Mission Possible

I have so much to cogitate on at the moment that it feels odd doing it with three sub-personalities - humourful Jane; mean-voice Jane; and itsi-bitsie tiny mitsie creative Jane in place most of the time but none of the other mouthy ones about, offering insight, counter argument or playfulness.  I am making connections though. Today is a good day.  It may prove pivotal; - but I am ready for the downs and the ups. More downs over the next weeks as we have agreed to go deeper.

At the moment I'm as tender as an open wound - doesn't take much to send me scampering into the undergrowth.

I have realised today in a deep way that I can actually feel a release in my diaphragm/solar plexus as though some tension has been lifted.  My revelation is that a huge amount of what I do is serial attempted and actual self-sabotage.  The thought hit me with full force as we were driving away from the centre. 

Therapists have told me in the past that my fatness is because I'm a control freak and that I need to work on being vulnerable and through that will lose my protective armour -  my blubber.  I worked on my vulnerability, but discovered I was comfy in my skin - so that was a win - win. 

Another therapist was sure my problems stemmed from a partially absent father as a child and a mother I had not broken the 'umbilical cord',  even though I was in my early twenties and preparing for ministry.  My mother was furious.  I got a life.  She had been right that I worried too much what my parents thought of me - and I guess in that sense I was still drawing energy from their affirmation or disapproval - so that grew the me-ness of me on a little.

I don't think I have ever confronted my desire to self-destruct before or recognised it quite as that- whether by avoidance - "I can't" or by shutting myself in our bedrom and pulling the duvet over my head and sleeping for as long as I possibly can; or by eating in ways that discourage healthy respect for my physical being.  The moments of truth came when I was chatting with my partner in our favourite coffee shop after the session - when I suddenly said after a long preamble about how knackered I was and how I could sleep for a week - how weird it was that this depression came at a time when yes, things were tight and there was little room to manoeuvre emotionally and physically - but a lot had come right.  A chapter coming out in a book; a publisher taking on my first novel ( actually my fifth - but commercial not creative is the name of the game), we had a summer of some of my mum's oldest friends and mine coming to stay - not to mention my step son, his partner Angie and my step-grandchildren.  Then, quite slowly, after my fall at work and the broken and bruised period of my life, I felt more and more as though I was watching a slow-motion picture show of me pretending to be good old me.  Then one day I knew I was too angry and my thoughts too dark - and my loss of enjoyment in life  so powerfully manifest in depression that the 'rabbit' was finally caught in her own headlights and had to stop.

I don't think my depression is about me saying F*** o** to the people I love and my brothers and sisters in humanity; it's my turn to be ill and pampered and given space.  It felt good when it first presented as a thought but it hasn't held on reflection.  What has caught me like a life dart right in my heart  is that this is about the me - deep in the pile of do-do's - who attacks herself rather than addresses issues that affect her in detrimental ways.  She is, when well, in her element supporting other people.  But when I am ill -  I've exposed 99% of the pain, anxiety and sabotage, which I feel is about me being not worth the paper this blog is written on.  I now have a handle.  A step on the ladder if you like - something to try on for a bit and see if it fits.  I'll keep you posted on that.

So today there has been a breakthrough and that has given me a glimmer of hope and encouragement.  I am still hour to hour.  It takes a whisper of a mishap still to send a usually resilient Jane into a fast downward spiral - but I want to make the connections now that an important link in my thinking has been made.

Good things today:

Connection - but no answers as to why I want to self-destruct as yet - well not ones that are plausible - I know now most of what's in my head is the illness.

Fed Nutmeg our rabbit pear twigs and pears and she looks a bit too stuffed from yesterday but happy.

Mungo is coming off Diaz and has the DTs.  Constant need for reassurance.  Flatulence unbelievable - my hypothesis that Diaz causes the smelliest flat's in the world is now, I think, a full-blown (if you'll pardon the pun) theory.

Cappuccino and coffee cake at Simpsons.

A new t-shirt arrived: I live in my own little world... but it's OK, they know me here!

Hard Things:

Emotional exhaustion and fear when the phone rings etc...  Worrying in the night.

Believing that even getting well will just mean I start the countdown to the next episode.

Wanting my head to stop beating me up.

Living with the constant anxiety that sometimes it really does feel bleak enough to give up - but I get checked regularly at the centre and we are going deeper emotionally to look at what this ultimate act of avoidance or non-confrontation is actually about.

I thought I might paint this afternoon - and maybe I will - but for now I feel like it is legitimately snooze time.  So I will snooze legitimately.

Comments

[Ruth Heeley]

Poor Mungo! What a crazy mut. Purely as a matter of scientific interest, does Diazapam have the same effect on you? Or is it merely on overdosing dogs?
Hang on in there, our kid! As you are taken deeper into yourself, can you believe that it's not you alone in there? The Spirit of the Trinity inhabits your soul too. Or do we need to discuss this?
Love you lots. You are in our prayers every day. Ruth.

[Jane W-G]

R.,

Thank you so much for your affirmation, love and the insights of a fellow pilgrim. Certainly I feel, even as I go deeper, that some very important connections are being made and ones that resonate at my own soul level. The moments when real transition can begin in my own experience and in watching and be-friending others. Yes, there's a way to go further down - a bit like a mine shaft lift - but I trust absolutely the judgement of the professionals working with me and know I can explore, kick back and be a part of the team 'Get Jane Well' rather than be done good to. The Church could learn a lot from mental health serices. Maybe in community we will set a new 'gold standard'!

The young one has received extra funding to stay at school for half term to give me more time. Much relief. Even though I miss the best of him every five minutes. I may have to upload his giggle to cheer me up on days when I can't get started.

Diaz stops the my knees knocking and the rocking - the outer signs of agitation - and I sleep. I don't have the post Diaz 'cool' man stage although I did have a tough time when my dosage was first reduces so his reaction of needing to be permanently with someone and frightened of his shadow yesterday was similar. Today he's back to normal bossing everyone about and deciding what we should all do.

Your love is important to me and these responses. I'm not up to much more just yet. But I do feel the connection noted in the blog is a very significant one.
God's around I think - but I need time to not even care about her just now. The advice is that to get well - it's me first for a while longer.

Going down...

Much love to you both,

J.

[Gwen]

Rejoice in the up days and let the down days look after themselves!!. What I have been hearing from your Blogs is amazing the progress you have made even though it has been a tremendously hard journey and it sounds as if you are "finding" the real you, which we can see but you have hidden from yourself. Well done that girl. I can't wait to see the new butterfly which will emerge from this crysalis.
It will happen but be gentle on yourself, "Trust the ......."
Much love and prayers Gwen