It was snowing again this morning when I got up and I decided to take Lydia out straight away, in case it settled and the roads became impassable.
I put two layers of gloves on, a thermal pair underneath a fingerless pair, and my hands felt significantly less cold than they had the day before.
Lydia wore her raincoat again and we had a short walk in a field that I call ‘Quiet Field’ because I used to take her to it regularly when I needed somewhere that was fairly guaranteed to be away from the sight of other dogs.
The snow was still coming down and I was conscious of not wanting to be stuck on a hill on the way home.
I needn’t have worried as the snow stopped as we left the field and the day brightened up from there.
Lydia and I had another walk in the afternoon to make up for our shorter than usual one in the morning.
Taking on board some learning from last night’s Buddhist group meeting, I started to read again a book that I previously read some time ago: ‘How to Transform Your Life’ by Venerable Geshe Kelsang Gyatso Rinpoche.
I also made some notes, to help with recall, and it felt good to be able to read again, as I haven’t been able to for a while.
So, all in all it’s been a good Thursday, rounded off with a Chinese takeaway – delivered – for me and Trev.
I also bought some new treats for Lydia to try, doing a bit of shopping on my way to a yoga class.
Just relaxing in front of the telly now. And tomorrow is another day.
Waking this morning at around 4.20am, I get up to make a cup of tea. While waiting for the kettle to boil I snack on a few liquorice allsorts and some gummy sweets that were in the cupboard.
Back to bed, I must have dozed off for a few more hours before getting up, making another cup of tea, meditating for a short while and then deciding to take Lydia for a walk.
As I opened my eyes from the meditation, glancing towards the window I saw snow coming down.
I quickly got myself and Lydia ready to go out for a walk, in case the snow started to settle and the roads became impassable.
This morning, I insisted that Lydia had her raincoat on over her harness. She made it clear she wasn’t keen but it was so cold and the raincoat is light, and an easy fit for her. She was fine after being tempted into with a few treats.
The snow didn’t last, turning to icy rain, and it was bitterly cold. Despite her thick fur and hardy nature, I think Lydia may have been glad of her extra layer. I know I was.
Even so, and despite gloves, my hands got so cold that I can still feel them tingling, even now, over eight hours later. Still, we had a decent walk, got home and warmed up.
Later I started to get organised for a craft fair that I’m taking some of my pots to on Saturday: Boothtown & Southowram Methodist Church Christmas Fayre, near Halifax.
It will be an early start but I’ve got it planned out so that I’ll take Lydia out early and, with the car pre-packed, set off in good time to get there in good time to be able to set up my table ready for the 11am start.
Some pot pourri that I’d ordered arrived today so I made up a couple of my bowls with some clear wrap and bows: one to donate to the church raffle and one to display and hopefully sell.
I’ve got a little bit more preparation to do before Saturday, but its mostly sorted and planned now so I can start to relax into this evening, with Trev making tea and then I’m going out to a meeting of the Buddhist group.
The theme is still ‘concentration’. I do think I am starting to be able to concentrate more. I’m hoping that more sleep as well as more meditation will help.
It seems fitting to start this latest cycle of writing on a Mental Health Monday. So, it was a walk with Lydia this morning, yoga and Qigong this afternoon.
Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve been busy with work on the house, doing some decorating, and I’m now starting on a phase of going round, room by room, clearing, cleaning, sorting.
Just as well then, that I’ve given myself a recharge boost with a weekend at the Buddhist Centre, with teachings and meditation sessions included as part of the course. I’ve also arranged to volunteer at the Centre one afternoon a week, which is an opportunity to put some skills and experience to good use, learn new things and meet new people.
For now, then, I’ve got a good complement of different activities and interests during the week, without being too structured or rigid and with plenty of time to rest or do other things as they arise. I know I’ll want and need to review what I do at some point in the future as I look for new challenges and further growth, but I’ve got what I hope is a reasonable balance for the time being.
I continue to reflect on how fortunate I am to have my health, fitness and circumstances to be able to do what I do.
Thankfully, also, Lydia is fit and healthy too.
We’ll keep walking and working together and I’ll keep writing. They’re all good things to do.
The other day I went through a box full of pieces that I’ve written in the past, and picked out seven items: poems, essays, ramblings. These are the titles:
Stirring abroad, without … within …
Bicycle pumps & bananas
Memories of a difficult day
Memories of a distinctly different day to the one I had yesterday
Surfing the Turf
Ms. Carriage
Written on the train to London some time in May
I also picked out a couple of pieces that I hadn’t written: one about learning and the other about ‘Being Human’.
I think the most important thing that I’ve learned about being human is to be able to accept that I get things wrong because I’m human, and for no other reason.
In any case, ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ in my experience aren’t always clearly defined, particularly since our lives are always unfolding, never fixed or final. We have expectations based on concepts of ‘normal’ but when we can drop those then all sorts of other possibilities arise.
There was a time when I thought that if I could do nothing else other than make sure that my cat – Bertie – had a good life, then that was enough. Who’s to say that it wasn’t?
I might publish ‘Bicycle pumps & bananas’ eventually but, for now, here’s …
Surfing the Turf
I’d like to roll myself In earth-warmed turf Like a bug in a rug Snug Safe from harm
The grass would tickle My nose and toes The worms would squirm Warm and Alive
I’d have to put an elastic band Around the roll of turf To stop it unfolding Unfurling Exposing Me
But if it did I’d need to find A sleeping bag To ease my mind
And then I would If I could Sit by the river Forever watching In awe and wonder At the world Flowing By
One aspect of depression that is a constant struggle is finding something – anything – to build up my self-esteem. To a certain extent I’ve learnt to live with it, knowing that the worst moments pass if I rest up and tune in to parts of my brain that I’ve trained, using positive processes such as meditation, and affirmations: “I choose to be peaceful and calm; everything is unfolding as it should.”
I’ve identified my own truths and ‘root causes’ of past problems, and arrived at a point – in a very long and arduous journey – where I felt I didn’t need to have any aspects of these verified or vindicated by any one or any thing. However, I have found it helpful recently to have discovered the work of Imi Lo. I went through her book – Emotional Sensitivity and Intensity: how to manage intense emotions as a highly sensitive person (John Murray Learning, 2018) – highlighting many passages that I felt applied directly to me. I urge anyone who has been deemed ‘over-sensitive’ and felt alienated one way or another as a result, to read and take hope from this book.
The author states in a key point (p.45):
We are not here to dismiss the validity of all mental health diagnoses, or the importance of appropriate treatment in the case of severe psychological trauma. But it is important to examine the root of your suffering: often, it may be a reflection of your natural tendencies, and a result of being misunderstood, rather than as a sign of defectiveness. We must be extra cautious to not reinforce any restrictive categories, diagnoses and stigma around emotional intensity.
In the final chapter of her book, Imi Lo identifies possibilities for tapping into our creative potential.
It’s possible to be creative in many ways – not just through the arts. I’ve been as creative as I could be at different stages in my life and through many different types of work. However, having arrived at the point when I’m now retired, giving me a new-found freedom that I relish, I’m loving being able to re-immerse myself in solving problems associated with art and design, construction and concepts.
A significant difference that I’ve noticed between how I feel about work that I produce now, compared with work that I produced when I was younger, is that now I can feel a sense of satisfaction about having produced it. I can ‘own it’, take pride in it, see it for what it is in the context of my life; a life that I’m glad to have.
My self-esteem still falls by the wayside sometimes, but – generally speaking – I’m in a much better place than I’ve ever been. It takes a bit of getting used to, but I’m determined to make the most of it, knowing that I am – after all ‘gifted’ rather than the waste of space I often felt my self to be.
I woke this morning feeling warm and rested, snug and toasty in bed, having slept for a good few hours. The symptoms of my cold are lingering, but I’m confident that I’ve past the point when it could have turned into a cough and possible chest infection.
After our morning walk and with Lydia suitably breakfasted, I make a pan of porridge for me and Trev, enjoying mine lightly salted and finished with brown sugar and some evaporated milk. I set aside a little of the unsweetened porridge for Lydia, so that she can have it as a bit of an extra with her tea. She has very few carbs in her diet generally, and I’m sure she’ll enjoy it for a change.
After going back to bed and resting for a while, I get up and resolve to make further inroads into clearing the garage. It does look a bit daunting when I open the door, but I make a start, and bit by bit make some progress. This includes demolishing a cupboard with help from my Dad’s old lump hammer that was handily nearby. The cupboard had done sterling work for me for many years, first in my old house and then as garage storage in this one. The shelves were starting to collapse and it was time for it to go, so I take it to the tip along with some other things that I know I am no longer going to need. After a bit of sweeping and reorganising, the garage now looks in reasonable order, with a few things lined up for me to take to a charity shop on Monday.
The physical effort was good for me and I’m lucky to be strong and fit enough to lift and carry the way I do at my age. I simply take my time, do things at my own pace, and rest when I need to.
So, this afternoon I have rested, leaving me with nothing much more to do this evening than to feed Lydia – she seems quite happy to wait for her tea at the moment – and write this blog. I took some chilli out of the freezer earlier, so Trev and I can have that with some rice when we are ready.
‘Change’ continues to be theme of the Buddhist class teachings at the moment – tonight will be week 3 of a 5-week course.
There’s a lot of internal and external change going on for me at the moment.
Historically, I’ve worked through a lot of change, in different ways, but more is on it’s way, rising from deep within and arising from outside sources.
This is leading me to feel a resurgence of anxiety that I had a massive bout of a while back, earlier in the year. Then, I was waking with fear in my gut, leading to nausea and retching. The retching isn’t so bad just now, I think largely because of a lot of the work I’ve been doing to keep myself calm, through meditation, yoga, Qigong, walking, working with clay. Even so, I’m having to work really hard today to achieve a sense of calm, and I can’t concentrate for very long at all. So, I’ve chosen to rest into it, not push myself, and to focus on bringing my awareness to the absence of any immediate threats. The fear that I’m feeling is in my mind, to do with past experiences and the unknowns of the future. But I’m OK today. That’s what I tell myself and keep telling myself. I’m OK today.
Lydia showed signs of fear this morning when we saw a dog in the distance. The other dog – Elkie – is one we’ve seen before and her owner is sensitive to our needs. He makes sure his dog doesn’t get too close to Lydia while I make sure that I keep the distance from our side too. I do what I can to help and talk her through the experience in what I hope is a reassuring way. She still growls, snarls, barks and tries to lunge, but I hold her on a short lead while stroking her head and ears. We turn to walk in the opposite direction, she has a good shake, and I start using the “heel” command combined with “Yes” and treats to mark and reward. It isn’t long before she’s settled down fairly soon to a steady pace and we resume our walk. I tell her how well she’s done and even though I don’t think she understands this, I hope she picks up the praise from my tone of voice at least. She gets more “good girl” treats as we’re going along. I also repeatedly tell her that we’re OK, that she’s OK, that we’re all OK.
We’ve both still got a long way to go to work through our fears, and all we can do is keep trying, following the guidance we’ve been given, learning, reflecting reviewing, and repeating as and when needed, for as long as it takes.
Starting this latest 28-day cycle of writing into life on a Mental Health Monday, I have so far meditated and had a walk with Lydia.
I collected her from the boarding kennels this morning where she has been staying for a couple of nights. I had a night out in town with two friends on Saturday and a duvet day on Sunday.
Cocktails and a Thai curry in good company made a welcome change and Lydia had a change of environment as well. We all need it sometimes.
I’m booked into yoga this afternoon, followed by a Qigong class.
I’m struggling with low mood and low energy levels. For now, I don’t think there is anything I can do other than what I am doing. There are no ‘quick fixes’ so I approach the situation as positively as possible, keeping a focus on health and wellbeing and remembering to be glad that I am so fortunate to have my health and a reasonable level of fitness; not something to be taken for granted.
The day is mild, with blue sky and sunshine, albeit damp from the weekend’s rain.
Lydia has had her second breakfast – they’d fed her before I picked her up from the kennels this morning but she still demanded – and got – her breakfast ball with her usual supply. We all need a bit of a ‘bonus ball’ sometimes. She’s now outside enjoying being back in her domain.
Over the last couple of weeks, while I’ve had a writing ‘holiday’, I’ve been bringing my focus closer to my own domain: my home; our home. Home isn’t something to be taken for granted either. I’ve always been fortunate to have one, one way or another.
Over the next few months – through the winter – I’m going to concentrate on giving care and attention to the edges and corners in our home – the bits that often get missed with a general sweep and ‘hoover’ round. I’ve never been the best at spring cleaning so I’m going to do it over the winter instead. Then, when spring comes, I’ll be free to do other things instead. That’s my plan; that’s what I’ll do. It may not be the most exciting plan on the planet, but it’s mine.
Paperback versions of my two latest books are now available on Amazon:
Rules, Rhymes, Recovery, Recipe, Random: writing into life
With no Qigong this afternoon, it’s the woodland walk for Lydia and me this morning, then yoga. Lydia often partakes in this remotely, being particularly good at ‘downward facing dog’!
The yoga teacher introduced a new exercise aid to the class: conkers. They formed a focus for our meditation and visualisation and I must say I enjoyed the experience of familiarisation with the seed of the chestnut tree. It was somehow comforting and inspiring at the same time.
As I now complete this latest 28-day cycle of writing, I reflect on how far I’ve come, not just since I started writing this blog in 28-day cycles a few months ago, but since I started my overall journey of recovery over fifty years ago, when I was still very young.
I didn’t know it at the time, but it essentially started in my teens, when I decided that I needed more than physical food in my life.
That may sound ungrateful as I know there are many people in the world who have less food than they need to survive. But my needs for nourishment were psychological, emotional and spiritual. They were very real for me and presented in the forms of social anxiety, depression, body dysmorphia and an eating disorder. That’s a lot for any teen to have to deal with and I hope that in writing about my experiences, it may help others to not have to go through the same.
It’s taken me a long time to work out what I needed to work out, to find pieces that I didn’t have reference points for. How could I know what I’d lost when I had no memory of having it in the first place?
For whatever reason – probably survival – my emotional brain closed down, and it’s taken me a lifetime to find ways of opening it up again. I’m still working on it, with Lydia’s help and a lot of help and support from a lot of other people along the way.
The most significant latest step for me is on the path presented by the Buddhist faith. It helps me to make sense of a lot of things, accept what I can’t change, and do my best to make the most of each day as it comes, recognising the value of what I have when for so long I was focused on what I didn’t have. Grief doesn’t go away, but we can grow to encompass a wider experience of life around it. That’s what I’ve been doing my best to do.
As I now take a couple of weeks break from writing a new daily blog, I’ll continue with republishing previous posts, looking back a bit before again moving on.
The paperback versions of my two latest books – ‘Rules, Rhymes, Recovery, Recipe, Random: Glad About Life’ and ‘A Woman, a Dog and a Blog: Writing into Life’ will shortly be available on Amazon, along with the Kindle and Kindle Unlimited editions:
‘Rules, Rhymes, Recovery, Random: Glad About Life’ brings together over 60 blog posts, from March 2020 through to September 2024.
It offers personal insights into the mental health recovery journey, recognising that there are no easy answers or quick fix solutions to complex problems but demonstrating that growth is possible through whatever difficulties life presents.
‘A Woman, a Dog & a Blog: Writing into Life’ presents a summary of my own backstory and that of my dog, Lydia. We had both experienced trauma before we met and, though I effectively rescued and adopted her, in many ways she has also rescued and adopted me.
We continue our journey together, day by day, step by step. Volume I of this book presents the first cycle of me writing a post a day for 28 days, at a time when the depression I had experienced most of my adult life had started to lift, only to reveal an underlying and extreme – at the time – sense of anxiety. Having lost everything that I’d worked for in the past, due to a severe breakdown in my thirties, I was absolutely petrified that history was going to repeat itself and that I would lose everything again, including Lydia. I was determined that wouldn’t happen and I drew on every aspect of resourcefulness and resilience I’d built up, and all the support mechanisms I could muster, to make sure that it didn’t. And it hasn’t.
Volume II presents the next 28 days of continuing to work with – and write about – positives in whatever way that I can. Affirmations, exercises, working with clay, working with words, walking, reflecting, resting, meditating – they’re all in there as I find my own way through and I hope it may help others find their way too.
After yesterday’s sensation of clarity and light emerging, today brings an inner pull into heavy and dark.
Recognising this as part of a process is important. The dark thoughts are the deluded thoughts; the process of moving from dark to light takes time and effort; practice, patience and persistence.
Following an early visit with Lydia to Vicky the groomer and then a walk, after breakfast – kindly cooked for me by Trev in the form of porridge and a cup of fresh coffee – I went back to bed for a few hours. Lydia was also happy to rest.
It’s unusual for me, these days, to do this. I do generally need to go to bed early and get up late when I can, but this morning it’s fair to say that I felt a pull into dark at a deep level and decided to rest. I have enough positive activity built into my week generally to be able to give in to that inward pull occasionally, and today I needed to just be with it.
Yesterday I missed both yoga and Qigong as I had to get my car fixed. I think this may have played no small part in how I feel today. However, after a couple of hours resting, I get up, brush my hair, put on some make up, give Lydia some fuss, open the back door so that she can enjoy the fresh air, and start writing.
Writing is helping me to process, just like other things are. I’m visiting M in her care home this afternoon and we should be able to go outside into the garden as we usually do on a fine day. I enjoy reading to her; short stories from a magazine. She usually dozes off when I do, which I take as no reflection on my reading style, just a sign that she is relaxed and comfortable in my company. I hope so.
Before heading out I remember to meditate. I don’t have to sit cross-legged – thank goodness, because I couldn’t – but adopt a comfortable seated upright posture and focus on my breath. Fresh air coming through the back door helps.
Glad About 
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