KINDNESS AND NOT BEING A SAINT

I discovered something very moving today at the swimming pool. I was speaking to the lifeguard about how the lane next to the wall is always free and if I get to the pool late in the session has already started that Lane usually isn't free but becomes free the minute I get in the pool.  I discovered that this is because the other swimmers make sure that no one swims in that lane when I am there. even if the non-regular users are there they are told to leave that lane free for me.

I have to say that I was truly touched by the kindness of people whom I don't even know. And all they know of me is that I have a physical condition and that I have a need for some reason to swim next to the wall which they wouldn't know about. The reason being is that sometimes my body goes into complete spasm and I will be able to grab hold of the wall more quickly than the lifeguard seeing me struggle.

Anyhow I really was very moved to find miss out and I had been wondering to such a long time why I was always free in that lane. Personally, I would never ask anybody to vacate that lane if they were swimming in it when I arrived.

One of the things that has been bothering me and please please do not take this the wrong way. You're very kind letters to me really lift me up and it keeps me writing about the personal struggles of an abuse survivor on a day-to-day basis.

Abuse never goes away. I cannot really think of a suitable analogy for it. I had thought it would be a bit like losing a limb which would cause daily challenges. However, except in rare circumstances limbs that are not there do not cause pain. Perhaps having the lower portion of each arm amputated would be closer as an analogy because I believe that would cause pain and difficulty 24 seven. However I have no wish to insult any amputees and so I am still stuck with not really having an analogy.

I have just had one of those DUH! moments.  A really good analogy  is my disease. It is permanent and it will never go away. I have to face it every single day and on every single day it causes me challenges and pain. The only difference between it and the abuse survival is that the abuse survival improves over time. It never ends but it does get better and it does not cause me 24 seven pain like my physical problems do.

It is hard to explain how abuse survival affects me every single day but it does. It may wish me not to go out but to stay safe in my house with all of the blinds drawn. It may make me feel uncertain of my friends and it most certainly makes me uncertain of the motives of people who become friendly towards me. It can make me worry that I had inadvertently upset somebody. In the past it would enable me to obsess upon whether I was like to not. In those days not being liked was very dangerous in my mind because it meant you were very likely to harm me. This is one of the recoveries because I no longer believe this. And there are people that I do not like which was quite a revelation to me. I don't treat them as if I don't like them. I do not let other people dictate how I behave. I am a warm and friendly person  and I try not to let the behaviour of others toward me alter that. At the same time I'm no doormat.

So what is it that has been bothering me about the lovely emails that I get? Quite simply it is this: the letters are really beautiful letters to receive and may make me feel very good and I would not wish for them to discontinue. However at the same time I also do not want people thinking that I have it made, that I have the answers, that I am wonderfully happy and content  and sane! No, this could not be further from the truth. Yes I am happy generally speaking. Yes I have a very good life. Yes I have a very loving husband. Yes I have my dogs and I have a wonderful home and security. But none of these things wipe out the abuse and its effects. I have worked very hard to get here and I have to continue to work hard to stay here. There is no goal and if there were a goal I certainly have not reached it.

I am an abuse survivor. If you are an abuse survivor then you are no different to me and I am no different to you. We are both abuse survivors. We both experience the same horrors in the same agonies and we both find each day a challenge. I guess this is what I wanted to say. But I very much appreciate the wonderfully kind emails I get but I also felt the need to point out that I am no hero I am just abuse survivor the same as you are.

CATHCING UP

 Once again I find that I am neglecting to write on my blog.

Recently John and I went to Frankfurt for a week. We both solely enjoyed it. Admittedly we spend most of our time shopping. The shopping in Frankfurt is excellent. Not expensive or rather what I mean is it can be very expensive than also not so much. So we did a mixture of both.

I finally found a shop that specialised in making men's floral suits! They were fully prepared to sell me just the jacket of the suit but unfortunately it was not my size. They said that they could easily make my size and they would take my measurements and I would have to come back for a fitting. They clearly thought we had much more money than we actually have and I explained to them that I could not possibly come back for a fitting but I made it clear that the reason for this was my disability and the fact that I have to use a wheelchair. After all why should I let on the  fact I'm not rich!  I did however by the most fabulous pair of shoes.

 Even just looking at these makes me feel breathless! Before we went away John relented and we bought the Tiffany lamp that I wanted. He wanted it to them but he was having difficulty justifying it.  Like me he still feels funny about spending money just for the hell of it but this lamp is absolutely gorgeous and it does look just right where I knew that it would.

 I have been doing very well at the dog shows recently. I've had some really good wins and some rather poor losses. For instance my Mary-Grace was thrown out of one class. This is dog talks in meaning that she was not placed. I was shocked and upset because she deserved much better than that and I was not the only person who felt that way. However this is the dog game and one has to accept the good along with the bad. At the same show Alexander at his first show was placed second and Fannie was placed fifth. At their second show Alexander won Best puppy in show and Fanny was placed second and Mary Grace was placed third so this was a much better result for me.

Physically I am doing okay. I seem to be having much more of the neurological problems than I am the physical problems i.e. the pain problems. My balance is terrible and I have already mentioned that I'm having a lot of difficulty using my hands and my speech has also been slurring and I sometimes worry that if people saw me walking along to get into a car to drive it they may call the police to say that a drunk man was about to get into a car and drive it! As awful as that sounds I really am not in any difficulty at all behind the wheel in the car. It is just being on my feet and walking that causes the problems.

One of the most serious problems to raise its head is my inability to drive long distances now without falling asleep and I that am talking just 100 miles. I have been very stubborn about this but I realise that I cannot be because I will kill myself or worse,far worse, kill others.  I have accepted this and have made the decision to have somebody else do the driving. I am very lucky to have somebody who is willing to do this and on the days that it is possible it will also include bringing an extra person and the dog. I think I am extremely fortunate. I was very worried and upset about it because I really thought that this was putting an end to my dog showing days and just when my dreams are beginning to come to fruition.

Isn't it indeed strange how life works out?

 This is my friend Sarah holding Alexander.

LOCKING MYSELF OUT AND MY HEROIC RE-ENTRY

 it turned out to be a rather exciting day. I really didn't want to but I decided that I needed to go and do my swim. I got everything ready including making sure all the locks were locked and that the dogs were safely put away. It gathered together my slimming togs  and my Pepsi Max and off I went out of the door. Leaving my keys on the wrong side of the door.

BUGGER.

What was I going to do. All of our little windows were locked. No child could possibly reach through the letterbox and upwards to where the keys hang. My friend with the spare key is one of these lazy people who works and so therefore was of no use to me whatsoever.

I called using my neighbours telephone the company that made the doors and windows and conservatory. They could not help me as all of their workers were out on jobs. However whilst talking with the gentleman I suddenly remembered that my bathroom window was open! 

Now how the hell was I going to manage to get up there with my fear of heights and ladders. My neighbour placed a ladder against the outhouse (posh shed not a toilet although there is a toilet in there.) and asked me if I was sure that it was secure. Yes it is I said because it was built when mated the rest of the house and we have just had worked men up there replacing all the guttering.

Well guess what I put my walking stick down and I climbed up the ladder myself and I got onto the roof. I opened the  bathroom window as far as it would go which is only halfway because of the security hinges. I cleared everything off the shelf and made sure that it all landed inside the shower.

And now for the real challenge. How the FAQ was I going to get in there!?  Oh I had forgotten to add that my neighbour had brought up onto the roof a step ladder. I climbed this stepladder and by holding on to whatever I could hold onto I put one leg through the window and just kept putting it through until it hit the ground. So I had 1 foot on my bathroom floor and the other foot sticking out of the bathroom window. With a little bit of fidgeting I managed to get the other foot through as well until I was stood upright and then Julienne passed me my walking stick. Of course now not only was I very shaky but very unbalanced but oh I felt so very pleased with myself. I still can't believe that I did this.

And do you know what the most important thing is? The fact that I was slim enough to get through that window! Needless to say I have not gone to my swim and I have just pilled up. I have a feeling I am going to pay for this because I can feel parts that I have not felt for quite some time. I have always had very supple legs and I can still sit in the half lotus position and I have always done so since I was a boy. No one taught me how to do it I just do it it's my natural position.

So whilst I am very disappointed I did not get my swim I am also feeling good and very pleased with myself for having done what I've done. We do have spare keys that other people have but of course they're no FAQ in good if they are out at work .

 I have a feeling that I'm going to pay for this escapade but I do not care because I feel really proud of myself. I would never have believed that I could do what I have done today.  I can feel it beginning to grumble now but all I think is well you can shut the fact up! Look what I did to get here! 

SO THAT'S WHY!

I love to go away.  Yet I have only done so on regular basis since 2002. I went once in 1997 and I did a road trip on my own to the United States. Although it was very exciting it was also the very worst time I can remember because I was in such a state with full-blown PTSD and not understanding why.

 Each time before we go away I start to get very anxious and I start to think of all sorts of reasons why we should not go. In fact prior to 2002 this is exactly what I used to do which is why we didn't go away. It was never an issue with money. In fact financially it would have been much easier to have gone away and to have stayed five-star every time had we chosen to because we had very little in the way of living expenses as our home came free because of my disability.

However, it was not to be. I gave up all idea of going away.

It was my love of the dogs that eventually got me going away. I used to find going away very exciting. I was always on my own all I was with adult and John was at home and he was looking after the dogs that were here. I used a telly phone him every day if not twice a day. So you see my fear of going away was negated by the fact that he was still at home with the dogs

No, the problem was all of us going away. This set off very old alarm bells. I moved constantly when I was a child and the lie that I was always told was that my friends my pets my home would all still be there when I got back. I never got back. I was always heartbroken. And I never had any comfort. Because I had no right to be upset. I was a sissy for being upset. I therefore learn to hide my heartbreak.

Unfortunately, what I also did was learn to disassociate. I never allowed myself to get emotionally involved with anybody or anything. It didn't always work but for the most part it did. As a result I was a very lonely child and teenager. The fact that I will serve nerd or a dork or just the sort of child but no one wanted to associate with made it easier because then I didn't have any friends to lose.

Well today as I was writing about the fact that we are away on holiday on Saturday and how nervous I was about it, it suddenly came to me why I go through this fear every time we go away. The fear is only there if we both go away. If John stays at home then my fear is assuaged although not completely because I then have to wonder if he will be there when I get back. However that fear is not as great.

When I write about such insights I do not wish to give the impression that I am miserable  and in bits.  Far from it. I am excited about going away. I am also excited that I have finally understood why I have a fear of doing something that I really want to do. I find these little discoveries exhilarating because it is yet another nail in the Coffin of my past yet another way in which its power over me today has been diminished.

I also share it because as you know that the main reason for me writing my blog is that it helps others to understand their own issues. I must apologise I have just lied. The main reason for me writing my blog is because it helps me feel better and it helps me understand my past and my present better. I only found out after writing my blog for some time that in doing so I was helping other survivors. So forgive me for writing that it was my main reason for writing this blog it is not. I am very glad that you gain something from my ramblings but it is an outright lie to say that I write solely for that reason. No, the fact that it helps you is a blessed side effect.  I could not be happier that by baring my soul on here has such a good effect upon other people. You will never know how good that makes me feel. But I never lose sight of the fact that I am writing this blog for myself. I learn about myself as I write. Although I wasn't writing on this particular blog I was writing when I suddenly made the connection between the leaving for the holiday and the constant leaving of my childhood.  Be experience of the latter explains the fear of the former. Now that this has been brought to light experience tells me that it will take care of itself.

Peter Kay Misheard Lyrics

MY HUSBAND THE SAINT

My husband never ceases to astonish me. He is very patient kind and loving.

We had been to a barbecue on Sunday. In the early hours of Monday morning I awoke with a very bad case of the shakes.  And the sheiks are very violent shivering and they hurt. I woke up and he held me until they stopped. The next time I woke he wasn't in bed. It was late. He had done what was necessary to do with the dogs including feeding the puppies. He then came upstairs with my drugs draw and woke me up and told me I needed to take my drugs. He had also thought to bring up four bottles of flavoured water. Once I had taken my drugs I just went back to sleep again.

I eventually got up at 6 PM and he was there with both my walking sticks and his hands on my elbows because I was very wobbly and kept falling over or rather would have fallen over had he not got hold of me.

He brought me down and sat me in front of the TV and made me a coffee. He asked me if I wanted to eat or rather told me that I should eat so to appease him I hate some ham and a piece of cheese. Within a couple of hours I had gone back to bed.

John has had to put up with me and my health problems for many years now and he never complains. I am very rude to him, can be extremely bad tempered, I throw things, not at him I might add, but I am very continental in my temperament and I like to smash things when I am in a tizz. Of course I'm not like this all of the time and I'm also very affectionate and loving and I also do everything that I can for him.

 I am in awe of him.  Not only would I find it very difficult to have to physically look after somebody as much as he does me but I really don't think that I could take the badtemperedness  and the rudeness.  In fact I am sure I would find it frightening.  I am fairly certain that this is why he never reacts to me in a way that he knows would frighten me. Just another way in which he really does think of me. He understands my past and its effect upon me and so he would understand that certain behaviour towards me would frighten me and would cause serious trust issues between us. This of course makes me feel even more guilty for the fact that  I treat him so badly at times.  In my defence it can be extremely difficult to remain civil when one is in during unrelenting pain and/or fatigue.  However, I am more than well aware that this is no excuse for abusive behaviour and so when I behave really rudely I always apologise. I'm not exactly sure that apologising is enough and the ideal would be to not be rude at all but I can't see me ever succeeding at that.

So this is all that this post is going to be about. My wonderful husband who has stuck by me for 32 years now. Our anniversary is on the seventh of the seventh 2013. It will also be exactly one year after we went through our civil partnership which we fully intend to convert to a full-blown marriage as soon as the law has finished its passage through Parliament.

I have never met anybody who has disliked John. And they nearly all say what a calm and gentle man that he is. I agree completely.

DON'T BELIEVE EVERYTHING YOU READ

 Since I had decided to withdraw somewhat from the Internet I have been feeling so much better. I had found that being immersed in all of the news articles I read which were linked to me by well-meaning friends or just friends from Facebook gave me a very slewed view of what was going on in the world.

I came to believe that the maturity of the world were hateful homophobic racists and that I was surrounded by them. These articles of course had comments allowed and so I got involved in leaving comments which in turn had comments left and which I interned replied to ad infinitum.

I did eventually stopped the commenting or at least I left my comment and then I did not go back as I had no wish to get into arguments.

However this still left me with the erroneous view that the vast majority of people were hateful bigots. I received the following hateful and ignorant letter from a from a  person who then  said tehy knew I would be hurt t=but they were going to defriend me!


"I am lost for words over your writing and rants against me and my kind!!!! as you put it. (This is my writing about how furious I was at those , soem friends, who would vote away my legal rights to line their pocket)
What have we done to deserve it ..............I ask you!!!
Well the answer is simple really.....
We work 24 hours a day seven days a week to keep ourselves, our families and you!!
We never claimed benefits preferring to do whatever it takes to earn a decent living to look after our families and ourselves and to pay our taxes , yet we are at the mercy of those like yourself, that would run us down and make judgement against us.
I have absolutely no problem with contributing to society and the needs of it, however, I do object to the abuse it can throw in my direction for doing so.
I do object to you having me on your friends list and using me to ram your thoughts, political or otherwise down my throat as a thank you for the support I give.
Where do you think your benefits come from..........some politicians pocket.........no...it comes from mine!! and THE MAN IN THE STREET!! that you are happy to run down for being what we consider decent and normal..........(There we have it she is normal because she si heterosexual!)
I have many heterosexual, bi sexual and gay friends. They are friends, I don't see them by their sexual orientation, but as good honest human beings, leading a full and productive life and contributing to society and the world around us, as do many others.(She just doesn't see them as normal)
You have obviously had a traumatic upbringing and every decent human being would have sympathy towards you..........(utter tosh-no one with any empathy would have written such a vile and cruel letter)how much more productive would it be to seek out organisations or individuals going through the same trauma that you did and offer help and support to them. How much more benefit to mankind would be the hours you put into having a go at us, have on an individual needing time and love and support from someone that has gone through what you say you have be to them.(How arrogant can you get? She knows NOTHING about my work with the abused 24/7. Would she put herself out there so publicly as an childhood raper surivivor who parents hated her? No she wouldn't have the balls))
We all have our own personal demons to deal with, cruelty and emotional problems inflicted on us as children and adults, it is what we choose to make of those moments in our lives and how we move on from them. (once again she has the arrogance to write as if she knows me and clearly knows nothing about me)
There always comes a time of understanding of the people that inflicted them, our responses and how we can rise from the ashes they wished to create. (out of the mouth of the ignorant again. I HAVE risen out of the ashes. As for understanding people mwho hate their children, I admit to failing that.))
Since I have been back in the UK I see at shows those that claim and abuse the Disability and Mobility Allowance and have cars etc provided for them by the tax payer, and all the support that is rightly afforded to someone that has complete mobility problems, claiming for helpers etc.
How do they justify, getting up in the early hours, preparing their dogs the same day or the day before, and if it is a coated breed bathing and grooming for hours on end, bending over baths, twisting and turning, using back muscles, shoulder muscles, leg muscles etc etc, bending down to poop scope, spinal cords in operation here, plus supporting muscles.
The exercise that is needed for a dog to be at its prime, walking or running it according to the breed, week in week out. More than a normal office worker would use.
The energy to get up in the early hours, drive for miles , unload a car, load a trolley, pull a loaded trolley, sometimes over the worst terrain, push the bonds of energy and strength, not to mention a day travelling and showing at a show......
Then they run around the ring..............bend over almost to touch their toes...........and say HEY...............I AM DISABLED!! Sorry but if you can do all this you are not DISABLED or IMMOBILE!!!
Does not all this sound more like the commitment of an athlete..............
Oh I forgot they are on medication. would not the same medication be able to help them work!!!!
Take a look in a hospital word...........see the true disabled and immobile......
(This really shows how bitter and jealous and ignorant she is and show she does NOT know me. None has ever seen me run in the ring, many have seen me fall in the ring, many have been kind enough to keep me on my feet. PLUS she has no idea if I am in receipt of DLA or not. All assumptions made from bitterness and jealousy. Why? Maybe because I have a husband of 32 years who loves me and who takes care of me and she has no one.)
MAKE A DIFFENCE USE THE ABUSE YOU HAD............get out there and talk to the young help them with your experiences...........who better than someone that is gone through it....... (Now this is true ignorance and arrogance talking-I have spent years raising money, travelling the country talking, until my diseases stopped it, and I still daily answer emails and suggest healing resources to the hundreds who write to me.How dare she assume I I do nothing?)
So I say......do not sit in judgement of those that you do not wish to judge you !!!!!!!!! (Precisely!)

Why did I not just dump this email? Well, for one, this person is charming. I wanted a constant remeinder to never fall for her wicked charms again. It has taken this long to find the answers I wanted to respond with. Her homophobia and her bigotry toward the disabled could not be more obvious nor could her ignorance of both.

The letter really really hurt me. It shocked me. I had no idea it was coming. I was shocked from whom it came. The venom it displayed toward me is truly astounding. It is the letter of a narcissist. I am only glad I found out early on what they were like because I could easily have grown to love this person and then get hit by this which would have been far more painful. If  I deleted this email I might never remember that it was sent and could easily be convinced that it didn't say what it did.

 I did not expect to include this letter in this article but it is fitting because it came during that very dark time when I believe that the world was full of hateful bigots and this letter did nothing to contradict that.

I know that people like this exist but they are not the majority.

So you see that for many months I was immersed in reading hateful article is about hateful people in the news and thinking that this was the majority of what was going on around me. It is not. Journalists like nothing better than a good controversial story so they flood us with them. In turn this can make us feel that our world is very much worse than it actually is. I am not kidding when I say that I was completely shocked at the passing in Parliament and the House of Lords with such a huge majority of the same-sex marriage Bill. To also then discover that the vast majority of the British public are in favour of marriage equality was also a real eye-opener.

So since I have dropped all this negative shit out of my life, as best I can, I have not only been happier, I have lost more weight, I am not constantly craving food, and I am being much more creative, I have just finished hand knitting a pair of socks and I have just finished machine knitting a cashmere and cotton sweater which I am in the process of selling up and I have died half a dozen hanks of yarn. (My speech to type does not differentiate between die and die  but I know that my readers are intelligent enough to know what I mean.) I am much less of a bear to live with and I no longer feel that the Nazi jackboots are about to kick my adoring and haul me off  to a concentration camp.  however I am not so stupid as to think that this could not happen if the evil bigots grew vastly in number and power and iamb not stupid enough to think that many who know me would allow them to.

But for today this is not happening and full today I am happy and iamb living life to the very best of my ability f*cked body and all.

FABULOUS FANNY AND ALEXANDER

I am thrilled to report that Fanny, Tantra's Fabulous Fanny, has relented. Tonight at ring craft she did precisely what she is supposed to do. She walked, strutting, head held high, tail wagging. We had an argument on Monday, which I won, and it seems she now accepts that I really am the boss. She had a bath on Monday. One of many. However, she didn't want a bath and she went berserk. Literally. If John had not been here I don't know what I would have done. I only just managed to keep hold of her but she sent bottles and glasses and water everywhere. She was like a whirling dervish. I had her by the scruff and I did NOT let go. Eventually she relented. Then when I went to dry her, she started again. I held her firmly and she stopped struggling and decided to scream instead. When I still didn't let her go, she again relented. Although she wasn't perfect at ring craft tonight, she almost was and it was the first time she did as asked, which is only to walk on a lead. I am sure she did it because she now knows I will not give in to her. In 40 years I have never had one as stubborn as she. Mind you, she is also very loving and she will lick you spotless given the chance. Yet she is very weird. She will not eat in her crate with the door closed. She will refuse to eat for a week, seriously, and will not relent. So she is fed just outside her crate. Her limit for sleeping in it is 5 hours. I cannot have disturbed nights as mu nights are bad enough as they are so she has her crate door left open. She has figured out what the newspaper is for. There are soem battles not worth fighting. 

I cannot wait to bring both Fanny and Alexander out. I am thrilled with them both. Alexander is just so very different. I have never had to train him. It seems he just knew what to do. he is a very happy dog. One cannot fail to notice him. Not just the striking black and white coat but his whole attitude. He such a sweet natured boy. It also seems that i may not have to get down with him in the ring. He self stacks and stands when asked. This will be a great help to me. Getting up and down in the ring is the most difficult part for me and is when I am likely to topple over. Mind you, i will still have to for the others but he I think will be perfectly fine without me kneeling.

I can't believe my luck in getting these two. I planned this breeding a few years ago and I was lucky enough to be able to follow through. When their parents were mating, I told them I wanted a black and white dog and a black bitch, show quality please. Look what I got! Serendipity I think is the word.
Now of course we shall have to wait and see how they grow and develop. At 5 months nothing is certain. Especially not in this breed.

CHOOSING LIFE

  So this is what I have been doing today. I knitted the back and front and collar of this sweater. The yarn is 2/28 and a cashmere and cotton mix. The sweater is going to be for myself. When it is finished I will photograph it so that the colour is more true to life. It is a lovely orange.

Above are some yarns that I have dyed.  These will go into my Knitman's Kitchen shop.

   Those who have read my blog on a regular basis know that I have written extensively about my life and about recovery from childhood trauma, namely physical emotional and sexual abuse. I am able to do this without it having a negative effect upon myself. In fact I find my interaction with other people who write to me as a result of what they read on my blog to be very positive.

 However, what I am not good at is debating or campaigning  or constantly reading about the terrible things human beings do to human beings.

Recently an idea had begun to float around in my mind that perhaps reading all the articles that people posted on Facebook or sent to me directly was perhaps not good for me. Then a friend mentioned in passing that perhaps it wasn't a good idea that I got so involved. Then much to my surprise my husband said very forcefully to me that he thought it was my involvement  in this that was causing me to have difficulties in my own life. He felt that I was just constantly reliving the pain of my past.

About 10 days ago I quite simply stopped. I stopped reading articles. I stopped commenting on articles. I ignored racist comments. I ignored homophobic comments. I ignored religious fundamentalists.

As a result, I find myself much more at peace and in a much better mood! It wasn't actually that easy because I felt that I was burying my head in the sand by doing this and that I was somehow betraying abuse survivors and those who are still being abused. Strangely writing about the subject on my blog or replying to the heartbreaking letters that I get does not cause me any difficulties at all. I feel that I am giving to these people that which has helped me. This way of helping helps me. However debating and campaigning and constantly speaking up is not for me. I am unable to do that and remain detached at the same time.

John very rarely says anything to me forcefully nor does he give his opinion unasked.  The fact that he did certainly made me listen  and because I trust him I was able to see that what he was saying was true. I recalled leaving the forum about a year ago precisely because it unsettled me greatly. I was thus able to see what John was talking about. However, I felt that to stop doing what I was doing was betrayal but having spoken it through with John and I realise that that is not the case.

Consequently I find I have more time for myself and doing the things that I enjoy doing like knitting and dyeing yarn and just being with my dogs. I play with them and talk to them and take care of their needs. I find I am much lighter  in mood.

John and I also discussed my medications. I have had a hard time accepting my use of painkillers since I started in 2007. Prior to that I just lived with the pain and to be frank I have absolutely no idea how I managed that. It wasn't until I took my first dose of painkiller that I realise just how much pain I had been putting up with. Yet I've never really been able to shake the ideas that I'm doing something I'll not to be doing. I constantly worry about whether the drug is killing the pain or altering my mood. When I spoke about this with my doctor she laughed and she said I should hope it does alter your mood! She said of course you are feeling like you are high because you are not in pain. She said you only had to look at my face. But she assured me that my changing countenance was due to a lack of pain.  However, I have not really come to terms with this.  I give myself a hard time about it as a result. So anyway, the other day I said to John that I really did not like being dependent upon drugs. His response was that he understood that but that I had a choice. I take the drugs and have a life or I don't take the drugs and go back to not having a life. He is right. Without drugs I could not go to dog shows. I could not even take care of the dogs. I could not go to Tesco let alone go out for the day. Holidays would be out of the question. 

Prior to 2007 I did these things but with great difficulty. I was also a very difficult person to be around and to live with. And of course since 2007 my disease has progressed somewhat so there is no going back!   Perhaps I will come to terms with this though it would help if I could figure out  exactly what it is about medication for pain that bothers me. I have absolutely no qualms at all about taking my heart and my gut medication. I am fairly certain it is not a roundabout way of not accepting my disease. I think I have a good attitude with regard to that and I know that there is no cure and that it is progressive and that I get worse as time goes on. I never find myself sitting feeling sorry for myself about that or even sitting and giving it much thought at all.  from the moment I understood my condition I never thought "what if?" I didn't go running around looking for cures. No instead  I gradually found ways of living with it and making my life easier-walking sticks, wheelchair, electric bed, memory foam pillows-and losing weight.  None of those things bother me. The drugs do. I am uncertain as to why. I have deliberately not taken them and the way that I felt was absolutely no different to the way that I always felt. In other words I didn't feel anything other than dreadful and much pain. Just like I did for the years leading up to finally agreeing to take pain medication. So why cannot I not feel comfortable taking them?

MY HUSBAND'S LATEST PAIR

These socks were knitted for my husband, John.

I used 2.25mm Chiao Goo needles. I knitted them toe up using my own Andersson Tow Up Method. The yarn is one I picked up in a German hypermarket named GLOBUS.

 The design is my own using st st and garter stitch.

I used the Andersson Heel Mach II with a varied gusset.

SHAME AGAIN PLEASE 1

DON'T PANIC

I watched part of the debate about the Marriage Equality Bill in Parliament today. A bill that might mean homosexual people are treated equally under the law. I am not naive enough to think it will change peoples bigotries.  As I watched I listend to all sorts of reasons why I should not be treated as fully human, and why some people, like religious people, should be allowed to continue to treat me as sub human, how teachers woulds till be allowed to teach children that same sex love is wrong, that no registrars will be forced to marry homosexual people. The exclusions grew. I realised with mounting rage that this is not going to be a law making us equal in law at all. It is merely going to be window dressing, a appeasement. No such conscience clauses are given to racists, to those who oppose inter faith and inter race marriage, to those who think people of differing races are less than equal. It is not legal to bar blacks, irish, Gypsies etc from hotels because of conscience. But it is going to be allowed if the matter of conscience is against me and my kind. You know a woman recently wrote to me angry that i was upset with 'normal' [people for thinking this way. she has the nerve to still touch me at shows, as if I think well of her or am such a wimp I need her fucking approval.

I got so angry whilst watching and listening and then it hit me...I am HURT and I am tired. From the day i was born I knew I was not acceptable. My father made that very clear. Only I didn't know why until I was 16. Yes I finally realised that those evil people they kept on about was ME! I then spent far too many years believing I was the one at fault.

Not any more. No. Those who know me well know when the change happened. 
I don't really know how I can ignore this. I don't know how I can continue to read and hear injustice and not react. Not just the injustice toward me and my brothers and sisters but toward others too. i juts read of a woman who lost her children, by order of a judge, because she wasn't going to bring them up fundamentalist!

I cannot live like this, enraged at the cruelty all around me. The mean spiritedness. The shit flung at me day in and day out. Seeing how people treat other people, how women are treated, how children, mostly children, are treated. the casual way people refer to immigrants as if they are not human, calling them names, blaming them for our lot. 

It sickens me. It truly does. I do not know HOW people can be so cruel, can think so poorly. Even those I know and love are guilty of seeing people as disposable, as different, as to blame. 
It frightens me. The atmosphere around now is how I understand it was like in 30's Germany. It led to the Holocaust. I imagined those MPs who spoke so eloquently and cruelly about me in Parliament today being no different to those who spoke the same way about those who were different back in Nazi Germany. i hear friends today call others 'filth' and it cuts like a blade and sends a chill through me because I know that come the crunch they will either too late see their error or they will turn their back.
I am totally at a loss. I think I have to immerse myself in fiction books, my knitting, my dyeing, my dogs, light films, comedies and push ti all out and away from me. But if I do that I fear i won't hear the jackboots as they stop at our door.

I lived in fear as a child with good reason. It was violent. I've spent my life trying to assuage that fear, to find somewhere safe. To feel safe. Physically removing myself from the childhood situation has not altered that fear one bit.  I now know it wasn't just my family. Opening my eyes to them opened my eyes to rest of this world. There is no safety. No peace. People don't want that. They prefer to hate. I won't join the hate club. I am so glad today that i never fitted in. 
One day that long sleep will come and perhaps safety too.

MAX (socks)

MAX-my latest pair of socks. I always have a pair on the needles as they are so easily portable. They are far easier to take than an aran sweater for example. The yarn is an impulse buy I could not resist. A sock yarn by Wendy. It split rather easily but I still like the colourway and the handle.

I utilized my own Andersson Toe Up Method and the Andersson Heal Mach II.

I used 2.25mm circular needles, one for each sock, knitted simultaneously. The brand was Karbonz by Knit Pro. I find them a good needle though my favourite sock sized needles are still Chiao Goo.

LIVING WITH BI-POLAR

I frequently receive emails from people who read my blog telling me their stories and how much solace they get from what I write. I have recently had a couple that address the subject of bipolar disorder.

Most of the time I completely forget that I have bipolar disorder. I am quite certain I forget this  because it suits me to.

I stopped taking medication for bipolar disorder about 10 years ago if not a little longer. One of the things that I hated about the medication was how flat it made me feel.

Most importantly having done the work I needed to do with regard to my life of abuse my mood swings became much less extreme. I say my life of abuse because to say that I was abused only as a child is not at all true. I consider my time spent in psych wards as abuse. Yes, the stories you hear about abusive staff are certainly true.  Back in the 80s I was called to give evidence about one of the hospitals I was in and the questioning psychiatrist asked me why I said nothing at the time. I looked at him squarely in the eye and I said to him: I was locked up in a mental hospital. I was being abused by the staff in that hospital. Why do you think I did not complain? Honestly what a stupid question to have asked me!

I still have the mood swings. It is just that they are not very noticeable now. However in times of stress they do become much more volatile. Last year was a good example of this. With all the stress of the house remodelling and our wedding I started to become really quite hyper and then the Jimmy Savile affair hit the news and I crashed but I kept this all to myself and I did not go to my GP. My illness had really taken over at this point and I had become paranoid. I was frightened that if I said anything to her that I would be locked up again. In the end I had no choice but call a locum in the middle of the night. I knew of course that this would be reported to my GP although I was not conscious of the fact at that particular time. I realise now that I called the locum knowing full well that he would have to tell my GP and that was my way of letting her know that I was in trouble. As a result of this we had a very good conversation and she made me a solemn promise that she would never ever do anything without my consent and she also did not think that I needed such treatment anyway. She made me feel very much better by letting me know that I was not the only person so badly affected by the Jimmy Savile affair and she had also told me several times previously that the house alterations and our wedding were very stressful occasions for people in general not just to me but given my added complications she is surprised I handled it all so well.

I guess the whole point of this is to remind myself of how far I really have come but also to remind myself that it has not gone away completely and it is never likely to. Everything that I write about myself and my disease and how I have coped is purely personal and if it helps other people I am very glad. I have no intention of getting involved in the argument of whether this is a purely biological disease. I personally do not think it is or at least if it is, it does not mean that therapy cannot help it. I can only speak from my own experience which has seen a huge lessening of the bipolar effects as I came to terms with myself and my past.

Who knows what the future may hold.  Considering just how stressful last year was, the bipolar affective disorder could have been very much stronger in reaction to all that stress. The fact that it was not I believe is down to be years of work I put in upon myself. However the way that it still presented itself and took hold of me is still frightening particularly the paranoia that I felt which kept me from seeking help or at least telling somebody.

I know that I am quite hard upon myself and yet when I write a post like this I amaze myself. I am truly astonished at the journey I have taken and if the feelings were not so clear I would find it hard to believe that the man writing this is the same man who went through all this. If I have a regret about my writing it's that I do not have talent enough to convey the sheer horror of it all so that people can really see what I used to be like compared to what I am like now. I so want to convey the message that healing is possible that no matter how bad the situation is it really can be bettered. Yes, there are a lot of battles to be fought along the way not least of which will be against loved ones and medicos who will wrongly feel that they know best. At least that was so in my case. I was very lucky that I always had John on my side and after his first experiences with the medicos in relation to my treatment he very quickly learned what I was up against and he supported me in searching out alternate avenues for my recovery.

These alternate avenues did involve a lot of new-age hokey pokey and treatments but I soon saw through those as well.

In the end the two things that really set me on the road to real recovery were this; reading books by a woman called Dorothy Rowe and finding a therapist who was a survivor of abuse himself and therefore knew what I was going through. He also never once told me there was something wrong with me and he never once diagnosed me. He never once let me down either. Even when I went into a full-blown mania as was likely to happen when I started to deal with the pain of sexual abuse. He did not leave my side.  He kept his word.

Some of you will have read my comments regarding my memories and how I can't look back over my life and see anything other than blackness and pain. Perhaps the above goes some way to explaining what I mean.

The last seven years have truly been the best of my life. They have not been without their difficulties and as I have already described last year was challenging to say the least but the good of the last seven years far outweighs the bad. For the first time in my life I am able to look back over a period longer than a few weeks and say that it was good.

JOSH

 I bought this yarn from COLOURMART. It is called Hawk. It is 10% cashmere, 10% alpaca, 30% silk , 50% merino. A 2/7 weight ( 350m/100g).

 I knitted in on a Brother 965i at tension 8*(8.) It was 26 sts and 40 rows to 10cm. It was washed, spun, and then tumble dried on hot for 1 hour. It will only be hand washed from now on.

 I used fully fashioned shaping throughout. I sewed it together using mattress stitch.

THESE ARE THE DAYS

Am knackered. Nothing doing today. Although in bed by 11:40pm, I was still awake at 2:45am due to leg pain which i finally medicated at about 2am. I had only been to dog club so was hardly on my feet very long and I was medicated well before I went. Anyway, was up at 8am as the youngsters still needed dealing with. 

These episodes are frequent, nothing new, but still I cannot help but feel grateful that I can watch tv, listen to music and knit, so despite being prevented living a 'normal' life by my body, I am still having a good life.  

Recently I have been thinking a lot about how life used to be. I know that when I was in my 20s I found occupy myself in a satisfactory way extremely difficult. I was very anxious to find a career and constantly fought for that despite my health. Gradually over the years my talents came to the fore  and as I healed so my days became more and more fulfilling.

Whereas back in those days I found the day is far too long I now find the day is far too short!

I have written about fear recently. One of the comments suggested that one should not pick over the scabs of old wounds. Whilst I agree with this I do not think it is wise that we ignore feelings if they are persistent as my waking up in fear each day had become.

As is often the case just thinking about the fear and what could be causing it has brought me to  the last few days of feeling much better.

I read a short piece the day before yesterday about forgiveness. I began to realise that much of what I had been thinking about my past was the lack of forgiveness of myself.

 When ever I think back about how used to be I feel shame and embarrassment. I have realised that this could be different. I get upset when others don't understand that people behave in certain ways when they are disturbed and should not be judged. Yet here I doing exactly that with myself. I need to think of my past self with understanding and compassion instead of wanting to forget him because I feel so ashamed of him. I could not have been any different and it wasn't as if I wasn't trying the whole time but I was far more damaged than me or anybody else knew and I wasn't getting the help that I needed. It was not for want of me looking for help. I even cringe with embarrassment when I think of some of the things that I did in my quest for wellness.

My overwhelming memory is the sheer darkness of the pain that I was in for so many years. So why do I not give myself a break? Whilst I would not say I condemn my past self the mere fact that I feel shame about it tells me that I hold myself accountable and do not see myself as having been ill. For me the shame shows my lack of forgiveness and understanding.

 I need to find within myself a different way of viewing and feeling my past. I would like to be able to view my life from a compassionate standpoint. Whilst I do not  think that I need to go into details with anybody and certainly not here on my blog, I do think that I'm would like to be at the point where I can lay my past before myself and not feel shame and distain for myself.

Whilst I've would not call this a negative, I certainly did not expect that along with the happy state of affairs that is me today would come a crushing awareness  of just how disturbed I used to be. It seems I am far more understanding and forgiving of others who do terrible things in their quest to free themselves from pain. Whilst I know that the desire to stop hurting was the impetus for everything I am not yet at that point that I can think of my behaviours and not feel shame. Even though I know that some of my extreme and distressing behaviours were the direct result of large doses of chlorpromazine I still remember the incidents as if I were in control and the person I am now instead of an extremely disturbed and abused person who was being abused even more with these drugs. Chlorpromazine and haloperidol are two of the most evil drugs. I really think that before people prescribed them they should take them themselves so that they have some understanding of the horrors they produce in those who take them. I know I am not the only one to be seriously affected by such drugs. There is even some evidence that my present neurological problems could be the result of these drugs. I still have to live with the memories of my behaviour whilst out of my mind on these drugs. Worse still was the total ignorance of the medical profession and therefore of the people around me, of the effects these drugs have. No one's in the medical profession seem to understand that the sudden serious worsening of my behaviour was brought on by the medication.

I think I may have to revisit this topic because I feel I cannot do so now. However I think my reluctance to take medication for my present disease is clearly understandable in light of the above.

Who would even think that self forgiveness is  a concept, let alone a necessity. This does require more thinking about but for today I'm done.

NO REGRETS

We were having a very difficult time with Fanny.  She has to be the most stubborn dog I have ever owned.  We sent her away to friends of ours who train dogs. I felt I really needed her to go away because she was having bad effects on Alexander.

It turns out that I did the right thing. She came back yesterday after 10 days away. Not only does she now sleep in her cage all night without  barking but she eats in her closed crate as well. Alexander, who has always slept well in his crate, is now eating well too. all this week he had not as he had started to do what Fanny had done; not eat in his crate. Now that they are both together again they are both eating normally and sleeping normally. The only challenge still left is to train Fanny for the lead which she is still refusing, or at least is not completely happy with it yet.

As for me I have still been having trouble with fear. I spoke to John about it yesterday. I told him how I'd been feeling a lot of fear recently. I also told him how this is usually the prelude to a dark and terrible time of flashbacks with me coming out the other side and more "enlightened". This has been the result the last three times.

However after the last time when I finally realised that I had not been abused because of who I was but because of who they were I really thought that was enough. To be quite frank, I have had enough of this. I really do not want to go through any of that shit again.  What can possibly be left that I have not felt or understood?

I think that this fear is more to do with the fact that my life is really good. As contrary as that seems, I have never been in this situation before. I do find it frightening. I am used to having to fight. I am used to having to swallow down fear. I'm used to the battle to survive. I have lived like that all of my life. It is now time to enjoy the fruits of my labour. I have earned this. I deserve this. And I am so very afraid that this will all be taken from me. Now I think that something terrible is going to happen to John or to myself.

I know that it is not logical. Yet the pattern of my life has always been one of loss. The constant moving. From one continent to the other, from one country to the other. Leaving behind a home that I knew, friends, pets.  I stopped getting attached. In my mind I knew that I would lose these friends, these pets, this home.  I remained detached.

I am no longer detached. Over the years that I have been with John, I occasionally had my love for him break through my barrier. I may have been putting food into the freezer, reading, bathing a dog, and all of a sudden I would feel this overwhelming love and it would terrify me. Well since my epiphany not only do I feel this all the time but I also feel it for my dogs, especially Whitney. 

I understand that loss comes to us all. I also understand that we all die. It is ironic that I spent my whole life surviving only to discover that I will die anyway. The terror I felt as a child of dying by the hands of my father, or the paedophiles of whom I was a victim, has not left me. I will die anyway.

I have to find some way of integrating this so that I can enjoy all that I have. Whilst I understand that most people deal with this with denial, it seems that I cannot. I don't know that it is possible to go back into denial. I also feel very strongly that I want very much longer left because otherwise I feel that I will have fought all of my life to just get a few years of benefit.

I know that I have no control over time. That death will come when death comes. Like many people, I need to stop seeing death as punishment. This is what I was taught when I was a child through religion. What an evil thing to teach anyone let alone children. Death is not punishment it is what happens to our bodies and we cannot do anything about it.

And we cannot do anything about it. For a control freak that is really a problem. I have pretty much dealt with my control issues with regard to other people. Some of it is necessary, like doing what I can to organise my day and our trips so that the requirements of my disease are met. In other words I control as much of those as I can whilst accepting that there will always be stuff beyond my control.

I have no control over death. Yes, I can hasten my end, which I am likely to do in the event of a drawn out painful end.  Other than that, just like everybody else, I have no control.

I therefore need to live my life joyously despite this knowledge. I don't know how to. The irony of all this, from what I understand of the literature on the effects of child abuse, is that had I had a secure upbringing I would be dealing with my own demise and that of my loved ones in a way that did not prevent me from enjoying my life. Instead, having been in constant fear throughout my childhood and witnessing the violent murder of my best friend,  has left me with  fear. About halfway through therapy it dawned on me that I would not survive, that no amount of coming to terms with my past, loving myself, was going to remove the fact that death would come.

I understand that death is something to be feared. Rather, the manner of death. And the uncertainty of it. What is not right is that my now is being so negatively affected by my fear of it.

Although it all boils down to this in the end it is also very much about my inability to enjoy the good life that I have claimed for myself. That I have fought so very long and hard for. It would be really sad if I did not find some way of truly enjoying all that I have now.

Perhaps, now that I have written, and through the course of writing come to understand what is behind the way I have been feeling recently, it will gradually begin to heal of its own accord. As always when I start to write I did not know what I was going to write about and so I am surprised as maybe you are.

I do want to make it clear though to my fellow survivors that regardless of where I am right now I have absolutely no regrets at all in going through the healing process that abuse survivors must go through. It is worth it. It is necessary. No matter how brief, feeling happiness and joy and peace is worth it. To have love and respect for oneself instead of loathing is worth it. No, I most certainly do not regret seeking healing in the way that I did. I do not regret being where I am right now. I also know that where I am right now is yet another effect that abuse has on people.

I think people in general, including we survivors, do not fully appreciate the enormity of the damage that child abuse inflicts upon the soul, or the psyche if you prefer, of the child.  It is far more enormous, far more deep, and far more destructive than we imagine it to be.

It is not insurmountable. Seeking recovery is worth it. We are worth so much better than a life without recovery affords us. No, the seeking of healing, whilst lifelong, is worth it.

THE HABIT OF FEAR

I have woken up feeling afraid today. Not just a mild fleeting anxiety in my belly but actual fear. I have no idea why. I didn't sleep very well at all. I don't know what time I woke up but it was long before it was light and I lay there until it was time to get up at 6:30 to be ready to take John to the train station at 7:30.

I then had a common battle with myself: do I go swimming as planned or do I come home and go straight back to bed because I am very tired and I need to sleep. I decided on the latter, thinking that I can do a lunchtime swim. If I had gone swimming I would have ended up going to sleep this afternoon. That would have made matters worse.

I have said before that I think that I often wake up feeling fear because I did for so many years.  Meaning throughout my whole childhood and into my 30s. It wasn't until I started therapy to deal with my childhood abuse issues that I began to wake up some days without fear.

I am almost too ashamed to even talk about this but I do think this might possibly have to do with why I keep feeling fear so much recently. Firstly, I do think that if one has felt a particular emotion all day every day year upon year upon year it becomes a habit even when the reason for the emotion has gone. However I do think that this fear is coming up again for a specific reason.

 My life is going very well. The house is finally settled.  I think we have both decided that we will never be uncluttered! We are financially secure. John's health is very manageable and so is mine. I have found a medication regime that works well for me now.  I am doing well with my dogs and I am pleased with what I have bred.  I am back doing my knitting. I will soon be back doing my dyeing also.

I am not used to things being good. I am very used to things not lasting and being taken away from me. I know that everything in life is  temporary. When I was a boy though I experienced no security whatsoever. I did not feel loved and accepted or safe within my own family for good reason. On top of this we moved constantly and so I was constantly going through the grief of loss until I eventually just stopped feeling and getting close to people and animals. It was just far too painful to constantly have to say goodbye.

I have been thinking quite a lot about my past life recently and I don't know what I really should think about it. I don't really have any good memories. The only really good thing that happened was meeting John and then my therapist and the friends that I still have, all two of them. (I have since made more.) I remember clearly just how awful it all was and I remember particularly my own behaviour and how bad it was. All the self harming and compulsive behaviours and the harm that I caused other people albeit unwittingly. I cringe when I think of who I used to be. I do truly understand that I could not have been anybody else and that I really did try my hardest and I eventually made it and pulled myself out of the mire. However I am left with all these terrible memories and I don't really know what to do with them.

I had thought I was going to write about how my life is so good now that the rug is going to be pulled from under my feet and that is what I was afraid of. I didn't realise I was going to start talking yet again about my childhood and my past behaviours but I think I haven't thought about it from this angle before. If I stop and really think I can remember exciting times like when we first arrived in Singapore. That was a very exciting place to me with all the smells and sounds and different looking people but these memories are soon interrupted by the fact that this is where I was first sexually assaulted as far as I can recall and was also where my father nearly killed me for the first time. Everything I try and remember every nugget of good I try and pick out always has this bad stuff connected.

I love music and over the last few years I have collected lots and lots of new music and part of the reason for this is that my music collection is hard to listen to without it bringing up memories that are dark and painful.

I want time and plenty of time to enjoy what I now have. I want my body to last me long enough. Thus I do what I can to keep my disease from progressing too rapidly. I want long enough to be able to have years of good memories so that when I reminisce the dark stuff is a long way away.

You have to bear in mind that I did not start to live in colour as I describe it until the very end of 2007 when I had my epiphany. I'm not going to describe this again but it came at the end of the most painful period. I will never forget it as long as I live and the dramatic change in me is still with me. I became the Colin I was always meant to be. And truly the best way to describe it is that I went from living in monochrome to living in Technicolor.

I don't feel as afraid as when I started to write but I'm not sure that any of what I've written is the reason for the fear. I think probably fear can be habit as well as of course my own thinking which is often worrying about John now getting really sick and dying on me or me getting really sick.  I have even become acutely aware of how short the lives of my dogs are.