ON SHAKY GROUND

This has been the best day since the fall. I think I know why I have been so shaky since it happened 3 weeks. Once again I cheated death. It was totally different than I thought.I wasn't completely floored until the person who ended helping me told me what I had asked her to do. I had lost a chunk of time. I hit my head several times, really hard. Yet I am still here. Always my damn head. My dads favourite spot. As a boy I also feel about 15ft str8 onto it, was unconscious, spent the night in hospital.

I wasn't completely floored until the person who ended helping me told me what I had asked her to do.The fall also forced me to see how vulnerable I was and I couldn't carry on as if nothing were wrong with me. I look back over the last 3 years of showing. killing myself with pain, putting myself and others at risk. Was I being stoic? Brave? No. I was still showing my dad that I was not the weak sissy he always said I was that he had no reason to be ashamed of me. I saying look dad, despite the agony and fatigue I am fighting it. I will not become dependent and disabled. I. have had quite enough of his fucking shit. He can have it back. Why on earth would I want to please that monster? A Big Man who beat on very young children. Who was cruel, sadistic, and just plain nasty. And a great liar and actor too.

It wasn't just that old tape though feeding what I was doing. I felt it was grossly unfair that I should survive mentally, emotionally and physically only to find I was becoming disabled. No way! This is NOT going to happen. But now? I accept it. I am defeated. In a good way. I just let it all go. I can deal with this too. This too is not my fault. Half a dozen Drs have said that my ailments are a direct result of the abuse. I suppose living for so long with such fear and torment and physical pain from violence and sexual abuse outside the home is bound to take it's toll. The evidence is all there.

I don't understand this. I still think it is grossly unfair. But so is a child being born to starve to death grossly unfair. So is the slaughter of 8000 muslim men and boys 20 years ago by Xians in Bosnia. The Holocaust. One can go and complain it is all so unfair.

Or one can find out one's purpose now. Look for the good in it all. The fall was definitely a demarcation line for me. The end of an era and the beginning of new one about which I know nothing. I seem to being pushed to write and write and write. I am sick to death of that suggestion. So I write and write and write. A book? Why? So I can placed among all the other abuse stories that now have their section in the book shops. I find that incredibly distasteful and I now doubt the voracity of those stories. They are a big money industry. Yes, I think some readers may be helped. I also think there are those that get their kicks from being voyeurs to our pain and suffering and so it is know these stories sell. I don't want to be part of that. I think I reach far more people right here on the 'net. Much more immediate. And much honest too. No editor. No one to say 'change this' 'change that' make it more 'dramatic. 'No, embellishing is not lying.'

DISABLED SOULS

  oh my! I knew a dr who had spine surgery and she told me to never allow that. I have also known others have it who say the same thing. Only one I know had aand she doesn't regret it BUT with her it was have it or not be able to walk. For her, she can walk, but like me is in constant pain.

At the risk of sounding self-pitying, I really don't understand why people don't understand that being in 24/7 IS disabling. It means one is disabled. I am not able to live a normal life. Disability doesn't just cover para or quadriplegics or the mentally affected. Frequently not being able to dress myself, frequently unable to get out of bed unaided, always unable to walk unaided, and mostly in a wheelchair for any distance more than in my house. In my house I tend to okay because I usee furniture and walls to balance myself. Plus if you are visiting, then I ma okay that day so to you, unless you really know me, I won't appear to be what most term disabled. This govt have made is so we are the targets of resentment and bitterness from others now.

 I feel guilty on my good days. Two weeks ago when i seized completely and could barely move and had to ask for outside help to get my meds for me, I actually felt PLEASED! Pleased because I was really suffering and this showed just how disabled I am. That is stupid! On my good days I feel guilty. I feel I am not earning my disability!

How many people go to the pool in their pj's? I do because if I get undressed to get dressed, to only get undressed and dressed again, I wouldn't be able to swim!

I feel guilty doing what i enjoy-dog shows. Never mind the 2.5hrs I need before I can leave my home, never mind the copious amount of morphine I need, never mind the two days recovery I need, with the first spent in agony, pills don't help much on that day. Do i complain. NO! I enjoy the show so i pay the price. That price though alos includes nasty minded people being extremely
 unkind which i did not even think about because that is not how my mind works and despite my background I am still shocked by the mean spiritedness of some and by my own naivety. 


During this cold weather, I am BORED! I went out today with John. We went into a supermarket type shop. I was very stiff by the time we got back to the car, not because I walked, but because it was cold. I get cold very quickly and cold leads to pain and stiffness and the inability to move much at all, thus more cold. Still, I went to Panini's with John, dragging out as much time as I could OUT of my house. Even with all I can do indoors, the dogs, music, tv, dvd, the iMac, FB, I still need to get out! 

How anyone in their right mind can think i am able I have no idea. How normal is it to take 2hr43mins to get up and shower and dress and ready to go out?  On a good day? (we had to time it for the tests).
Or is it I am too happy to be disabled? Too upbeat? Too independent. I don't ask for help at shows? Unless I fall over then I have no choice. Perhaps people forget about the times I fall over. Both in the ring and out. 

yes, I do handle all this well and no one likes a moaner but then one gets accused of being a fraud, a liar precisely ebcause of having the attitude that is good! 

What is the point of moaning and cry and ranting? It won't make me well.You know what i did when i was first diagnosed properly and knew I was fucked with no chance of getting better? I got in my car and DROVE to OSLO, NORWAY! It was November. It almost killed me and I was in agony most of the time and I was only fit enough to walk up and down, once, King whatever his name is street. But I DID it and knew I would never be able to again. And here I am 8 years later and I no i can't drive to Norway again. The IMPORTANT thing is that I drove to Oslo, Noway. I got see Norway, a little. I think that is amazing even if others see it as proof I am fit!

So i still say f*ck you to those who would do me down. i refuse to be miserable. I WILL wring every last ounce of joy out of my life. 

I may have severe problems with my body and be limited by it but YOU have severe problems of another sort and they have crippled your soul.

CHRISTIAN BISEXUAL AGENDA

It was already too hot for dog walking when I took John to the station at 7.50am Not that I am in a being able to walk dogs phase. Just pointing out the heat here. We get high humidity too. Pleased to say the anti-inflammatories are doing their job well tho sleep is being evasive.

Have you ever wondered why the devout pray for the physical survival of others? Car crash, gun, cancer victims. Whatever the crisis, the prayer is always survival. I thought the idea was to be with God in Heaven? Funny how when a preacher/vicar/priest is diagnosed with a life threatening disease they are not congratulated at their soon to be in Heaven status but prayed for fervently that they may stay and suffer more. Weird or what?

I had no idea there were so many bi-sexuals about. According to many people of faith, humans are naturally bi-sexual. Oh, they don't actually come out as bi-sexual. It is clear though that bi-sexual they are. You see, if being homosexual is a choice then so is being heterosexual. If we are free to make that choice we must be equally attracted to both sexes. I don't agree at all and I wish the Xian bi-sexuals would stop forcing their bi-sexual agenda upon the rest of us. They need to stop insisting we are all bi-sexual. We are not and never will be. Some people are. Most are not. Those of us who are not bi-sexual don't have a choice. We are either heterosexual or homosexual. We must put an end to the Christian Bi-sexual Agenda. Stop them recruiting our children. Keep them out of our schools. We must stand up for what is right. I am not a bigot. I just don't approve of their lifestyle choice and I do no want them forcing their agenda upon me and I want to be free to say they are wrong without being labelled a bigot.

There are three half naked men on my driveway right now. No, this is not a script for a porno nor am I dreaming. Ernie and sons are here to pave over the front with that nice brickwork. Not only will it look good and save us having to bow the lawn to trim bushes, it will also mean parking for twi more cars if we have visitors. As I write, I can smell the fumes from their digger. I shall go and close the window I think.

RICH TWATS

The last week of July and summer has arrived. Thankfully the daily rain for months has stopped. The temperature has risen sharply. 30c today. The first day of heat, Sunday, I awake in pain and swollen-hands and ankles-so knew I had to start the anti-inflammatories. In my case, this is bog standard aspirin. Everything else I have tried makes me feel ill. I take gabapentin, tramadol, paracetamol and morphine daily but none of them deal with inflammation.

The downstairs and stairs and landing are all finished. We have the three bedrooms left to do. They will be done one at a time, with the carpeting done last. The drive is being done this week, starting tomorrow.  The house is having it's walls and attic stuffed on Thursday.  

This whole renovation thing has been very good. I am so glad we have been able to do it. Especially the bathroom being changed to a shower room. This allows me to wash at home instead of the pool where I have showered for years now.

Much to my surprise it has also been very stressful. I was not prepared for that. Needless to say my balance problems became much worse, my gut went off the deep end, and pain increased. John became concerned when I became hyper, according to him, that I might slip into manic mode. I have not had a manic episode for years now. It didn't happen and I don't think it will anymore. I can understand him worrying about it though.

The dogs too have been stressed by all the changes. They have been into boarding 4 times now and their house is completely different too. This last week it took it's toll. They returned home and were clearly out of sorts. none ate for a couple of days. Only today, a week after their return, are they back to normal. Poor things.

I have missed all dog shows since WELKS now. I am unlikely to make LEEDS on Friday. We hope we will be at SELAS the first Sunday in August. A breed club championship show.

Our wedding took place without any problems at all. It was the happiest day of my life. I can now understand why so many people say that. Ours was different I suppose in that we married on our 31st anniversary. We know each other quite well already!

Then the day after our wedding we went to Frankfurt for a week. It was a very good trip. It was the first time I have stayed in a 5* hotel. i normally book 3 or 4*. John is used to 5* thru work. Fortunately for me as he dealt with the tipping stuff and all that. It makes me so uncomfortable. 

We stayed in the Jumeirah. It was very nice. The service was excellent. We did not have to worry about anything. We both wish to return.

Frankfurt itself was excellent too. Despite our resolution to make this more a cultural visit-doing galleries and museums etc-it ended up being just a shopping trip! We were slap bang in the middle of the best shopping area!

Clearly, I discovered, there are some rich idiots about. They were QUEING to be let into Louis Vuitton and a couple of other such shops. Only a couple in at a time, security guards baring the doors and making sure people waited until invited to enter! WTF? How the hell did these idiots become convinced that this was super cool and gave them status? It's a fucking shop!!!! They should be falling over themselves to SERVE.  What twats! I was gobsmacked. Where was their dignity?

TALL POPPIES

I have always known that being open about my past leaves me vulnerable to sick and cruel or just plain ignorant people. I have had my share of evil comments here and I even had a stalker for a while. I handled them fine.

Just very recently, I wrote a short version of my past in response to something that warranted the explanation I gave. There was no response part from one brief comment. No one else commented until a woman did and all she could do was criticise my paragraphs! She said other things, all dismissive. 

I cannot tell you how shaming it is to bare yourself like that only to have that sort of comment back. This type of ignorant cruelty still enrages me and I have realised that if I feel rage then I have been shamed first.

How can anyone read such a story and ignore it or criticise it in anyway? Why is their response not one of compassion and horror? I don't know and I guess I have always had a problem with people like this. What sort of person can only criticise a person who is brain damaged, has serious body and pain issues, who has been able to communicate anyway, and who still WANTS to?  I don't know about you, I find that really callous and sick. This isn't about agreeing with me or not saying you don't. It is about not shaming me just because I find writing and typing a mental and physical challenge. All of which was clear in what I wrote. She isn't the first and won't be the last callous so and so I come across but this is the first time I have been honest about how it really makes me feel and what I think of those who do it. 

No survivor is looking for pity. That does no one any good and pity is worthless and far too easy. Aside: would you believe the amount of women who say 'ah, bless' when they see me in my wheelchair? That is pity and it is patronizing and it means fuck all. It dehumanizes me.

The reason it takes so many of us such a long time to gain enough courage to tell our story is precisely because of reactions like that. We fear being shamed and humiliated. The abuse made us feel like that and we don no want more of it.

My first attempts were met with 'you are too sensitive'. What do you think I felt? Yes, shame and humiliation. Another attempt was met with seeming understanding and I was invited to a prayer circle. I accepted, feeling that for the first time I was being listened to. That is until it began and they started to pray that I,(!ME!), be forgiven. Now what type of person is privileged to gain such trust only to throw it back in the face of the person trusting them?

I was taken by surprise today. I started to shake, my heart pounded. This despite the beta blockers and pain killers. One can safely assume by button was well and truly pushed!

Anyone who makes me feel shame, is out. I do not entertain having them in my life. I experienced the same shame, humiliation and anger with the person to whom I was kind and supportive yet they chose to interpret what I wrote as the opposite. I take responsibility for this though as I already knew what they were like but I had given them the benefit of the doubt only to be severely burned. (A situation another would have just brushed off I know but I am who I am.)

However, and this is what is important. I will never be silent. I will not acquiesce. There will always be victims of abuse who need to know my story and the stories of other survivors so that they know there is hope. So that they know that a semblance of peace is possible. That a good life can be lived regardless of how they feel in the moment. They need to know that happiness, joy, real friendship is possible. That love does not mean sex and violence. That love does not mean name calling, undermining ones confidence. Love does not have to be earned.

Most of all, they need to know that is not they who at fault. they need to know that they were abused (are being) because of who the abuser is and NOT  because of who they are.

My experience of writing about my life on this blog has been hugely positive. In ways I could never have foreseen. At first I remained anonymous and I was writing just as away of ordering my story for myself, of making some sense of it. I had no idea how it was going to affect others.

I very soon got comments and emails from other survivors. From professionals in the field child protection. I was astounded. I was also scared. I then realised that if I was telling my story and stating that shame does not belong with us, why was I hiding my identity. So I came out. Obviously I made sure to never identify anyone.

What we all need to know about recovery is this: there will never be a time when we will be as if the abuse the never happened. I used to think that I would come out of recovery wholly new, with the abuse and it's effects wiped away. Not so.

One learns to live well despite it. The severe PTSD symptoms do lessen. They do become further apart. But you will still have them. You will still have buttons that can be pushed, as happened to me today. There will be times when out of the blue, you will be plunged right back into that hell hole. Only now one can get out of it quickly and unaided, shake it off and carry on living a good and happy life.

Peace and joy do come but they don't stay. They come and go. But instead of plunging back into darkness when they go, one just lives well. One feels, one enjoys, and some of what we feel will not be nice and some of what we feel will be wonderful. Overall though we will be content. We will know who we are, where we have come from. We will know we are loved. we will love ourselves and we will not be at the mercy of the whims of others and their opinions about us. Only you really know what you feel.

No person who has not been through this torment has any idea at all what it is like. Remember that next time some ignorant soul judges you, they have not walked in your shoes. They understand nothing. There are those whose ability to empathise allows them to understand that we suffered/suffer and they treat us accordingly. They are safe people. Sadly, far to many do not have this gift.

I know that when one is in the depths of the shame and humiliation, the fear and the pain, it is nigh on impossible to see that the shame does not belong with one. The light seems very far away and it also seems that it must be us. After all, that person seems to be living a functional life. it is we who are not. it must be our fault. It is often just easier to blame ourselves than to accept that yes, other people can be so callous. It is not a safe feeling, yet we are strong enough to deal with it. No everyone is not coming from the same place. there those who will seek to harm you. There are those that do not seek to harm you but just do not care a joy. But there are those who not only will not harm you, they will love you and they will hold you and help you. You will become strong enough to accept them too.

WINDFALL

Life can be very strange as I am sure you know.

My mood has been somewhat low recently. I haven't really understood why. Especially when everything in my life seems to be going so well.  Tonight my closest friend  suggested that it is precisely because everything is going so well and really good things are happening is why my mood has taken the plunge. She says because I am just not used to life being this good and my old tapes are always that things go from bad to worse.  Anyway, I am feeling much better.

There are major changes  going on right now.  First of all we have come into a very large sum of money which we were not expecting.  We have considered buying a bungalow which we could do tomorrow and still keep this house.  However, we have been very happy in this house and we have good neighbours. So we think we shall be making more alterations to this house than just the conservatory we have already booked.

We will have the kitchen totally remodelled and we will either have a double sink or one big enough to bath the dogs in.  We shall also have a Stannah chair lift put in and turn the bathroom into a shower room.  We will also turn the outside sheds,  which have a fully plumbed toilet,  into part of the house.  They are already made of brick. 

 We will have the whole house carpeted top to bottom and also redecorated throughout.  I will finally bite the bullet and get rid of almost all of my knitting machines and everything that goes with them.  I have to face facts that I cannot really put them too much use myself now.  It takes me a long while to knit just one sweater.  I will not however leave myself without at least one machine.

 Even after doing all this to the house we could still go out and buy another house!  So we are pretty much set for life.  My fears about the quality of life dropping considerably once John retired have now gone and in fact our quality of life will be greater!

 It feels very strange to be writing about such good things happening to ME.  This is the sort of thing that happens to other people.  I have always been very aware of how fortunate I have been to have survived what I have survived.  This, however is way way beyond my expectations which were very few. I just wanted to not feel bad all the time.  I never thought or dreamt about feeling good.  I just wanted to be numb.

 Now most of you reading this will no that I have serious physical pain 24/7 and you therefore may be surprised at the above paragraph.  Don't be. This sort of pain is nothing in comparison to the psychic pain that was my life for so many years.

 It feels very strange to look at a 5 bedroomed bungalow, which I did do today, and know that I could pay for it cash if I so chose to.  I do think though that I have made the right decision, along with John of course, to get this house the way we would like it to be and use the rest of the money for security and living well.

 I do agree with those people that have suggested that my day at Crufts really took a lot out of me.  I had not been to a dog show since last September and so to make my 1st show Cruft's was a big deal! 

 I also came to realise a few things about showing dogs, especially my breed which are usually such late maturers.  Elizabeth  who won BIS at Cruft's,  is 7 years old!  I was very lucky that Whitney became a champion by the age of 18 months and was retired before she was 3!  I realise that this is not usual and that I must bear in mind that the timescale for Mary Grace and any other dog that  I show will be longer. 

 Touch wood, at the moment Chase  looks to be exactly what I was hoping for and I am excited about showing him.  He has not got his 2nd set of teeth yet and we just have to sweat it out until he does because the teeth could make or break him!  Other than that he is a beautiful dog who is very well made and with the most delightful personality.  His jaw at present is perfect  and what I would expect it to be before the 2nd teeth come in.  He is now 4 months old and during the next 8 weeks I will know the answer as to what his bite will be!  This is a very difficult breed when it comes to bites. 

Whitney Houston Too Rich To Suffer

In response to comments regarding the death of Whitney Houston:

I feel nothing but compassion for her. 

I think people too readily condemn her or are harsh because they think that money and and fame are a cure all. 

I also think they let jealousy get in the way. 
Addiction is a terrible affliction. If she had died of cancer or diabetes I don't believe would be mean spirited about her death. the woman died because of an illness, one that causes terrible suffering to all 
concerned.
 
Many people are obese and whilst people are mean about fat people, I don't recall anyone slamming <Mama Cass for her death, or come to think ofit  Karen Carpenter who died as a direct result of her addiction. Elvis? He is practically worshipped.
 
Then there are other addictions-OCD-like constant washing, tidy freaks, etc. Why do we pick out booze and drugs as far worse and also a totally self inflicted problem, when we tend to have compassion for anorexics, bulimics, neat freaks, clean freaks, and a host of other addictions. And yes they DO all have victims. 


We ALL pay the cost of food addiction in tax and healthcare costs for example, children losing their parents too young because they were overweight. 
I think what makes people angry is the that Whitney Houston, thru her life and death, has shown that what we think of as the cure, wealth and fame, is no such thing and that scares us stupid because we all think if we were that rich, our problems would disappear. No they would not.

Rich or poor, we are still who we are. I am sure Ms Houston lived under the same illusion and this would have increased her suffering not lessened it. Then of course there is death itself: our biggest fear and now we are in the business of dealing with the fear of our own death by blaming everyone else for theirs! If we eat right, exercise right, do this right, or that right, think this way or that way, follow the true path et etc etc we will not die.

Bollocks but a very powerful incentive nonetheless for us to continue to find reasons why it is THEIR fault for dyeing. Weak people LOSE their BATTLE with cancer! Or they SUCCUMB to MS. Or, most commonly, they did something wrong and brought it upon themselves. Thus we, who are good, will not suffer so. Bad things do not happen to good people do they?

EVIL PERSONIFIED

I have always rejected the notion that people can BE evil. Think evil, behave evilly, but not BE.

Having seen many of the posts on your page (a famous author who posts stories about the appalling abuse of children and women by Religion)over a long period of time from religionists spouting hatred toward homosexuals, women, children coming here not to share their horror at the abuse by RC priests and Protestant pastors/vicars etc, but to defend them.

Recently, on another site, there was an article about a young gay man living on the brink of suicide in a place where h e is not excepted. The religionists were out in force telling him he was seriously bad, God would forgive him if only he'd repent. That God could and would make him him heterosexual.

I reluctantly came to the conclusion that these people are evil personified. What they believe, their faith, their actions, all of it-evil. I thought that with patience, tolerance, explanation, behaving well toward them etc might make a difference. How stupid was I!

These people are not stupid-they are just evil with closed minds and nothing can affect change on a closed mind, not even God.

It does warm me though that one Southern Baptist woman has seen the light and has left her church because of it's hatred of homosexuals. She means it too because she said to me that her realisation that homosexuality was NOT a feeling or an action but a state of being. I realised that not only did she mean it but she UNDERSTOOD! However, she is a rare entity and her change had nothing to do with me. I will no longer be putting myself out there in my ludicrous attempt to illuminate savages into compassion or understanding. I get it now. Really, do NOT cast pearls before swine because it's YOU who will slip on them and end up broken.

(BTW I have used the term Relgionist because I am not referring to just one dogma/creed. I include Islam, Judaism , Xianity, and any belief which condemns people not behaviour.)

I WRITE BECAUSE I CAN

Last night John and I went to see Janis Ian in concert in Birmingham. I have had tickets to her concert before but I was unable to attend the previous time so I was very pleased to get them this time. I was also very pleased that because of my being a wheelchair user I got both tickets at half price, a pre-booked parking space right outside Birmingham Town Hall which is where the concert was held, and a wheelchair space in the concert hall itself.

The concert itself was excellent. Janis Ian is very lucky that at just over 60, she still has her voice. I was very surprised at how she hit the high notes. The whole concert was just her and a guitar. No backing tape, no backing singers, no backing musicians. Astonishing.

Of course if you know Janis Ian's lyrics you will know that her songs can hit you right in the gut. Last night was no exception. However, the bit that really got to me was her talking about her mother. She clearly had a good relationship with her mother. She spoke about her mother being her place of safety when she was a child. About being held in her mother's arms and feeling safe.

I have never had this in my life. It is not true that one does not miss what one has never had. This feeling of safety is something I have hankered after all of my life. To feel as though I am home and safe.

To me my home is John. I also know that in reality there is no such place as security and safety. None of us are safe nor are we secure. We can have some measure of both. As an adult I am fully aware of this. So I wonder if this feeling that I have which I find very difficult to put a finger on is to do with the fact that I never had that place of safety when I was a child. There was nowhere for me to turn where I would feel protected and safe because those who were supposed to make me feel like that were the ones who instead frightened me and left me feeling completely insecure. I wonder if that is what makes me feel so keenly now?

I vividly remember the scene from the science fiction film 2001: A Space Odyssey in which one of the astronauts has his cord cut and he goes floating off into space. I was a young teen when I saw this film and that scene chilled me to the bone. I knew exactly how he felt. I have felt like that all of my life.

In 1979 I was in love with a man who did not love me. He was with me because I was young and available and accessible because of how screwed up I was. Even today, although I know precisely how one-sided that relationship was, it is one I have never forgotten. It was the 2nd time I had been in love. The trouble is, I had all the baggage of having been unloved as a child and being frightened and convinced that I was evil and not worth anything. He did not know this and all he could see was that his bit on the side was much more involved than he wanted to be. Anyway, the reason this relationship comes to mind is that a scene from our relationship seems very raw and apropos to this feeling of safety. The scene happened after our relationship was over. I had met him somewhere or other, by accident or design I cannot remember, but he clearly had nothing better to do that night and I went home with him. Afterwards, I lay with my head on his chest and I could not stop the flood of tears that came. I made no sound. At the time, I felt so totally alone and scared. Like the astronaut. I also knew I would not find any comfort where I was. It was truly one of the most devastating episodes of my life. In hindsight, I can see why, but of course then I did not know myself at all back then. Even as I write this, from my position of financial security, a 30 year relationship, and a profound understanding of myself and my history, I still feel the pain of the lost boy that I was.

As I write this, I don't really know where it is leading. I only know that I need to write and I am doing so because I can. The title of this post is a twist on the title of something else and I will not let on what that is just to see who might understand the reference.

I have been feeling something that I am finding very difficult to put into words. I felt it keenly last night at the Janis Ian concert. It has to do with time passing. With how much time has passed. And the full and certain knowledge that for me and for John time will stop (just as it will for you who are reading this ).

I think part of it is that I am aware of myself today and how I feel. I am fully aware of that which I lost, all of that which I never had and the effect that it has had on me. I am aware that so, so many years of my life were spent in darkness. I confess that now that my life is lived in the light, that I know how lucky I am in comparison to others, when I see the suffering around me, I find I am almost ashamed to admit that I do look back with a huge, huge sorrow.

I am enjoying experiences that I really ought to have had when I was young. I am now catching up on music which was produced during my time in the dark. It is not just new voices I am listening to but the voices of those current at various parts of my life which I was unable to appreciate because I was so dis-associated from myself and my feelings. I don't know if this even make sense. It is just my clumsy attempt at putting into words what I am feeling.

I realised last night just how frightened I am with regard to John's health and the fear that I have that it will claim him. Besides the fact that I could not bear to see him suffer in any way, he is also all that I have. I cannot imagine my world without him. That is a lie. I can imagine only too well. Hence my fear. I have made an appointment for him to have a review with is Dr. I will be speaking to her beforehand because John will minimise and with COPD, that is not wise.

I am not as honest in my sharing as people appear to think that I am because I very often refrain from writing the way I am right now. This is me though. Yes I am generally a happy and positive person but I'm not an idiot with my head in the clouds! I am not whistling in the dark to keep my spirits up. I am fully aware how temporary all this is

And when I feel this deep sadness, this terror, I can almost understand why people cling to very black-and-white views of the world and of life and death. I can understand why they choose such rigid Gods to obey and why they pour hatred and scorn upon those who deny their idea because it makes them feel less certain. It is why they cling together and have as little as possible to do with those who do not think as they do. In order to keep their idea intact they must have as little as possible to do with others who hold to different ideas. It is why relationships between the faiths are frowned upon. And while those of no faith at all so despised.

So recently I have not been watching as much DVDs. I have spent much of my time just knitting and listening to music.

It always amazes me how easily I can be made to feel deep shame when I am caught off guard or am distracted and tired. Last night on the way back from the concert we stopped for coffee at one of the motorway service stations. There was a man and woman seated at a table near me and the woman had the most beautiful wine coloured lacey long dress on complemented by wine coloured high heels and black lace stockings. As I left I told her that I thought her dress was beautiful and she reacted with the equivalent of a slap in my face! Both she and her husband turned away from me and she muttered something and it felt very much like she thought for some madman was pestering her. Or that I had just said: love your tits or something equally vile. I really was shocked and it made me feel sick to my stomach as I walked away. How very odd. I have strangers make comments about my attire, especially my boots, all of the time and it never occurs to me to react with anything but a polite thank you and I always feel and in a surprise that people would have the nerve to be kind like that to someone they don't even know. So I was very taken aback with last night's response from that woman.

Sometime this week Mary-Grace will have her puppies. I am really looking forward to this. As if I really need to write that! Despite having had many litters since I was 12 years old I still get excited every time.

I don't know about anybody else, I cannot be the only one, but when I feel just how much I love John, it frightens me.

CLOUDY DAYS

I have to say that I do not feel in the best of moods recently. I do not know why. I am sleeping well. I am not having bad dreams. I am having difficulty getting up in the morning. And it is this latter that 1st indicated to me that some isn't right because I always want to get up because I always have so many exciting things to do.

One thing I have realised recently is how my disability leaves me feeling vulnerable. I have never been physically confident. Now I feel even less so. Although I have fairly negative feelings toward visiting America-mainly because of the strong homophobic religious atmosphere-I realised yesterday that being unable to walk properly and needing to use the wheelchair is what tips me over the edge to not wanting to go at all. I am not one to harbour ridiculous fears and prejudices and I have tried not to feel the way I feel about the USA but every time I convinced myself that we are just talking about a small number of religious loonies the news and the Internet tell me this is not so. Some very extreme people with vile ideologies have already been elected into power, 2 of them as governors of states!

Anyway, I have got off the point. I'm trying to figure out why I feel low. I have had a lot of pain since our holiday so for about the last 6 weeks or so. I also look back over the last year and it is obvious that like the previous years I have physically become worse. Swimming is no longer easily. Whereas I always found the first few minutes hard to do, and now I generally find the whole swim painful. Most especially my neck both arms and chest.

I don't like writing about this. It does not suit the image I like that of the happy-go-lucky man who ignores the challenges! How silly is that? This stems from the fact that men are supposed to be stoic and not complain and also from the fact that I get really annoyed with people who do nothing but complain! My closest friend and I have very similar diseases and we do share with each other about it but both of us have full lives and get on with it despite it all.

May be it is normal for me to not be able to feel positive and strong all the time with regard to my disease. I met somebody recently who has the same disease and I was horrified to see what it had done to them in such a short time. I felt really bad because all I wanted to do was get away. I did not and I spoke and gave them a loving touch as we parted. I had to fight myself though to not recoil. I am not daft I know exactly why I reacted like that. The truth is I may never get like that. That is not always an easy fear to conquer though.

It is hard to know why I feel so sluggish. I feel bloated and heavy. I seem to lack energy.

Something has just popped into my mind. As I may have mentioned previously, we have upgraded our audio system and television with audiophile quality equipment. The look on John's face when he 1st heard his opera music through the new system was what I hoped to see. I too am astounded at the sound quality of both CDs and vinyl and also the quality of the television picture, especially when watching DVD and Blu-ray. We also exchange the speakers to high quality as well.

We have done this because John is soon to retire and we would not be able to do this once he has. he told me to think about what we want or need and to buy now. So the wheelchair was upgraded to the best. I bought two electric armchairs. Then after thinking about what we would both like I went ahead and bought the hi-fi equipment.

I realise that I feel guilty. This was just a niggly little feeling when I spent £100 on a shirt but it has now grown to a fully fledged guilt. I know that John has similar problems about spending money. I do not think we feel exactly the same way about it and certainly not for the same reasons.

When I was growing up, I was taught to be grateful to anything that I was given because I didn't really deserve it and they were only giving it to me because they were good. This feeling has stayed with me.

Every morning recently I have sat in my armchair and I've looked at my Macbook Pro which is the 1st thing I switch on when I wake up and then in front of me the Arcam hi-fi sits there taunting me and basically saying “what were you thinking?" You could have spent that money on the starving in Africa all you should have saved it for a rainy day.

During the learning process and buying process I of course was enjoying myself. I happily spent several days, not all at once, studying and auditioning various bits of equipment. Then after I have made my decision and it was all set up in the house I set about enjoying it. Then this feeling of guilt started to come over me and I now realise that I do have difficulty in enjoying what I have. Whereas I know that I am very fortunate in that we could afford this I now just feel bad and almost ashamed to even talk about it!

I think our world makes it difficult to have when others have not.

A HUNKY CARER PLEASE

If there were one thing that I really find upsetting about my condition, t is my inability to concentrate. I am unable to sit and watch films in one go. If I do not take medication then pain prevents me from being able to concentrate and if I do take medication, the medication prevents me from concentration!

Our nearest cinemas are over 20 miles away. We rarely go and in fact we probably have given up going. If I take enough medication, I can basically stop fidgeting and because there are no other distractions. I am able to concentrate longer. However, I usually then find I have a battle to stay awake!

I do watch a lot of DVDs but they are series and they are easy to watch because the episodes are usually under 50 min and I can enjoy them whilst I am knitting all messing about on the computer without really missing anything important.

What I miss is being transported if you know what I mean. For an hour and a half or three hours, I used to be so absorbed in the film, if it was good. At the end of it, it was like waking up. I am no longer able to get that absorbed.

I am still able to read and I do so every night but I do not read for very long before I fall asleep. So whereas I might have read two or three books a week, it now takes me weeks to finish one book. Written down that sounds rather poor.

I do all of my reading now on my Kindle and it is so much easier for me to hold. It is very light. No, it is not like a real book, which I love to see on the shelves but I no longer buy them. This does not apply to my knitting books which are usually big format and they can just sit on my lap because I do not read them in bed.

Most of my difficulties have been resolved or made better by making adaptations such as using the Kindle to read. However, I have yet to come up with anything that enables me to concentrate long enough to watch a film. I had not realised until this last couple of days when I have watched Harry Potter and the Deftly Hallows. It took three sessions for me to complete seeing the film. Because of this I do not get emotionally involved. I just realise that this is what it is that I miss and completely spoils my enjoyment. I don't know if there is a good combination of drugs that would enable me to concentrate.

The government here are trying to get as many people off disability as they can and I am seriously worried that they are going to come after me. I could not even work on a till in Tesco. I would lose track of what I am doing all I would get very confused because my brain just gives up by that I mean I just goes blank. Once again I would have exactly the same problems as I have in the cinema if I don't take painkillers. I just wouldn't be able to sit and work the till for more than a few minutes. If I do then I just experienced the same inability to function properly.

I managed dog shows by careful planning and revision of my actions before the show and after the show. I also take many more drugs. The night before a show I am usually in bed by six or 7 PM because I am up at 2 AM usually leaving around 4am. I need those two hours for my body to function well enough for me to get dressed. When I get to the show. I park my staff and I stayed sitting down until it is time for me to go in the ring and I only get up when I need to have a pee. My time in the ring is short and painful but up until now I have always managed those few minutes. I have fallen a few times but fortunately other people have seen that I was about to topple and prevented me from doing so.

I think I have a very good attitude and I deal with my challenges in a positive way. I enjoy my life and I do not let my diseases get in the way. Well of course that is not entirely true. Of course my disease gets in the way. What I mean is I make the best of it.

If I were very rich and did not value my independence so highly I would pay somebody to do the following: help me get out of bed every morning, help me to wash and helped me to dress.I would also have them cook my meals for me. All of these things I find very difficult to do and I do not do them every day other than get out of bed. Whereas I used to insist that I was always dressed properly when going out I have had to give that up. Hence I do not wear traditional pyjamas. Instead I wear what is called leisurewear. I make sure that they are fun and interesting and colourful. With the addition of a hat and something around my neck I don't feel like a cripple in his pyjamas going to the supermarket!

I use only the microwave and a steamer for cooking. I cannot hold anything heavy as it is too dangerous. Even with these precautions I still drop stuff. Like those little microwaveable meals that Tesco do. Quite often I will go to get it out of the oven and drop it all over the floor! So yes somebody to cook for me would be very good.

Thankfully I am able to deal with the pain side my disease. Through the use of drugs and my ability to disassociate I'm mostly can keep it in the background. Not all of the time. This day last week I was almost in tears after two weeks of nagging pain that just would not go away no matter how many pills I took. It was quite severe as this is the pain caused when my diaphragm cramps and painkillers do not seem to touch it. Then I awoke on Friday and I was back to feeling like there was almost nothing wrong with me.

My biggest frustration as I think I've probably made very clear is being prevented from doing what I want to do. I do not mind be helped and I do not have any difficulty asking for help. I am not proud in that sense although perhaps I was because asking for help is a new thing with me.

anyway things like not being able to make a machine knitted sweater in one day anymore.not being able to deal with things that I used to find just so easy. For example having visitors. I love my friends and I really enjoy seeing them but it is exhausting for me and I couldn't possibly do it everyday. And I have to say that company that lasts for more than an hour drains me.

And now I must finish this post.

LIFE

These are flowers in my garden. I am impressed with the lens on my Sony Alpha. It's a SAM 30mm f2.8.

Today has been a good day. Sunny and warm all day. I have felt much better than I have of late. Thursday last I was on the brink of tears because of almost two weeks of severe fatigue and pain. Yet today one could almost believe I was well. I always think that, completely ignoring the fact I have taken 16 pills so far! ;-)

I watch Terry Pratchett's documentary about Assisted Dying. I was of course very moved by it. And frightened.

I am NOT frightened of assisted Dying. I am not frightened of death. I am frightened of those people who are determined to prevent this from being legal. Who are determined that I and others like me are condemned to a painful terrible death because THEY are frightened of death. Their excuse is that the vulnerable have to be protected. They say that if Assisted Dying were legal, we'd all start killing off the old and the disabled. Bollocks. Hasn't happened in Switzerland,Belgium, Oregon, Washington or the Netherlands. All of which allow assisted dying and euthanasia. One of the anti's was an atheist. No problem with that. I am not BUT i object very very strongly to the religious making these decisions based upon their particular fantasy. It holds no more validity than me basing my decisions upon what is written in Harry Potter novels, or any of the books of Enid frigging Blyton. It seems to me that the pro assisted dying/ euthanasia are ruled by compassion for human beings and the others by fear.

My doctor is a palliative care, pain, expert. She is also honest. About 30% of terminally people do NOT have their pain relieved. So the argument that no one need die in pain if taken care of is false.

I also found it very disturbing that one of the men who chose to die in this film had tried to take his own life. He swallowed 3 mths worth of morphine. He was unconscious for 5days but lived. Terrifying.

I am started to use my Facebook page to make daily videos. I did a Good Morning one just for a laugh but it seems people like them so I am doing more. I am Colin 'Knitman' Andersson on FB.

xoxo

AN UNCERTAIN MAN IN PARIS

Two of these photographs, the dog and the camp as tits man are small bits of very large paintings. Everything I take a shot of impresses me for one reason or another. I prefer the single portraits, more of which to come, as they seem the most real to me.

The painting here of the priest and the monk makes me think of all those burned by the church and otherwise tortured and inhumanely treated. I love old churches and cathedrals and monasteries too but for their architecture and art. The feeling I get in them is one of dread and intense coldness. I can almost hear the cries of those tortured and burned by these 'holy men'. Made all the worse knowing that other 'holy men' are killing and torturing in the name of their God today - in the Middle East - and how in our more 'civilised' societies the systematic rape and abuse of children by 'holy men' and 'holy women' is covered up and thereby sanctioned by other 'holy men' and 'holy women'.

I used to think, in the days when I was almost completely disassociated, that a lot of tosh was spoken about art. I no longer think that way. Oh I still think some speak and write a lot of tosh but I do now know that art is vital and it does speak to us though what each will hear will differ.


I find it astonishing that life in the times of these paintings was brutal and short for most, was lived amongst the filth of our waste, the smell of it, truly awful, yet such beauty was created also.

I was listening to modern day 'holy people' today, speaking of life and how they think we ought to live it. Oblivious to the fact that they make life so much worse for many. They spoke of life as a gift.

A gift for whom? How can it be a gift if one is born to live a life of suffering and then to die in suffering? How can it be a gift for a child born into famine? A child born into brutal civil war? Hacked to death? Or a child who spends years in day by day abuse? A gift? Really?

There will be those so shocked or repulsed by my next words that they will think me severely disturbed or depressed. In fact there will be those who think I am better shut up, forcibly, than even to entertain the idea that I may have a point. It is their fear that speaks to them. Not my words.

I would much rather have not had a life at all. Yes, today, by comparison to the lives of others and the life I used to have, I have a good life. I understand this. Not just intellectually. I do derive enjoyment from it. I know how to make the best of things. I know that it is wiser by far to choose to enjoy what I have than to allow the negative and misery to overcome what I have. I could. So easily. I know that for me and others of such good fortune, it is pretty much down to what I allow to dominate my thoughts. I can choose to enjoy the life I have. I do choose to.

Yet, I fail to see it as a gift. If I were given the choice, I'd rather not have existed at all. Save the last few of my 52 years, life was always far more pain and struggle than joy. I didn't know joy or comfort until recently. Now I do and whereas before I longed for the end of life, now I do not , I do not want it to end.

Now I know that my death will cause pain and suffering to John and his will cause pain and suffering to me. I would prefer he went first to spare him that pain because I think I am better able to handle it as grief is not new to me. Yet the idea of yet again going into that darkness terrifies me.

The world would not stop turning if I had not existed and it will not stop when I don't exist any more.

Enjoying the beauty around me, as I have done in Paris, or when I am just simply being with my dogs, is not a feeling easy to describe. It seems pain and suffering are far easier to find words for! Joy and peace seem inadequate to describe my present when compared to my past.

If life is an accident then it is without any merit. It is pointless. My struggle, your struggle, will all have been for nought. There are those who say it isn't because our struggle makes life better for the coming generations. They neglect to remember that there will, at some point, be no more generations to come. Nothing will be of any use or importance. If the end of physical life is truly the end of consciousness, then why live it? There is no purpose. The propagation of our genes is not a satisfactory answer because science tells us this will all come to end anyway. The Universe will cease to be. Gone. As if it never were.

On the other hand, if consciousness is not extinguished by the death of the physical body, there could conceivably be a point to life. I have no idea what it is and I do not believe anyone else does either. Those who insist they know are the most afraid of uncertainty. They cling to words written down in ancient times regardless of the moral bankruptcy implicit in such clinging. Better to be cruel and immoral but be right! Their sense of righteousness quells their fear. If only for a short time. To stop it rising they must force others into silence or agreement, to shore up their defences.

Even if life is not over as death suggests, it doesn't mean life is a gift.

Could it be a choice?

If life is not a choice, that you and I did not choose to have this life, then our will is anything but free. In order for life to be a choice, then we must have existed before we were conceived. Beyond comprehension. Nuts. Crazy.

Yet we readily accept the idea of Free Will when the idea that we have a will that is free is far more than crazy. It is positively wicked. It causes pain and suffering. It is also used to justify evil.

The religious love to trot out Free Will. That their God gave us Free Will and if we use our Free Will to believe what ever tripe they are pushing, we will go Heaven, be 'saved'. If we do not use our Free Will to so believe, then we are damned. Right there is one reason Free Will is bulldust-no one's will is free when a loaded gun is pointing at them.

The other, most obvious, reason that Free Will, as so far explained to us, is not free is because we are not all knowing. We can only freely make choices if 1. we know all there is to know and 2. can make choices free of fear. It seems likely that 2. would be moot if 1. were the case.

I can see why those who insist they are right, be they atheist or theist, do so: uncertainty is scary, painful, and well, so damn uncertain! Yet uncertainty is the only honest admission. Everything else is bollocks.

It is perfectly possible to live a life that is good and happy and which does not rely on the suffering of others, based upon ideas that we cannot know the truth of. I have yet to come across a religious ideology that does not rely upon exclusion and therefore the suffering of others in order that the religious might be happy and certain.

When I choose to read the words of others, I do so with the knowledge that I am not reading TRUTH but ideas. Ideas that may or may nor resonate with my mind. It is dangerous to read the words of others as TRUTH or with the idea that one might come across TRUTH. It is an abdication of our personal responsibility to lay our life down to the words and ideas of another. No matter how old the words or ideas may be! We must always be thinking for ourselves and living according to our conscience and not the conscience of another.

It is much easier to live according to the rules and conscience of another. This is why doing so is so attractive and indeed does attract so many people to do just that. Oh they may think themselves martyrs. They may think themselves strong and brave.

It is those who can live, and live well, with uncertainty who are the strong and the brave.

Those who proclaim certainty are the weak and cowardly and most in need.

IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE

I arose at 5:30 AM today so that I am tired enough to be asleep by 11 PM tonight as I have to be up at 2 AM for tomorrow’s dog show.

Once my drugs have kicked in I will be bathing Mary-Grace.  I am also going to groom and or bath Ada. I am very pleased that the drugs enable me to do this.  Much to my surprise, however, although the drugs give me the mobility I need, they do not prevent the after affects of whatever activity I choose to do.  Meaning once they wear off I feel the effects of the activity.  No pill deals with fatigue!

My day had not started very well at all because I had an e-mail from one of my groups that praised Sarah Palin, Glenn Beck, and Bill O’Reilly. And this on an empty stomach too.  I was severely traumatised! However, my pills have now kicked in and I find I can cope with the fact that there are such people in the universe.

I have to say that I have been feeling mentally and spiritually good recently.  Much of this has to do with the fact that I am getting sleep now. As I have mentioned before it is very easy to get used to something and completely lose awareness of it.  For years I have had very disturbed sleep and very little in the way of deep sleep. This greatly affected my mood, my diet, and my general disposition.  Since I have been taking the gabapentin in I have slept well most nights and have discovered that I am not naturally a grumpy old git!  Everyone I know from acquaintances to friends have all noticed the difference in me.  The fact that I feel so different is quite amazing to me because as I said I had got so used to my sleeping pattern that I was unaware of its negative effects.  The lack of sleep was caused by pain.  Having to wake up in order to change position or waking up because of spasm.  I barely slept for more than an hour and a half at a time.  Thankfully for now the gabapentin works at 1200 mg a day and I can go to was much as 3000 mg a day although I do not have any need for that right now.  I still take the morphine, tramadol and paracetamol.

I still have yet to find the right home for Waldo.  I know the right home will come as it always does I am just surprised it has taken so long as he is almost 6 months old.  It is not that I have had a lack of phone calls from interested parties I just have not found any of them suitable.  One couple who got here included a wife who was frightened of dogs!

I have also decided to part with Winston.  Unfortunately he has not fulfilled his early promise as regards his skeletal structure.  His forelegs are bent and whilst this of course does not harm him in any way is not what I want in my dogs.  It is a fault that is very difficult to get rid of proven by this litter where of three puppies all three of them have a bent front.  The mother also had this and I know that dogs behind her did.  The father of these puppies was unable to correct this fault.  Mated to other bitches I have only had straight legs.  Dogs with dodgy fronts do win at the shows but it is still not acceptable to me. These are the first bent legs I have had for years and hopefully they will be the last.  I am very disappointed with regard to Winston.  He has the most beautiful head and rear end and he is the most sweet natured dog. He will make somebody a lovely pet.

On the knitting front I am knitting a pair of socks for John in a new yarn that I now dye.  It is a four ply/fingering weight sock yarn that is a combination of two strands of Merino and one strand of super wash Merino. This results in a tweed affect when it is dyed.  I like it very much and it is knitting up well.

I have not been knitting my Aran sweater for quite some time as I have been knitting socks and working on the knitting machines.  I just don’t seem to have enough hours in the day.  I have learned not to knit my Aran sweater at dog shows because I really have to think as I knit and it is far too easy to make mistakes when people come and talk to me.  If this were not so I would probably have finished the sweater by now!

After tomorrow show, I do not have a show until the last Monday of May. I have quite a number of shows during June, July in fact all the way through until Christmas.

Olga is proving a very easy ride for me.  Her automatic transmission is such a bonus.I cannot believe that no-one ever pointed out to me that an automatic transmission would be far less painful for me to drive.  Just because I am disabled does not mean that I know or understand my needs.  Being disabled is new to me so I am as ignorant of my needs as the able-bodied are of the needs of disabled people.  I think it would be a good idea to have somebody who understands our needs who I could have gone to speak to.  Had I had this available to me I would never have bought the previous car,  the Ford Mondeo.It was completely unsuitable for me.  It was a beautiful car to look at.  I did however find it too long and I found it very difficult to park it because I could not see past the front and reversing in her was equally difficult.  This Ford Galaxy has a much blunter shorter front but she has very much more room.  I had a wheelchair hoist fitted in the back that will lift up to 100 kg.  This has given me back my freedom.  I am now able to go out where I want and when I want as I no longer have to have anybody with me.  When I run out of an item in the house I can just go to Tesco and get it.

Although I am of course preparing for tomorrow, I do not think about how tomorrow will be.I only think about today and the period between now and me going to bed.  I only have to deal with now.  To the best of my ability I do not let yesterday or tomorrow ruin my today. Living one day at a time is so ingrained in me now but I well remember what it was like when I did not and I did not understand the concept.  Having this attitude has certainly improved my life greatly.  Imagine if I allowed myself to think of my future and the progression of my disease.  Even as I write that, my stomach lurches.  I do not know what will happen.  I could stay as I am until I am 80 odd, or in six months time I may not be able to walk at all.  All sorts of things could happen.  However, I do not entertain these possibilities because they are apt to ruin my day.  Even in times of great distress, knowing that I only had to deal with now lessened the ordeal.  There is not a day that goes by that I am not grateful for what I have.  Counting one’s blessings may sound trite but it is so necessary for us to have quality of life.  If we only concentrate on what we do not have how can we have any piece?  Of course I am a very fortunate person.  I used to think that I was not because I was so weighed down by my past and the lack of a loving family.  Now I see things very differently.  This was no magic conversion.I could only let go of the past once I had exposed it and experienced the feelings that I had repressed.  I also learned that I could choose what to think and what believe and that I could ditch the belief system that my childhood instilled in me. That belief system was killing me. to a very great extent we really are we think.  Everything in my life changed because of the change in my thought patterns and belief system.  My worldview changed dramatically.  This is not at all an easy ride.  Nervous breakdowns or as I prefer to call them breakthroughs, are the result of our belief system/worldview collapsing.  It takes time to rebuild.  Unfortunately there is much ignorance even within the profession of psychiatry and many people rebuild the same system and thus never truly recover.  My experience was that every time my repressed feelings came to the surface it was reason to hospitalise me and medicate me heavily until the late was screwed on tight again.  I was never helped and in fact was seriously harmed.  I was very lucky in that I found the right help and I was allowed feel what I needed to feel and I was not classed as crazy.  I was deeply disturbed emotionally and it would be very strange indeed if I were not considering the experiences I have lived through.  The person who helped me understood that there was nothing wrong with me but that I was stuck in a self-defeating belief system and also full of unexpressed grief and anger and fear.  He guided me to the understanding that I could think differently and he gave me the space to feel.  It was a long and painful process that took five years.  I did not need him after that but did have two more periods of several months where more repressed emotions were released.

I am indeed a fortunate man.