a day not breakfast, lunch, dinner and snacks inbetween like herself. I explained that she should be allowed to eat that meal in piece but my wife said she could have a little bit which as usual turned into her eating about a third of my wife's dinner and my wife having crisps after because she was still hungry. Little things but I worry that the lack of discipline is doing them no good and also that my place in the household as father has moved because of my anxiety problems to one more akin to older brother.

That aside though I have been trying harder today not to blow that short fuse which wasn't always easy with 3 hyperactive kids in a small room who speak like the have fog horns attached to their vocal chords. They are constantly fighting over toys or what to watch or what they are playing and constantly winding each other up. Just being kids. If you haven't been there as a parent then you will I am sure remember it well as a child. That is the way things are. And I have managed to get on top of it today and had no panic too which is not the norm these days. I have been more tired this evening than I usually am and I think that is because I also feel more relaxed than usual.

We did have a good day today and made the most of the day off. In the photo above my oldest is holding an icicle she spotted on the roof outside her bedroom window and her mum leaned out and got it. I took the oldest icicle spotting around the local area seeing if we could find bigger and better than the last. On the church across the road from us there is a beauty which I hope doesn't ever fall on some passing soul. I noticed there are snowball marks dotted around it where kids have tried to bring it down but it would take a chainsaw. While my wife turned over the engine I was going to make a snowman with the kids but it was too fluffy and wouldn't stick together but we mucked about in the snow. Even the boy has taken to throwing it at me. It was cut short though when the youngest girl started crying from the cold. Although the air is not cold being in the snow is so to shorten her pain I took the kids upstairs and then later went for another walk with the oldest. All in all a good day.

With the schools re-opening tomorrow I think the stand still is over and the world is beginning to turn again. No snow predicted for the weekend anyway and it will soon be business as usual in this little town. I think today though was a vital lesson for me about watching my own feelings and how better to deal with them. In turned from something I was dreading into something good so that is something I should be looking to do more of.

Snow falls

My wife came in yesterday with the boy and a bulging carrier bag, She'd been to the doctor with all 3 kids before dropping the girls of at school. Multiple infections and a bag full of remedies. Yes its winter alright.

I've been a miserable sod during this period. Cold and dark are not my favourite combination. I read the other day that 1/3 of Scottish homes can't afford to put the heating on and this is before the government begin cutting off the financial lifelines and also while the energy companies yet again bump of the bills for this time of year. Depressing. Mind you my wife reminded me that when we were young we did without heating. There was no central heating back then. He had a 3 bar electric fire which rarely got turned on. No double glazing either so there was sometimes ice on the inside of the frames. I remember eating cereal before school on the settee wrapped in my quilt. Maybe things are just to easy nowadays and think of those poor souls who have to live on the street.

My mood changed last night as I stood at the window watching my drab grey world be painted white in a snow globe scene. I don't mind the cold if you get the visuals with it and winter snow can be a thing of beauty. It lifts my spirits no end, I love it. Though it does have its downside too for this agoraphobic. We've just been getting out in the car again and that is knocked in the head now which was my downward turning point last year- also this current trend of my mind questioning what will happen if the car breaks down. Walking is also troublesome too. I have boots with think grips but I seem to be all over the place. Most concerning though is the boy. On Thursday he got his cast removed and they told my wife to make sure he doesn't run about and fall. No chance of taking him out then at the moment and what chance do you have of stopping an energetic 2 year old from running about?

For some reason at the moment I seem to be entrenched in or near a panic cycle. Its there all the time. When I am not in it I am fighting my way away from it but it keeps coming. Its my own fault mostly. The other day for example it seemed to come out of the blue and wouldn't go away. It was like bordering on panic, like the throws of drowning it. It was burning up reserves needlessly. I then had to go around to the shops and meet my wife. Then we went for a 10 mile drive and when we came back I had soup and a baguette for lunch. After this I felt fine. So the truth is I need to do more. This current cycle is apprehension through fear of consequence which then leads to not doing and more apprehension and guilt. Its important to get out there- even if it means you come running back quickly. At least try.

With this white blanket draped over my little world I am in better spirits. I have the legs to get out there and start living less of my day in my head and that is exactly what I plan to do. The camera is gathering dust so its about time I started making use of it again. I'm becoming more aware of this inner dialogue and maybe just slowly starting to tackle it or maybe just obsessing about it.

We all have a voice in our head that we have no control over. Its volume or impact dictates our behaviour. It dictates between being perceived, even by yourself, what is normal and what is not. For people with anxiety problems they can remember a time when they were "normal". Did the voice shout loudly then? No it didn't and I'm sure we were unaware of it but it is there in all of us however loudly or silently. Tourettes being one of the most extreme cases. A person doesn't want to swear, does all they can not to but still a relfex of the mind makes them do it. Its unstoppable. Like OCD there are thoughts which bulldoze their way in and out making the person a bystander. Its no different with anxiety. The thoughts are automatic and seemingly unstoppable which is why anyone who thinks you can "just get over it" is wrong. I think we all know just how intense these automatic thoughts and sensations are and just how helpless we feel against them.

There was though a time when this was not the case. Its a conditioned state I believe and as such can be unravelled. I don't know how but there must be a way of undoing. In fact I am beginning to think there is and it is in action. Its about being a little bit brave and not fearing consequence and challenging it each day within reason and thereby conditioning new experience. No easy thing I grant you but something that may not lead back to the time before but will at least lift some of the anxious weight. I can see that in my own situation this time last year when I was much better than I am now or at any other time this year.

So I guess what I am trying to say is the snow is here and the world is more welcoming and I see it as an opportunity to venture out more. That is what I plan to do. I want to go out and enjoy it instead of watching from the window. I love it when the snow falls.

The origin of human suffering

I've been looking through some anxiety stuff and the different facets of helping in recovery. One of the most interesting I found was concerning meditation. Not the practice itself but some of the theory behind it. I could relate to it even if the act itself I found a little harder. Like this:

"Eastern philosophy has taught that the origin of human suffering is in our automatic, conditioned thoughts"

I can see that. Automatic thoughts being those ones that don't come from the consciousness but instead are there in your face before you can do anything about them. Conditioned because they are a product of all the previous times before like a habit that is instinctual. Human suffering, to a degree but lets be honest there is more external human suffering in the shape of wars, famine, natural disaster, terminal illness and lots more than internal.

In terms of anxiety though I see it. At its extreme in the form of panic it feels like immense suffering that no-one can fully understand unless they have experienced it. It is a state of torment. And crucially because there is actually no threat it is a suffering based on automatic conditioned thinking patterns.

That is all well and good but what to do? Therein lies the big question. I firmly believe, although I have read different many times, that its not in the genes. We are not born that way. It is very much a condition of living. When we are born we are without fear and fear is taught to us. Maybe there is a balance to be struck. Maybe each individual needs a different balance. Maybe that balance comes in the form of what is taught and what is found out first hand.

What I am certain of is that a young child is fearless unless they have been subjected to a trauma of some sort which imprints itself. Each day lived and each experience shapes that balance. We learn fear. Some learn enough, some learn too much. How we cope with fear is based on every day that went before and what we experienced to that point.

It takes me back to the one thing I found of interest in the ACT workbook. That state of being able to disentangle yourself from the thoughts that you have so fused with that you believe them to be true. And in untangling yourself you are able to observe at a distance and watch without interacting. In fact I have read a few books of late coming from different angles saying the same thing. Basically by observing the automatic patterns at a distance you then don't have to react. I see and agree that it is not the thoughts themselves that are the problem but the reaction to them and if that is because the thoughts and reactions are fused as one to become automatic. In theory it sounds right.

Even better is the theory of meditation being a practice that can, possibly, allow you to find awareness- awareness being that original unconditioned state below the maelstrom of thinking. According to what I read that pure state is always there but is obscured by the mind chatter we develop by years of living and gaining life experiences. Imagine if you could tap into that. Imagine if you could stop these thoughts at source. But for the moment its all just words and second hand experience. Like anything else I think you would have to experience these things first hand to believe them. Still I can't help thinking that this makes more sense to me that a lot of the other stuff I have read. Each person is different but in my case automatic thinking is definitely the biggest problem. So with another big book in hand I am off to give it a go.

The written word

I don't know if you notice things more that are always there when they come into your life or whether its just the way the world has changed over the years. Take anxiety for example and in its extreme form panic. I've been reading for years and never knew what a panic attack was until I experienced one. Never really thought much about anxiety either nor to my knowledge came across it much, if at all, in the books I read. Though having read a lot of horror books I am sure I must have. But I wonder if it was always there and I didn't pay it any notice or whether its now a case that the world is so demanding and fast that at some level there is more anxiety in everyone's life.

In the past week I've read two novels which were very different. Yet somewhere in there there is an anxious experience. In some there are more of them than others but it seems like every novel I read there is a reference to it somewhere. Then again I wonder is it not a case that any novel is going to have a character going through a full range of emotions and the most prevalent of those is likely to be fear?

He stretched awkwardly in his seat now, the stiffness in his arms prompting another memory, of folding them around Siobhan outside the Sunday Herald and kissing her goodnight. The way she'd pressed her body against into his. Why the hell did it have to feel so right, when it was obviously never going to work with her? Suddenly, he felt a tightness in his chest, as if his lungs were constricting inside him. He felt the woman beside him shift an inch or two further away, and wondered if this is what it was like to suffer an anxiety attack. But it only lasted a moment and once it had passed her felt a great wave of relief wash through him.
THE PRIEST, Gerard O'Donovan

This was an average crime thriller in which you would think there would be a lot of anxiety and fear but strangely there was very little in it. The main reason for that is that the crimes were not told but instead investigated later so apart from a victim reliving the trauma under hypnotherapy this was about the only other reference. It made me wonder though if this was a first hand experience related by the author. Here an Irish detective is on a plane to Madrid remembering the night before and being torn by his emotions- the old love/hate thing.

Cale was astonished at himself as terror drained him of the strength that had made him invincible for almost half his life. His tongue, dry as sand, stuck to the roof of his mouth, the muscles in his thighs hurt, barely able to support him, his arms, oak strong, felt as if to lift them would be an impossible feat and there was a strange burning in his ears...Panic ran riot through Cale's wilting soul as if some reservoir of fear had been dammed up in him for all these years and now had burst its banks and swept away all nerve and guts, all gall and the will to power.
THE LEFT HAND OF GOD, Paul Hoffman

I really enjoyed this fantasy novel except for the abrupt end but have since learned the reason for that was its the first part of a trilogy. Here a boy who is a fearless, in fact emotionless, killing machine suddenly finds himself for the first time in his adult life panicking in a duel. Probably its intensified by the fact that he has been free of fear every time in a fight up until that point. And the only reason for it is finding love. Maybe that was the burst of the dam which itself was maybe repression.

While I am on the subject of this book off on a tangent for a bit. Although fiction there is a great dandy philosopher with the strange name IdrisPukke. There is not enough of him in it for me. He's a real scallywag but his views are both insightful in some ways and funny in others.

'Solitude is a wonderful thing, Cale, and in two ways. First, it allows a man to be with himself, and second, it prevents him from being with others.' Cale nodded his agreement with a sincerity that was only possible for someone who had spent every waking and sleeping hour of his life with hundreds of others and always being spied upon.

'To be sociable,' IdrisPukke continued, 'is a risky thing- even fatal- because it means being in contact with people, most of whom are dull, perverse and ignorant and are really with you only because they cannot bear their own company. Most people bore themselves and greet you not as a true friend but as a distraction- like a dancing dog or some half-wit actor with a fund of amusing stories.'
THE LEFT HAND OF GOD, Paul Hoffman

I just love that. But to get back on topic I could quote paragraphs from all the books I've read in the past few years were it not for the fact my memory banks are now so clogged that two a bit more than I can fit in there. There is something reassuring, for me anyway, about reading fear in another and seeing it here, there and everywhere. It reminds me its not uncommon. OK for me its out of context but take away the situation and the experience is no different from what millions of others have felt too. Even in fiction there is some comfort. I remember reading an historical fiction novel, the title escapes me, about Spartans in training and their methods for achieving fearlessness. Not only their methods but also the philosophy behind it. It didn't matter that it was fiction because to me it was fascinating. And I guess that is why we are all in the bloggy community because there is something of interest and a common ground from which we hope we can gain understanding and if not that then comfort in knowing we are not alone via the written word.

Petty Crime

My wife at the moment is getting a bit "ratty", as we say up here, at the moment. That is to say every little petty thing is getting on her nerves. It may indicate a symptom of her current situation living with a mental case but I think it runs deeper than that. Along with her, the rest of her sisters are always commenting on how little things get to her dad to the point where for example although he loves his football small irritants now have a number of football grounds blacklisted for petty crimes. My wife is very much her father's daughter. I'd say 90-95% of her opinions are inherited rather than formed and it sometimes leads to arguments between us which she can't back up, but because her dad says so she won't back down either.

Just setting the scene though. One of these little irritations came to a head tonight. Every Thursday there is a function of some sort across the road from us and the guy who runs it continually parks almost on our doorstep despite there being a car park. It infuriates the life out of her but there is nothing that can be done as its a public road. So last night she took it upon herself to go out in real stormy weather with rain hammering down and strong winds swirling to park our car out front to stop this guy parking there. Soaked to the skin even for the short time out she still wore a smug smile. When I looked out I noticed she hadn't mounted the pavement to allow cars to pass into the car park. Why I don't know but as I mentioned this she disappeared back out again no doubt sort the problem. I should have just left it.

It was ten minutes that passed before I went to the window again to see her standing with the car door open outside seemingly just standing there. Most peculiar so I went down to see what she was up to because the weather was so bad that you could not call across the short distance and be heard. It turns out in her little moment of pettiness she had opened the car door and the wind caught it. She'd heard a crack and the door fully open could no longer be shut. It was stuck and not budging. The inside was absolutely soaked as the rain battered in as was she. There was I standing in just a T-shirt freezing and wanting to go back up to get a heavy jacket but she insisted there and then she needed to move the car out of the wind and needed me to walk alongside holding the door so I got soaked. A lesson learned I hope. As I helped the car limp around the back the guy she had been trying to thwart pulled up and rested on our doorstep to add salt to the wounds.

I should say I had up to this point being lying content half asleep on the couch. For some reason the night before I had a real bad time with panic late on and for the first time in about a year and a half had that horrible derealisation. I'd woke up in the morning still the same and it was getting me panicky as hell. Its hard to explain. Its like staring into space and knowing you are doing it but unable to snap yourself out of it. Like having a thousand yard stare on and unable to refocus. Anyway it turns out it was a bit of a bug, probably, as the accompanying symptoms were the same as my wife had on Monday when she had to go to bed ill. Though she did make her work eager to keep up her excellent attendance record. Basically it was burning eyes, headache, shakiness and even she had complained on Monday of feeling "unreal" and "not there". All things I've had before with anxiety so took it just to be that. Just a bug though.

So I wasn't in the best of moods while my wife called the AA and I sat in the car trying to work out what was going on while getting soaked through. In some ways it was good as I felt better for being out in the elements in my mind doing something but I was feeling so shitty that I soon started to get anxious. The AA wouldn't send anyone out and recommended that my wife just try forcing the door shut as that is all they would do anyway. So that was her plan. But I investigated further and disagreed. I found a latch which I could move, covered in oil, and checking against the other door found that wasn't right. My wife got a torch from one of the neighbours and I set about trying to fix the problem. It was a nightmare though. Hanging over a car door the rain was battering off the windscreen and creating a spray directly into my face. I had the sensation of being at sea because apart from that it was pitch black and my legs were like jelly- never have been a good sailor.

Not to waffle on, I finally with the aid of a torch managed with all my might to lever this piece of broken metal over a bolt head and shut the door. What bloody relief. My wife had her arms around me and the neighbour watching from the window was singing praises. I felt very uncomfortable so legged it- never been one for praise. So the reluctant hero of the hour ran away quick smart finding even jelly legs will move when you need them too. It was though good because god knows what our next move was. Our car in torrential rain with the door wide open- we could hardly leave it over night. All in all it was an hour from my wife breaking the door to me managing to close it with no other alternatives up until it was done in that bloody swirling rain. And to be honest before the door gave way I was ready to run anyway as I had started to get into a panic.

Later I was frozen to the bone and feeling the cold from the soaking. Our little flat just doesn't heat up regardless of how long we have the heating on. There are too many gaps in this leaning little tower of subsidence. But I did have a warm glow inside. Not from solving a problem but from being out in the elements and feeling briefly alive instead of locked away. A reminder, which I need, that I need to get out there instead of contemplating consequences of actions.

Halloween passes

"Just out of theatre, surgery went well, sleeping off anaesthetic. should be home around lunchtime x"- H

A message from my wife on Facebook. Not that I go on there that often but as she does and I hadn't heard any news at two in the morning I thought that would be the best place to check. She was at the children's hospital with the boy.
Around tea time after being excluded from carving up the pumpkin I was in the kitchen making that trifle I promised and making a complete pig's ear of it. I'm hopeless in the kitchen but do try. I managed to burn the custard and then after spooning out all the burnt bits with more patience than I usually have left it too long so it solidified and I couldn't pour it on to the jelly. Complete waste of space I know. As I was in the kitchen I heard my wife on a number of occasions tell the youngest two to stop running around but the constant thudding of feet let me know they were not for listening. Then there was an almighty thump, short silence and then screaming. Not unusual for our home I have to say. There is such limited space to run about in and the hyper kids are forever leaving their toys lying about on the floor that falls are commonplace.

But when my wife called me I knew something was wrong. The boy looked in agony. His left arm was hanging limp and above the elbow looked wrong. I can't actually say what was wrong with it but it just looked wrong for some reason. And added to that the whole of the upper arm had come out in blotches. As I tried to calm him and dress him my wife arranged for one of the neighbours to take her to hospital and then they were gone. It was horrible. To see this little soul in such agony and not be able to do anything about it. What I found more worrying was he kept closing his eyes and I had to keep making sure he would stay awake. Just a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach and I didn't envy my wife's journey ahead with waiting rooms and the like. My mind took me dark places. It took me to all those stories I'd read and wished I hadn't about young children being beaten with broken bones and god how could they suffer that?

Two and a half hours later the boy was back with his arm in a sling. He'd broken his arm. My wife had been sitting on the floor sorting out washing when he had run in the room and tripped over the basket landing awkwardly. Unfortunately for him and my wife that was just the start of it. The broken bone was out of alignment and the local hospital couldn't deal with that so he had to go to the specialised children's hospital in Glasgow for an overnight operation. So off my wife went already stressed and not looking forward to an overnight. I looked after the girls and we muddled by for 24 hours. I didn't go to bed until the back of four. I just couldn't sleep and didn't want to sleep then I was up at eight with two hyper children and a long day ahead but nothing like the length of what my wife must have been going through.

As they are young the girls didn't understand the significance of what had happened except for momentary spells. Where was the Halloween they were promised? How do you explain it to them? Well I tried but it didn't quite do the trick. I can understand that. In the morning they had been promised costumes and games and a buffet and trifle and other Halloween delights. It was the night that was going to make up for their disappointing school party. Instead they got a take away with their dad in silence and a dimly lit pumpkin in the background.

Halloween though has now passed. The disappointment for them has now passed. The boy is still coming to terms with having his arm in a sling and still in a little pain too but already on the way to recovery after his operation. Without making promises to them I think we will try to make it up to them with fireworks of a different kind.

Frosty Mornings

The nights are bitterly cold now and the mornings the same. Its a battle of wills when it comes to the heating. In this credit crunch we, like half the country probably, are so against turning on the heating until at least one of our sets of teeth are chattering. Of course there is the kids to think about but they are so hyper that they whizz about this small box like atoms in the hadron collider so never feel the cold that is the air.

It is great for walking in though even though I'm not doing a great deal of that at the moment. I do like the crisp air and the cold nip biting at your cheeks as you are warmed and blinded by the ever lowering sun that cast long shadows. I wish I could walk more. I used to love the feeling of coming in from a walk in the cold and a bowl of hot soup as an excuse to heat up. I have so many good memories of the cold here, in Paris and in Koln. Memories of up north on a long walk to loosen the weight of the meal before and coming in to be warmed up with a small whiskey from my father-in-law.

The girls have got a new school which is great because the last was a ramshackle but this is brand spanking new- I actually watched it grow in stages. But planning seems to have gone only as far as the building itself which is built behind the old school. Where the old school was a nightmare to get in and out of the new school uses a different entrance which is narrower and right on a residential street too. Its apparently led to many verbal exchanges between residents and parents over parking as you can imagine. So the upshot is my wife has had to walk them to school and walk to pick them up. Given that she also has a bad knee this is not good for her and I feel more than a tad guilty that me in an apparently healthy body is indoors while she does the run. I wonder if a brain transplant is possible on the NHS?

So while I stand at the window with the boy the three females of the household venture out into the cold. Sad state of affairs. I wish it were different but it isn't. I've been trying for well over a year to walk to that school and just can't. I made it a few times in the car but if my wife finds the bottleneck now too much then what chance do I have? In her dogged pursuit to get me well by whatever means she has arranged a phone conversation tomorrow with the GP. Its the one where I have to say I don't want the drugs he gave me and can I have different ones, preferably the ones that he calls "addictive" and refuses to administer unless I plead insanity. I don't know about anyone else but I have a barrier there where I tend to be unwilling to say things are as bad as they are which doesn't help. Some little part of that "I can cope" nurturing preventing me telling all.

Well I'll see what happens there. I need some way out for the bad times which I can't at the moment handle. Been thinking about a big rubber mallet I can knock myself out with when it gets too much as nothing else has worked so far. But if there was something there I knew would give me an escape out of that mind torrent of jaggy statements nipping my brain I may not even need to take it- just knowing I had something may be enough. And that is what I need because fear of consequence is stopping me pushing myself at the moment and agitation has taken its place because I don't want to sit in this little room so the two stances are at odds with each other tearing my mind apart.

No much else going on at the moment. Immersing my self in books like some kind of researcher on anxiety but plodding over old ground in the hope of finding something I may have missed the first time round. Generating lots of new ideas which only serve to add the confusion but in the passing seconds keep me occupied or at least distracted. I've allowed my world to shrink again and maybe with some arrogance thought it would be a case of just stepping out again but find I'm walking into walls and rolling back home. But its not too bad. I was having a hard time coming to terms with that to begin with but have since seen there is very little point getting frustrated over it and become impatient. Best instead to just keep stepping out and see what happens and at some point it will click again. Its this doom and gloom this country is rightly in at the moment which I think has me revved up looking for quick fixes when in fact what will happen will happen and there is no quick fix and also trying to apply one is highly detrimental.

I have been experiencing something strange in the last few weeks and not sure what to make of it at all. I'm hopeless at conjuring mental images as I have found out many times when trying visualisation exercises but lately I have been seeing an array of random vivid images in my head from my past. They are never of people but of places and always very clear still images. It is very bemusing and the purpose I don't know. Mostly they come and go but one has been recurring and I can make no sense of it at all. Its a cashline at a bank in Edinburgh and its at night. Why? I remember at the time it was unique, to me anyway, because it was behind closed sliding doors and you needed your back card to firstly open the unmanned doors before using the cashline machine. I can only think it just popped up at random and because I found it so strange it has kept repeating on me. I'm not going mad honest!

So for now I have to just watch from the window as I said, as I have been doing for some time now. As cold as it is I love the the way frost makes things sparkle, When the bright sun comes out everything gleams and shines momentarily before it melts under its gaze. I still don't agree with those people who think anxious types are lazy or unwilling to do things or even comfortable to sit in their situation without really wanting to get out of it. This time of year I love and would equally love to be out in it regardless of the cold. Its anxiety only keeping me indoors and a lack of solution to manage it. The cold is what wrapping up is for. Walks in the park and through woodland paths are great this time of year. I want to be up and about at the crack of dawn to see the sunrise even on a frosty morning or maybe because its a frosty morning. I don't because there is little point, I need to catch on the sleep lost the night before and it makes the endless day longer. With purpsoe though I would spring out of bed but for purpose to exist there has to be the ability to carry it out. Its perverse that a desire can bring guilt because its someone else's chore.

Good day

A good day, yes. Its what I was thinking to myself earlier on: a good day, yes. Its a measure though of the quality of life when a day is about what it didn't contain rather than what it did contain. Most people will quantify their day by the highlights in it. A good day might contain an array of beautiful, exciting and/or exhilarating moments. Not me. What was so good about this day? Well I can't list a thing because I have no excitement to offer. I was indoors for almost the entirety with the exception of a short jaunt out to reveal myself to the world as I do at least once each day before heading back inside and if it were not for cars on the road I would have thought I was the last man on earth as I did not encounter a single soul.

No as I said my good days are defined by what they do not contain in relation to every other one I can remember in recent memory. I had to get up at nine which is early for me on a Sunday after a late night and a bottle of wine but felt fine, felt actually quite relaxed. Throughout the day stress was minimal despite watching three kids bounce up and down yelling in a room too small for their needs, anxiety was minimal and panic was non-existent. And this is what led me to the conclusion that it was a good day. A normal boring day with no mischiefs, a nice change. A day without troubles and minimal strife. Sad to say but it feels satisfying strangely.

These are the kind of days when I usually feel propelled to launch myself out the door like I have been catapulted and challenge my agoraphobia with a new found resolve but not today. The urge was there but my wife had a long deserved sleep in as she needed it and with the kids in various states of dress I couldn't muster the will power to find clothes, iron them, dress them and by the time we would be ready to go out anyway I'd have lost the will. Besides that the boy at the moment is a nightmare out as he has found that his new favourite word is "no" and darts here, there and everywhere on to roads and throws himself on the ground and just about everything that can increase the temperature on my already simmering blood pressure.

Not a lot going on at the moment apart from me with my head in a book which I think is the reason for the calm today. Whereas normally I would be ripping my hair out at the noise and all else with kids caged in a room looking for stimulation I somehow am finding it washing over me or somewhere afar that can't touch me as I lose myself in another world. Usually when I realised I am stressed its already too late and I cannot find a way to get myself out of it. So the only way is not to get stressed in the first place which I find difficult but at least today I found out it was possible. All good with only one dark cloud on my mind that won't go.

The main thing on my mind is medication. The wife went to see the GP and he called me after she left. No problem for him and he was very nice and informative on the phone. Two sets of pills. One an anti-depressant and one anti-anxiety pill as advised by the CPN. That annoyed me straight off because as much as I appreciated what my wife did she is still listening to the CPN more than she is listening to me. On a side note she one day started to doubt the CPN last week after her sister went on a rant which again annoyed me because its like everyone else's opinion matters except my own. And with the pills I didn't want that. I wanted a pill to take the edge of things when they got too bad to handle. I didn't want something that was going to make me feel worse for a few weeks with the possibility I might feel a little better later. The main one I'd read about before and didn't fancy. Nothing I can do about that as the info is planted. It seems quite successful after the rough ride but I have it in my head now that its a bad one. I've still not taken it but feeling torn again. On one hand its caused a few fights with the wife who thinks my reluctance is down to not wanting to even try to get better and on the other hand I'm thinking that its my body and given that I can't go to hospital and have had reactions to medication in the past I don't want to play Russian Roulette for other people.

I did try the anti-anxiety medication which I seemed to react to too but my anxiety is so bad at times that I cannot tell how much is a reaction to the pill and how much I have created in my own head through apprehensive worry. The GP said it was a short burst which I did feel but rather than making me less anxious it gave me more anxiety. I have since read that it actually takes 2-3 weeks to take effect which wasn't what I was told. Maybe I could persevere with that but I'm not sure I want to be experimenting with two types of medication at the same time so firstly must choose which one to settle for. The problem is that I have also read that this one offsets the other so the GP was quite right to prescribe them together even if I am reluctant to take them as such.

Really I am not sure what to do. A day like today reminds me that I can on my own terms get in a frame of mind that allows me to at least be in a position to take on my anxiety issues. OK I didn't do it today but I found that place where at others times I have, usually child free, pushed the boundaries. And it also reminds me that every time people interfere it has an adverse effect and does me no good at all. I have the stubborn mentality ingrained where if I feel like a puppet on a string I won't dance regardless of who is pulling the strings nor how hard they pull. But I'm also of the mind at the moment that I can't rule it out until I've tried it either so can see my wife's point of view there, just don't like feeling like a guinea pig.

I know my med phobia sounds a bit melodramatic. Really what is the worst that could happen? I don't know. Maybe it comes from the fact I got the anxiety lable 4 years ago and have never had a check up since and everything since then has been attributed to anxiety. Maybe its the warnings about not take the meds if you have and not knowing whether I fall into that bracket. I guess there is only one way to tell and in the past I wouldn't even have thought twice about it but now I seem to linger too long on cause and effect and that moment when action is irreversible. Its completely irrational but then so is everything else when it comes to my thinking process.

Apart from the medication dilemma and hibernating inside the pages of books still not a lot going on up this end of this little island. Quiet times with little to report. Maybe its better that way. And when I am not here I am back there, former days. Other good days. Like the photo above, circa 2002, where I was equally lost in a book but instead of sitting on the couch in my living room I was on a train from Brussels to Amsterdam- an adventure as I booked everything manually without the aide of a travel agent. No difference inside the mind though. There will be days like that again I am sure and until then I realise its not that important what is going on around about me. Back then I was in my head and its what happens when I am in my head now that equally defines my mood. I think its important when you are troubled to lose yourself if you can and you think it helps. At the same time though you cannot put off what needs to be sorted now one way or the other.

Lost

The skeleton is easy. Its well worn, tried and trust. You have an older man with an interesting profession that means delving into the distant past. Usually he is an archaeologist of some description or a professor but I've seen book collectors and other such interesting non-academic types. He is then joined at some point by a much younger beautiful woman by his side who it turns out has brains as well as looks and from there the sexual tension builds. And what binds them together is an ancient artifact of some sort and it is the quest for this item which weaves the story together. Now that would be pretty bland in itself were it not for the fact they were being chased by a lethal band of brothers connected with some ancient cult who are after the same object and through car chases and shoot outs and all other kinds of exciting near death experiences the story ticks along to its climax through twists and turns and a helluva lot of near misses. And this tale is the major part but usually there is another tale told from mostly Medieval times- or around Christ if the artifact in question is religion related- which brings the history of the prize to the reader at the same time. Its classic Dan Brown formula and repeated now eternally. The meat on the bones is the author's narrative which varies from the dire to the quite brilliant depending on who you read. Usually the former unfortunately as these books are churned out by the basket load.

For some quite time now I have been hooked on these historical thrillers or whatever the genre is called. I don't go seeking them and in fact if I order books I don't touch them but whenever Mrs N decides to treat me to some books from the supermarket its the type she always brings home because they are popular and so accessible and every time she does I groan inside then 300-400 pages later have enjoyed my read. Its so strange as I hate repetition and I also hate beyond the bounds of reality sensationalising- you know the sort of thing: Chuck Norris up against 20 guys and he knocks them all out with 1 punch yet takes 20 in return and doesn't have a mark. Its like James Bond always being left to die in some contraption you know he's going to get out of and that irritates me so much I just want the villain to put a bullet through his head- that's never going to happen is it? Yeah I hate everything about these books yet with nothing alternative to read I force myself to start reading them and can't put them down. Its a weird feeling to be repulsed by my own enjoyment but I do. Abondoning realism irks me and yet at the same time I feel the need to be lost in adventure by whatever means.

At the moment I'm on a reading frenzy which seems to happen when I become bored or disillusioned with this reality to the point that I have to escape into alternatives. So at a loss last night after finishing my last unread book my wife came in today, to save me from the iritation of rereading, with two new books from the supermarket of this genre which brought internal groans again- one about finding Noah's Ark, cue Indiana Jones music, and another about a Medieval manuscript that will change the world. But still I will read them as I have nothing else novel to read. For all its faults and borrowing I did really enjoy the last book I read which was not of this ilk yet another supermaket buy from my wife. It was a sort of Gothic horror translated from Spanish and set at the beginning of last century in Barcelona but hinted vaguely to me of the film Angel Heart, it was actually entitled "Angel's game". I loved it though and couldn't put it down. Maybe more to do with preferring to live in a large gothic home in uncertain times in another place under a burning sun that the story itself. More to do with being lost in myself in another world.


The power of the written word is amazing. In the epilogue to that book I read I started reading the final few pages and had to stop. I was reading something and could feel myself having to hold back the tears. I could feel my chin wobbling and I quickly put the book down before I emotionally broke down. And that is the thought I get in my head: must hold this back or you will go insane and breakdown into a gibbering idiot. I know I won't- I think- but that is the strong thought. So strange that fiction can do that. It was only a letter from a bit player in the piece of a fictional story and yet I couldn't carry on reading until the following day because of what it was doing to my emotions. I see it happen to my wife all the time with TV and through tears she looks at stone-hearted me but I do get that well occasionally in fiction and its stronger and more often than I get it in reality. Without doubt I have suppressed all the dark stuff and from time to time it tries to break out. Its not just sorrow though but instead the strength of the emotion because I get the same with with anger and frustration. My wife came home on Thursday early from work and burst into tears because her best friends mum had died who she knew well. Earlier today she went up to see her and among lots of things she related how her friend and husband had wept together. I couldn't see me doing that I am so emotionally repressed. I just don't know how to deal with these things and can't let go and no it is not a healthy thing but can't help it as in my mind I see a big wall with lots of cracks all leading to one point where I have my finger poked in and fear the consequences of removing it.

Boredom of this life and its restrictions has sent me head long into the world of fiction and the written word. To be perfectly honest I am enjoying it which I should be ashamed to say but am unashamedly not. Its a welcome break from the monotony of endless days. It is though just a short term vacation I take from time to time when I need to. Not a conscious effort on my part but something I just do automatically when there is nowhere left to hide. But the good thing is I do usually feel better for it. At the moment I am feeling better for it. Its a bit like stopping the world for a breather before allowing it to start spinning again. I do though also worry that this is part of my problem- the need to escape from the practicality of life. Even if only on fictional terms swapping shopping for love, hoovering for lust and mundane conversations for whatever the heart desires. An urgent need to escape from the banality of it all into a place where the realm of the senses has no bounderies.

Going it alone

There was a turning point in all this when my willingness to go through the motions regardless of cost changed to stubbornness- a more familiar and natural state for me. It came last week when after still receiving no news about the proposed medication I contacted the CPN who later left a message which annoyed me so much I had to wait a couple of hours to phone back while the anger spent itself. The message amounted to an appointment set up for me 6 miles away in another town to see a psychiatrist who would determine not what medication I needed but whether I needed any at all. So I called the CPN back and reminded her that not only could I not do that but that she had spent 3 sessions with a view to trying to get me to go a short mile trip to the shops and back. What about if she came and collected me? Still it hadn't sank in. But why can't you do it? At that point I just about slammed the phone down, I just can't. Just like I can't sit in the school car park for 10 minutes or go to the bloody shops anymore. I can't do it and that is why you are here to help. Have you not been fucking listening? Are you not the one who on every visit said you could not understand why I had never been offered medication and it was now a priority? I would have thought that much was obvious but the only obvious thing was that it was not. So she said she'd have another talk with the doctor and get back to me but she never did. It was at this point I realised she was really no different from the first CPN who visited 3 years before. Won't listen, couldn't care less, of zero help and actually worsening my state. Fired.

Torn between guilt and mental preservation the latter finally won out last night and caused an almighty fight with my wife- as I knew it would. I've said many times before how my wife has pinned her hopes on my recovery being delivered by the hands of mental health services so when I told her last night I was going to phone them the following morning, today, and tell them not to bother coming back she flew into a fury. For a woman who claims to hate confrontation she threw one hell of a wobbler I can tell you. It was survival of the loudest and angriest to which we both fought our corners well.

But I dug my heels in and under a muttering breath of words I could not possibly transcribe here she sulked off to bed banging whatever she could never to speak again. So much for mental preservation then. The anxiety left and guilt, like I knew it would, filled the void. So much so that I sat in the silence of an empty room for an hour mulling over things and then spent a couple of hours lying down in bed doing the same before finally the sleep came. For all my wife's anger I would hazard a guess she went out like a light as soon as her head hit the pillow- something I envy. She puts everything on hold to the morning and conks out while the worrier beside here stares at the ceiling with a million thoughts running wild.

I felt like the abject failure I was supposed to feel, made to feel, knew I would feel. My wife lives in hope of a day not when things will improve but for a day when things will return to 'normal' again. Not much to ask is it? She wants things how they were and she wants the man she married but he is no longer there and nor will he be coming back- which I have never told her as it would crush her. Without that hope my mental state would not be the only one in jeopardy. So to her my news was a bombshell. I'd rolled her hope up into a ball and drop kicked it out the window. No wonder she was mad. She is so blinded by this faith in mental health services that I could not reason with her and regardless of my excuses or justifications I was throwing away my last chance at a happy end to all this. I was being selfish and wasn't willing to try to get back the life not only she but the kids too deserve. Quite a bit of guilt to handle when put like that.

My reasons are many for ending this pantomime. I had an appointment scheduled for today at 10 and thought I could just grit my teeth to get through it but realisation struck me late last night and I reached the point of no return. I guess it was sitting there going through the material the CPN had given me and the work I had to do. Sorting out types of distorted thinking and all that kinds of rubbish that looks good on paper but serves no purpose in the real world. I mean what really does it matter whether my thoughts are catastrophising, overgeneralising, absolute or whatever else? Is sorting them into different piles going to make me well again? Of course not and it was all that sort of thing that was starting to get on my nerves. There is nothing practical in there, its all identification.

In mid battle I asked my wife if she thought things were getting better. She shrugged her shoulders and then asked me what was the alternative. I'd already given her the alternative and informed her that it was bad enough that I wasn't going forward but these sessions had stuck me right into reverse. I've been at the bottom before and I can see the slide. I now see how things went in a chain reaction when this all started from panic outside, panic inside, monophobia, socail phobia, etc in an orderly fashion. I can see it happening again and it worries me. Where in the past year I was dealing with people in the house these sessions are conditioning the old fear again which is one reason I could not bare another visit. The general anxiety level has been stuck on high since the run up to the start of this which I think is because I knew deep down it was a waste of time. Now I am constantly fatigued and constantly on the verge of panic while experiencing a host of new and agitating sensations that I have never felt before- at least not for a couple of years. Walks are at a minimum and drives have disappeared. So after explaining I asked my wife if this was what she thought was progress, did she want me to slide right back down to the bottom again and was she happy for me to be this miserable every waking moment- and I do mean miserable. I should have known the answer as it was the same one, the only one. What was the alternative?

So OK then. I just watch myself slink all the way back into the house and under the bed and wave mental health services goodbye when they decide its time to do a runner again calling me a hopeless case over their shoulder as they flee for the horizon leaving me a wreck. Not a chance. I have no desire to go back there, none at all. And if I do find myself back there then it will be by my own hand and not that of a stranger. So this time there was no compromise and regardless of the guilt I was sticking to my guns. Even knowing the hurt it caused I could appease no longer. There was not a chance in hell I was going to let someone lead me by the hand all the back down to where it all started once more. Not a chance.

It was my wife who broke the silence first this morning and credit to her for doing so as I am totally in stubborn mode now- its a lifestyle choice with me when I choose to do so. I'd woken up in a panic which is unusual. I've had panic on waking a few times lately which is another sign things are not well but its always a few minutes after waking. The strained tension between us is no doubt the cause, an unresolved issue which has no amicable resolution. This actually woke me up and I hope its not the start of some new perverse chapter anxiety is throwing my way. I got up a couple of hours earlier than usual as a result which just gave more time to apprehension. When my wife spoke things were calmer. We both said our bit and the other listened. And from this we came to a solution, or compromise, and that would be that I would see if I could get the CPN postpone all visits until I'd gotten some medication to at least allow me to get through a visit without panicking from start to finish and actually being able to hear what she says because the majority of the time I am fighting off panic and she is an inaudable moving mouth. At least between my wife and I all was well again and the atmosphere softened. But my wife insisted on making the call not trusting me to come to an agreeable solution and instead most likely sabotaging all hope- I won't say it didn't cross my mind.

After she came off the phone she seemed happy. She was happy that the CPN had agreed to lay off until I got some medication to help me along. She was happy that it wasn't, for now, ending. But this is the part that really pissed me off. The CPN said the Dr refuses to give me any medication until I go out to the hospital to see her first even though I had said that if I could go out and see her I wouldn't need the medication in the first place. I met her once- she came out last year or the year before. To be kind I'd say she was aloof but a closer description is up her own arse- excuse the French but that is the only way I can describe these pompous-I-have-letters-after-my-name types who won't even listen to an alternative. So she is playing god and I have to look elsewhere. My wife reminded the CPN that she herself had said it was ridiculous that I had never been given any medication to which she agreed and said in her opinion I definitely do but I was the one who shunned the appointment. Ah, no wonder I'm tired I tell you. So instead what I have to do is talk to my GP and see if he can give me anything. It annoys me because that is not his area of expertise and the expert with the title is delegating to him. I mean can she not even do it over the phone? Why does she have to see me? I could send a picture I suppose. Even my wife could see how ridiculous this was but there was no anger there because all she was worried about was that I was not a lost cause to mental health services and that our GP would be more likely to medicate.

If nothing else that weight was lifted today and despite not being a conclusion it is at least good enough for me at the moment. But I also know there are longer term ramifications. For my marriage as an example, and more accurately to out relationship.In my wife's eyes I am giving up to easily. Its hard for her to understand that I can see clearly this is doing me all damage and no good and that is why I am unwilling to keep playing along. It is hard though for others to understand when all they see is how it affects their life and cannot have an insight into how troubled the other is. I have tried. I let it go on longer than I should have done and in doing so nothing good has come of it and instead long term problems are ahead as a result. Never again. I am on my own from now on, so be it.

Magic Door

We live in a time where kids are spoiled. Not all kids but a lot of kids. My own kids are no different. They have too much not only from their parents but also grandparents, aunts and uncles. So much waste as the majority of things end up crushed in a toy box that can't be shut unused and unplayed with. They wind up under beds, on top of cupboards and just about anywhere there is a space.

The boy doesn't have as many play things as the girls but he doesn't need them. For some reason known only to himself the only toy he will play with is the lid of a Play-Doh tub. He takes it everywhere. In the morning when he gets up its the first thing he looks for. At night when its time to got through to the bedroom for some hot milk and a DVD its the last thing he drops. I can't see the appeal with it myself and he doesn't actually do anything with it other than hold it. Its with him in the home and even some times when he goes out he takes it with him. Its his comfort blanket I suppose.

His speech for his age is not good. The girls were coherent and very clear speakers at his age but he is very inaudible at the best of times. It might be a boy thing as I remember his male cousins being slower than the girls in that respect. So when he used to reference this lid none of us had an inkling as to what he was trying to say. With some patience it turns out he calls it "Magic Door". We have no idea why but my youngest girl seems to think its something to do with an episode of "Dora the Explorer". Its amazing how kids look for the simplest things and apply their own magic to them. For all those pounds spent on a cramped box full of redundant toys a lid to a tub because the must-have thing.

Mind you I wouldn't mind a magic door myself. I seem to have come full circle. There was a time when I hated travelling because I either hated driving or hating flying. Then I made the decision never to fly again which sat very well with me and I enjoyed travelling again by boat, coach and rail. Now I'm back to hating travelling again because of circumstance while really deep down wanting to go places. If I had a magic door to step into somewhere instantly and instantly step back out again it would do me fine. Or maybe it wouldn't because I do miss watching the world roll by on a train. There is something very relaxing about the big window and the blur of the world of rolling fields and such like passing behind. Maybe just a magic door then to get me back home would suffice.

Theft

I got a letter from the Halifax BOS' trojan team- apparently. It came on Halifax headed paper. Whether it is genuine or not I am still unsure. It appeared to be at the time. I was rather alarmed to read it. What it says basically is that someone has managed to attain my username, password and answers to my security questions for online banking thus enabling them to transfer money from my accounts. In order to remedy any attack I should update windows with latest patches and run a virus scan. Thereafter I should change my password.

Without further ado this is what I did. Windows was up to date as it turned out as with my virus checker which after a full scan turned up no viruses. Just to be sure I changed my password anyway. As I did this I was suddenly reminded of some curiosities over the past month or so. The format kept changing. At one point instead of being asked one of four security questions I was asked to provide all four which seemed strange to me. And once in to look at my accounts I was being prompted to provide my sort code and account number for one of the three accounts I administer there. Again very strange. So you might think with concerns why didn't I contact the bank? Well I would if I could. Firstly they won't let me do it by phone because after that money got stolen from the hole in the wall they suspended my telephone banking and that can only be rectified if I visit the branch in the town I grew up in with two forms of ID. The only other alternative is to visit a nearer branch which I also can't do at the moment. Its a joke really. You'd think with security concerns they could remove some red tape and to add to that I am still £80 out of pocket from the last time.

So I did all this and thought no more of it while checking my account once a week to ensure no funds had been transferred. Then yesterday I got a phone call. The first time I couldn't be bothered answering it and the second time I did. The Irish woman on the other end claimed to be from the Halifax and wanted to query when I last accessed my account. After some minutes she asked if I had authorised the transfer of £900 to another account- later it transpired this transfer was to somewhere out of the country. Alarm bells ringing I assured her I did not. So she informed me that she was sure someone was illegally accessing my online account. She has suspended my online banking and now I will receive new details to initialise the online banking once more. I cannot believe how vulnerable we all are now. I feel like taking my money out and stuffing it under the mattress but its probably not safe there either.

Anyway she asked why I had changed my password and I told her about the letter which she assured me is fake and no such department existed. She also told me she's left a message on my phone to call her back after I had not picked up the first time. When I came off the phone I checked for the message it was not there. The reason I did this was I had a more pressing concern which didn't hit me until I hung up. She said the transfer was nearly all the contents of the account but that is one account and the other two accounts have more in them. Why if someone has access to three accounts would they only try to clean out the one with the smallest amount? The answer is they wouldn't. And my big worry was that the bank had only noticed this one irregularity and there were two other more serious ones on the go. This is where it gets stranger still. Without that message and contact number I had to use dial back. According to BT the phone number doesn't exist.

So what I am left with is total confusion. Who is actually the fraud here? I couldn't find any word of a Trojan Team attached to the bank when I googled which would suggest she was right. But why would someone send me a letter telling me how to get rid of the virus if they wanted the details? According to the caller my account had been accessed twice since I changed my password by this same rogue computer which would suggest then maybe it was the change of password that allowed them to get into my accounts. I just don't know. Why the hell can't I contact this woman back? Why on earth can I not even report it to my own bank?

The reason for this post is to highlight what can happen with your details online. Please all run your virus checkers regularly as there are some nasty little beasts out there. I don't know why my virus checker picked up nothing before but I ran it last night again and it came back with this report:


I googled these new viruses it has found which you can see in the graphic. I would print it here but don't want it to appear linked in some google search. According to one site this is the little sod that rips your login details and posts them off to a remote server for thieves to raid your account. My wife informed me that just two weeks ago a guy in her work got a call from the bank to inform him £2500 had been taken from his account but he got it back quickly. Just a heads up for anyone who deals with their finances online.

Second hand stuck

I feel like the second hand has stuck. It slides forward and just as its about to click into a new second it is yanked back. And it continues like that over and over. I am stuck in the moment which would be fine if it was a good moment but it is not. Its forever bad.

Whether its coincidence or not I am unsure but some very rough mental seas this past month or so have coincided with the CPN visits. Rather than easing the anxiety they have increased it considerably. So much so that today I cancelled this Friday's visit and will reschedule later. Its days of apprehension before, panic at the time and anxious nervous tension and fatigue after. I just couldn't face another visit this Friday when I have the kids for most of the day alone. That last time she was here for over an hour and a half then only left because my family arrived home and it was 90 minutes of falling in and out of panic. I think what is irritating me most at the moment is the big deal made of me never being medicated and how that was a must and yet here I am still without a word. I've asked twice now about what is happening with it only to be told its in the hands of the psychiatrist who has yet to contact me. I'm not looking for a cure or even a crutch but just some relief, a breather. I read about so many people getting some relief from meds that I think now its time I had a bit of that just to steady this ship for a bit before I go prancing off into panic with a set of tools. The last time she was in last week she actually noticed the panic which she didn't before even though my wife did. Maybe it was because I was speaking so fast that she looked up and then commented on my neck pulling. She got me to stop then do some abdominal breathing and a bit of progressive muscle relaxation. That just causes a bit of a tug of war internally. The body was starting to relax but the mind kept telling me that the longer I did this the longer it would be before the session was over so I broke off and just tried to keep a lid on it.

Angst out of the way. I thought its about time I posted because its not for lack of wanting to post that has kept me from doing so of late nor how I am feeling. In fact I type loads of every day and the more anxious I am the more I type. Its just a lot of what I've had to say and what I have been thinking lately has been very dark and very negative so I've stopped myself from posting it hoping that the clouds part sometime ahead. This is all very different from this time last year and I think I maybe need to look back at last year and see where I went right. Something clicked last year. Not just loner walks or longer drives which for me are down the priority list for me but there was none of this constant general anxiety at a greater than normal level. That is where I need to be for starters. I wasn't so stuck then. Maybe without knowing it the second hand started to move again but has once more gotten stuck. I must return and find out how to get it going again even if it does tend to move out of sync with the rest of world around me.

Second Visit

I was in such a panic that even my wife started to fidget and look a little distressed next to me. Tried notto  let her catch my eye as I felt the words that would come would see me cave in entirely. But in truth I was already there. Already at the point of shouting at this lady to get out who had done nothing wrong. For around 5 minutes the CPN talked on and I heard not a word but kept muttering acknowledgements as if I was listening but I'd allowed the panic to go too far and I just couldn't take it any more. I couldn't see a way out and I was really surprised that she didn't see something was wrong- or maybe she did but didn't want to let on. They say as much as you think you will cause a scene you won't. It irks me that it proved true today but I was so close to it because I could see no other way out and if the CPN were not go then I would have. Yes it passed but Christ it was bad and I have no will to feel like that. An hour later my wife enquired and then said she could see my leg shaking. That wasn't all that was shaking. My neck was shaking so much that I was having trouble lifting my head up and the tension in my face and head was causing vibrations there too. Yucky.

Things didn't go well from the off. For a start the CPN was 45 minutes late, arrived in a car outside and then called up to say that she knew it was early but could she come up at that point. So I told her she was in fact late and after checking her diary she saw here mistake. Fair enough mistakes happen and its not as if I was going anywhere. What was most disappointing for my wife though was the medication. My wife actually called the medical centre yesterday expecting to pick up a prescription for some happy pills, or to her magic pills, only to be told there was nothing there. And on questioning today the CPN admitted she was yet to talk to the psychiatrist in charge about that.

Not all bad though. I'll be honest and say that what is on offer is what I expected but much better presented this time around and more accurate too. Years ago the CPN I had gave me a relaxation, progressive muscle relaxation and visualisation CD which she told me to listen to, spent 5 minutes relaying post-it notes from a colleague on the crappy multiple choices I had to do that had nothing to do with anxiety and then spent the rest of the hour telling me about her weekend. This time I got the Relaxation and PMR cds with a full explanation on why I need to use them, how they will benefit me and also informed that it takes time and practice before I will see any benefits- last time I used them for a couple of days and gave up. Not only that but she took me through them with a demonstration where she got me to do some PMR and abdominal breathing and I have to say in that moment at least it did relax me and I had very little anxiety thereafter- should have maybe said something before I panicked.

She spent an hour going through things and stopping to make sure I understood what she was saying and also probing for questioning. She explained things very well and does seem to know what she is talking about. A lot of the stuff I already knew but for my wife who knows very little about anxiety it was informative. So apart from a few niggles and a panic attack not too bad.

Next session in two weeks is about preparing to tackle going out and will be based on the many forms I have to work through. The session after that will be about setting out to try some goals and see how I get on but she did say its not about pushing yourself beyond what I think will be ultimately detrimental. That I can understand. I learned that lesson the hard way in the past many times but still prone to the odd lapse through frustration.

As much as there are positives I'm glad the next session is two weeks away. I'm not sure why I am finding these so hard. Over the last year I have been coping much better with people visiting. The norm has been a difficult first 10 minutes and then fine after. But these visits have been hard going and I dare say it will effect all other visits now. But I'll give this stuff a try. I do need something to relax me because I've had trouble with tension this week which was mainly in the shoulders but had progressed to other areas- tired bleary eyes being the most irritating. My wife is also going to give me a shoulder massage which today she was happy about as I said it would have no effect on the tension and the CPN sided with her. So maybe with 2 weeks of winding the body down I might handle the next visit better. Have to wait and see.