Upward

Every step feels like its uphill until the next plateau. Makes me wish wonder whether I should carry a dustbin lid and sleigh my way home in style. Except its not all uphill- just metaphorically so. It is very much downhill which at first seems good but only if you travel from A to B and I never travel from A to B, always A to B and straight back to A again. Mumbly jumbly mess I am spouting here I know but its a little complicated.

Since pushing out I have been noticing gradients more and more. They are easy to find. This is an old mining village. The land is collapsing in places. The stank outside my home has just about disappeared. So its bumpy but not in immediate degrees and instead over expanses. What I have noticed is that our home appears to have been built on the crest of something- the last support- and as a consequence no matter where I go I am walking downhill. Which I already said is good but only if, unlike me, you don't need to come immediately back.

And therein lies an answer possibly to why for so long I wondered why the walking out was not the hardest part compared to the turning around and heading home. Partly that is because I use more than 50% of what I have getting out and pushing as far as I can and have to make do with what I have left to get me back home at speed. I see now though that is not the only reason. I turned and the horizon is always upward. I never used to notice gradients yet now my thinking is ruled by it.

Still I push on. I push on and on and on to cover distances people do without thinking about but to me have taken years to achieve. Two miles for the first time since this all started. Something I thought impossible now done. No wooping and yeeha-ing or jumping up clicking my heels. Instead just a burnt out mess crashed on the couch filled with regret for pushing too hard. Physical some, mental the other. How much of one and how much of the other I don't know. It leads me to try to recall how in the past I felt walking two miles. And maybe this is the problem because I cannot remember and my head instantly visualises someone without a bead of sweat breathing regularly with a bit of fatigue. But was that the case? And even if it was I was fitter then, younger then. I forget I am talking about 7-10 years ago. A quarter of a lifetime ago at the extreme. A time before my hair greyed and my face became more drawn. A more active time. So is it right to try to compare the two?

Of course not and this is what I have to try to get into my head. It doesn't matter how it felt before anymore than it feels for others. It is about how it feels now. I see from that I am still thinking about it too much. I think about it beforehand, constantly during and for a long time after but it is the after that causes the problems because my mind is set to look for problems. So I must try to be more mindful and less introspective. I must accept and let be and just keep pushing on without worrying about consequence and without regret later because there is nothing to regret when the alternative is spending the rest of days indoors miserable.

In the past I have talked of flashbacks. Random visual images of a former life. These are still as strong as ever. Now I see their purpose. They are coming more regularly now. Not alarming just a memory projected visually and briefly. In a car down a street I forgot about or sitting in a pub I forgot about. I have to say everyone is anywhere but here. None from here. Most actually from up north before I moved here. Now for the first time I see their purpose and it is a positive one. They are a reminder of what I want and where I want to be and spur to ensure I don't slack off and I keep going and even if I am exhausted to the point of panic I keep pushing myself out time after time striving to stay out longer and go further and do things I never thought possible. Ultimately to never give up and keep trying. And they are working. Its a change in mindset as I said in the last post and churns up an appetite to do more while the mind plans little things never done that can lead to bigger things down the road and all tie together at the end to not resurrect the old life but breathe a brand new better one like a metamorphosis of sorts and the breaking free from the cocoon. 

That is how it feels at least. It feels like every step is uphill and a struggle but at the end it will be worth it. Confidence builds little by little. I am hoping this is the slow start of heading out of this. Only time will tell.

White

I really am going to have to start taking my good camera out. I like the size of the compact but these blurry pics are doing my head in.

The ugly little town lies hidden beneath a blanket of white which sparkled first last night under the light of the moon and blinded today with the strong glare of the low bright sun. I read from a friend on Facebook that it was amazing how a shithole could turn into a thing of beauty with a bit of snow and he wasn't wrong- somewhere else I lived once and no better than where I am now.

In fact I have only been happy in one place I lived and maybe its not coincidence that my problems started when I had to give up my flat there to stay in this place. The biggest mistake of my life. I didn't see it at the time but then I didn't see what was coming. I was out of work, my then fiance had a job. But it was not as if she was not willing to move. She actually had a couple of interviews up North that came to nothing. And on top of that job opportunities for me existed almost solely around her area in the central belt. So as much as I didn't like it at the time I saw it only as a temporary measure. It made sense. Her flat was cheap, price up where I stayed were astronomical. She had a job and I had a better chance of finding work where she lived. So I moved in and we both looked to the future where not in the far too distant future we would move up North before, during or after starting a family.

That was the start of the century. I did find work and was there for 4 years until I was made redundant. Sandwiched in between that we married and our first child was born with the second being born a month after I was paid off. All these years later we are still here and the dream has died and it saddens me as I look out at this town I despise so much. Well not today. Today that hideous beast is hidden under the white satin veil.

The problem with an anxiety disorder, and other mental and physical problems, that have gone on for so long is that you cannot see it changing. Its hard to see it ever changing to the way it was before. I'd need to travel further than I can imagine, I'd need to stay out longer than I could contemplate, I'd need to then get a job, I'd need to earn enough to get a mortgage and finally we would then need to find enough to meet our modest financial needs. Then move. But I can't see getting out or staying out.

Maybe this is what the flashbacks are about. Its a weird thing. Flashes of places I lived before. Instances of nothing in particular. A yearning seeping occassionally through the cracks. Better days.

But I am trying and over the past few weeks or months confidence has been slowly building. With that the wick of hope is rekindled to shine even if only dimly but with each step further out or each second longer out the dull flame burns a teeny weeny wee bit brighter.

At least today its not so bad. The world of hate is buried and I hope it never melts until the day I am driving out of this hell forever sending the moon from the back window of the car back in its direction.

This is Christmas

Its been raining all day long. Doesn't feel like Christmas eve to me. Were it white outside it may be different but its not. That might even give me some incentive to shift my lazy arse out the door which I have not done since Friday but its not. Its just been a cold, dark, wet windy day. Dismal.

The kids haven't watched much TV. I remember back to my childhood and the excitement when my mum brought home the Radio and TV times two weeks before Christmas. I scanned through the lists to see what great things lay in store, mostly films. Even into my twenties I still looked forward to Christmas specials. Comdies. Lots of them. Great stuff. Now I don't bother. The kids don't bother. There is little special about the TV at Christmas. They get TV on demand any time they want it. Not just on TV but via a host of different sources.

So instead the boy sitting engrossed in his sister's 3DS all day long. The youngest girl was playing games on the laptop. The oldest was writing a play to perform tomorrow for her grandparents. Not just writing the play but getting props ready and later pulling her youngest sister reluctantly away from the PC for a rehearsal. Not the kind of Christmas I remember but things change. Not much sign of my wife. She spent most of the day, like the last few, wrapping presents in the bedroom.

So many presents. A bit of a sore point. We had got the kids all their Christmas things and then two bits of fortune fell into my wife's hands. Firstly her sister gave her a bung of cash to help over Christmas and secondly she took old jewellery to one of these gold places and got the same again almost. So a lot of cash and with our kids already covered I had hoped we could put at least half of that money away for the inevitable shortfalls next month. A day later she had 20% of it left and asked me to put it somewhere safe- I think worried that she would spend that too. And that is probably the reason why she has had to lock herself away for so long. More presents for the kids, presents for relatives and now presents for friends. Oh yes. Turns out she is one of 4 mothers who are all buying presents for the others' kids. That is 8 additional presents. In my day also teachers never got presents. Now they get them by the bucket load. 3 additional presents to buy for. And then there are a couple of birthdays that fall around about Christmas. No wonder so many people get into debt at this time of year.

As I said I have not been out much of late. I have been winding down. No reason to go out so harder to push myself out so instead hopefully preserving some energy for the new year push. At this time of year we have more visitors too. It was my wife's friend last night and my parents tonight. For the first time in a long time I struggled with panic during their visit. I thought I was over that. It caught me out the blue and really struggled to keep a lid on it. Its a reminder that I have to get back to working on my anxiety which I have not done for well over a month- maybe two. This is the endless loop. I work at it and get some relief and then because I am not experiencing full blown panic I stop working on it and before long its at me again. It needs a sustained effort, something I must be looking to do in 2013.

But in doesn't feel much like Christmas to me. I have talked a lot this year about flashbacks and of late they have come more intensely than usual. While the family were at church I wrapped my wife's presents and was taken back a few years to living up North on my own when we were first going out. I used to go out on Christmas eve into the mob and buy every present on that day. Queues and bustle and much angst for all but I didn't mind doing it that way- wasn't that long ago. Visited clear today. What I am missing. And spending the night wrapping presents with a glass of something and some music in the background. I used to always "go home" for Christmas to my parents. Then when things got serious I used to alternate between my parents and my wife's parents. All these thoughts come tumbling in.

My wife has gotten out that routine hence why my parents were here tonight- to drop off presents for the kids. She goes solely to her parents up north for Christmas with the kids. Every year. So my parents never seen us. It is in fact either 6 or 7 years since I last went there for Christmas and the same with the inlaws. Today for the first time I missed it. I actually wished I was going up north too or even going to my parents. Just somewhere other than here. Somewhere familiar that isn't here. Sick of looking at this place. Tomorrow afternoon they will all leave full of Christmas cheer and have a big Christmas dinner up north while I sit here alone for the rest of the week in an empty flat. Its something I have to admit I have usually looked forward too as there is no stress but this year I just miss being out of things. This is Christmas, not a choice I am afraid.

If things do happen for a reason then maybe I didn't appreciate things as much. Well in fact I know that is the case. And now, when I do get better, I will appreciate things. I will appreciate seeing those friends I only now see on Facebook. See family I only see very infrequently in the same place. Will appreciate going somewhere- by the sea maybe.

I know I have to do more. As they say: do what you always do and you will get what you always get. I need to work more and work harder and also be braver if I am honest. At the end of any year its not unusual to feel in a reflective mood and as I see past times come back clearer jumping avoid the empty void of the past recent years it is in my nature to feel down about it. But that is not the message they are sending me. What is in the past stays in the past. It happened, its done. Sure we can look back on that but we cannot recapture it. And the same goes for the void, the empty days all strung together into a vacuum of no memories. It is gone too. Nothing is lost, it never was there to lose. Ahead lies futures yet to be build and that is where not only hope lies but drive too. Inspired to move the arse out the door. Compelled to face the demons. The strength to tackle what lies beyond the void. The confidence that it can be done. And the renewed hope that better days lie ahead. A sense of achievement to be gained. A quality yet to be tasted and savoured. A rite of passage.

In these days ahead plenty of time for contemplation. This I think is the reason for the flashbacks. Contemplation of the days that lie ahead, the pages yet to be written. A time to plan. No more missing Christmas and birthdays and the like. No more. Better days lie ahead. It is up to me whether I want to keep sitting here staring out the window at them or go out and grab them.

Altered States

I'm feeling proud of myself for small victories. 11 weeks now of 10 mile walks. God, some people twice my age can walk that in the one go. For me though progress. I have only reached that level twice before and both those times were in 2009. The first time I only managed it 2 weeks in a row and the second time 3 times in a row. 2010 and 2011 I never got anywhere near that in a week and this year I started off struggling to break the 2 mile barrier over a week never imagining that I would get to this level for almost 3 months. Its important to give yourself a pat in the back otherwise you just keep taking on the negatives. But I do keep it in perspective. Anyone reading this would think 10 miles in a week: so what? Rightly so, in my world though it means something.

Some cruel tormentor though is at work always looking to slap me down. I logged on to Facebook this morning to look at what's going on in the lives of people I have not seen for over a decade mostly. And there was a post from my dad: 6 mile walk this morning. Slap down. Twenty years my senior and in the last year hospitalised after a heart attack. 6 miles. I struggle to get a mile under my belt. I think: what the hell is wrong with me? Why do I struggle to do a mile and he with his seniority and ill health can do 6 times that? Something is wrong. Of course its that old question for me of how much is agoraphobia and how much is fatigue and how much of the fatigue is caused by the anxiety and how much of the anxiety is caused by the fatigue and so on.

Thinking today I am begining to wonder if fatigue isn't more of a problem because to walk around my block is one third of a mile and were I to attempt doing it 18 times in a row I doubt I could manage past the 3 so that is not agoraphobia. I would start to get anxious but only because I would get breathless and unsteady and weak and feel the need to get back home and rest. Anxiety from my agoraphobic state is definitely a big issue as I know from car journeys but I also have to start accepting that fatigue is as big an issue.  If suddenly I lost my agoraphobia overnight and was anxiety free I still think I would have trouble walking far and attempting any kind of physical exercise. What I also have to remember is that before the anxiety problems started it was fatigue that led me back and forth to the GP without any resolution despite the numerous tests. Just a note.

This is been a strange old week. For the first time in what must be at least 8 years my wife and I spent as few days alone. Her parents took all 3 kids up north last Sunday and my wife went up to get them on Friday. It was strange. Strange being together and finding that with time on our hands there was not much we could do with it together- she could on her own. But for her a welcome break as I have had plenty of time on my own but this was her first time. That is the price you pay when you don't have family living nearby. I doubt, unless I can get myself well soon, there will be another period in the near or distant future until they start leaving home.

That brings me back to guilt. They are growing so quickly and I look at the oldest who is still but a toddler in my head and think she will be 10 next year. All 3 have never known any different from the now- crammed in a small damp ridden flat with no garden and a dad who doesn't work, doesn't go out, won't go to see them in plays at school and won't go weekends away with them. A dad who may very well be as well not being there, what difference would it make? If only this was enough to get me well. If only that will power was enough. Its the kind of thing that has sent me many times out the door headlong into panic and pushed through it with gritted teeth determined to get to that point I keep reading about where the panic subsides and instead finding it increasing more and more until I can take no more, come scuttling home and am of no use to anyone for weeks and sometimes months after. So frustrating.

But any road to recovery starts at least, and usually with, small steps. I wonder if a really disturbing episode is a step in that direction. When I say disturbing I mean disturbing to me at the time because I could not seem to handle it but on reflection now nothing to worry about. On Monday I had this strong sense of deja vu but with it came a sense of dread and I could not get it out of my head. The reason on reflection was probably change. My day never changes and yet here I was with my wife and no kids and it seemed to take me back a decade and unsettled me. I remember reading in a Dr Claire Weekes book once how people in a situation such as I am in can find even subtle change very hard to deal with but until Monday had never experienced it to my knowledge- though if I look back I probably have. What it did was lead to full on mental panic which is basically like a sensory overload giving a sense of unreality which if I am honest is scary even when you know what it is. I really could not get to grips with it at all but by the Tuesday it was gone. I say it could be a step in the right direction as I see it as an extreme of something else I have been experiencing lately.

Over the past few weeks and to a lesser extent over the past few months I have been experiencing weird flashbacks. Well not weird but just out of place. What they are is actually flashbacks of normality. I could be at the laptop reading or typing and see a bank of Scotland in Edinburgh where I used to withdraw money when I worked there. For a moment I see myself as a passenger in a certain street in Perth from when I lived there and a street I had forgotten about. More and more of them come. It makes me wonder if its my mind trying to make sense of it and trying to stitch back the normality that existed for so long before the agoraphobic days of my latter years. I have become so introspective and so cut off that I see it as the mind starting to build paths to the world that exists outside of the bubble I have been living in and the begining of piecing reality back together in some ways a bit like what might happen to someone who has been in a cell for 10 years and finds the outside world daunting but over time it all starts to come back and the fear of it is lost. Just a theory but one I am hopeful of as I know that I cannot just go from this existence straight back into what I once termed normality.

So positives of sorts. Also in mentioning there mental panic I was given thought to look back at the actual panic in my life of late and have to say I cannot remember any episodes. Strange but good. Last weekend was the closest right up to the arrival of my parents for the first time in a few months but it went much better than expected and then the following day I had the inlaws for a much longer time at home. No panic. Not entirely anxiety free experiences by any means and still fleeting panic with the constant threat of it going full blown but no actual panic attack. So good. More positives. I have to note these things and try to use them to spur me on. What I have learned is that I cannot rush this. I have to keep at least maintaining what I am doing and when time comes to increase things it will come naturally and gradually. I just have to go along with it and pick up every little tiny positive and pin it to my chest to remind me I could be heading in the right direction however far off the end in sight still seems.