Edging Forward

  

The fact that I went further in one direction is not the point here. Its the fact that having done so not only was I not fighting the urge to turn back but I was actually fighting the urge to push on. Normally when doing graduated exposure the first goal is to push out to the line in the sand. Second on the list if the first is achieved is to cross that line. Third and final is to push within reason as far as possible. Like being tied to home by a bit of elastic as I have said before. This time though it was like the elastic had snapped and the only thing holding me back were the recent demons of doubt. 

I pushed on into Bothwell on Monday to a point I have not been for a few years. And it was OK. And really part of me wanted to push on further. I am glad I didn't. 5 minutes later I had a crash. The power and energy just went. It was hard enough where I was but 10 minutes further out could have been a disaster. But there are good signs there. These little glimmers of hope happened first time around unexpectedly and led to bigger strides. I feel it is happening again and that feels good.

The photo above was taken in woodland in the way back. Strange I saw my first deer for a while but it was not like others. I actually thought it was a boxer. It was the same sort of colour but by the time I had my phone out it was gone. I have never seen deer here. So many new expensive houses are being thrown up here that I fear the deer have nowhere to go. 

Polar explorer

  

Not quite the Polar region this week but feels and looks like a hint of it. Enough to leave my print 5 minutes from home but not my print on the world in any way. Unlike the lady in an interview I was listening to on the radio. She is named Ann Daniels and is a "polar explorer"- I am unsure of the proper title. It wasn't something I had planned to listen to. As sometimes happens you have the radio or tv on on the background and get pulled in. Maybe it was my winter surroundings outside that helped but I could visualise some of the things she was saying clearly about her treks. I found it so fascination that I did plan to get her book as I thought she would have written but it appears there is not one. That is a pity. The interview segment was fairly short so it only touched the surface.

There are many things I found interesting but most fascinating of all was her solo expedition to the North Pole. The solitude and the elements are enough to be getting on with but what if one day you were out there alone and saw a polar bear? That got the hairs on the back of my neck standing. I just couldn't imagine it. That fear, alone. Yet she seemed calm and measured talking about it. As much as I'd like to think I would take the Brian Blessed approach of punching it on the nose (so he claims but if anyone would Brian would for sure) I think I'd be the fastest thing on ice instead. By the sounds of it she had learned enough to have the confidence to deal with the situation depending on what the bear done. That still takes some nerve. And I would assume from that would come a strength no one can teach. A calm inner strength. I really would love to read more. 

Attacking Panic

Back in August last year I got close to the Clyde and here I stood again looking down frustrated. There looked to be no way down and I was already well out of puff just getting this far again. I've been here many times looking down for a path that does not exist. This time I thought it would be different but it wasn't. My mantra for the week had been "Attack! Attack". By that I mean not allowing panic to turn me back but instead pushing forward attacking back through gritted teeth and worrying about the consequences later. This week in my head I have been visualising where I want to go and while there in that head space pushing through the panic to re-enact it later for real. Its not the solution but has given me some small victories this week. I won't bore you with them all at this time but the best one was probably going into the nursery again and this time standing talking to my daughter's teacher for a good 5 minutes. Little things that mean so much but are tainted by the torment that must be endured each time to do them.

On this occasion I imagined being here again. The density of nature stood between me and the river but this time, like the panic, I was going to force my way through it. That was the thought anyway but when I got there I was frustrated once again to realise that any attempt to do so was futile. It was just too dense to push down through. See how tightly packed the trees are but it does it show the steep decline down to the river.

Attack! Attack! There was nothing to attack or at least nothing that would yield. I couldn't just go back so thought I might as well test myself while I was here and go a little further than I had been before. I decided I would walk down a path and see how far I could get before I had to flee.

There are some wooden stairs leading down so no problem with footing but after that its all mud track and on this particular day there had been heavy rain. It was messy and slippery underfoot. At least it was level though so I would walk along trying to loosen up my body and take deep regular breaths. As importantly though I had fend off the thoughts of how far from home I was. And as has been discussed many times before: how do you not think about something without first thinking about it?

I didn't get very far but that was not because I was ready to flee. In fact quite the opposite. I stopped near a couple of trees to my left and peered down at what looked to be a faint foot trail leading down. A possible route down to the water? Internally I was swinging between excitement and trepidation. This could be what I was looking for but I was already outside my comfort zone. Still though I couldn't head back just yet. I had to at least try seeing how far down I could get and also to see if I could see the water through the trunks and branches in my way.

 The further down I went the more tightly packed the woodland became until it got to the point where I was having to bend branched and step over things. I then reached a point where I had to pause to take stock. That was a bad idea. As soon as I done it images flooded into my head of where I was in relation to home. It was at this point I realised I could go no further. Panic was setting in. I had opened the door and now the opposing force was too strong to allow me to close it. It is very much like a flood. Even if I could close the door again I would still be left with what had already got in. It was time to flee but before I did that I wanted to take a photo to analyse later and see if I could see the water when I zoomed in or even get an indication of how close I was to it. If you enlarge this photo you will see how blurry it is. That is how much I was shaking. But it would have to do. Panic was going to get worse before it got better so my time was up and now it was the long road home for me.

Oh yes I nearly forgot about the dream as I nearly did also at this point. As I turned to leave something really nagged at me. I had stood so long looking down and now I knew I was close. Would I get this opportunity again? Would I get so near again? I was so close yet compelled to give up just like in the dream. I wish I could say it was as easy as a simple choice but it wasn't. Anyone who has experienced panic will know it is difficult to follow your desire over self preservation. When you are feeling the onslaught most things that were precious to you become of little value and the only important thing is to stop the attack. Attack! Attack!, part of me was saying but the greater part was trying to drag me back up incline by the hand. I knew that as bad as I felt and as much as I wanted desperately to be home I could not pass up this chance having come so far. The consequences I knew would be bad but I'd already incurred them by getting here already. In my dream I'd walked away after getting so near because of the realisation I was agoraphobic. This time I was not going to let it beat me come what may. It was time to throw myself into the fire. So against my better judgement I tensed up, gritted my teeth and basically launched myself downwards crashing through everything that was in my way like a mad man. And finally I could see the river.

Wringing out the last drops of effort I got right down to the bank. In truth I was now much calmer. I'd made it. Finally after all this time of frustration I was down there at the river and if it wasn't so dirty looking I may have put my hand in it too ensure I was not dreaming again. Where I had failed asleep I wanted to ensure I had conquered awake. I could actually have stayed longer. I took a few snaps and even on zoom there was no blur as I was not shaking. My breathing had regulated again. What kept me from staying longer though was the prospect of the return journey. If I had the ability to click my fingers and be in the house again when I wanted then I would have spent a great deal of time down there. The panic had been washed away by the sight of this great body of water that I always see from afar but now all alone with no one to bother me I was relaxed, apart from getting home.

It should have been a cause for celebrating. To the left you can see the journey which looks less impressive from above but is there nonetheless and is enlargeable. To long to do something and finally do it should be applauded, or at least you should give yourself some credit. But as every agoraphobic will know who has endured a trial and come through it the reward is not pure. Its scarred by the torture that is not only in that present moment but lasts for a long time after. My temporary serenity was about to be crushed. Even though I was relaxed the mind was too preoccupied fighting off the negative thoughts hammering on the gate to remember what I had been planning to do when I got down there. I had actually envisaged trying out different camera settings and also to use my mini tripod to capture 3 different exposures of the same scene to blend later in an HDR image. It was more a snapping frenzy than a controlled photography session. And what I also realised was that this Attack! Attack! mantra was nonesense. Pushing through panic is not difficult. Dealing with the consequences of doing so is the hard part.

There was only so long I could keep my back to the inevitable. At some point I would have to turn around. What resources I had within me I had spent in full getting this far and had nothing to repeat the journey in reverse. To add to it the return was all uphill and would begin with a fairly steep incline. All it took was turning around to face what I could not see for full blown panic to hit me. It was my worst nightmare come true and one of the things I had been dreading most would happen some day- a panic attack alone in seclusion. This panic though was very different. Panic for me always starts with a shaking at the back of my neck. This started with heavy hyperventilation. That in itself was not new. The night I tried to get to Bothwell Bridge it happened there, also one the return, but I did also have the shakes first then. I couldn't see the top of the incline and in fact I could see very little as the image illustrates. In my mind just getting back to the path seemed like a 3 day trek. I had no idea how far I had come and feared it was a long way. With panic raging I started the climb to get out of the woodland and it was one of the most horrible and frightening experiences I've had in recent months.

Somehow, probably because fear was propelling me, I got back on to the path and could see the stairs leading up to the clearing but things had gotten a whole lot worse. My whole chest was heaving. I tried to take a deep breath but it was impossible as my body commanded short sharp intakes. One of the things I have been thankful for over the years is that as bad as my panic attacks are I don't get one usually common symptom- something concerning the heart. Now I knew what that was like. It was thumping against my chest and racing at high speed. More worrying was the thumping speeding pulse in my right ear which I have to admit was scaring me no end. People usually wake up with these sensation in their bed and that is bad enough but I was in the middle of nowhere and hadn't even told my wife where I was going. As much as I needed to sit down my urge to get home pushed me up the stairs, under the bridge and up the road back home but now without incident. Its not an experience I want to put myself through again any time soon but I can at least tick another checkbox on my to-do list.

Was it worth it? Maybe in a week or longer I will think so but not at the moment. The consequences of pushing beyond the norm don't just stop when you get home. The rest of the day was virtual write off, though I did go out in the car again almost straight after, and the day after has been difficult. Mainly the chest is very tight which was probably down to the exertions, tensions and overall panic. It makes breathing more shallow and can be quite uncomfortable. I also feel shattered- like I've run a marathon. So was it worth all this grief for a moment that I am unlikely to repeat? Time will tell. As bad as I felt today I still went for a long walk. Not to the point of panic but I was surprised when I mapped it later to find I'd actually walked further than yesterday. All roads lead to the mind being the main protagonist- maybe even the only protagonist. I want to just walk one day until I can walk no more and see where it takes me. I just wonder how far I can push my body against my own mind. I just wonder how far I can walk if I don't need to look back. For now though I will try to take things a little easier. A 6 month obsession has been realised but there are many more that won't rest until I have lived them.

One last thing I am not comfortable about typing here but will anyway. When I finally got out of perceived danger and on the way home I saw something coming out of the woods. Something I have to suspect was a hallucination. It was someone I am sure. They seemed to be coming right for me out of the woods to my left, as seen in the photo below I took on the way down. They were coming beyond on the wall and at the time I was sure it was a Native American and yet wearing a bright yellow jacket. Bizarre I know but it freaked me. And I kept thinking someone was coming when I got through the tunnel and waiting to hear footsteps quicken behind me as I struggled for breath but they never came. As I said it feels stupid typing this but I feel I need to. That is was happened at the time as irrational as it sounds. 

Up the bridge

Haven't had much to blog about this past week to be honest and that trend continues but I felt the need to post something at least in case people had thought I'd fallen off the side of the planet. Its hard to describe things at the moment. Its like I'm still waiting for the year, decade, to begin and in the meantime the monotony of a life that is the same each day fills the gaps with no promise of anything new on the horizon. The turn of the year was not a time where I made plans for the future, just more firefighting in the year ahead and maybe that is why I have become very irritable with the kids and lacking in any material to blog about. When I go out with my camera all I see are the same things I have taken many photographs of previously. At home its the same noise and tantrums. There is something lacking. Something that I must find myself. A little bitty thing to give me the spark to propel myself into life instead of pushing my way in to it with no purpose.

Anyway I think that is what catapulted me out the door tonight. Things coming to a head and the need to just be somewhere different. An hour before I went out I had already tried taking my oldest daughter and made it just past the end of the street before losing my rag. She insisted on taking a toy High School Musical mp3 player with her and cried and threw fits and all else when the headphones kept falling out her ears to the point where I had enough and sent her home on her own. From behind a bush I watched her sulk all the way to the door and slip inside while trying to bring my stress levels down. Then realising I was already defeated I followed her lead. I should say that this is a culmination of factors. The boy has been very ill and for the last few days I've been ill as well as pulling some buggering muscle in my neck while the girls have found an attitude that doesn't blend well with my mood and as much as I know it does me no good to blow my top I do it on instinct.

An hour or so later I had calmed down enough to head back out on my own. I had a couple of routes in mind and chose to go down the nearest one which seemed logical. In my mind I had a photo- that old chestnut again. And as any regular reader has come to expect what I had in mind never quite came to fruition but the small jaunt was worth more than any digital image. And that photo was of a passing train at night and to do that I would have to get trackside.

In terms of distance I'd chosen the closest route but hadn't actually thought it through. The other two routes were straight forward. When I got to my destination, above, I realised I'd have to climb up. Not good for me at the best of times but less so in the snow on a very steep incline. And I should just say that just as I approached the bridge a train passed and I realised also that I should have looked on the web to get train times. Anyway I attempted to climb and fell back down a few times making lots of groaning sounds and a bit of a fool of myself. Grabbing branches I tried to keep as even a keel as I could and eventually made the mount but not without some difficulty. At the top that should have been that after I had pushed my way through more low hanging branches but it wasn't.

Now for the anxiety part. I was there. All I needed to do was wait but I can't wait. Not only that but I had a growing feeling of paranoia. Were there people about here watching me? Probably not and the silence begged to differ but I couldn't rid myself of the feeling- some weirdo climbing up slopes with a camera. Then there were the few houses in close proximity which would not have been used to anyone being outside their home in the dark and never mind making such a noise scrambling up a bridge. What would any of them think if they looked out of their window? Would they call the police? And on top of that the growing paranoia was causing growing panic to the point where I could hardly hold the camera to take some test shots in the dark to get the correct exposure. I got the tripod out, a little gorillapod which is a godsend, and mounted it but even then I was starting to shake. Ridiculous but the feeling was very real. As always the overriding feeling was of where I was in relation to home and the things that could stop me returning there and that it might be a slog to get back and also whether the tension caused by anxiety would allow me enough air in my lungs to make it.

To cut a long story short I stayed longer than I thought I could and actually passed into a kind of calm. You may think I went through panic which would be something to celebrate but I did not. I guess this is why I cannot see that happening any time soon. I calmed and managed to compose myself but the threat was still ever present and rather than being able to fully relax I was fighting the next attack off. I waited all of 5 minutes which doesn't sound much, and on reflection I wish I had stayed longer now, but it was more than I expected. Part of my mentality thinks that I have a job ahead so might as well get it over and done with. No train passed by but I did at least get some photos to prove I was there.

When when I was finished I went full tilt on my backside down the slope at speed grabbing at branches which should have been a cause for embarrassment but for some reason I found myself lying flat on my back in the snow laughing to myself in the partial dark and eerie silence. It was a very strange feeling but good, almost primitive, and it was only when walking home and passing two people going in the direction I came from that I realised I might have felt different had I looked up to see a couple of eyes staring down.

Anyways, all good and a much needed diversion tonight which for a small time gave me some peace. Despite the perceived threat standing on the bridge waiting for a train to come there was something very peaceful about being on my own in silence with no one, I could see, around. It was a feeling part of me wanted to hold on to but the anxious part was jumping up and down banging cymbals vigorously to distract me. I didn't get the shot I wanted but that can wait for another night and is an excuse to go down again- though not too often or the residents down there will be suspicious. At the very least at a time I have been struggling to get out it has at least got me out and will do again.

On the trail

I was there and yet not there. Seeing something for so long and finally in that moment can do that. Waiting for so long with little hope to find yourself arrived has an unreal feeling to it. In fact I'd gone beyond what I'd hoped for. In a small woodland where lies a beautiful nature trail I stood at a tiny bridge watching the stream rush. The noise was astounding. The water echoed within the close confines of the tree. But for the whether I could have been on another continent rather than just over a mile from home. My only regret is that I forgot to put my hand in the water. Alone with no one to bother me and at one some what with nature in its sights and sounds all I had to do was put my hand in the crystal clear cold. Never mind I will do it next time.

I'd actually come for the above, that is down to the David Livingstone centre. The brilliant bronze monument to the explorer was what I wanted to photograph and finally today I managed it. I went in the car for the first time down there during the day fighting anxiety all the way with my wife driving and my son in the back with the daughters at school and nursery. I fought the urge to turn back as we sat in the car park, fought the urge to run back to the car when we were out and finally all seemed tranquil as I relaxed. I had my snap in the bag but we ventured further through droplets of rain.

Now that the boy can walk we allowed him to take the lead as my wife and I walked down to the Globe Fountain. It would be beautiful if the water did not look like a sewer- possibly something to do with cutbacks after the recent threat of closure. Unfortunately also the fountain was not on which was a pity but again probably cost cutting. Nice all the same.

Then I went a-wandering along the nature trail on my own my my wife looked after the boy, as described above. It was so peaceful I could have stayed there for longer and hopefully some time in the future will. A couple of momentary dizzy moments apart I had no anxiety and felt very relaxed. My wife also enjoyed it and the boy made his feelings known with a constant volley of happy shouting. Afterwards we drove to the nursery and picked up my daughter which topped off a perfect afternoon. Not one of the better days, the best day in a long while. I'm tired now but also content. Below are a couple of more photos from the nature trail which I hope to find out more about on a second visit and venture further in too as I only skimmed the top.

Down to the bridge

Firstly I would like to apologise for the quality of the images in this post. Not what I hoped for but I will explain why later. They are so different from the ones I had in my mind. Well to be honest I had only one photograph in my mind. It has been building for a while now as I have been doing my drives. At night I always go under Bothwell Bridge. Or more precisely I go under the new bridge and can see the old historic bridge as I pass back and forth. The later at night I have driven the more often I have seen the bridge lit up in its splendour but with no way of getting to it- I cannot just stop the car on the dual carriageway. The bridge is not always lit and its not always the same when it is lit. Sometimes its blue underneath, red on top, white, partly green or a combination. In my head I have had an image taken close up in the dark which would provide a beautiful sight. In my head is where that will stay.

By road the bridge is 1.1 miles away roughly. That is a round trip of over 2 miles which is way out of my league. As yet I have to reach a 1 mile walk so walking was out of the question. I've spent hours looking over this map for places to park the car so I could walk to it but cannot find any. It is a shame that this is the case. Finally though last night I got the urge again. Having looked over the map yet again I decided that if I drove from my house, point A, to the slip road on the dual carriageway, B, I could then walk to a point where I would be able to take a photograph of the bridge, point C. I would have to do this in the dark to get the best effect, I thought, which wasn't a problem, or so I thought. Then measuring it up I found the walk itself would take a mile which is longer than I had walked before and on top of a drive that would already make me anxious it would appear an unlikely venture. But I had the urge so thought to myself I would at least make an attempt to see how far I could get.

Recently I have been reading of a few people feeling exhaustion. I know this feeling as I've had it before too but it is easy to make light of it when it is gone. Yesterday for some strange reason around mid-afternoon I was hit with a wave and struggling to keep my eyes open. In that agitated state where the mind is too awake with thoughts running like the Large Hadron Collider and the lifeless body just wanting to sleep it made for a long day. The last thing I wanted to do was go out but for some unknown reason I was also feeling compelled to. This was the first time I felt this way where I wanted nothing more than to stay indoors but at the same time had an overwhelming urge to go out and push myself. I guess that image in my head of the perfect photo was the major factor as I do get quite obsessive thoughts when I want to do something to the point that I have to do it to get some peace.

I got out in the car and drove up the dual carriageway taking the first slip road back off again. I've only been back driving 5 days and although its getting easier I am still very anxious in the car. Not knowing what to expect I found myself in an unlit little area where I parked the car. You can just about make it out in the photo above. Ironically the only thing that was clear was the one thing I had to smudge- the number plate. It was that dark- though my camera problems will become apparent later. The thought of leaving the car here did not temper the anxiety much as images of coming back to a smashed up car or it not being there filled my head. I had no time to think though. The more thinking I did the more likely I was to jump back in the car and head home so off I went walking into the unknown.

Looking at the map it all looked so simple. It was a straight path down to the bridge and depending on the layout I may not even have to go all the way down to get a photograph, I had thought. In reality it was a different prospect altogether. A narrow solitary path who's end disappeared from view. It was well lit though but if some nutter popped out behind me I was cut off or if there were some alcoholics or other problem people ahead I was in real trouble. I hadn't thought about that looking at the map. Even in day time this would be a bit worrying alone but at night it was more menacing. The further I got from the car the more I wanted to head back.



It seemed this path was never ending. The further I went the more trees enclosed and the lights disappeared. At some point the wall at my side vanished. It got more and more narrow and claustrophobic. What the hell was I doing this for? On hindsight it was stupidity. Even if I had no anxiety problems at all is this the kind of lonesome night journey a sane person would enjoy doing? Of course not. My wife later would get very angry at home because I had put myself in a potentially dangerous position without even telling her where I was going. As time passed she worried more and had no way of contacting me as I hadn't charged my phone. My folly was realised when I started to run out of breath and the path began to decline. I knew it was time to head back. But of course I didn't and instead pushed on. There should have been something liberating in that moment but there was not. It was more a growing regret that an obsession could keep pushing me deeper into my panic.

Everything was getting darker and I noticed my steps were all over the place as if I was staggering and swaying like a drunk. It was all a little disorientating as the horizon was gone and my fears pushed me in all directions. The anxiety was turning to panic and I had to fight it constantly. In almost complete black I could hear water running to my left. Very faintly I could make out the river. I must be close. There were some paths leading into the void but that was out of the question. Still I could not see the illuminated bridge so I had to push on. I did though see the new bridge. Amid the growing turmoil in my head I wondered how near it was to the old bridge forgetting completely that it is attached to it. It is impossible to think straight in such a state.



Finally I go the spot and here is where it all fell apart. I thought my planning had been meticulous but it had not up to this point and completely went to pot at that moment. The bridge itself, disappointingly, was not illuminated. It had a little bit of green light on it but nothing like the splendour I had previously seen, if you squint enough you might just see it in the image above. Regardless though I was taking a photo. I took a few and they were all terrible. It suddenly hit me that I had not set up the camera. God only knows what setting it was on. It has settings for night and even fireworks but I had left it on portrait or something like that. It was at the point where I tried to find the right setting that panic struck me. Not only were my arms and hands shaking, which I had been fighting against, but my neck started to shake which is the sure sign of a biggy. My futile attempts to find the right setting ended abruptly as I realised I now had to flee- as quickly as someone who cannot run can. The dial with all its letters signifying something was meaningless anyway now and the buttons made no more sense.

It was, I have to say, horrendous. I was scared out of my whits and shaking so much that I could hardly control myself as I tried to escape as fast as I could. Everything was too close and my sight was blurry. As the chest started to tighten each protracted inhale and exhale began to hurt and felt like there was nothing but a vacuum within. My mouth dried first and then the throat followed. All I could think of was water and some semblance of an end to this path. At one point I thought I would have to stop as I could hardly breathe and my heart was banging- which is very unusual for me. But how could I sit or lie down in this dark place not knowing what or who was around. So I had to go beyond myself and push further until eventually I got back to the car.


And I did get there but it is not something I will ever do again. As I turned the corner shock filled me as I saw an empty lane with no car in it. A couple of seconds later I realised there was another little lane beside it in the dark where I had actually parked. That little fright was the last as I climbed back into the car panting, soaked in sweat and still very shaky to drive home. Such a wasted opportunity. OK it is maybe courageous but the larger percentage was stupidity. There are no long term benefits to be had from this apart from hopefully a lesson in how not to do things. The poor quality of the photos pains the most though. That could have been avoided and was the easiest part of the night. Instead of worthwhile reminders I am left with a poor interpretation of the night's adventure.