Mental ill health is a terrible thing and I am glad that I can talk and write about the three nervous breakdowns that I had since suffering Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) in 1998. Maybe, just maybe some of the things that I have previously written about in this Blog along with this entry might help others to come to terms with how they feel:
I suppose that there are those out there who will incorrectly contend that there can’t be much wrong with him if he can write about that ‘stuff’. But that’s the point, the writing and the model making and the swimming and the art work and the reading and the ancestry researching and the occasional DIY are simply multiple techniques to avoid facing the demons.
These numerous ‘deflection from reality’ activities include this Blog. They are the means of deflecting thoughts away from the occurrences and the outcomes and the dark days. And they can be dark as the last week has shown when I realised the descent and wifey commented upon it to others. The smiley face came back yesterday evening and I am looking forward to a weekend of de-stressing after what has been yet another stressful time for me. The thing is, what you find stressful doesn’t necessarily correlate to what I find stressful. For example; I hate opening envelopes and accepting or making telephone calls. It is a real fear and my palms become sweaty as I begin each time to experience flight behaviour. Now if you have never experience mental ill health let alone wide awake daytime flashbacks, then you probably cannot comprehend what I am writing about. In my world what to you is normal is abnormal, and some abnormal things are quite normal.
I used to be a compulsive obsessive. Thankfully my former employer paid for high end counselling when I had my third breakdown and the counsellor explained and helped me with techniques to suppress that behaviour. But this is also an important point, just because you don’t see it, doesn’t mean it’s not there. Because folks it’s only suppressed, i.e. just below the surface and ready to strike at any time that I drop my guard.
You might be thinking; “oh why is he writing about this today?” Well the truth is mental ill health, unlike a broken leg or broken arm does not carry the outward signs of a plaster cast. So when there are gaps in the blog, and we know that statistically there are gaps and this is why it is called “The Weekender” and not “The daily”, you can rest assured that all is ok, but maybe I am doing one of the other numerous deflection things or having some darker moments.
One of the deflection activities of course as mentioned on numerous occasions is the swimming. This particular activity has triple purpose in that it is good for the mental health, good for the physical health, and by attending Monday to Friday and at 0730 I am able to bring about weekly structure and focus to something that is otherwise an absent void since I ceased working over two years ago. Those that think that I should be working need not worry as society does not support me and I simply struggle along on my Occupational Pension. I paid my taxes for 32 years and I don’t get a handout. Not anything, nought, nothing, zilch, zero, nil.
Although my government funded handouts are nil, my arithmetic is still good. This is mainly because of the swimming. You see some people will argue that the swimming is bad for mental health because while you are trawling up and down the pool you are also thinking and of course they also believe that ill people only think of bad things. Well that’s not the case for me, as the only thinking that I am capable of doing when swimming is to concentrate on my stroke, remember when to breath, remember how to breath, occasionally think about using my legs, and repeat counting. One, one, one , one; means that I remember when I turn around that I have just completed one length. As is thirty four, thirty four, thirty four, thirty four. You see as a Compulsive Obsessive I need to know how many lengths that I am doing each time. Although, with grateful thanks to the counsellor I no longer maliciously record these lengths in a book each day. For clarity the Compulsive Obsessive is not about swimming or counting and is far more complex and surreal than I would want to mention here today. Then again when you think about it and hone in on the detail, you will recognise that the counting continuously during each length, the thinking about the stroke, thinking about when and how to breath and the other patterns that occur are in many ways part of the deflection techniques. I.e. by doing all of that which I do, I’m not thinking of the things that hurt. So there’s the deflecting the stuff that needs deflecting, and there’s also deflecting when deflecting.
The strange thing is, when I started swimming I used to have constant panic attacks. Hence the need to think about when and how to breath otherwise it’s hey presto and some young attendant in the water to assist yours truly. I wonder if there is an underlying association with water, as the majority of my wide awake flashbacks have occurred when I’m in the shower. Mmmm, it’s a strange world. Bring on the weekend and coffee in Cafe Nero, a chance to say hello to my friends in Cardiff and some time with the family.
Custom Search
