Paternally speaking

For the first time in a long time I woke up this morning missing my Dad. It’s been on my mind since,  usually I’m able to just push it away.. but we all know the more you ignore something the more it’s gonna come up and bite you in the arse.

I was angry,  and being dragged down by it.  Anything to do with them brings back the massive weighted rock in my stomach. 
There’s little I can’t do to change things in my life,  this is completely out of my control.  There’s just a ball of all the crap from all the years… it actually brings that physical sensation of not being able to breathe,  or struggling because of the weight on my chest.  Forgetting to because my body is held in that moment,  those moments… Whatever.

You know,  I’ve dealt with brother issues,  dealing with mother issues,  don’t tell me there’s daddy ones on top of that.

I know that feeling though,  it means a series of flashbacks is about to come barging their way into my existence and just ruling me for how ever long they do. It varies each time.

I guess it’s a good thing I can pinpoint this, I didn’t used to be able to. 
I thought for a while that if I could understand when I was more likely to trigger that I could avoid them.  But they are still memories trying to process so they come no matter what you do. You just gotta sit back and take it like a bitch, which just isn’t me.  I do anything I can to reduce long lasting effects though,  it rarely works,  what else can I do?

I wrote about 7 diary entries on Monday,  after giving my thoughts paperspace it was easier to breathe.
It turns out communication,  writing,  talking and such bring the memories out of the limbic system where they can never be processed, into the cortex to be processed,  labeled and filed away into the memory bank. 
I utilise this as much as I can,  but rarely in the throws of it all can I pick up the pen or make much sense at all,  purely because the memory is in the limbic system,  triggering releases cortisol which essentially blocks off access to the cortex,  you are all fight or flight.

Anyway,  I’m going to write when I need to and just do what I need to,  once the flashbacks have passed it will be easier to process all of this… I hope. 

None of it changes the situation though does it? I need to learn to let go,  with this whole part of it,  and move on. 

This is so fucking tedious.

From Sanity to stardust, in one certainty

Another big problem at the moment,  combination of little confusion,  being certsin of where I stand,  yet I clearly have misplaced my certainty. 
I need to stop worrying about coming across as vain and just continue to appear that way,  blind faith is the only way to get some things done.. Blind/gut faith in your own certainty. 

” The certainty is the foundation on which I live,  act,  love,  the new information is the change in the here and now,  the one word or interaction that has the potential to swing your whole perspective whilst remaining on the same Twiist of angle,  the same sphere of existence.
The same fundamental universal spheric cycle of life.  “

Writing the process

Anger has fueled some of best decisions and what others would consider  worst mistakes.
I am angry.  I am angry about life being on a stand still,  I am angry about the contradiction of my behaviour when I care deeply or even love someone, my lack of sleep,  my patience for those who show me none,  my impatience for those who show me it all,  oh man. 

I am angry about my childhood,  angry that I can’t have a relationship with mum which subsequently has inhibited every relationship or friendship I’ve ever had with a woman,  I’m angry at myself for being angry,  I’m angry that I deep down under all the hope peddling I see no hope in my own future or present, I am angry that I have the ability to reason most things out in my head but I still get angry.

I get annoyed when people use my ideas,  then angry at myself for that because there’s no greater compliment than someone thinking your ideas are good enough to use,  I am angry at the need and desire to be social being over ruled by my trigger setting, I’m angry at the status quo,  that we can’t all just tell each other how we feel about each other and be done with it,  all know exactly where we stand,  how lovely would that be?
I’m angry I don’t know where I stand,  with people,  poetry, street poetry,  art,  collaborations,  music, love,  desires.  The shit bit is I do know where I stand but where I stand changes frequently because I continually take in more information.  It’s not that I’m not sure,  I’m always sure,  I just take everything on board and adapt.  I need to,  otherwise I just get angry at myself. 
I’m angry most of all because actually I’m not that Angry.  The anger comes from frustration,  I’m frustrated because I’m not challenged. I’m angry because when I am challenged I have to spend a stupidly large amount of time reassuring myself I’m not too dumb,  or callous,  or distracted,  or stupid or whatever to rise to said challenge,  especially as I know I am.  It’s all feelings that bring me down, fucking bullshit feelings. 
I’m angry because I adore my emotions,  but why must it be all the time that they genuinely hinder me,  or my progress.
Feelings of shame and guilt,  and generally just like I’m a useless pile of crap just jump up and create huge road blocks to my path.

I’m angry at two people who know I feel like this involved in my physical day to day life make me feel worse.  That’s anger at myself for letting them and them for not managing to retain a bit more patience with me. 
The way I am you see,  in my day to day life is switching back to the way it used to be at times where I just don’t bother being honest about my mood or mental state because I’m made to feel it’s a negative point when being honest is what got me this far.  That they push me to be honest but aren’t themselves, and don’t have time to listen to me.  I’m angry because I don’t need time for them to listen to me but if I’m not honest my actions and words are continually mistaken for something they are not. Yet I have been acknowledged as pinpointing mood switches and reasons in them both,  and then I’m annoyed at myself for that too. 
I am angry at my open heart and my inability to shelter it properly or open it properly.  I let people in,  freak out that they can hurt me (usually realising afterwards) and pull back, or cut them off,  or ridicule myself. Not completely,  not like it used to be.  It’s not a thought process anymore,  it’s that feeling.  The memory in my body that EMDR will break up and set free.  That retained physical tension and reaction from deep within my brain.  The limbic system.

I am just plain old frustrated and angry.  Just under my ribcage,  that thing I call the burning, because technically speaking it is.  Anxiety induced raging stomach acid hitting the stomach walls,  creating a burning sensation that gradually heats my chest and sends out warmth to my limbs.

The fire that seems to travel up my spine to the base of my skull (through the vagus nerve) creating tension in the back of my skull,  pain in my eyes and a little in my ears, heightening my sight,  smell and hearing because the muscles involved using those senses are tense and alert the combination of which creates a sense of urgency.  Anxiety related behaviour when I don’t actually get anxious,  hence the title “Anxiety Disorder”.

My anger quite literally comes from anxiety,  infact most does in most people,  because of this reaction. 

I am angry,  but only because I’m so anxious,  I’m only anxious because my body makes me that way.  I have little to no control over my reactions to things.
Saying that I’m a lot better than I used to be.  Now it tends to be less anger, more childish strops.
And it’s all based in fear, not fear as an adult,  fear of  a child.  Not of people physically hurting me,  I think I subconsciously worked out so young so I could defend myself… But emotionally I’m so open. I seem unable to find a suitable balance between being a little careful with my heart and plain blocking people out. I will never deny myself the right to love,  when I feel like I’ve got nothing left that is what I have, love.  My love,  me loving other people.  That’s what life’s about. 

I’m angry I can’t love in anyway but naively with rose tinted spectacles and romance and the notion that nothing can get in the way of love. 
It can though,  can’t it? So much can get in the way of love.. A list as long as the abovementioned.

I want to love, so why don’t I openly? I’m unsure how words would be received and have obviously fallen into a pattern of avoidance regarding triggers.  Rejection, massive trigger. 

Yeah,  that would make sense.

Un-pause the game now, it’s boring

I remembered earlier this week that it is but a few months to the anniversaries.  It centres around the sexual abuse,  as the physical abuse was a constant so that’s all year round. 

It’s odd how humans seep into yearly cycles,  everyone does it, that’s a basic part of psychology right there.
Months that are worse than others,  and that if we recorded each year we would all realise the patterns are there. 
It might not even be a bad month,  but a manic one,  during which we are unusually incapable of dealing with stress,  or heartache or any of the other array of colourful human emotions.
Such is the human condition that we are cursed to forever break the cycle. 

I noticed parts of my cycle long ago although I failed to do the maths then. It was only after my return to London that gave me the stability to begin to work things out in my head. The entire time in Leeds I was running from it, ignoring it and denying the possibility of all that bullshit even existing. Needless to say I knew better.

It is this time of year I am forced to look back over the previous 12 months and assess my own progress with a fine tooth comb.  At first glance I am happy to say I am pleased. There has been many points I could have come out on top when I didn’t pull myself up,  but if you spend every day on top do you begin to lose the sensation of wonder of being up there,  looking at your very own Kingdom? I don’t plan on finding out.

(An “answers on a post card to…” scenario.)

At the moment,  despite conflict I am not confused.  I haven’t been so for a while now (I was dissociating although out of those hours I still possess clarity of thought) I simply don’t like what the clearance of the fog has revealed to me and I’m hesitant about setting particular balls rolling that desperately need to releasing into motion. 
Although I’m unsure of the reason for this,  I’m not confused,  merely processing all of the information.

Part of me just wants this process all over and done with,  the recovery,  it holds so much of my life up.  Then most of me understands the importance of doing this properly and well,  I have always been told how well I’m doing this,  that everything is right.

I just feel like a pinball sitting on my spring waiting to be shot back into the game,  and I’m still waiting.  I wait,  and wait,  still no one releases the spring.
I watch other pinballs being shot into life,  bumping into everything that doesn’t give you points,  when I’m so sure after so much waiting I will hit the necessary points with precision.

I feel like I’m waiting for an anti climax,  like I’m expecting a parade when I’m freed of the C-PTSD diagnosis.

I used to be in a cycle of symptom related behaviour,  I broke it,  it comes back purely because after waiting and preparing yourself for change and the change doesn’t come you just go back to normal. 
I fight it,  of course I do but I am bored if fighting it, I want to indulge it and antagonise it,  invoke it and cause chaos.
I’m waiting for the only change I couldn’t implement myself. I say waiting I have been on the case,  unfortunately they haven’t.

I guess at least I should be thankful that the help is available on the NHS and I am,  really I am.  However if someone had informed me 12 weeks of EMDR is likely to rid me of all PTSD related symptoms (obviously after recovery from that,  however long that might take) I would have simply found the money to pay for it myself. I always find a way,  and I definitely would have in this instance. Oh well,  little I can do about it now.  I know if I have to wait X (to be discussed) amount of time then that’s what I’m going to do.

See, I told you there was no confusion,  I just plain don’t like what I see… I guess I should change my point of view again then.

Reclaiming Obsession

A huge part of OCD is the inability to let go of the need for perfection,  not to seek it or be it for anyone,  just the fact nothing you do comes close,  it’s just not right.
This element held me back for years from moving forward in life. 
This affected my writing for years,  it was never good enough to show anyone,  or my art,  I wouldn’t cook for anyone,  and in fact a whole long list of things come to think of it. I had to let go of it and just let myself go with any creative flow. 

I can’t help but wonder if this stance has infact outdated itself and I should let myself return to my work never being good enough,  rather than not letting it matter either way. 
The problem is if it goes too far that way,  the actual real serious need to be perfect and I just stop showing my work all together.  Would this be such a bad idea?
I started the Facebook page and then the poetry blog to make myself let go,  to be able to redirect the intensity and have more control over it. I’ve done that now. Does this structure no longer serve purpose? Is it actually restricting my progress further?

I think I needed to spread myself thinly and really experiment with my creativity.  I can’t help but feel the time has come to refocus my efforts into something more controlled.
I need to ponder this more, however it actually kind of feels like the right thing to do. 

Maybe these proverbial doors have been open long enough.

Then comes the hiatus

I swear my brain is on some kind of hiatus,  having been mostly absent for about three days now. It’s not even like it feels like something else is going on up there,  it’s just mostly blank.

I’ve had two days of intrusive thoughts,  but I guess they’ve been more feeling than thought.  A physical urgency rather than a mental one. 

The lack of process isn’t necessarily a bad thing,  it’s giving me a bit of a break from fighting the worst of it,  I just feel stupid when I’m like this. Not embarrassed stupid, like vacant,  without thought… it’s frustrating.
This means loss of deeper thought and meaning,  inability to access the stance in which I see nothing but beauty,  lack of even remotely complex ideas or ambiguity in my writing and focused thought.  As in I possess focused thought,  although mostly I do not consider this a good thing.  Lack of concentration would be a negative point with the majority of people I’d imagine,  how ever this is my process,  it is merely organised chaos, the method with in my madness.
I have learned to operate this way to dodge intrusive thoughts,  and to snap myself out of dissociative behaviour.  Lack of fixed concentration enables my brain to let go and move on when mostly it/I/we would be otherwise unable to. 

I’m not entirely sure why this is (there’s always a reason,  annoyingly)  so for now I’m going to try to enjoy the slight peace and deal with the stupidity and missing the simplest parts of conversation and living. You know what they say though,  it’s the simple things in life that make it worth it.

Erratic thought, God speed!


I went out today,  all went well but the minute I sat down to try to relax the old intrusive thoughts began.  It’s so frustrating,  I’m tired and I need to relax.  I can’t tackle them at the moment because I’m just too tired and it will overtake me so there is little I can do other than distract my brain.

I haven’t really had the notion to write poetry in the last couple of days and every time I try to do anything art wise I’m just fucking it up.
There’s the option of the word but that would have to be a start a set from scratch and I’ve got several poets to credit so it’s not a matter of a standard structure that I can just adapt.  I will probably fuck that up too so right now it’s a matter of do what I can. 

The idea of having tasks to keep you busy with mental health problems is to have room for something mundane but everything that holds my attention has become more than just an activity.  The idea being it needs my utmost attention,  this has been impossible with such a minor attention span. 

I’m anxious all the time,  that has never changed however more recently I’m unable to spend the energy that contributes to frustration.
This is social energy.

It’s difficult because I struggle with most of my relationships anyway but recently it’s been really getting to me. 
Thing is around people I trigger easily,  which automatically sends into my brain the intrusive thoughts,  they don’t want to be my friend,  or what ever.
This bothers me not because I don’t necessarily need people to love me I just refuse to have people in my life that pretend to want to be my friend.  It’s my pride,  I’d honestly no friends that people who didn’t genuinely give a shit.

Now I’m not saying people don’t give a shit and don’t love me,  I believe they all do but it’s not that simple.  I want to be more available socially but I kinda think well I end up hermitting myself and it’s not fair to expect them to be ready to be social when I am.  Thing is,  is that I only really hermit when I think people haven’t got time for me so it doesn’t upset me and then I’m not available socially and so on,  and so forth.  The cycle continues.

I miss being social,  I miss going out and dancing,  drinking,  watching the stars after a night out,  working and all the other aspects of life I think a lot of people take for granted.

I kinda feel like it’s just the way it is now  I see people every couple of months and that’s all I’m gonna see them because it’s a routine we have fallen into.  I don’t want to demand time,  I think they are trying to be understanding with my time.  Or were while they were waiting for me,  when I was waiting for them just as much. 

I wish it didn’t bother me,  and it’s not upsetting me but it’s frustrating. I suppose a lot of life is at the moment.


Ugh,  I wrote loads on here about something bothering me beyond comprehension last Summer,  through to December and probably again since.
Well, the thing never went away but it certainly became more manageable.

It’s bothering me again. For the sane reasons, again I cannot divulge these factors as some things you just can’t share with possible onlookers.

Well,  thing is I’m starting to get that guilt back.  This is something I can’t be honest about with people involved and it does my head in.  These days if there’s something I say it,  quite often no matter what I anticipate the reaction to be.  This time it could seriously hurt people I care about,  and I just can’t do that. 

I’m pretty sure it’s contributing to my lack of sleep.  This is partially why I make a point of being honest with people,  not being honest actually makes me ill because I’m so set mentally on the importance of it in life.
Bullshit causes more stress than its worth and more hurt than I would want to inflict on anyone.

Yet here I am.

I clung to this last year and it affected my every move,  I had to learn to let go so it stopped but I just can’t abide denial, least of all my own.  Even though it’s not denial, I’m fully aware of the situation…   that’s it isn’t it though? If I could it wouldn’t matter, but I can’t.
I watched mum living like this for too long.  I remember it being one of my first perceptions,  how often I caught her lying in situations she believed she was being kind in. 
I just think how can you be yourself if you regularly lie? Witnessing that makes you doubt people.  It’s what has been making me doubt myself. 

When ever I think about it I feel stuck between a rock and a hard place and I just want to end the possibility of me hurting anyone. This was never going to be a situation people don’t get hurt in though and well I need to decide firmly what happens next.
That’s no more middle ground.

The next few weeks and months could certainly be stormy ones,  I’ll have to make sure I hold on tight.

Further thought

As I’m dissociating something must be triggering me. I’m actively keeping myself present and mindful. My brain is struggling with keeping me put consciously.

Admittedly I’m unable to observe exactly what’s going on in my head,  I’m loathe to meditate.  Yes this helps with usual points but actually it encourages dissociation in me personally and doesn’t always clear my mind,  but push me further out of it. 
I’m just trying to relax and have a vent in what ever way is required but the only thought prominent is the old S.I and that’s not really anything to process,  as there is literally nothing I can do about that.  Meds always dulled it,  but I need to learn to manage it all again,  don’t I? I keep forgetting that… back to basics.

It just fucking frustrates me,  and I can’t help but still get angry at times about the whole recovery bullshit.  There’s no way I would change my actions,  I’m firm on not allowing myself regret because that is something I honestly don’t really possess regarding most actions in my life.  Not because there’s nothing that hasn’t worked out,  but because sometimes you just have to keep faith no matter how blind it may feel,  or how much you think you’re lying to yourself.  What else is there?

Faith isn’t just about religion,  every human needs someone or something to retain faith in.  (Isn’t that the beauty of humanity though? This is how we survive.)

The thing is,  that’s what I’m struggling with recently.  I think a mix of faith in myself and faith in the outcome of things.  Logically (emotionally,  otherwise, whatever) how can you retain faith in the latter,  alas faith has little to do with logic. Unfortunately this is what I’m having to base thoughts on pretty much completely because my imagination is the only other answer. There is no middle ground.

So I must waver between the two,  considering one,  then the other,  then one,  then the other and reach a conclusion based upon the two. 
My brain is trying to do this for most of the day,  so when it is in this state some activities push me further.  Other times it’s lack of activity,  it really does depend on a ridiculous amount of contributing factors,  all of which you must consider,  each time something tips,  slips or rips… Right?

I dunno,  I’ve assessed every corner of my mind on nearly every level possible through a whole variety of mediums.. some of it still confuses the shit out of me.

Writing involves creativity,  using the imagination,  yet the physical act of typing or writing keeps me here.
Creating art also involves creativity and at times mundane activities not utilising my brain send me completely into my head.  Yet other times the mundane activity can be a time when my brain relaxes and I am totally present. 
See the problem..?

It’s like it continually evolves,  but that just isn’t the case,  it’s purely contributing factors,  there are just so many.  If you don’t consider them all how can you possibly reach even a fundamental assumption on which to base your approach …?

Oh well,  I guess it’s just back to the drawing board. 

Dissociation Association

In psychology and psychiatry, a perceived detachment of the mind from the emotional state or even from the body. Dissociation is characterized by a sense of the world as a dreamlike or unreal place and may be accompanied by poor memory of specific events.”

I’ve realised I have been dissociating on a daily basis,  for at least three or four hours.  This is not good,  but it’s good that I’ve realised,  time to go back to basics.

Problem being I have got some quite important bits to be done with in the next few weeks and it can take me that time to progress back to being here more often than not. It needs to be done though, this is always ultimate priority,  management and order of the disorder.

I reckon if I can retain the focus and energy I can swing shit back round mostly by the end of the week,  it just needs my total attention,  ensuring among keeping my head balanced,  I keep my body balanced also.

Man,  I can’t take my eye off the ball for even a day at the moment and it’s a bit exhausting… I just wanna crack on with therapy now.

Always waiting… it’s so tedious, I need action.