Imaginary Menagerie: A New Blog

Over the last few weeks I’ve noticed that my voices have taken over this blog. Almost every other post has, in some way, related to my journey with hearing voices. Although I am not apologizing for this – as understanding and building a better relationship with my voices is an integral feature on my road to recovery – it’s become apparent that I (and they) have a lot to share on this topic.

As such, Audrey suggested beginning a sister blog that focuses purely on my people and my relationships with them. A place where I can talk about them without worrying whether or not I’m boring, upsetting, annoying or generally pissing off my regular audience. After I mulled over the idea for a while I realised it was actually rather a good one and set about setting it up.

One of the biggest problems since beginning the HVSG and blogging about my people is the uneasiness with which they’ve approached the whole venture. Although Meadhbh has come around and Audrey is well on the way to doing so, Vanessa and Shay are staunchly opposed to anything to do with sharing their existence with the world. However, in the process of discussing the new blog, Vanessa did ease her opposition a little when she asked if she could write the occasional blog post. This, in turn, set both Meadhbh and Audrey asking the same thing.

So, in addition to my new blog being about my journey with my voices, it will also be a place where my voices can speak freely if/when they choose to.

After many hours of heated debate over themes and blog titles (Vanessa threw a fit when Audrey and Meadhbh vetoed her suggestion of calling it “The Misses of Addylon”) we finally reached an agreement on everything and the blog is now live. At present it contains only reposts of posts that have already been featured on this blog (such as my HVSG posts and the Victim to Victor series) but over the coming weeks all hearing voices related posts will be posted on Imaginary Menagerie instead of on this blog.

So, feel free to pay Imaginary Menagerie: My Journey with Hearing Voices a visit, you’re most welcome! :)

Note: The three avatars depicted in the Imaginary Menagerie header (above) are visual representations of (from left to right) Vanessa, Audrey and Meadhbh. They were designed, with my help, by the women themselves. Hence why Meadhbh has a whip, for she feels she might need one to keep any unruly readers in line!

Working with Voices: Dreams

Previously, in my series completing the Working with Voices: Victim to Victor workbook…
~ Introduction ~

“Far away there in the sunshine are my highest aspirations. I may not reach them, but I can look up and see their beauty, believe in them, and try to follow where they lead.”
~ Louisa May Alcott ~

My life goals…

“Close your eyes and think about what you want to achieve by working though this workbook. Spend at least thirty minutes simply thinking about where you want to be in your life.”

Several weeks ago, during the second week of my Hearing Voices Support Group, we completed this very same exercise. During that group we had considerably less than thirty minutes to think about where we would like to be in life, but I wrote the following dreams:

◊ To feel more connected to myself both physically and mentally
◊ To no longer be afraid of being homeless again
◊ To be able to talk to people without intense anxiety (making me look like a twat!)
◊ To acknowledge my achievements instead of constantly berating them
◊ To feel happiness again
◊ To see my writing published again
◊ Increase my confidence
◊ To no longer be isolated and alone
◊ To have a better relationship with my voices
◊ To love and be loved in return (cheers, Moulin Rouge!)
◊ To believe in myself
◊ To have a pet turtle (whom I shall name Magnus)
◊ To have a family
◊ To no longer be traumatized by abuse
◊ To be able to share my thoughts without fear of judgment, ridicule and humiliation

Now that I have had more time to contemplate, I would like to add the following to that list:

◊ To better manage my insomnia and sleeping patterns
◊ To build a stronger and more varied set of coping skills
◊ To become a functioning and contributing member of society
◊ To find a head space where I am not controlled by fear, negative thought or anxiety

If, in the future, I think of any further dreams I will add them to the above list alongside a notation of when it was added.

My goals for 2013…

“Then ask what would be realistic to achieve in one years’ time.”

Earlier this year I wrote a blog post in which I shared thirteen of my goals for 2013. As it fits neatly into this section of the workbook I have rewritten the thirteen goals, along with any updates of my progress (if there has been any).

1. Cross item one from the 101 things I want to do before I die list
Having narrowly missed out on this a few weeks ago (cheers poverty and anxiety!) this may (and I stress MAY) happen on July 13th…if all goes to plan! :p
2. Return to the Kings Domain so I can scream ‘Fuck you homelessness, I beat your ass!”
As item (1) involves travelling to Melbourne, this may (and I stress MAY) happen on July 14th…if all goes to plan! :p
3. Continue going to the Hearing Voices Support Group on a weekly basis
So far I’ve missed only one group this year and am actually looking forward (!) to attending on Friday after the break for Easter last week! :)
4. Keep working toward obtaining ongoing mental health support
I still haven’t found the courage to see a psychiatrist but I haven’t ruled it out, yet. I will also be doing more therapy focussed groups next term.
5. Start writing my novel(s) again
6. Smile more
7. Stop procrastinating about writing and sending emails
8. Expand my social networking presence
9. Go on a holiday
10. Make at least one new friend (in real-life)
11. See at least 6 films in the cinema
Still only seen the one. So now I have to see five films in eight months. Not looking good! :/
12. Write at least one blog post in every month of the year
January…check, February…check, March…check, April…check! Yep, all going well so far!
13. To stop being so hard on myself all the time and begin believing how seriously freaking awesome I am!
No change yet.

And as I am no longer constrained by the limitations of a Thursday Thirteen post, I would like to add:

14. To exchange a ‘hug’
Because it’s been far (FAR) too long since I was last hugged!

As it’s been so long since I hugged anyone I realised some research was necessary if I stand any chance of achieving this goal. I’m not sure if I’m capable of a “flying hug” just yet…perhaps that will be something to work toward in 2014! :p

~ Next ~
Nightmares

Working with Voices: Victim to Victor

Over the last several weeks I’ve been mentioning a Hearing Voices book that I’ve been working through. This book is called Working with Voices: Victim to Victor (by Ron Coleman and Mike Smith) and its goal is to help a voice hearer better understand the relationships they have with their voices. By examining a voice hearer’s history, including the power and influence their voices have on their life, a voice hearer can develop new coping skills, foster better relationships and use this knowledge to work towards a brighter, safer, future.

Although relatively short in length, the various exercises throughout the book can be quite confronting for a voice hearer. As such, it is recommended that you complete the workbook with the support of understanding individuals. In my life, this means you! ;)

So, over the coming weeks, I’ll be sharing each of the exercises so that you – and I – can build a better understanding of my life and people. This way, if I have some form of meltdown brought on by one or more of my responses, you guys can either giggle smugly or offer words of support (whatever you feel like doing at the time!) :p

Foreword

The book begins with a foreword from Professor Marius Romme and Sandra Escher, who are credited as creating the Hearing Voices Movement in 1987. This movement regards itself as being a post-psychiatric organisation,positioning itself outside of the mental health world in recognition that voices, in their view, are an aspect of human differentness, rather than a mental health problem and that, as with homosexuality (also regarded by psychiatry in historical times as an illness), one of the main issues is about human rights. As with homosexuality, members of the movement intend to change the way society perceives the experience, and psychiatry’s attitude will follow.

This book is for voice hearers and the people they select to support them. It will enable people who have difficulties to cope with their voices and to discover different sides to their voices. Following a systematic approach it will unfold their relationship with the voices and by doing so will stimulate them to acquire more effective ways of coping. Most important in this process, and well stimulated in this workbook, is to take ownership of the experience from writing one’s own life history in relation to ones voices.

In social fields and in medial care hearing voices is seen as the consequence of mental illness. Voices are felt only to be very negative, and must be controlled by professionals. Voices are hardly ever interpreted as the messengers of the person’s life history.

This book however helps  a person to overcome three handicaps:

1) The idea that hearing voices is the consequence of an existing illness within the person, most likely being schizophrenia, an illness of unknown origin.
2) The idea that schizophrenia is a diagnosis of an illness not related in an understandable manner with the life history of that person.
3) The idea that the person as the consequence of the illness concept is powerless against the voices, that the voices are not owned by the person, whilst in fact the voices are a persons own experience understandable from the personal trauma’s or overpowering problems with life.

~from the foreward to ‘Working with Voices: Victim to Victor’

Ground Rules

At the beginning of the book is a series of ground rules. As I will be sharing each exercise with you, I feel it pertinent to make you aware of these rules.

1. Voices are real, pointless arguments about whom they are real for are, by definition, pointless!
2. Voices in themselves may not be the problem rather relationships with them, the power they have and their influence in a persons’ life may be the problem.
3. This book belongs to the voice hearer, it should be a record of their experience, their coping and their plans for the future.
4. It is all right for new coping strategies to be slow to work.
5. Many people try different ways of dealing with voices. It is better to try to partially succeed than to never to try at all. You are in charge as long as you try. You are no longer the victim you are now the victor.
6. Take your time, there are no prizes for finishing quickly.

The Process

The following is the process that the book works through.

• Identifying your experiences
  Identifying your experiences in your own words and as you see them.
• Exploring your experiences
  Looking in-depth at your experiences and looking beyond yourself to others and their reactions.
• Understanding your experiences
  This is for you, and with your permission a chosen person, to begin to understand and to put into context your experiences.
• Moving on
  This phase is about accepting if you want to, and making choices about how you want to cope and live with your voices. It is also about developing strategies for you to take control in your life and for some getting back your life as you want it.
• What do you want from this workbook?
  Having dreams and objectives at the beginning of the process gives us a much greater incentive to move forward.
• Creating your future
  Where you want to be in your life, how you will get there, what you need to get their, who you need to help you get there and what the pitfalls on your journey might be.

As I share more of the exercises – beginning with goals, moving through my voices life history and ending with planning for the future – this process (and the ideals behind the Hearing Voices Movement) will become more apparent. If you have any questions about my voices and experiences, either now or as we proceed, don’t be afraid to ask. If I can answer them, I shall. If I can’t, then perhaps one of my people will! ;)

~ Next time: Dreams ~

The Blue Screen of Death (and other random oddities)

When I last saw you I was about to embark on a three-day camping adventure and however much I’d like to report that I had a wonderful, relaxing and ultimately “happy” time, I didn’t. Don’t get me wrong, I am (in hindsight) glad I went and there were some wonderful moments scattered throughout.

It’s just that I spent the three days in a heightened state of anxiety (approximately 15 on a 1-10 scale, with 1 being ‘no anxiety whatsoever’) running on pure fear and adrenalin. In fact, courtesy of Meadhbh, I had about three hours sleep in those three days – which when you factor in the near 60 kilometres I cycled throughout the trip and the twelve odd hours a day being around other people, really didn’t help my mood or anxiety all that much!

Right now – and since my return on Wednesday – I’ve been functioning at about 14 on that hypothetical anxiety scale…leading to a virtual comatose state and the ‘shutdown’ I was most scared of. There is, after all, only so much the mind and body can take before it decides to display the human version of the Blue Screen of Death!

But, in the spirit of sharing, here are some (slightly edited) extracts from my mood and voice journals from this exhausting (yet occasionally amusing) week.

Woeful Landscape © Addy [A dodgy webcam photograph of chalk on paper artwork]

Tuesday 26th March 2013

5am

For those of you who don’t know, which is probably most of you, Meadhbh loves to camp. She loves the silence, the solitude and the scratchy noises leaves make as they fall onto the canvas roof above. She likes to pretend they’re naughty demons (she doesn’t like the term ‘evil’ in this context) out looking to make mischief. Sometimes I think she just wants to join them! :p So it should go without saying that – being the first time I’ve been in a tent since February 2012 – Meadhbh leapt at the chance to come with me.

By the middle of the night she was acting like a child hyped up on a combination of red cordial, sherbet and ice-cream. Upon realising the scratchy noises she was hearing weren’t naughty demons but squeeorthy (her word) possums, she demanded we go ‘squee hunting’. So, at 1am, after nearly 48 hours of virtually no sleep, I set out into the moonlit campsite with Meadhbh hopping around like the Easter Bunny on acid. Whenever we saw a possum she’d let out a high-pitched squeak and bound over to it; only to get annoyed when it darted up a tree and out of sight.

After thirty minutes of these shenanigans, Audrey arrived to see what all the fuss was about. Following fifteen minutes of ‘fun possum facts’ the three of us settled down in a quiet spot by the lake for a ‘chat’.

Given the relative calmness of the girls demeanour, I seized the opportunity to ask them something I’ve been too scared to ask, but whether it was because of their good mood or recent ‘acceptance’ of my hearing voices journey, they answered the question and discussed it with surprising openness and honesty. The topic in question was their triggers (or, as they both dislike that term, the events that they take as an invitation to come to me) and for nearly an hour Meadhbh shared her thoughts without interruption from Audrey. After Meadhbh was done, Audrey chimed in with her own thoughts on the matter, extrapolating on them with a depth and insight that rendered Meadhbh jealous, prompting my Faerie Dominatrix to interrupt with added information on the thoughts she’d shared. Meadhbh can be quite competitive at times! After they had both finished – and given her absence – we debated Vanessa’s possible triggers, building a rather hefty list on what events invite that abusive bitch into my day.

After this lengthy – and useful – exchange (which I will be sharing in a post later in the week), Audrey left us to it. Over the last few weeks she’s been less critical not only of me, but also Meadhbh, and as a result seems to be more understanding of the pressure I’ve been under and my need for one-on-one time with my people. After a final squee hunt of the campsite we returned to my tent where Meadhbh changed into a pair of black (with pink unicorns) pyjamas and snuggled up opposite me. She has apparently decided she doesn’t like me being so lonely.

Following sixteen minutes of her incessantly giggling over the foraging possums outside our tent, she struck upon the idea of luring one inside with the remnants of my Honey Baked Ham Kettle chips. Once ‘captured’ she intended to train it as a pet so I would have someone squeeorthy (besides her) to keep me company during the encroaching long winter nights. Although it sounds like a ‘gag’ suggestion, Meadhbh was being deadly serious and became increasingly annoyed when I vetoed it. After a short tantrum, that saw her throw a longer tantrum after I attempted to scold her, she began singing Hallelujah (as she knows it triggers me!)

One hour of refusing-to-stop singing later, I gave her a much firmer scolding that reduced her to fits of giggles. Apparently she likes it when I become all assertive and strict. Fortunately, after ten minutes of giggling and trying to get me to tell her off again, she allowed me to try to get some sleep with the promise of two things:

1) Another squee hunt on Tuesday night.
2) That I would share with her (by Good Friday) why I’m so absolutely terrified of the fairer (more awesome) sex.

Notes:

• Total sleep since 22/3/13: 1 hours
• Food eaten: Lettuce Roll [LCH]; Honey Baked Ham Kettle Chips [SNK]; Roast Chicken, Sweet Potatoes and Salad [DN] 

2pm

After helping me draw a landscape (see ‘Woeful Landscape’ above), Meadhbh threw one of her ‘you’re such a useless and annoying shite’ tantrums after I refused to accompany Sarah to a gigantic bouncy trampoline. Meadhbh first met Sarah at one of my pool groups several weeks ago and fell head-over-heels in love with the black and white skirt she was wearing. Ever since, she has been pestering me to find out where she got the skirt from. She doesn’t seem to understand that a random fugly man can’t walk up to a woman and enquire about their skirt without looking like they’re either cracking onto them and/or a cross-dresser. So my refusal to go bounce with her – and thus deny Meadhbh’s wishes – was bound to throw a stone at the feisty Faerie’s hornet nest.

Thus, after exploding on me, Meadhbh stormed off in a huff, adamant in her belief that I was being “a pathetic wanker” who “wasn’t trying hard enough”.

Notes:

• Total sleep since 22/3/13: 2.5 hours
• Food eaten: Fried Eggs on Toast [BF]; Turkey and Salad Roll [LCH]; Jacket Potato w/cheese and salad [DNR]; Freddo Frog [SNK].

Wednesday 27th March 2013

4am

Something my voices rarely do is apologise. Audrey has in the past, as has Meadhbh, but these events are few and far between. So when those two words slip from their lips it makes me feel a little warm and fuzzy. As I sat outside my tent this evening, Meadhbh slinked over from the ether and sat beside me. She was uncharacteristically silent, a little reserved and crestfallen. Only when I apologised did she start talking:

Meadhbh: You always fucking do that, Addy! You’ve nothing to say sorry for. Nothing. OK? So don’t. I should be the one saying I’m sorry. I acted like a brat. And. Well. I shouldn’t have said what I said. You are trying. I know that. So. Yeah. I’m sorry.
Me: You know why I didn’t go bounce, don’t you?
…[I’ve had to edit this part of the conversation, sorry]…
Me: Whether I do or not is completely irrelevant.
Meadhbh: So you say. I know you’re scared of women, Addy, I’m just trying to find out why.
Me: And I promised I’d tell you.
Meadhbh: Now?
Me: Not now.
Meadhbh: When?
Me: Thursday?
Meadhbh: When Thursday?
Me: 10pm?
Meadhbh: Pinkie promise?
Me: Pinkie promise.
Meadhbh: Will you hunt possums with me tonight?
Me: Only if we do it now. I’m really tired Meadhbh.
Meadhbh: Okay. Then bedtime story?
Me: Fine. Possums, then story, then sleep. No singing, no tantrums, no insults. You promise?
Meadhbh: Pinkie promise.
Me: Good.
Meadhbh: You need your torch.

So, for forty-five minutes we roamed the darkened campsite looking for possums. All up, we found four of them, but the squee hunt was notable for two moments:

Firstly, the third possum we found remained still long enough for Meadhbh to give a wee stroke, which made her day. Secondly, as we stood beneath a palm tree listening to the chaotic nose in the branches above, Meadhbh was getting increasingly more excited at the prospect of a possum climbing down the trunk. As the noise began to subside, she took a few paces forward and then, out of the branches, launched a gigantic black bat that scared the bejesus out of us both.

I’m not sure who screamed like a girl louder; her or me?

11:31pm

It took me 40 minutes to cycle the 15km back home. Unlike the trip there, it was all downhill and/or flat! :D

By the time I got down the high street to pay rent and catch up on my errands, I may have looked like a hideous hairy sweat monster, but I was running on an endorphin rush I can only presume would be on par with those wacky Siberians! :p

However, this rush lasted a mere ten minutes, before I ended up sitting on the carpet staring at the back of my sofa for seven hours. My body had given up. My mind had taken a vacation. I couldn’t focus, I couldn’t concentrate, I could do nothing but sit and stare at the hideous cream material I spend so much time thinking about sitting on.

Still can’t sleep though.

Grrrr!

Notes:

• Total sleep since 22/3/13: 3 hours
• Food eaten: scrambled eggs on toast [BF]; 3 slices of pepperoni pizza (with the pepperoni removed, obviously!) [DN]

Thursday 28th March 2013

3pm

All I wanted to do this morning was lie in bed and stare at the ceiling, but I’d promised I would be at the Introduction Day so dragged my exhausted ass from beneath the duvet and hiked into town, wrestling with my umbrella along the way. From conversations with my support worker I pretty much already knew what groups I’ll be doing next term, but it was worth going if only to gain a final timetable I can psyche myself up for.

This term, my focus is less on random socializing (i.e. no more scrabble) and more on education and developing coping skills. As such, my timetable consists of:

Monday: Acting Up (2hrs, AM) and Tackling Trauma (2hrs, PM)
Tuesday: ACT for Anxiety (2hrs, AM) and Mi Recovery (3hrs, PM)
Wednesday: Pool (2hrs, AM) and Men’s Wellbeing Group [?] (2.5 hrs, PM)
Thursday: Forging the Future (2hrs, PM)
Friday: HVSG (2hrs, AM)

In hindsight, it is entirely possible, especially if I can’t push past this morose suicidal exhaustion that I will die (or at the least, pass out) by operating to this insane timetable. Thus, it may be necessary to remove some of the groups (the Men’s Wellbeing Group would be the obvious to eradicate) once things get started.

After the Introduction Day all I wanted to do was come home and pass out, however, first I needed to undertake a small interview in preparation for the Mi Recovery group (Note: there will be a lot more about this on the blog in the coming weeks, as it is the group I’m most looking forward to attending, for reasons that will become apparent!) then, with all supermarkets closed tomorrow, I needed to do a food shop as now is not the time for one of my patented ‘starvation due to body image’ periods.

However, all this was thrown into disarray after I bumped into someone I can’t even remember the name of. She’s a nice person – someone I knew back in my ‘homeless’ days – but she caught me off guard and I ended up having a peppermint tea with her. Given how unfocused I am, given how exhausted I am, given how much I just wanted to crawl back into bed, I was atrocious company – something that only added to my self-hate and anxiety issues, especially with today being as busy as it’s been.

So I finally got home half-an-hour ago. I still haven’t unpacked the shopping (frozen stuff…shit!) because all I’ve done is sit staring at the back of the sofa again.

Go me!

12:32am

Okay, technically it’s Friday, but Meadhbh and I had a two-hour long conversation this evening as per my promise earlier in the week. She has asked if she could help me write a blog post about what we talked about. When I said ‘yes’ (why did I say this?) she got all excited and has gone off to think about how to word things. She will, according to her, be back sometime soon.

Yay me!

Notes:

• Total sleep since 22/3/13: 5 hours
• Food eaten: 2 x chocolate chip hot cross buns [SNK]; 1 x bowl of chunky vegetable soup [DN]
  

Friday 29th March 2013

9:21am

Good Friday sucks ass! As far as I’m concerned public holidays can go rot in hell! Do people not realise that some people are socially isolated and don’t have anyone to buy them Lindt Bunnies, sit and eat fish or generally hang out and have fun with? Why doth the radio continue rubbing in my failures and miseries? Hasn’t it got anything better to do? Nope, Good Friday, Easter Monday and the two days sandwiched in between can be wiped off the face of the calendar for all I’m concerned.

Where’s my lighter?

5:39pm

Questions:

1) Why did you just rent Skyfall hoping it would cheer you up? Bond is a fucking trigger you moronic wombat! What were you thinking?
2) Even so, why has the entire world gone ape-shit for this mediocre (at best) action movie. The best thing about it is the theme song!
3) Why in god’s earth did you rent The Dinosaur Project hoping it would cheer you up? It’s a found-footage movie you moronic wombat! What were you thinking?
4) Even so, why has the entire world not yet realised how pathetic it is to kill the female character first. Especially when the male characters are all annoying little shites.
5) Why did you not rent Frankenweenie or Damsels in Distress or Ruby Sparks or any number of actually (allegedly) decent movies you want to see?
6) Even so, why does drinking alcohol frequently make me refer to myself as a moronic wombat? Isn’t that wombatist?

11:57pm

I fucking hate Easter! How sad is it to buy yourself a Lindt Chocolate Bunny?

11:59pm

Audrey just told me it isn’t at all sad to buy yourself a Lindt Chocolate Bunny, they are, after all, the food of the goddesses. Especially as you get a little bell with them! :)

Notes:

• Total sleep since 22/3/13: 5 hours (yep, no sleep last night!)
  
• Food eaten: 1 x Lindt Chocolate Bunny [SNK]
  

Saturday 30th March 2013

11:12am

Sooooooo…tired! :(

Can I just die, please? Or at the very least have a good night’s sleep?

11:42pm

Thank you Patrick Kline (whomever you may be) for this wonderfully insightful comment:

Why do people think they’re being clever posting such comments on a website written by an (occasionally) suicidal mentally ill man? :/

Fucking trolls! Just what I need at the moment!

Notes:

• Total sleep since 22/3/13: 5 hours (yep, still no sleep!)
  
• Food eaten: Nothing.
  

I think I need to take a cue from this delightfully cute wombat and get a good night’s sleep…it would probably work wonders for my current mood and concentration! :p

Back to basics…

Christina Aguilera | Back to Basics

Don’t worry, this post isn’t about me stripping down and baring my naked body to the world, nor is it about me deciding to release a cover version of the ‘classic’ Christina Aguilera song. Let’s be honest, the world needs neither of those things! This post stems from two conversations I’ve had with Audrey over the last two days.

The first conversation took place at approximately 3am on Friday morning. After waking me up from a particularly bizarre dream, Audrey decided to launch into a 38 minute monologue about her ‘thoughts’ regarding my blog; why she felt I wasn’t writing much anymore, why she believed I no longer feel pride about what I’m writing and a massive list of all the things she believed I should be doing to rectify the situation.

As I sat there in stunned silence – Audrey has always been a staunch opponent of my blog, so why the sudden change to advocate? – I realised that some of what she was saying was true. However, given it was the middle of the night and I was tired, exhausted and desperately in need of at least an hours sleep, I politely asked her if we could talk about this tomorrow. Although she expressed her wish to talk about it now, she agreed to hold off until later in the day but only if we met in the gardens she’d fallen in love with on our way back from the HVSG two weeks ago.

Therefore, the second conversation took place at approximately 3pm on Friday afternoon in the gardens she loves so much. Personally, I don’t really see the appeal. Yes, there is a small pond and yes, there are some awesome (most likely evil) ducks, but given our lack of rain the rest of the ‘gardens’ currently consist of dried out yellow grass that stab into your posterior when you sit down. Although this seemed to bother me far more than it bothered Audrey, who barely raised an eyebrow as she sat her cotton green dress wearing posterior down and suggested I take out my notebook.

After a brief conversation about how my HVSG had gone (more on that tomorrow) she began by reiterating what she had said in the middle of the night; that the reason [my] blog was not producing the same level of output or satisfaction as it once did was down to how far removed it is from what it once was. Several years ago, the central themes of the blog were mental health, discrimination and living with a mental illness. Now, it was about random books, odd posts about nothing and time-wasting.

According to Audrey, the substance that used to impress her so much had been replaced with an uninspired blandness that is neither thought-provoking nor inspirational. Then, whilst looking me dead in the eyes, she said I needed to go back to basics.

To her surprise (and happiness) I agreed with her. In fact, I pointed out something I’d written just last week that proved I’d been thinking along the same lines but didn’t quite know what to do about it.

Being an advocate for mental health, homelessness and sharing such personal (and intimate) details is fraught with danger, stress and potentially triggering material. Without any means to combat such emotions, writing as I once did was potentially dangerous for my current ‘fragile’ mental state.

So she told me (and if her becoming a supporter of my blog surprised me, this absolutely floored me) that she would do what she could to help me deal with whatever negative emotions that arose. Amused by my stunned silence, she began listing ideas she’d been brainstorming for possible future posts. These ideas generated a lengthy (near two-hour) session in which we lay on the grass discussing (and enjoying) how we could get my blog back to something I was proud of again.

In the end, we decided the best way to safely work toward this was to take a two-pronged approach:

(1) To finish and publish the timeline of my life (incorporating all major events that contributed to my mental health) that I’ve been writing for nearly a year.
(2) To undertake the twelve day Try Looking At It Through My Eyes challenge, as created by BoldKevin on Voices of Glass. Something I’ve been meaning to do for months. (I will hopefully be commencing this on Monday!)

By the end of the conversation I was more animated and inspired than I’ve felt in months; something that brought a rare smile to Audrey’s lips. Hopefully this mood that Audrey seems to be in will last a little longer, for she is far more fun to be around when she’s being nice than when she’s being abusive!

I’m also hoping that the inspired frame of  mind I found myself in will continue, for it has been far too long since I’ve felt anything other than morose suicidal exhaustion.

We shall see! :)

~ Please note, all text in orange are direct quotes spoken by Audrey during the conversation ~

Hearing Voices Support Group: Week 06

PREVIOUS ‘HEARING VOICES SUPPORT GROUP’ ENTRIES
| WEEK 01 | WEEK 02 | WEEK 03 | WEEK 04 | WEEK 05 |

One of the big aspects of my social anxiety is my inability to make eye contact, with anyone; including this photograph!

Getting there…

Combatting my anxiety requires preparation. A trip to the supermarket needs at least one hour of build-up. In order to attend a social group I need at least three hours to ready myself. A munch, or non MH related social outing, requires at least a week for me to build the confidence and resolve to attend. My HVSG needs approximately five hours, thus, as is usual for me on a Friday morning, I set my alarm for 4am so I would leave myself enough time to ‘prepare’ for the assault on my self-worth and anxiety.

It turns out I didn’t need to set the alarm – what with the paltry amount of sleep I received that night – but even if I had needed to, it would all have been in vain anyway, for by the time I left my unit I was a raging battleground of anxiety, confusion and WTF feelings.

Ever since the second week of my HVSG journey, Meadhbh has been accompanying me to the group. She appears out of the ether at least half an hour before I’m due to leave, takes her place on my handlebars when it’s time, and natters incessantly to me along the way. Only this week she didn’t appear; not half an hour before, not mid-way through the cycle ride, nor at any point in the morning.

Truth be told, having a conversation free cycle ride was somewhat of a relief as it allowed me to focus on cycling safely rather than combatting the distraction (and frustration) her personality exudes. But through it all I was left wondering where she was; a question I’ve been asking about all of my voices over the last week.

The two extremes…

Last week, when I walked late into the group, there were fifteen odd deathly silent people staring at me. This week, as I walked late into the group, there were four not-so-deathly silent people staring at me. Over the following fifteen minutes two more people would appear, then, a few minutes later, a seventh.

The eighth – and final – person would appear forty minutes late, missing one of the most random (and monumental moments) of 2013.

Good God man, what the hell do you think you’re doing?

After the usual introduction welcoming us and our voices to the group we turned to the always anxiety producing ‘how was your week’ segment of the group. Regular readers of these posts will know that my reaction ranges from saying absolutely nothing at all to babbling a few incoherent sentences before quickly scampering out the door.

Following the group leader’s question so, who wants to go first? all seven of us sat in deathly silence hoping the spotlight wouldn’t fall on us. After she was forced to ask it a second and then third time, I breathed deeply and threw myself into the deep end. For the very first time in this – or any other group situation – I spoke first! :)

I explained how exhausted I was. How distracted I was. How shitty I’d been feeling. And how I hadn’t been sleeping in fear of nightmare and trauma triggering.

I explained how none of my voices had been around since the weekend. How confusing this was. How much of a relief it was. How unsettling it was.

I explained how my voices usually leap on me when I’m emotionally exhausted. How this state gives them more power. How I don’t understand what’s going on.

I explained how I’m terrified my voices are planning something big for it’s very unusual for them to be this silent for this long.

Then I answered questions: do I miss my voices? (yes to Meadhbh and Audrey, absolute no to Vanessa);  why do I think they haven’t spoken to me this week? (it has to be some sort of trap!); do I discuss the events of the groups with them? (yup, especially Meadhbh and Audrey); what do you think will happen when they show themselves? (who knows, but based on past experience, it won’t be pretty!)

All up, I spoke for approximately twenty-five minutes. Anxiety was definitely present, but no-where near as all-consuming as it has been in the past!

Woohoo! :D

Smoko…

So by the time the mid-way break came around, I was feeling pretty good about myself! I did a couple of circuits of the park beside where we meet, smoked a few cigarettes, had a cat-nap because of my exhaustion and spent fifteen minutes analysing why I’d been able to speak so much so early in the group.

Most of you will know by now I spend far too much time analysing every facet of my life. Where do these dreams come from? Why do I want to experience something that most people (erroneously) consider to be weird? What reason is there for me liking Honey Baked Ham Kettle chips so much when I despise the taste of actual ham?

As I returned to the group I came to two conclusions, both of which were insanely obvious:

(i) The group was small; and as I have all-too-frequently said, the smaller the group, the more I talk. Hell, you put me one-on-one and I’ll lead the conversation!
(ii) There was no trigger present (at that point); and in all the other groups, there has been!

Unfortunately, I have no way to control these two factors, so if I want to talk more in the group I need to re-empower myself to be able to share more frequently.

Shame it didn’t continue…

Unfortunately, talkative Addy didn’t last. By the time the second half of the group rolled around there was a trigger present so I reverted to the silent, stoic Addy most people know and hate. For half an hour the five other people in the room (the others had left) had a long and amusing discussion on everything from triggers to voice history to God to coping skills and strategies for dealing with mental health to how a woman would slap a man if he walked up to her and said ‘show me your tits’!

And yet even though I’m opinionated in all areas of the above, I said nothing. I merely sat there like a moron, sipping on my water, pondering how everyone in the room must think I was a twat for being the only person not saying anything.

The most interesting aspect of this discussion was about re-empowering yourself from triggers; something that immediately perked me up considering what I’d been thinking during the smoko. One of the other members of the group shared their experience of re-empowering themselves from serious triggers, in which they took the trigger and found a way to take ownership of it, leaving me realising I have an awful long way to go toward achieving this considering I am the King of Avoidance!

Given the explanation they gave of their re-empowerment journey involved support from friends and support workers, I also realised that doing it alone will be almost impossible. But hey, isn’t that the story of my life?

Eye contact…

One of the big aspects of my social anxiety is my inability to make eye contact, with anyone.

When I’m purchasing things from shop assistants, no eye contact. When I’m walking down the street, no eye contact. When I’m at my munches, no eye contact. When I’m talking to my people, no eye contact (this seriously annoys Meadhbh and Audrey, who think that my refusal to look them in the eye means they have ugly eyes or that I’m just not interested in them). When I’m talking to my counselor or support worker, no eye contact.

The rule is: no eye contact with anyone ever, otherwise chaos and armageddon will ensue!

As the (quite inspirational) member of the group continued their advice on re-empowering, she advised me of a way I could try to communicate with my voices and bring a semblance of control to my relationship with them. This involved making eye contact with them, which meant I had to make eye contact with her so I could properly understand what she was talking about.

Cue a sudden surge in my anxiety that refused to dissipate for at least thirty-six hours!

Back to normal…

This surge in anxiety ended the group as all the others did; with me a barrel of nerves, sweaty palms and self-criticism. Thus, because of my solo cycling, I had to stop several times on the way home in order to combat the ever-increasing panic overflowing within me. Fortunately, extending my trip home by nearly three hours enabled me to keep the panic-volcano from erupting until about five minutes after I got home; an explosion of nerves and stress that has been fed by my exhaustion and caused me to do nothing all weekend.

As usual, I haven’t left the house once.

Not even for a minute.

One of these days I hope I’ll be able to just cycle to the group, talk when I want to, cycle home unphased and be able to function over the weekend. But from the quick deterioration of my mood from awesome-Addy to panicked-Addy on Friday, I feel this is a long way off!

~|~

Things I learned from the group this week:

• I need to research more on how to re-empower myself from my triggers.
• I need to find someone I feel comfortable enough around to help me with re-empowering myself from my triggers, for I fear this is something I am not going to be able to do alone (due to the – well – triggering aspect of my triggers!)
• Eye-contact still freaks the shit out of me for no good reason!
• Absolute proof: the less people around me, the more I talk.
• Absolute proof: the more triggers around me, the less I talk.
• I become a useless, pointless, incoherent wreck around one of my primary triggers!
• I fucking hate triggers!
• If you walk up to a woman you don’t know on the street and ask her to ‘show me your tits’, chances are you’ll get slapped. Good thing too! :p
• I still haven’t died as a result of attending the group.